Page 8 of Light Leech

“You’re missing the point. I don’t want to be treated like a goddess.”

“Then what do you want?”

“A life? My past? To help you do what you have to do.”

“Why? You’re free from Reef, Nichley, you’re not constrained by–”

“A light ghost like you are? I think I am. Really, Petya, do you think I’m that shallow? Now that I’m free I can just run?”

“No, I didn’t mean–”

“What is there to run to? More ownership while you and the others are doing the only thing that really matters to the world? Freedom doesn’t matter as long as Gongtide is still working.”

“I’m sorry if I—“

“Don’t. It’s fine, really. Light, there are so many questions to figure out. Where the world sees me now, where Nichley is, and those are just my problems.”

“Our. If you’re going to bear our burdens, at least let us share yours.”

She nodded.

“Abbas will handle Haven, Ralia can cover our tracks, and Akna can help bridge the gap from Arabasian Luxists to Republic Luxists.”

“Why not Boyband?”

“Come on, I know he’s the one with the family connection, but do you think he knows anything about the Luxists compared to her?”

She laughed. “Right. Have you checked in on him recently?”

I nodded, then walked over to remove any retrievable hardware from the therapist. “He got sick of being alone after a day, so he convinced Ralia and Abbas to let him take Kuni.”

She faced me, wide-eyed with terror as I speared my hand into the back of the therapist’s head. She had been with us long enough to grow used to such a thing that I knew her terror was from my words, not my actions. “You let him take responsibility for a ten-year-old?”

I laughed, keeping focus on the bloody remnants at the base of the therapist’s skull. If this thing had a typical neurospace implant, this would be enough for a lead. “I didn’t do anything. Ralia gave him the go.”

“Are we sure that her brain is still intact with all that new tech?”

“Oh come on, Boyband can be excessive, but he knows what he’s doing.”

Chapter three

Thank You, Luxist Monk

“Idon’t like the taste of teeth.”

Naoma and I turned away from the monastery entrance at the sound of accented Amerikese. After a week of neurospace programs, Kuni sounded like he would have no problem getting by.

Naoma hit my arm.

“What?”

“Did I say something wrong?” Kuni asked. “My Amerikese should be better by now. Right?”

“It is, don’t sweat it,” Boyband said.

“Did you hear him?”

I looked at Boyband, laughing as he approached us with Kuni. I had been too preoccupied by Kuni’s advanced Amerikese.