“How do we know who to vote against?” asked Mathro. “Everyone has their own methods. The candidates spend months making up lies about one another. That’s a dangerous game, though. Some people prefer to vote against the obvious liar, while others enjoy the spectacle so much they vote against whomever’s stories are the least salacious. Some people vote against the candidate who presents the most harmful policies, and of course that itself is a point of contention, while others vote against the candidate who keeps bringing up boring talk of policy rather than a proper mudslinging. Rather than governing, seated representatives spend most of their time creating traps for their political adversaries in order to swing votes against them in the next election. It’s a system born of deceit and propaganda, and ultimately you have to admit that the information you’ve received is so unreliable that you may as well flip a coin.” Diani raised her hand, and Wicksap nodded to her. “My father says he voted against Hefstus two years ago because Elder Rodity said that Hefstus once dug a canal through a graveyard just so he could attach a waterwheel to his house to turn a fan by his bed.” “Which was demonstrably false!” said Wicksap with a smile. “Hefstus invited people for tours of his home to disprove the story, but Rodity repeated it loudly enough and with such conviction that he handily won the election. People voted against the man accused of desecrating a graveyard to afford himself a minor comfort, not the man who spread lies.” Diani’s hand shot up again. “But now they’re saying that Rodity filled the canal with rocks and that’s why Hefstus died of stale air over the winter.” “That’s exactly the method, my girl. Hefstus is both alive and running against Rodity this fall, and now he has to prove to the people that he’s not an impostor, a zombie, or any of a dozen undead creatures that Rodity could accuse him of being. That’s an odipublic in action!”