The Lotus didn't pretend to be fair. It pretended to be unforgettable.
Steel petals arced around the huge bowl, not neon, not gaudy. For the first time in too long, Raizen could see the sky. Cloud-thick and layered, but real sky all the same, a soft wash of white and gray that let sun through in sheets. Sunlight slid between the petals and laid long bars across the stands and floor.
There were a lot of people.
Tiers of seats climbed in neat rings. Every level was full - families squeezed together, students in matching jackets, old-timers with thermoses, vendors weaving with trays, bettors waving slates. Conversations stacked: gossip, odds, warnings, tiny arguments that ended in laughter because it was morning and the show hadn't given anyone a reason to be angry yet. Drones drifted like patient birds, their lenses blinking as they threw faces up onto the big screens that hung under the petals.
