Page 28 of Light Leech

“Mao,” Naoma said.

“A lovely place, from what I have seen, which part?”

“New Shanghai, Indigo District,” I said. “Have you ever been?”

“No, I have only seen Arabasia in mindshows, though I have been told I need to visit.”

“Not now,” Kuni said. “Too many people dying.”

“Oh.” Sanna cleared her throat. “Of course. I am sorry to hear that. I pray to the Light that it turns out well for your people.”

The elevator stopped and we exited. I could tell Sanna was relieved to leave the awkwardness of the enclosed elevator after such a comment. I was under no illusion that she actually felt bad. Unless she was an exception, she was programmed to believe the Republic propaganda that the war was necessary to prevent Arabaian light dominance. I probably would have believed the same, had I been in her position. Still, it bothered me. Information was tainted with the invention of the lie and had grown more corrupt with the growth of technology.

Her prayer would avail her nothing. No false God created from corrupt light would hear her words, even if they were just for show.

She waved us forward, down an extensive hallway with classrooms enclosed by glass walls. I started to look into one, but Sanna pulled my attention back to her.

“Yuze’s class is just ahead. Mister Ershov, how did you find yourself in Arabasia?”

“I work in pharmaceuticals. Sales, mostly. I’ve lived in the Republic for most of my life—“

“I was going to say, despite your name, I would have never thought you were Medislavian.”

“My parents came here when I was a child.”

“And Arabasia?”

“My company sent me to a branch they were opening in New Shanghai, which is where I met Mei. We settled there for some time and we’re fortunate enough to escape the worst of the war.”

“I hear that it gets worse by the day.”

“We tend to avoid the news,” Naoma said. “Best to focus on the brighter side of life. The places we can make a difference.” She placed her hand on Kuni’s shoulder as Sanna stopped next to a classroom door and faced us.

“But don’t you worry about everyone else knowing what is happening while you remain ignorant?”

“What if we can’t rely on that information?” Naoma’s visage was approaching condescension.

“Seek out proper sources.”

“And how do I know which ones qualify as proper?”

I was starting to grow worried.

She continued. “Ulterior motives dictate education. How do I know outside influences won’t teach my child concepts I disagree with?”

I relaxed, seeing how well she was playing into her high-standard mother.

“Disagreeing with the common curriculum is a sign of your problematic beliefs.” Sanna was growing tense.

“Who decides which topics are problematic?”

“The Zingang Board of Education. Is there a certain topic you would like discussed?”

“Religious teachings and their oppression, discretion when teaching about pharmaceutical companies connected to the presidency, android rights–”

Sanna laughed, but the sound was free of joy. She held up her hand to stop Naoma. “So every point of modern controversy?”

“Unless you have the authority to discuss such policies, yes, I would like to speak with the Zingang Board.”