Chapter 24

  The day of the debate

  Senator Solana Mayer stood behind the lectern of her floating dais. Soft, muted lights bathed her platform—and that of Jaje Neima a few meters away—while the audience seating below remained submerged in shadow.

  She drew out a small pocket mirror, calmly reapplying her lipstick and adjusting the golden pin that held her hair in a precise bun. Her features were fine, almost sculpted. Light brown eyes gleamed with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. She tucked a loose strand behind her ear and snapped the mirror shut.

  Her mission was simple: drag Senator Neima into the abyss.

  Winning the debate mattered less than that.

  All at once, the lights flared to full brightness. Solana slipped the mirror into her pocket. To her right, rows of guests illuminated—dozens of senators seated at the center, flanked by figures of varying authority. Neima’s stern, unyielding expression entered her field of vision.

  “Deputies are invited to join their presiding senators,” announced a voice from the raised desk set back to the left of the two opponents.

  It belonged to the debate’s president, clad in the proud armor of the Light Warriors. His long white hair framed a deeply lined face. Silver eyes settled on the circular platform that glided toward Solana’s dais.

  “It’s begun,” Niel whispered as he stepped beside her.

  “Good.”

  Neima’s deputy joined him—a blonde woman in a sharply tailored suit, discipline etched into her posture.

  The president cleared his throat.

  “I am Linceuil of the Truth. In my presence, none may lie with impunity. Every falsified word you utter will bear consequences—the severity of which shall reflect the depth of your betrayal of yourself. The rules are simple: a topic will be announced. You will debate for thirty minutes to defend your position. At the end, the votes of the Eleusians watching the live broadcast will determine the victor.”

  Solana had prepared for every possible subject.

  Yet the one she most wished to defend was—

  “Should the universal use of amarite be legalized in the Lower World?” proclaimed Linceuil. “This debate opposes Presiding Senator Solana Mayer and Presiding Senator Jaje Neima. As tradition dictates, the senator whose response is affirmative shall begin. Senator.”

  Solana cleared her throat.

  “Thank you for your introduction, President Linceuil. I would also like to express my gratitude to my deputy, Niel Mano, who stands beside me today. And to Senator Neima and his deputy for participating in this final exchange before the elections.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” Neima replied.

  “Then let us address the matter directly. To answer the president’s question, allow me to pose one in return. Given your well-known negative stance on universal legalization, Senator Neima—how exactly would such legalization undermine your political ambitions?”

  Opening the debate always conferred advantage. Solana chose the angle from which the entire exchange would unfold.

  “An excellent question,” Neima said smoothly. “You are correct—my medical reform projects rely upon controlled amarite use in the Lower World. That does not contradict my position here. Universal legalization would carry far heavier consequences than strictly regulated medical authorization. Let us remember: amarite is coveted by both our continents and was the origin of the three great power wars that scarred our planet. An overabundance would rekindle the greed of those who would exploit it destructively. Tell me, Senator Solana—how would you guarantee the management of such a precious and dangerous resource, once it risks falling into anyone’s hands?”

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  She ignored his question.

  “So you maintain,” she continued evenly, “that your motivations are purely devoted to improving public health—while preventing further military crises?”

  “Senator, answer my question first, if you please.”

  “I will. But I would like your confirmation.”

  Neima straightened slightly over his lectern.

  “Yes. Precisely.”

  “Thank you. As for your question: restricting amarite to medical use does not eliminate the risks you mentioned. Health is not limited to medicine or vaccines. Health is a way of life. Amarite could enhance daily existence for all Eleusians—better transport, improved working conditions, superior housing, and more. To fear future wars is to live in the past. Eleusia must look forward to evolve. And now that Eile?n sails across our skies, its mere presence could deter any who would dare provoke another conflict.”

  Murmurs of approval rippled through the guest stands.

  “I do not dismiss your perspective,” Neima replied, “but you still have not answered me. If amarite were legalized planetwide—how would you regulate it?”

  “Through structured procedures and binding regulations.”

  “Drafted by you?”

  She knew where he was going.

  “That is my intention,” she affirmed.

  Neima arranged his notes.

  “Very well. Thank you for your honesty. I have here reports originating from Eile?n itself, suggesting you aid the resistance in acquiring amarite. I accuse you of nothing—but how can we trust your true intentions? The resistance is an illegal movement opposing the Crown. Any assistance to it is prohibited by law. Might your desire to legalize amarite simply serve to increase the resources you could grant them?”

  “With respect to the Crown,” Solana began, “those are mere assumptions. I do not—”

  She stopped abruptly.

  No protective enchantments functioned within these walls. Not even Princess Anastasia’s.

  Here, Solana was vulnerable to Linceuil’s Truth.

  “Yes, Senator?” Neima asked with a faint smile.

  Niel leaned close.

  “We have the footage.”

  Solana did not yet know Aaronn’s name. Niel had informed her she would receive proof through an anonymous source—allowing her to present it without exposing its origin and circumvent the president’s power.

  “My political intentions are devoted solely to the people,” she resumed as if nothing had happened. “As far as we know, the resistance fights to defend their rights. Can the same be said of you, Senator?”

  “Are those accusations? Threats?” Neima replied coolly. “The reports I reference were made public weeks ago. Nothing personal.”

  “In that case, I request authorization to use the projector, Mr. President. Reason: discredit.”

  “Denied,” Linceuil answered at once. “The debate is turning personal. Remain focused on the original question, Senator.”

  “But I have addressed the question. And as permitted by Senate rules, I may verify whether my opponent’s stated motivations align with reality.”

  “I have heard no contradiction from Senator Neima that would justify such a conclusion. Your request is rejected.”

  A satisfied smile touched Neima’s lips. Solana forced herself not to react.

  “Proceed,” the president ordered.

  “Very well. I will be direct. I believe Senator Neima is lying about his values and motivations. Therefore, his position in this debate cannot be legitimate.”

  Neima’s brow furrowed.

  “You claim to act for the people,” she pressed, “yet you are prepared to sacrifice them to achieve your aims.”

  “Baseless accusations,” he shot back.

  “I possess proof of the sale of information regarding the locations of Half-Chosen.”

  Gasps erupted among the audience.

  As Linceuil prepared to interrupt, she added:

  “Proof obtained entirely legally.”

  White light burst from Solana’s eyes. Her body stiffened violently. Spasms wracked her frame before she collapsed against her lectern. Niel rushed to steady her.

  “Senator—are you all right?”

  “Y… yes,” she managed, straightening.

  Neima stared, stunned.

  Why would she deliberately lie?

  “You have lied, Senator,” Linceuil declared.

  “Yes. And I am prepared to accept the consequences. But is Senator Neima willing to deny my claim?”

  Neima’s jaw tightened.

  By lying openly, she had given weight to her provocation in the eyes of the public.

  “I remind you,” Linceuil continued, “that assisting in the identification of Half-Chosen is entirely legal—and even encouraged by Eile?n. I have no knowledge of any such communiqué concerning Senator Neima.”

  Publicly, the Truth applied to all in Linceuil’s presence—himself included.

  But Solana knew otherwise.

  Anastasia Castus had assured her: Linceuil was immune to his own divine power.

  “Then I assume he is prepared to deny it before you, Mr. President?” she pressed.

  Neima froze beneath her unwavering gaze.

  She risked losing her right to serve as Chief Senator. Why go so far—so far as to incriminate herself?

  Even if he confessed, the law favored him.

  What did she hope to gain?

  At this stage, her motives could only be personal.

  “I refuse to answer that question,” Neima declared sharply.

  A wave of stunned reactions swept through the chamber.