"History forms itself in cycles that we cannot change. We can only affect how easily we ride them."

Luka turned her chair to better face the desk computers. Har had pleaded with her to have more than one system in her personal study--may Deus know why she had ever agreed--and the sight of the mounted lens focusing upon her face almost caused her to suppress a shudder. -I look so young,- she caught herself thinking as the feedback monitor recorded her involuntary blink at herself. -Steady. It's your job to carry these things out. -

"Even wars will find a natural end, as the counterweighting tide will eventually roll over towards their surcease. Indeed, it has been rather impressive that the conflict between Aveh and Kislev has continued ever since the Diabolos." All Solarian interference aside. "The fact is, quite simply, that we of Solaris risk losing our own capacities if we do not accept the long overdue shift in global sentiment. Not only that, but the M Project studies and demihuman experiments continue to point to instabilities of the Solarian genotype in the enclosed environment we have created. The rise of Second and Third Class citizens within performance scores cannot be denied.

“In other words… another infusion of fresh blood is required to keep the rot from continuing to set.”

As she had told Kelvena so long ago—there is a very good reason that First Class bloodlines have punishments of reprogramming and reuse more frequently than the Soylent System. -Their bodies have been reared on chemicals provided by Solaris, and further accustomed to artificial manipulations even with the very water they drink. It is –not- due to their priviledge of birth.-

-It is because, quite simply, they do not taste as good.-

"While we may have seperated ourselves from the societies of the surface dwellers, we cannot escape entirely from the species.” Not yet. But she had to learn patience, didn’t she? “We must--”

When the dizziness hit this time, it did so with a vengeance. "Parousia," she had time to gasp, "fill in the gaps for me."

The voice picked up and continued on for her... as it always did.

From a distance, the words which stretched themselves next stickily upon the air came with less of a benevolent note--almost a hallmark of her voice these days--than an unconcerned machine's precision. It did not wait to see a smile from another before continuing. These were words which were spoken as a scientist would. Or one who thought in numbers, not in people.

Visuals of her would be cut off to hide her lapse, she knew--to be replaced by informational footage. The propeganda machines would later smooth over any ideas to make them palatable to the tiers of people stacked outwards, watering down the message and removing the more debatable points in time to reach the general public. That, too, was a sort of game all its own. Speak plainly to those whose duty is it to write up the advertising, and they would work all the better for believing themselves a part of the elite in the know.

"Just as peace is only the time for nations to reload, so is war only the space given to allow excesses of energy to work themselves off. The economy and social morality factors respond appropriately. After enough time passes when nations swear never to harm another again, they will turn to arms even in their sleep.

"However, even though the SolAveh peace is a construct towards a greater goal, it must still be -sincere-." The voice sounded quite adamant about that. "History behaves in cycles, as we well know it. In order to continue the dynamism of cultures and the species, the efforts that will be put forward must be done in truth. Anything less will prove the poison at its roots when the time comes for the harvest.

"Dissent is normal in any time of change--indeed, in any time of stability as well. A natural amount will be tolerated, but any undue rebellions of morale or behavior will -not- be acceptable. Those who are too stubborn to accept leaders should not have Kings or Ministries with Emperors.

“We are playing by the rules of the structure of humanity and its parts, and it -will- be accepted. We have no time for the luxury of squatting around campfires and slapping one another with clubs to prove a hierarchy.”

-Easy enough for -it- to say,- Luka thought darkly, resting back against the chair as she tracked the slow crawl of numbness across her fingertips. -Now, if only society would stop immedietely dismissing anything it did not understand as being worthless, and requiring no respect. I would like to refuse becoming a dictator, but it seems at times as if there is no other way. -

-Well. A good thing I gave up my right to care about my personal future. Even if they continue to think me a simpleton, what must be done will be done.- The report from the other night still troubled her, though--although it was hardly to cause surprise. Take any continent half a world away, or a matter entirely unrelated, and suddenly you had every human with a mind to it declaring that -they- would have known better. -They- would not have to compromise, or appear foolishly idealistic to others.

-People often assume that their existance grants them automatic rights... that there is a power to be granted to them for the ability of moving about and breathing. They think that they are justified to automatic value simply because of their existances and to what they want to choose.-

-Meat puppets enslaved to themselves.-

"Voice code confirmation denied. Please repeat voice confirmation for completion."

Luka set her hands against her face to steady herself, the chill that had settled into them helping to steady her thoughts. "Yes.” While she had been thinking, the voice had finished its speech. Should she review it? -No, I can read it when the copy is automatically delivered to my mail.- “Affirmed by F... by Luka Kalval."

"Acknowledged, Regent." The seal of the Emperor folded itself around the datastream and drew the information away into the network, to be distributed as required to the ranks of officials who would implement more subtle ways to package and foresee the acceptance of the message.

Luka's thoughts were disrupted by another spasm of dizziness, turning the world dark and shifting around her. The back of a hand clamped itself against her mouth, willing the nausea to subside. -Too weak for this,- she reminded herself again. -But I'm the only well that can be drawn upon these days... except for Tsukai, and I don't want to see him used up.- Something stirred again inside her chest, and she could not tell if it was her body continuing to struggle against its attached mind or that vague and terrible hunger.

-Too weak… I’m being torn up, I know.- Sprawled upon the thankfully cool surface of her desk, Luka buried her face against her arms. -It would be so good to rest. But there’s no one who is there…-

No one. But that could change. Sometimes… it was better to let things feast than to let them feed on you.

By Luka on Friday, June 15, 2001 - 05:13 pm:

STUPID MESSAGE! POST CORRECTLY NEXT TIME!

*KICKS the board*

Sorry for double posting. Brin, is it too much of a bother to have the previous version of this removed? I'm sorry to be a difficulty... ^^;