Chapter 14: The Virtues of Simplicity

The short-handled tomahawk axe spun through the air, a little whispering hiss sounding off as it flew forward. With a violent little thock, the bladed edge of the axe embedded itself into a thick wooden board.

Nephrite grabbed a second tomahawk axe from the table in front of him, looking down the empty range at the target at the other end. He reached up to his right at the wall, flipping a little switch. The wooden board started to glow a gentle green, and then began slowly moving to the left of the range, levitating along the back wall via a small anti-gravity pad.

He tossed the axe up in the air, letting it spin around above him, before catching the handle on its way down. As the wooden board began to move back to the right of the range, he cocked his arm back and flung it across the empty room.

A few beats later, it hit its mark, sticking into the wood after hitting it with significant force. Before he could grab another axe, the door behind him opened, drawing his focus. He turned around, watching a large, broad-shouldered man with white hair enter the range.

"Want to do a competitive round?" Nephrite asked.

"Not right now," Kunzite replied, coming up to the brown-haired Earth general. "I just have a few questions, actually."

Nephrite turned back around, eyeing the moving target as he lifted a third axe up in front of him. "Go right ahead."

"How's your network these days?" Kunzite asked, throwing a surreptitious glance around the room.

"Nine hundred...sixty-two," Nephrite answered. "Still humming along, nice and quiet."

"Sounds good," Kunzite replied. "So, these...nine hundred and sixty-two. How do you pick them? What kind of criteria do you use to decide who's going to be brought in?"

"Two things, primarily," Nephrite answered. He paused for a moment to hurl the axe down the range, again striking the target, this one landing right next to the first two. "Loyalty to the Crown, and general competency."

"Loyalty," Kunzite repeated. "How do you mean that?"

"Well, these people, it's important that they maintain their normal lives even as they work for me. Go about their lives as normal. You know, nobody around them can suspect a thing. But, through all of that, their willingness to reporting information through the network, so that it gets up to me, needs to remain. Not always easy, you might learn things that are uncomfortable to share, detrimental to you, you might be put in a situation where it's dangerous to pursue information. But, your priority has to remain to working in service of the Crown."

"So, these spies, they're...loyal to you above all else?" Kunzite asked. "They consider your orders to take priority over all other concerns?"

Nephrite was sizing up another toss, reaching up to adjust a knob on the wall, making the target start to move faster. "Yes."

"Even if you were to...order them to do something illegal?" Kunzite questioned.

Nephrite, preparing to hurl another axe across the room, froze in his windup for several beats, then turned to look at Kunzite.

"Are you...accusing me of something?" Nephrite asked, lowering the bladed weapon to his side.

"Not at all," Kunzite assured him. "I'm simply asking. If you asked the members of your spy network to participate in illegal activities, could we count on them to agree to that? Or at the very least, not report you for requesting such?"

Nephrite thought for a moment, then turned back to the moving target at the other end of the range. "Yes."

"It wouldn't have to be all of them, just...how many of them do you think are completely trustworthy? Whatever the number may be, a hundred, five hundred, just...really think about it. Only the ones that you think are really waterproof here."

"All of them," Nephrite insisted. "All of them are completely trustworthy, or else I wouldn't have allowed them in."

He threw the axe across the room, watching it spin rapidly in the air before hitting the target, true and straight, just where he wanted to put it.

"Now, Kunzite. How about some context to these questions?" Nephrite turned to look over his shoulder.

Kunzite placed his hand on Nephrite's shoulder. "Let's go see the Prince."

"

"We're sorry for keeping this from you for the last several cycles, it was purely in the interest of keeping things on a strictly need-to-know basis. In the event that things went poorly and we got caught, we wanted to keep the damage to a minimum." Kunzite put his elbows on his knees, leaning forward from his seated position on the edge of the bed.

Nephrite, expression stoic and non-indicative, leaned back on the small green couch in the middle of his private chambers. Other than a punching bag hanging from the ceiling in the near right corner and a set of dumbbells in the far right corner, the room was much like Kunzite's room. Simple, sparse, uninteresting, plain, and little more than functional.

