Page 107 of Light Leech

I laughed. Had I not taken a worrytab, tears would have flooded my face. I think some still broke through.

I believe you. That was all she needed to say to give me a slave with more potency than any fix.

I didn’t need to explain how much I had suffered or how much of a viper Pavtov was to have worked his way into the nation I once thought to be safe.

Clutching Naoma, keeping my burdens hidden behind the comfort of her presence, I recalled a promise I had forgotten. Without Deleon or Cut to provide the investments, the promise was mine alone.

Gongtide or not, I could not let any more Republic-bound refugees suffer as I had. I could not let their trials become trusted into propaganda like I had just witnessed.

Hope was present, but there was only so much I could accomplish. Not only was time finite, but we were yet to understand the Bite’s effects on longevity. How long could my body withstand a diet driven by dental hunger? How long could the mind withstand daily cruelties? I clutched Naoma as if the impending age and lawful punishment I deserved would take her away. Perhaps that was for the best. If I suffered, she didn’t have to.

My grip remained tenacious, tightening against the fabric of her skirt as reason tried to pull me away.

Chapter seventeen

Card Chaos

The clusters of debating crowds was worse than any multi-level-marketing convention I could imagine.

Few remained unconvinced by others or without followers to spread their untruths, yet their wandering panic was difficult to ignore. Could they advance without convincing a single opponent?

I watched my three large groups now warring with others in a game of logic and deception. I stood at the back of one as my first victim debated with a woman whose group argued that humans don’t need to drink to survive. Some groups were easier to convince than others, noting the unfortunate draws some players had such as the truth that all fish are capable of breathing air but they are too stubborn to try.

I intervened if prompted by my followers but let them carry the good word for hatred forward. My moral constraints dissolved as I lost all hope for logic and truth in this game. If this was what Pure Knowledge required, I doubted that truth could prevail. If the world could be convinced that its history never included moving to a new planet that imprisoned a nefarious god, I suppose anything was possible. My job was not to proclaim truth, but to survive.

Rather than split into multiple groups, Ralia led a single giant cluster that developed smaller groups and digested them with her persuasiveness.

I deviated from my group as we passed yet another lost competitor. They moved to join in an argument between two smaller groups and I focused on a distraught man lying on his back.

“Decided to give up?” I asked, hands on hips to match my casual grin as if this were a water-cooler conversation in an actual office.

“Would you believe me if I told you that plastic is the remnant of alien reproduction?” He laughed. “This is all a zegging joke. A bunch of pompous shacs with degrees up their asses trying to prove who could bang neurospace first.”

I sat next to him, leaning back with my hands holding me up. Aside from Ralia, I hadn’t expected to find anyone here who seemed like an actual person rather than an educated construct.

He sat up. “What, you aren’t going to try and convince me of your truth?”

He followed my gaze to the debating hoards before I could speak.

“Ahh, I see. You’ve got a little cult of your own carrying out the work for you, huh? Why waste your time with me?”

“Beacuse I’m sick of it, too.”

He shrugged. “At least you’ll pass the round.”

“Who’s to say you won’t? Nobody has convinced you yet, have they?”

“But I haven’t convinced anyone.”

“And? Did the rules say you’ll be eliminated if you fail to convince someone?”

“I don’t zegging know. None of this guk makes any sense. The zegging university I work for put me up to this and now I’ll return as a failure. I probably deserve to be demoted to teach some… gah, what do you care? The system will probably cook my brain for failing. No need to pity me, I already faced that existential crisis at the end of the race. I should have failed that too if the idiot next to me hadn’t spoken his every thought.”

“Do you want some help?”

“Why?”

“My hoard is growing, so I’m probably safe from the next round of eliminations.”