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.LP \& .ce .sp |4.25i .PP .ps 12 .CW ░ Down the silo, nobody really understood what was happening. Didn't even know they were siloed. Each official's subjective experience was inescapably mediated by convention, solidified by tradition, congealed into .I de facto .R law through the nominal style in which they carried out their work day. Nobody had time to question minor irregularities, or to indulge in long\-term thinking. This predictably affected the success rate of self\-preservation. Life here was brief, if rarely properly violent. .PP .ps 12 The senators were idiots. .PP .ps 12 Thomas had considered running for office, but was reminded at intervals of his longstanding prohibition against accumulating personal power. He found himself jolted rudely by the clownish machinations of these elected officials, down the hole. Working closely such a buffoonish collection of small\-minded crooks kept him honest. .PP .ps 12 Piotr climbed the step ladder and adjusted a dilapidated sign above the entrance of the senate chamber. "Let The Stress Begin," it read. .PP .ps 12 Legislating \fIwas\fR stressful, Thomas knew. He couldn't begin to imagine the pressure these brave men and women must be under, what with carrying out their duties during this present emergency, whatever it was, and simply tolerating each other, day in, day out. .PP .ps 12 "Stress is right," he heard one of them complain as they passed under Piotr's sign. .PP .ps 12 A freshman. .PP .ps 12 Ralph lay spread eagle on the floor of the senate chamber. Unconscious. Nude. .PP .ps 12 "See if his dick's cold," Piotr commanded. .PP .ps 12 Thomas touched the tip of his data glove to the bell\-end of Ralph's penis. It was cold. Instantly, his visor lit up with sensor data. .PP .ps 12 "It's like I always say," Piotr continued, "Where there's smoke, there's a phenomenon that induces the perception of smoke." Still worryingly chatty. .PP .ps 12 "Too true," Thomas agreed, scanning on all wavelengths for a source of heat. But there was no there, there. .PP .ps 12 Ralph's entire body was cold. .PP .ps 12 Why was Ralph here, now? Why, after all these years, had he tracked them down, seemingly at the direction of the enemy? .PP .ps 12 Piotr had clammed up after that second day of questioning. Thomas figured the chatterbox routine had taken its toll and his partner would need some downtime to recharge his batteries. This left Thomas to his own devices, which were, conspicuously, still fully operational. He'd have to wing it. .PP .ps 12 It had been many years since any of them had seen Ralph. For all they knew he could have gone into politics, might even have already been here, on Mars, under a different name and job title. Thomas had always assumed Ralph was dead. .PP .ps 12 The evidence to the contrary was damning. First of all, Ralph's approach to the silo had been all wrong. Anyone with his background should have realized the peripheral awareness would detect him. Or even the RAGNAROK, for fuck's sake. But not Ralph. And here he was wearing the uniform of a hostile force. Something about this scenario was suspicious, all right. .PP .ps 12 Thomas paused the investigation. It was time for lunch.