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The Death of Money
Part 51 Fellowship

Part 51 Fellowship

I didn’t think I’ d be in here again, Yeung-Sung thought, sitting down in the Player’s Market General hub. Unlike at the meeting concerning Airgead’s AI, the large hall wasn’t an empty theatre made to fit as many people as possible. Instead, it was laid out like a college common room with beanbags like old dumplings in each corner, several thin glass desks in studious rows and water coolers against the curved wall.

PM had no leader per say, their manifesto wouldn’t allow for one, but Luke, their speaker was across the table from Yeung-Sung. He was focused on organizing the chat meeting on his phone with one hand while also organizing some staff off to the side, nodding along to their ideas and offering his suggestions.

The only other person in the hall that he knew was Shirley, who was the only member of the Wick who was able to put aside their disgust for PM, as well as put their trust in Yeung-Sung and help him. Legs together, he had managed making the act of lounging in a beanbag look uncomfortable. Luke had made it clear that Shirley would not be permitted to take part in their chat -too much private information would be on display- but there was no objection to him coming long for moral support. Yeung-Sung tried a smile, which Shirley cardboard copied back to him.

I have to agree with Shirley here, this is a cold reception.

Dismissing the housekeepers, Luke apologized for keeping him waiting.

“You want something. Some tea? Go on, you’ll have some tea.”

“Ahh… sure.”

Yeung-Sung tried another smile, but it didn’t feel right, just made his face hurt.

Luke made a pouring gesture to one of the staff as they walked out and nodded. “Right,” he said, crossing his legs over arm of his seat, “Down to business.”

He stretched out the too-short sleeves of his red jacket.

“You really think you can do this? I’m giving you this chance by laying my own reputation on the line, I hope you understand that.”

Yeung-Sung bowed. “I do.”

He didn’t see any confidence in Luke, but the speaker nodded anyway. Yeung-Sung though, had a niggling thought.

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“Uh, by the way,” he asked, “Where are you from?”

Luke dropped his arms, holding them hand-over-fist together and swerved, as if he was at a photo shoot and was switching between poses.

“I’m Italian, actually.”

He heard something from the corner. Yeung-Sung exchanged glances with Shirley and looked back, a lopsided look on his face. “Really?”

“Ugh,” Luke groaned. He threw his hands in the air like he was a confetti shower.

“Italian-American.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Okay, okay. Italian-Canadian.”

Yeung-Sung wanted to probe further but stopped himself. I can believe that, but is that really true? Then again, does it matter? This colony is nothing if not diverse. I suppose there’s a point to that.

Fucking Jordan.

Luke went back to his phone after the questioning. Tapping away, scrunching his mouth up while he waited, his gaze wandered up at Yeung-Sung.

“I sent you an invite. Let’s get started. I’ll type out introductions in the chat.”

“Oh, right.”

Even though his phone was on him at all times and he was periodically checking Airgead, it was a while since he’d participated in a chatroom. Fumbling the phone out, he logged in and lay Airgead down flat on the table in front of him.

Luke sent him a look said ‘What are you doing? Let’s go’ but Yeung-Sung’s situation had only kicked in now.

Wait, I have no idea what I am doing. How will I beat MEDB? Even if I was to cheat, I’d need a way to communicate with her -and in here that’s far too risky here. In the middle of PM?

He saw Luke grow ever more suspicious, so once more he tried a smile. But this time his face was frozen solid and he knew why.

Why did he even entrust me with this? I made one bold claim -an absurd thing to say- and even added to that the fact that I threatened to depose his “God”, yet they were desperate enough to give me a chance. What am I supposed to do? What can I tell them?

Luke cleared his throat. “I want to get one thing ironed out before we start.”

He locked is hands together, elbows on the table and held up his chin dominantly. “These are my people, got it? There are no leaders in PM, but there are a lot of egos, and a lot of people who would love to take my place should I be found incompetent.”

He leaned over to one elbow and pointed at Yeung-Sung’s phone. “So, in the chat you are to respectfully give advice, nothing more than that. Do not -do not undermine me in front of them.” He flicked the finger up towards his face.

“Got any feedback? you tell me here, across this table. He clinked his knuckles off a glass, “Not in the chat.”

Yeung-Sung simply nodded.

Egos indeed, this won’t be like my gauntlet attempt with The Wick, will it?

However, Shirley wasn’t having it. A bubbly rumble sounded as he rose from the beanbag.

“You start threatening my friend, I’m gonna-”

“Shirley, relax.” He waved him down again with his hand. Yeung-Sung tried to not show his own astounded reaction when Shirley nodded and obeyed without question.

I don’t like this. It was just words that I said, why is everyone taking me so seriously?

Underneath the table he planted his arm between his thighs, about wrist deep. He slammed his legs together and pulled. Good, it’s stuck -like a root.

“Okay, I understand. Advice only,” he said and bowed. “Introduce me.”