"It has nothing to do with us questioning your ability to keep a secret," Kunzite continued. "In any case, we need a way to distribute our product to the masses, and given the way our first foray into that went, we think that it might be a good idea to keep things as in-house as possible. So, if your spy network could be utilized in this way, I think it could be beneficial to all of us."

Endymion stood right behind Nephrite, looming right behind the small couch, hands loosely gripping into the backrest of the seat, head down and eyes on his general.

"Now, of course, it is illegal, so it's imperative that everyone we bring in on this is completely trustworthy. We understand that these people were recruited by you for information collecting purposes, and they may struggle to transition to a role like this. It's inevitable that some of your men will get arrested, although we can mitigate the effect of that as long as we're careful. And there's danger here beyond that, we're going to end up stepping on the toes of some established dealing networks and they may not like it. So, I understand you might have some concerns, and me and Endymion are more than willing to work to vet them." He lifted his arms up in front of him a bit. "So. What do you think?"

Nephrite looked around his room slowly for a few moments, still giving away nothing. He looked up over his shoulder at Endymion, then turned his gaze back to Kunzite.

"When do we start?"

Endymion slammed his palms down on the backrest of the couch. "Thank you!" he snapped. Nephrite and Kunzite both jumped a bit at the sudden outburst, looking over at the Crown Prince.

"Your Majesty?" Nephrite said cautiously.

"Sorry, sorry, I...I just...that's what I'm talking about!" Endymion nodded emphatically. "I appreciate that!" He punched his right hand into his left palm. "No second guessing, no judgements, no insults, just...how can I help?" He clapped Nephrite on the shoulder a couple times. "That's what I like to see! Don't get me wrong, I love Zoisite, great guy, great friend, but...you know, he gets a little catty about things. Just, I appreciate the way you handle stuff."

Nephrite shrugged. "Not my place to question your decisions."

"Yes, that...that's exactly what I mean, exactly what I'm looking for, thank you!" Endymion clapped his hands together. "So, you're on board?"

"Yes," Nephrite said firmly. "If that is how my spy network can best serve you, then that is what they will do."

"Of course, you understand that their ability to collect information for you would be severely limited if they're involved in this?" Kunzite asked.

"Not a hugely significant factor," Nephrite replied simply. "My efforts to create and expand the network is largely in preparation for when Endymion becomes King. Losing their intel is not something I'm concerned about right now."

"We can essentially start any time," Endymion said. "We have a significant amount of refined imperium ready to move. So it's up to you, Nephrite."

"Give me at least ten days. Maybe fifteen." Nephrite stretched his arms out along the top of the couch's backrest. "I'll need to establish some sort of chain of command, give them the opportunity to pick up on the best ways to sell imperium, establish layers. There might be a bit of a learning curve, I'll try to have as much of it as possible covered before we actually start."

"Your men will be paid for their service," Endymion added. "We'll work out an exact payment plan, but they'll be compensated for the risk."

"I'll start on it right away, Your Highness," Nephrite promised. "And, of course, nobody outside of the network will be told."

"

Transport Dock One of the Moon was the base most typically used for foodstuffs and other goods that required immediate attention in order to be kept in good shape. There were massive nearby rooms that were kept in cool, cold, or even freezing temperatures to assure that whatever needs the imports required could be met. A large ship, the ETS Samsara, had just settled down into one of the docking spots, nestling the grooves along the bottom of the ship into a series of corresponding gaps.

The large side doors on the Class E transport ship slowly swung open, revealing a large collection of slabs of meat, hanging from hooks dangling from the ceiling. A thin mist billowed out of the opened chamber, evidence of the fact that the ship's interior had been kept cold so that the meat would be preserved.

Queen Serenity clapped her hands together in front of her, looking out upon the rows of raw food. "You know what I could go for right now? A nice prime rib. Rock salt along the edges, of course."

