Page 115 of Light Leech

“Taxes and any other economic topics are out of the question,” Koro said.

“Then?”

“Imagine the next election. Let’s say Haven Health eats it and they’re out of the election. Who should take the presidency?”

“Who do you think?”

“No. We’re not letting you leave on neutral ground. The end of this short ride is coming, as you probably are hoping, but that doesn’t mean you can get out of this.”

“I don’t see any desirable outcome with Neocapitolocracy.”

Kao scoffed. “You liked Arabasia that much huh?”

“Well he can’t like Medislavia if he ran away from there,” said Kyo.

Kao shook her head. “I expected more from you. Joining all the other social net-driven kids who see the glamor and culture of east Arabasia and decide that it is where destiny wants them.”

“No.” The word lingered in my mouth. It was an inconclusive thought that I couldn’t quite deny. Sure, I had adored the media and culture of East Arabasia just like most the people my age–especially as we turned away from the allure of the Repubilc–but my longing for it had deepened. I didn’t understand the neuronet’s obsession over East Arabasia until I experienced it.

The Republic wasn’t my home and Medislavia was under a regime. If we weren’t forced to return to the Republic to take down its Beacons, I wondered if I would have returned. Aside from the Imps, the Luxists were the only ones who knew what we were and didn’t use us or hate us because of it. Denji had been helpful so far, but I could feel the struggle of the Republic’s weak Luxists membership.

All of these were but small benefits compared to Naoma.

If anyone knew her past, it would be the Luxists. She had a connection to their god, so why wouldn’t they be the best start? If she had a connection to the heart of their religion, I had reason to believe that the Republic was never her home.

Was I a fool for putting so much faith in that? Was I jaded by the light I saw in East Arabasia?

These thoughts were mine, so I didn’t need to deny them.

“They are mine as well.”

I don’t care.

I wanted to find somewhere peaceful to live with Naoma. This was the goal of a chain of unlikely hopes, but I held to it. I wanted to take Naoma back to the land of her ancestry, away from Reef and those who wanted to manipulate her just as Anton Jackson had. There we could thrive with the Luxists. Boyband could produce Naoma’s music and Akna could probably help. Kuni could grow up in his homeland. Abbas could bridge the hatred between the East and West. Ralia could thrive in the technological heart of the world.

Naoma and I could lie down on the tatami mats of an empty monastery. Our hands clasped. Neurospaces off. Only the light of the sunset on us through the window. We could live life as it was meant to be lived before Gong consumed the old world.

“Focus,” Koro said. “No avoiding conflict like that, either. Choose a party. Where do you stand? If we arrive before you answer I’m not letting you out.”

I was in the Republic for now. I would remain so unless I continued.

“The SocStans.”

“Why?”

I breathed easier knowing she wasn’t coming at me with an insult.

“Because they were the party that made me want to come to the Republic. Not them specifically, but the image the Republic created.”

“And you loathe the health-centered focus of the current administration?”

“I worked for Haven Health before I met Naoma. I still have ties to them.”

“Really?” Kyo asked.

I nodded. Might as well use the truth to hide any prying into my past. “My stories of immigration were never fabricated. I had nothing, so I gave my body to earn any lumens I could by participating in medical trials.”

“What kinds of trials?” Koro furrowed her brow. “Zeg, do you have techbone?”