Page 148 of Light Leech

I needed to turn that mentality on the elites. I needed Boyband here but would have to resort to natural causes. His mod was blocked anyway.

Petya: We can’t change the race, but you can change the crowd.

Naoma: What are you thinking?

Petya: I need Ral to fix my neurospace. She has our location, right?

Naoma: I guess.

Petra: She needs to tap into the screen they’re using for the scoreboard.

Naoma: And do what?

Petya: Do you know a lot of these people?

Naoma: Enough based on reputation and what I’ve seen on the neuronet.

Petya: Have Ral hook you up to find some feuds or any kind of dirt you can bring up between some people.

Naoma: To broadcast it on the screen?

Petya: Yes. We need anything we can get to distract them.

Naoma: And then what?

I failed to give her an immediate response as one of the spear-throwers on my boat took a hit and fell onto me. I felt his weight for a second until he became a light-weight skin-suit of a man.

The captain called and one of the rowers in front of me moved to the spears. The other rower next to her had fallen a minute prior and her efforts were only helping to veer us to the right.

Naoma: Why don’t I reveal myself and use my Gui or whatever it is? I’m close enough to him now.

Petya: No, that would waste your efforts so far.

Naoma: Doesn’t matter, I didn’t know it would go this bad.

Petya: Let’s not ruin your reputation unless we have to.

Naoma: Preserving my reputation isn’t my focus right now.

Petya: Reach out to Ral. I’ll figure something out down here.

Naoma: Hurry, please.

We completed another lap, now in second place despite our losses. The fifth boat pulled across the line as we went around the first curve.

No announcement. No warning. Sea-mechs unlike I had ever seen rose from the water as if freed from some underwater chamber. It was no bipedal Finian, nor was it a hypnotizing cuttle. This was no new doomed attempt to create a new human-esque being, but an abominable joining of an orca and a mechanical squid. The orca’s front was a touch smaller than I imagined one being, having never visited an oceanic preserve, but that did little to diminish my fear. Aside from its face and dorsal fin, most of its body was covered in a sleek, black metal to match its skin. An optic band had replaced its eyes, which I was sure made it an even deadlier predator. As one swam for the first boat, its thick tentacles capsized the second boat. The crew gathered to flip their boat, losing one of their members as another orca-mech speared her with a light-tipped tentacle.

Every boat passed them, veering around the second boat and its tormentor. The first orca-mech pursued the winning boat, though from its initial push, I knew that speed was no issue. It weaved back and forth like a snake, splashing the boat with its tentacles as it but towards the tail end. Its gnashing teeth drew closer with each second. Wine splashed from the back end of the boat as its tentacles speared the wood.

The crew shouted as they scrambled to plug the leak. Another sprung up as the orca-mech stabbed into the boat again, lifting an impaired rower this time.

One of the boat’s spearmen struck the orca just above the eyeband after a barrage of failed attempts.

It cried out and rammed the boat, breaking the spear off as it cracked the wood of the boat’s end.

Our captain shredded his voice with a shout louder than any before. He called for the spearmen to stop targeting the other towers and to focus on the second orca-mech who was now targeting us.

We needed a drastic maneuver in order to join the second boat–which had lost a third of its crew by the time they got back inside their boat–or the first boat–which was losing an inch of its body by the second. The single shot to the orca-mech’s head had done nothing but enrage the beast, causing it to bite into the body of the first fallen fan who came its way.