"Well, the only question is where we'll get it from," Kasios joked, watching as a couple dozen men in brown uniforms ran past him into the cargo ship. With methodical precision, they each ran up to a row of meat, reaching up towards the hanging hooks with thin metal batons.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Serenity marveled as the slabs of meat began to gently hover in the air independent of the hooks, being guided out of the ship by the assorted dock employees. "And we didn't have to sell my right leg to get it."

"We've got nine more ships just like this one coming in hot," Kasios assured her. "Enough meat to...to...uh…"

"Thank you," Serenity interrupted, wrapping her slim right arm around Kasios's back. "It's such...it's so difficult, not being able to raise and breed livestock on the Moon. Can't grow anything either, it's...oh, frustrating." She put her left hand up to her forehead. "Such a relief, thank you so much."

"Hey, it's part of our deal," Kasios said. "And, mark my words, livestock will be bred on the Moon. Next couple years, you'll have flocks of...cows and pigs and chickens. Artificial fields, synthetic sunlight, really some amazing advances in that technology. Uh, crops too, all this...all this empty space on the Moon, just sitting there...it'll be put to use."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Serenity said wryly. "For nearly forty years now, my...my parents, advisors, everyone, telling me...oh, all this land is worthless for anything except...you know, the real estate, the key is to make sure enough people are here, we have to keep the population numbers up and tourism up. We can build housing, businesses, hotels, all that." She sighed. "It's been so much fun, trying to convince people to come live here when we don't have anything for them."

"It'll change," Kasios assured her. "I mean, not overnight, but...people are going to care about this place again." He jerked his head back and forth in a bit of an awkward nodding motion. "We'll get more water up here too, uh...that's a pretty big deal. It's going to be great, really. People are going to come right back when they see what this place is doing."

The stream of dock workers continued, pouring in and out of the ship, taking the hunks of food out of the ship and moving them into the dock.

"You know, you don't have to be here for this," Serenity pointed out. "I trust you, I'm not holding you here to make sure you didn't short me by a couple libras of beef or something. I know you've got important things going on. Shipments of goods, has to be pretty low on the list."

"No, no, I wanted to be here." He shrugged. "It's the first fleet, I wanted to be here for the first fleet, make sure we're good. Last thing I want is some jerk-off down on Earth sending up spoiled meat or something." His nose wrinkled as he scowled. "They'd do something like that, you know. Some of them, not...not all of them or anything. But I could see it. Hey, the freezer system screwed up, all that meat went bad, let's ship it up to the Moon, screw those guys. Not going to let it happen."

"It's just...I know there's a lot of stuff going on with your outside work lately," Serenity said. "I'd hate to pull you away from The Savery to be here for something like this."

"Mmhm." Kasios gave a little frown. "I-it's not like I'm an agent or a representative or something. I'm not blowing off my street patrol to be here, it's...it's not like that. We're fine."

"What's going on with that, anyway?" Serenity inquired, watching the unloaders continue to shuttle meat slabs out of the transport. "I saw the report that got sent out a little bit ago, I...Tuxedo Mask?" She gave a playful little grin, leaning up close to Kasios. "Is that for real? Did I read that right?"

Kasios slowly nodded. "Yup. Well, I...I don't know, really." He glanced about aimlessly. "Sounds nuts, doesn't it? Half the time, thinking about this case, I don't really believe it myself. I mean, I've been doing this long enough to have seen some pretty...crazy, psychotic, even stupid people getting involved in black market imperium, but this would be a different strain. You saw the outfit he's supposedly wearing?"

"The cape?" Serenity said. "What is he, six years old?"

"Might just be a myth. Maybe a joke, spread around, bunch of clowns deciding it'd be funny to pretend it was real." He rolled his eyes. "I mean, obviously, someone's making the pure stuff, someone's selling it, that's not imaginary." He scoffed. "And either way, at this point, that outfit sketch isn't going to help us at all. Every city on Earth has hundreds of goofballs walking around in that getup now, it may as well be the latest fashion trend."

"How do you do it, Kasios?" Serenity asked.

Kasios took a moment to watch the dock workers continue to quickly move the meat from the ship.

"What do you mean? Do what?"

