CHAPTER SEVEN
In the cab, I sanitize the hand that touched Fluffster’s fur and open Leal’s journal.
Oh boy. There’s a lot of boring stuff here—experiments on his poor birds and pages upon pages of stream of consciousness on mundane issues, including such gross bits as records of his bowel movements.
I search for Soma as a keyword and find nothing, just as Felix warned me.
Disappointed, I settle in and just read. Eventually, I come across what Felix mentioned—paranoid-sounding ramblings about a secret society.
They worship Phobetor, the lord of nightmares. They think him a god. Does he exist? If so, what is he? Could he be a creature that is to Cognizant what we are to humans?
I try to parse that paragraph:
There are worlds where we, the Cognizant, are worshipped as gods. In fact, th
