Bright's Light by Susan Juby

officers’ limbs and halted his progress.
    “I am here to help,” Grassly said.
    The favour called Bright surprised him. “That light,” she said. “What exactly is it doing to people?”
    “That’s a very direct question,” he said, hoping to distract her.
    It didn’t work. She waited for an answer with her hands balled at her sides.
    “Well,” he said. Long pause. “The light … the light is …” He glanced at the blond boy. “The light makes ancesto—people intoxicated.”
    “Intoxicated by fuuuuun!” sang the favour called Fon, almost involuntarily.
    “Essentially. That’s the general idea,” said Grassly. “The light is next-generation alteration. It’s being developed specifically by the House of It
for
the House of It.”
    Bright’s face showed signs of deep concentration. “But it doesn’t work on me or Fon,” she said.
    “No. It doesn’t,” he agreed.
    “Intoxicaaaatiiiinnnggg!” sang Fon.
    Grassly was pleased with his newly discovered talent for improvisation. “Yes. The House of It has just created this new style of light-induced alteration. Very …” He searched his mind for words they might appreciate: “next-level.”
    The boy on the floor still struggled to free himself from the tangle of bodies.
    “Our light alteration is so new and so radically improved that most of the PS staff don’t know about it yet. As a result, there have been some misunderstandings with regard to the behaviour of clients and favours during the testing process.” Grassly spread his arm to take in the room. “As you can see.”
    “They don’t usually care if we get altered. I mean, we’re always kind of—” Bright waggled her head and stiffly flailed her arms from side to side as though trying to dislodge her brain.
    “Yes, well, this light alteration doesn’t look like anything most PS staff have seen before. They are confused about what’s happening. Some of them have gotten the wrong idea.”
    “So shouldn’t you and the other people from It just tell them?” she asked.
    Grassly was taken aback by how reasonable her questions were and by the orderliness of her logic, particularly given the situation around her.
    “Well,” he said. “We are very exclusive. So elite, you might say, that we can’t share our, ah, secret light alteration formula with anyone at the wrong level. The Deciders aren’t ready for this to become general knowledge.” He dropped his voice to an exclusive whisper. ”
At
the lower levels.
“
    “Hello!” said Fon. “It’s a House of It thing! He can’t go telling low-credit people about it. It’s all part of the test. We need to get with the program. We need to go along to get along.”
    Grassly nodded. That was the sort of unquestioning acceptance he’d been looking for.
    “Exactly,” he said. “Go along to get along. I like that. Please do exactly that.”
    “Yes, but …” said Bright, gesturing at Slater, who was still trying to free himself from the pile of bodies.
    Smart, critical beings were trickier than unintelligent, unquestioning ones, Grassly reflected, and for the thousandth time he wished he’d chosen to rescue slaks or something else in the space slug family.
    “He will sober up when he gets to the Natural Experience. After a time. We think.”
    Both favours gasped, clasped both hands to their mouths, and gave simultaneous shudders of distaste.
    “The Natural Experience!” said Bright.
    “How’s he going to get
there
?” asked Fon.
    “You will have to take him.”
    “But I
can’t
!” Fon wailed. “It’s awful there. I think it might be bad for my skin!”
    He pretended not to hear her. “When you transport him, you cannot allow yourselves to be seen by any PS officers. In particular, no one can know that you two worked the third shift at the House of Gear today. The uninformed have some wrong ideas about that shift.”
    “Do you know how many PS officers usually support me?” said Fon, posing with her fist under her