"E-everything, I...do you have any comprehension of how amazing you are?" Serenity nodded. "All the things you've accomplished, it's...you do understand that it's staggering, right? Your reign alone has seen accomplishments that some royal houses wouldn't see across...three reigns. Universal currency, that was basically all you, I...when I was a little girl, nobody was even thinking about something like that."

"That wasn't all me," Kasios dismissed quickly. "You think something like that can happen because of one person? No, that took everybody. Including you, by the way."

"Sure, but you spearheaded it. And the deep space program, all that money and research and, just, everything." Serenity looked up at the skies. "Putting all that into something that's going to take...decades, probably, to pay off. If it wasn't for you stepping up, we'd probably still be in the planning stages. Nobody else wanted to commit to that."

"Hey, hey, Mercury and Neptune both had their part to play with that," Kasios insisted. "Jupiter too, actually. M-maybe I twisted some arms, made some promises, took some risks, but hey...it's a big universe out there, we've got to start uncovering it."

"And you're a high council member of the agency, and the Earth is enjoying a period of great prosperity and success, and this merger, it's...you should be very proud, is what I mean. I don't know how you do it. Don't know how you haven't...dropped dead of stress."

Kasios's small smile began to drop from his face, as he looked around at the meat slabs being transported all around him. "I just...I just don't see how we even have a choice," he muttered.

"How do you mean?" Serenity asked. "I don't think anyone would blame you if you took it easy a little bit, I...leave something for the rest of us."

Kasios sighed, slowly guiding Serenity away from the mouth of the transport ship, over to the left side, so they wouldn't be in the midst of the dock employees. "The way I see it...this galaxy is on its last chance. And people like me are the ones that decide what we do with that chance."

"I mean, from my perspective, things are going pretty darn great," Serenity disagreed. "All the amazing technological developments of the last few decades, we're...we're doing great. You're doing great."

Kasios's face twitched, shrugging. "Playing catch up, honestly. There's no way around it, we're running out of time. We've been living beyond our means for a long time now, it's going to catch up to us inside of a century."

"Well, we're...taking care of it. You, you're taking care of it. Those probe ships are out there, we're collecting data, before you know it we'll be finding brand new worlds loaded with resources. Maybe even other civilizations."

"Sure, it sounds great when you say it all like that," Kasios agreed. "But then...we actually have to find these worlds. Actually, scratch that, they have to actually exist first. And then we have to find them, verify that they have what we need, go there, bring the resources here, I...nothing's guaranteed here. And all the while, we've got a ticking clock." His face wrinkled. "Imperium reserves on The Savery are deep into red alert territory, you didn't hear that from me though...the handful of imperium veins we've got out there are yielding less and less every day. We're already ripping this galaxy apart trying to find more, combing through the asteroid belt desperately, coming up with crumbs."

"Well...you're doing everything that you can," Serenity said quickly, giving a bit of a crooked smile.

"We're in a race. Not a marathon, either, in the grand scheme of things we're in a sprint," he continued. "And I can't honestly say we're winning. Because as soon as we run out of imperium, turn out the lights, the party is over. There isn't enough coal or oil in the universe to power mining trips into deep space. So these last couple generations before we hit that critical point, we need to be engaged." He swallowed down hard. "We have to have the deep space program, and we have to be preserving every last carat of imperium out there, so...as far as I'm concerned, I don't have a choice. I have to do all this, or trillions of people are going to pay for it down the line."

Serenity couldn't help but let a bit of a gloomy look linger on her face at these musings on the part of the High King. "Almost makes...something like meat supplies seem insignificant. When you put it like that."

"Honestly, I almost feel like there's more I should be doing," Kasios muttered. "N-not with me, but...Endymion. I worry about him sometimes."

"He seems great to me," Serenity protested. "He's brilliant. Really nice too. Great young man, really. I promise I'm not just saying that."

"Oh, sure, I agree with all of that. Smart, nice, well-mannered, all that. Absolutely." He gave a tiny, throaty growl. "May as well have been raised in a laboratory environment, when you think about it. I didn't have any of the conditions growing up that he did. Maybe...maybe it was too sterile, you know?"

