Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
A small table emerged from the floor, bearing six coffees in metal insulated tumblers of various colors. I took one and offered it to Kosandion.
“Thank you.” He opened the tumbler and sipped. “Delicious.”
It was interesting how he never simply accepted a gift or a favor. He always thanked you and then made sure to indicate that he valued your gift.
I handed the blue tumbler to Resven. He gave it a suspicious look, unscrewed the top, and took a drink. His eyes widened.
I kept one tumbler for myself and sent the rest through the floor to Sean, Gaston, and Tony.
“You are a saint,” Tony said.
Sean saluted me with his tumbler.
“Nectar of the gods,” Gaston murmured.
“…so how can we define ‘here’ if time is constantly flowing, since a single instant in which we anchor our definition will end in that moment?” Nycati wondered.
Prysen Ol smiled. “That concept is predicated on the belief that time actually passes, that it moves and, further, that said movement is measurable. I will concede no such thing. In fact, I reject entirely the notion that time can be reduced to infinite numbers. Rather, it’s best expressed through finite numbers. There is a limit to their precision, for nature is inherently random, chaotic, and imprecise.”
First Scholar Thek clapped his clawed hands in delight.
Orata held her hands in front of her, palms up, fingers spread, as if trying to bring an invisible melon to her face. The Dominion’s gesture for pleading. She was begging me to end it.
I accessed the First Scholar’s earpiece. “We have to cut this short.”
“But it’s so invigorating,” he whispered.
“My time is finite!” another knight yelled from House Meer. “Every moment that passes, or doesn’t, saps my will to live.”
“We concur,” the Donkamins announced in a chorus.
“You know why you’re here?” Surkar jumped to his feet. “To win!”
Applause broke out through the arena. He raised his arms, accepting the ovation, and flexed his award-winning biceps.
“And the debate goes to the otrokar,” Kosandion murmured.
I turned the First Scholar’s egg white.
“Alas,” the First Scholar announced. “We are out of time. It has truly been a pleasure. Please return to your seats.”
“Who won?” someone from Team Smiles yelled.
“Who cares?” a female otrokar yelled back. “We all lost.”
Gaston stepped forward. “We shall resume the trial after a short recess. Please take advantage of the refreshments to regain your strength for the second half.”
Refreshment trays sprouted from the floor.
On my screen Orata exhaled happily and went back through the portal.
“What’s the schedule of the dates after the debate?” Kosandion asked.
“Oond of the oomboles, followed by the Donkamin candidate,” Resven said.
“Has it been announced?”
“No, Letero,” the chancellor said.
“Switch Oond with Ellenda,” Kosandion said.
“Yes, Letero.”
Sean was still down in the arena. I whispered into the mike. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, his voice warm. “What’s up?”
I hesitated. This was kind of stupid. I could see him. He was right there. But we’ve been so busy these last few days. Normally we spent our time together. We weren’t glued at the hip, but we usually ate together. We did chores together. At night we settled into a comfortable room I made for us off our new joint bedroom, and we played video games or watched TV with Beast and Olasard.
We hadn’t been able to do any of that. I felt like I barely saw him, which was somehow worse than not having him here at all, like when he went on his excursions with Wilmos. I missed him but saying it out loud seemed too needy.
“Are you okay?”
“I miss you,” he said.
“I miss you, too.”
“Young love,” Gaston purred.
“Disgusting,” Tony said with mock derision. “If it wasn’t for the mission, I would mute you both.”
A trumpet-like sound pulsed through the arena, announcing the end of the break.
Surkar of the otrokars stared at Oond in his fishbowl. This was clearly not the opponent he would’ve preferred. Too bad for him. The orbs had been set up at random. Even I didn’t know which was which.
“Am I supposed to debate a fish?” he demanded.
“Xenophobia has never led anyone to a path of enlightenment,” the First Scholar told him.
Surkar raised his eyes to the sky briefly, as if inviting the sun to witness his tribulations. He was about to debate a space fish, and their discussion would be presided on by a space chicken. This was not a trial appropriate to his stature. His hero-of-the-Horde image was taking a bit of a beating, but throwing a fit about it would make him look like a fussy baby and he knew it.
“Ask your question,” he growled.
“What is best in life?” the First Scholar announced. “You have one hundred moments to consider.”
Oh, sweet Universe. “Sean, I know it was you,” I whispered.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sean said.
“We just rewatched that movie a month ago.”
“Let’s see what he says.”