He flicks on the consul so as to get the six o'clock news.  An announcer sits in front of the Original Executive crest containing a bust of Aristotle surrounded by an olive wreath.

--- So once again the government has begun the process of negotiating a new treaty with The Alternates.  Emphasis has been placed upon an increased commitment to human rights, in return for a release of intellectual property.  Calls for an amendment to the Alternate Constitution -- allowing for a referendum on slavery -- have been rejected, with a reply by Polycrates that Alternation is an independent republic.

Archimedes widens his blue eyes at the mention of the field of propulsion.  Visions of Alternate Executive auxiliary rockets come into view, the off and on cycles creating series of explosions behind the thrust nozzle.  It is obvious to him that they covet the secret of manufacturing of zircon so as to do away with phased induction, an exhaust cycle which would allow the motors to be used in the continuous phase mode.

As long as good old Earth favors us over them, and they don't break our codes, we should be safe, he thinks to himself, at least as far as having the technological edge.  They don't want to outlaw slavery, the heathen bastards, but they sure as hell want our technology.  He violently hits the desk.

"What do you think of the order of slavery, Thracian?" he asked, hoping that the noun wouldn't offend the manual worker.  He needn't have worried.  The man didn't catch on, merely grunting as he lugged the cleaning apparatus over the sill, the reduction in the wheel's spin -- now that they were on the night routine -- making the task easier.

"That's all I need," the laborer muttered. "Work like a dog for stuff I don't want, because it is the only way to get paid?  No thank you!"

"Come on man, maybe you want a better toaster, dishwasher or even your own space shuttle?"

"Six hours a day, a few days per week, is all I need.  If I wanted to drive myself crazy, I move over to Alternation over there."  He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, and turned on the machine, which let out a protesting howl.

Archimedes flicks the channel.  The camera pans across the Alternates' habitats.  On the edges can be seen construction robots, moving great steal beams into place, the welders emitting blue light and a shower of silver sparks...

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About the author: Read Mike Haran's essays on history at http://www.geocities.com/manzikertca/

Email: manzikertca@yahoo.com

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