"I'm not sure I do," Serenity admitted. "What are you concerned about?"

"He's...he's soft. Not enough rough edges to be an effective King. I don't know if that makes sense to you, but...it's hard to be a ruler sometimes. There are going to be hard decisions, I'm just...I'm a little concerned about how he's going to handle those tough decisions when the time comes. And, given the situation with imperium in this galaxy, there's no way around it, he's going to have some tough calls to make. I can tell you this, the agency is likely to be tapping into the emergency reserve during his reign, so it'll be down to the nub."

"I think he'll find a way," Serenity said. "He's too smart to not understand. He'll figure it out."

"Sometimes I find myself thinking...is there any way I could hold the throne until I'm sixty?"

Serenity rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't even say that! If anyone deserves an early retirement, it's you, but you shouldn't even consider ruling past your fiftieth birthday!"

"Maybe." Kasios scowled. "Maybe the galaxy needs me, maybe that's more important than me getting to sleep in a little more in the morning."

"Then step down from the throne and stay on the council," Serenity suggested. "You can do plenty of good from there."

"Alright, alright, I'm being a prick. Depression-inducing prick." He forced a smile onto his face. "Why don't we, uh...get out of here, hit the Moon Palace, get something to eat?"

"

"The Crystal Clear Bookshop," Zoisite enunciated, holding up a sheet of paper with a colored piece of art drawn on it. A round, clear crystal, a perfectly round blue circle drawn along it's outer edges, with a red book on top of it. "Moderately successful chain of bookstores, four locations in Quentin City. Current owners, lovely couple, man turning sixty-five in a couple of cycles, ready to retire and looking for an injection of cash to give them something soft to land on."

"That's a good name," Endymion mused, arms crossed over his chest, examining the piece of artwork. "The Crystal Clear Bookshop."

"That's the new name," Zoisite clarified. "Current name is, uh, A Whole New World Bookstore, we'll be rebranding it. In any case, this couple, they were looking to sell each location individually, but I'll tell you, they're just over-the-moon about getting to offload it all on one buyer!"

"You've done well, Zoisite," Kunzite commended, nodding. "This is exactly what we need to make this work."

"Yeah, great work," Endymion agreed. "On the, uh, the bookstore thing." He pointed down below his feet. "Not on this carpet, definitely not on this carpet."

"Would you like me to change the carpet?" Zoisite asked.

Endymion grinned, only to have the smile slowly fade as Zoisite stared at him, evidently waiting the Crown Prince's answer.

"Your Highness?" Zoisite prompted.

"N-no, no, no, you...you don't have to change the carpet," Endymion rushed out quickly, waving his arm at Zoisite. "Gods, no, I...the color of the carpet in your personal chamber is not my business."

"Actually, Your Majesty, it is if you want it to be," Zoisite insisted.

"No, it's not!" Endymion insisted sternly. "It's not, I...sorry, go ahead with your story, w-what's the particulars?"

"So, here's what I've got. You go to King Kasios, tell him that you want to try your hand at running a small business, get some experience in the real world, and you want your trusted general and guardian, Zoisite, to manage things." He pointed at himself. "Hey, not like I'm warding off assassins and hitmen on a daily basis, I may as well do something. Anyway, you just need a small loan to cover the purchase of the business, one million one hundred thousand creds. They're knocking three hundred thousand off the price because we're buying all four locations, and another two hundred off because we're paying in paper bills, up front. We won't be finding a much better deal than that."

"Oh, frustrating," Endymion grunted, putting his right hand up to his temple. "Do you know how much money we have, in Kunzite's safehouse under the floorboards? Over seven million creds. Just sitting there, ready to go, practically begging to be spent on something just like this!"

"Trust me, Your Highness, this purchase needs to be unimpeachable." Zoisite cleared his throat. "In any case, it's easy enough to understand why a bookstore. I'm a nerd, nerds love books." He glanced over to his right, over at his bookshelf. One of the book slots on the top shelf had been vacated, as Nephrite had extracted a grey volume from the collection, squinting down at one of the early pages. "Put that down, you'll give yourself a stroke."

