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Two tall grey skined, long fingered halfbreeds sat on the stone steps of a small ampitheatre from the VI times. One of them, Roy, was starring at the empty stage visualizing a play he was in the middle of composing. The other, Charles, was leaning back on his elbows wearing dark glasses, shaking his head and laughing to himself.

"This has got to be the weirdest thing since they crowned the twentyforth Dalai Lama Pope of the Vatican in exile..."

"What the hell are you talking about, Charles?"

Charles took off his glasses and looked at Roy. "Weren't you paying any attention in history?" He handed Roy, his fellow excentric Venusian, what appeared to be a set of dark sunglasses - an actual halographic recording of a recent meeting of Kings and Cousins. "Blythe actually has a spy in their inner court. Earth stuff."

"Ah..." Roy said as he examined the glasses, mildly curious, before putting them on...

Roy saw a large golden table with thirteen men wearing black masks sitting in thrones, and many very well and fancily dressed people sitting behind them.

"Will they ever understand that all we want to do is to help them? To educate them and civilize them? To bring them into this modern age where people are happy and... uhh... well fed and taken care of... employed..."

"Look we all agree on these things, there's no -"

"Not a single person in the empire is starving, not a single person in the empire is killing anyone else in the empire, no one lacks medical care... no one could ask for a better life than the life of any one of our 27 billion happy citizens."

"I guess their few million know something our 27 billion don't?"

(some laughter)

"These people dare to accuse us of taking away the freedom of our own people!"

"This is absurd."

"What we do with our people is our business! If they don't like it they should move to.... uhh.... die!"

"For one, there are 108 million in the Mass Self Discipline and not a single one of them is there for any other reason than that they choose to be."

"Yet their employees are happier than any peasants or proletariat have ever been. Taking away their freedom of choice? Nonsense. When they're hungry they get the best nutrients available for their bodies..."

"And! they can choose from any of the many thousands of sensations behind that... uhh.... Yellow M, or they can choose any of the thousands of sensations behind the Pink Bell, or any other of hundreds of tastes... they can choose to listen to whatever music they want to, while they work, they can spend their credits on any sensation they could possibly imagine!"

"Look we all agree on these things, there's no reason to -"

"What could they possibly want that they don't have? Hmm? What could they possibly think they're fighting for that they can't find right there in Paradise??"

"Every single one is placed in the niche most comfortable and appropriate for it... ...er... him... or her, of course... them."

"The Resistence must be stopped no matter what the cost. The harder we hit them, the worse they get. The more we employ, the more fierce the remaining get."

"They choose the sewers over our beds! They choose their Black Web over our Paradise!"

"Why won't they just except the Empire and let us protect them? What could they possibly want that we can't provide them?"

"Look we all agree on these things, why are we even -"

"Clearly they are a disease that must be cured. That settles it then. We will quadrouple our efforts to vanquish them. They will join Paradise or they will die resisting."

"Either way, the Resistance will be extinct."

"All in favor?"

"Aye" "Aye" "Aye" "Aye" "Aye" "Aye" "Aye" "Aye" "Aye" "Aye" "Aye" "Aye" "Nay"

"What is it, William?"

"...Lucy?"

"Yes... I have a request. I want Blythe."

"Excuse me?"

"She is one of the leaders. We captured her once before and somehow she's back in the subways. I want her brought to me, alive. Under this one condition, and only under this condition will my father agree to these terms."

"What do you intend to do with her?"

"It doesn't matter. She's an animal."

"Oh...kay... well, does anyone object?"

...

"Alright then, request granted."

"Then... Aye."

(*Knock*)

"So be it."

Roy took off the glasses. "Earth is weird."

"I know," Charles replied, shaking his head.

Roy gave the glasses back to Charles, "So... is she talking about Blythe as in... your girlfriend Blythe?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

Charles folded up the glasses. He and Roy watched the large sun set behind the cliffs of Aphrodite.