Page 118 of Light Leech

“Know any that might help you pick out a target?”

She nodded.

We ascended the stairs and passed bouncers dressed in an amalgamation of ancient Arabasian armor and a tuxedo. They watched us as we entered. Beneath the darkness of their visors, I saw the subtle flash of neurospace usage.

I checked on them as we entered the hall and let out my breath, seeing that they hadn’t followed. A few more people trickled in behind us, but I could hear a cacophony of laughs and gossip above. The hall split in three paths. Two up a staircase on each side, which the other guests took, and an empty path before us that led to a massive, gilded door. A row of bouncers stood before it and no one dared approach. We followed the crowd to the second level, but it did not diminish my curiosity.

The volume increased with the pulse of Finian-produced music that shook my core. I opened my neurospace and accessed the building’s music hub to dial down the stimulation for me, turning the music into a typical club beat that set the mood. Others could dance and live in the music if they wanted, but I was sure most people had done the same as me to enjoy the party for the people rather than the atmosphere.

3Rochi lead the way. I glanced at Naoma, seeing that her eyes were flashing as well. From what I understood, most clubs offered the high-stimulation Finian atmosphere for those who wanted to experience the most expensive fixes in a realm of their own. I had been to a couple of parties like that but had heard only rumors of events like this. None of my expectations met the majesty of a party thrown by someone who might be the leader of the Entertainment party or even a Beacon of the Gongtide.

Naoma took my hand, stilling my shaking. She gave me a glance and a calming smile before proceeding.

It didn’t matter who we were as we entered. Nichley himself could have walked through the crowd with his mechanical body and no one would have noticed. Every face I saw belonged to some form of entertainment. Mindshow actors mingled with influencers who shared drinks with other musicians and idols. Even those I didn’t recognize had the face and wardrobe that could only belong in the Violet District. Finian butlers walked around with trays holding light-infused drinks, fix-download tabs with a variety of holographic labels, and hors d’oeuvres that looked the right amount of unappealing that they had to be worth neighborhoods in the lower districts. Dragons in the air, serpents weaving through the balcony balustrades, and all other forms of light constructs filled the room like ghosts of living energy.

Kao glanced back at us as her two sisters walked towards an area on the right filled with chromatic smoke. She followed them, leaving us alone in the center of the room.

Without Naoma, I would have felt that most unsettling sensation of being alone in an otherwise crowded place. I didn’t belong among the elite. If they knew what I was, let alone what I was, I would have been sacrificed to one of the false gods of lucre that they prayed to.

“Oh. My. Light. Is that the Neon Idol?”

We turned back to the flamboyant voice of a middle aged man with two younger men at his sides.

Naoma let out an airy laugh like a child embarrassed to be recognized for her achievements. “Yes, it is.”

He embraced her with a squeal, though it was a light embrace to avoid pressing his sharp shoulder ornamentation into her face.

She wrapped her arms around him, but I could tell that it was with forced enthusiasm. “It’s good to see you, Lyler.”

He let go and sighed. The man on his right straightened Lyler’s jacket and ascot while the other pushed his hair back into the perfect glittery golden swoop.

I held back from using my neurospace to identify him, knowing that his face was familiar, despite me not knowing where to place it. He looked like most of the men his age in the room, except for the ocular band with hanging wires that passed through his septum like a piercing. While many of the people here had the cybernetic enhancement that reminded me of Tevon, I hadn’t seen anyone with the nasal connection.

“Please tell me you remember me, Nay.”

She smiled, more comfortable in her composure. “I said your name, didn’t I?”

“Not who I am, but everything that we’ve done together.”

“I was on your show only three times.”

“And far too few! I must have you on again, especially now that you’re back! Dear Light, until the news covered the popup, I thought you were–no, let’s leave that behind. How about next month? I have a slot on–”

She laughed. “I can’t commit to anything right now–”

“Of course! You must be so busy! Is there a new album? A new mindshow? Are you still with Nichely? I loved you in The Red Geisha, by the way. What. A. Masterpiece. Of course I flew to Arabasia to see it when I heard that you were in a side project. Or is it your main thing now? I don’t mean to offend. It was a delight though. When is that music coming out here? It’s a shame the show has been pulled from streaming and such, but– My. Light!“ He seized me by the hands and pulled me in. “Who is this? Is this the reason you’ve been on a little holiday?”

His eyes flashed. “My dear light. I didn’t expect to see both of you here so suddenly! Is this your boyfriend? Partner? A brief affair? An affair with a political influencer, hmm?“ He let go of one of my hands and took Naoma’s in the other. “Nay, you aren’t getting too into politics now, are you? War doesn’t suit you, girl.”

“Isn’t that what all this is? Politics?”

He laughed loud enough for the entire room to hear, which they would have, had this not been livelier than any club. “You are sooo right. Wait, I’ve never seen you at a Dynasty gathering.”

Naoma managed to speak in between one of his half second pauses to breathe. “Yes, it’s my first.”

“Why now? Surely you could have come anytime. You’re the zegging Neon Idol! Was it your manager? Oh, I was so sorry to hear about Anton. What a shame it was to see him go. Or was it a shame? Did we like him?”

“We had a complicated relationship.”