Nephrite shot his younger counterpart a withering look, but gradually closed the book in his hands and slowly moved to replace it on the shelf. "Seemed silly anyway."

"Yes, I know, not enough pictures," Zoisite retorted. "Anyway, The Crystal Clear Bookshop will be a store for any and all lovers of reading. Old-fashioned paper books and book chips, whatever your flavor is, we can provide. I'll make the occasional appearance for an event, everyone come and see the smartest man on Earth, pick up some reading material while you're in, you know how it is. It'll be a booming success immediately, profits will expand like a blowfish, and, at certain choice intervals, I will personally see to the occasional...fabricated purchase. Falsified inventory lists, fake receipts, just enough to bolster the profits by five percent. First year, I'd say we'll be able to wash...almost a million creds."

"Almost a million?" Endymion repeated.

"J-just the first year," Zoisite assured him. "It'll be such a big success, we'll open up new locations and expand the existing ones. I mean, it's a bookstore owned by the Crown Prince and one of his most trusted generals, it's going to draw a lot of attention. Give it time, the chain might become one of the biggest book distributors on Earth."

"This is going to be...a lot of money," Endymion reminded him. "A lot of money, very quickly, might I add."

"Well, you have me running things, so I'll see to it that all the right business decisions are made," Zoisite said.

"Your Highness, I think this is the best way to go," Kunzite chimed in. "I suggest you speak to your father as soon as possible about the loan, I imagine it should be a fairly simple matter."

"Alright then." Endymion clapped his hands together a few times, slowly turning towards Nephrite. "So. Now we just need a steady stream of money for Zoisite to wash. How are we looking?"

"Everyone has been informed and given time to prepare. At your word, over eight hundred individuals are prepared to begin selling imperium to street-level customers in cities all across the globe, with a further hundred plus handling logistics." Nephrite's expression remained stoic and flat as he spoke to his charge. "I can have them selling tomorrow if I get the product."

Endymion turned to look at Kunzite. "I think we can arrange for that."

"Will do," Kunzite said. "But, Your Highness, from now on, you're hands off. That's how this works. Your generals will handle every step of this process from here on out. As far as you're concerned, this imperium business isn't actually happening."

"I want updates on our progress," Endymion countered. "At first, at least. I need to make sure this is working effectively before I consider turning my attention away from it. I want updates on status every three days until this is stable and reliable."

"V-very well," Kunzite conceded. "Just, your child is due in a few cycles, that should be your priority and focus."

"I assure you, it is," Endymion replied. "Well, good job everyone, we'll be meeting again soon."

"

"A bookstore?" Serenity sat up, extending her legs out on the bed in front of her, propping herself up with her arms behind her. "Why do you need to run a bookstore?"

"Well, I'm not running it, I'm just financing it and helping make some macro decisions."

Endymion was sitting at his desk, holding a tiny, thin, yellow paintbrush in his right hand. A small collection of colored paints in little dishes was spread out in front of him, with a wooden instrument held up in a vice in front of him. A rod, perhaps three or four finger-lengths long, with a thin middle and rounded bulbs on either end, made of a dark brown wood. One of the bulbed ends was painted with sections of light blue, and Endymion was now using a soft green to fill in most of the spaces between. With a delicate, light stroking, he carefully placed little lines of paint onto the wooden object.

"Why? You're...you're a royal, why do we need money? Are we going through some sort of money crisis that I'm not aware of?" Serenity asked.

"I want some real-world experience. Business experience. I know all of the theories from my education, I know how it's supposed to work, I've done...countless readings about successes and failures, but I want to try to do it for myself." Endymion dipped the paintbrush into the green dish in front of him, wiping it off on the edge a couple times.

"I, I just...you know, I want you around as much as possible for the first few years, at least." Serenity looked down at her stomach. "Given our situation, there's no good reason why you shouldn't be able to, and I don't want something like you running a business to get in the way of that."

"It won't," Endymion promised, making a rough representation of the southeast continent of Earth on the wooden sphere. "Zoisite's running the day-to-day concerns, I'm just overseeing things from a distance. Not going to be any kind of time sink."

Serenity nodded. "Alright." She leaned over a bit, towards Endymion's handiwork. "So, are you sure that's thick enough? The bulbs, I mean? If it breaks, the shards could be dangerous."

"I'm quite confident a baby won't be able to break it," Endymion replied. "Unless he, or she, comes out of the womb ready to pump iron."

"Pump...iron?" Serenity repeated slowly, a quizzical look on her face.

"L-lifting weights, like...you know, dumbbells?" Endymion glanced at his wife out of the corner of his eyes. "You've never heard that phrase before?"

"Nope," Serenity said, shaking her head. "Must be an Earth thing." She squinted over at Endymion's brush strokes. "So, that's the Earth?"

"Right," Endymion answered. "Tiny little globe, we call it. Globe of the Earth. Blue is water, green is land, I'll get a little white for the north pole." He pointed the tip of his brush at the thin middle section of the wooden object. "I was thinking this rod part, the middle, would be black, with little specks. Like space, you know? And then…" He indicated the other bulb at the opposite end of the object. "Grey, with some craters, and you've got yourself the Moon."

"But...they're both the same size," Serenity mused. "The Earth is way bigger than the Moon."

Endymion gave a little snort. "Okay, maybe it's not to scale, but...it's a toy for a baby, I think it'll be fine."

"I don't want my child growing up thinking the Earth and Moon are the same size," Serenity remarked. "That'd be embarrassing, I...you know, I thought the Earth and Moon were the same size until I was six!"

"Really?" Endymion teased, finishing with the continent of a landmass and moving onto the next one.

"It wasn't my fault!" Serenity insisted. "I had these toys, these balls, they looked like all the planets of the galaxy, and there was one for the moon. And they were all the same size, what else was I supposed to think?"

"Okay, then, I'll make extra sure to...inform our child from a very young age that this rattle isn't to scale, and that it's not an accurate representation of the size of either orbital body." Endymion rolled his eyes.

"And you're sure it'll be safe for the baby to play with?" she asked. "The paints, the wood, all of it."

"I wouldn't even consider letting my child play with something that hadn't been vetted a million times," Endymion said sternly. "Come on, you know me."

Serenity nodded. "So. If it's a boy, what do you think about Helios?"

Endymion's face tightened up a little bit. "You want me to name my son after my horse?"

"I thought you might like it," Serenity said, flopping back on the bed, resting her head on the pillows. "I mean, you like the name enough to name your horse that."

"No, that's...that's weird!" Endymion shook his head. "I'm not naming my son after my horse, that's...no, no thank you."

"What about Endymion?" she suggested. "Just, Endymion the Second?"

Endymion grimaced. "Maybe. I mean, I like it, but it's a little unimaginative, isn't it? I feel like we can do better." He pursed his lips together tightly. "What about...Aetolus?"

"That's not bad," Serenity said. "I could go for that." She swallowed down hard. "O-obviously, if it's a girl, I'd like to...you know. If you're fine with that, I'd like to just...continue the tradition."

"Oh, of course, no problem!" Endymion enthused. "I mean, great, let's have another Serenity in my life, sign me up!"

"Thank you," Serenity said. "And, you're really good at woodstuff, that's really cool."

"Wood-working," Endymion corrected. "That's what it's called. And yes, my tutors over the years often complimented my abilities here. I like it. It's relaxing."

"How do you get the wood hollow like that?" She asked. "And then get it into a perfect round bulb?"

"With great effort," Endymion answered. "I'm going to make a whole set of toys for the baby. This rattle is just the first piece."

"Wow, that's really cool!" Serenity enthused, tilting her head a bit to look at the rattle as it started to take shape. "I mean, you don't have to do that, surely—"

"But I want to do it. My child is going to grow up playing with toys that I made." He shrugged. "I like that, you know? Because...because right now, there's nothing more important to me than how I'm going to raise my child."

He turned back to the partially painted rattle, running the brush tip along the bulb.

"

"Alright, everyone, order, order!"

The darkened, brick-based room was a crowded house tonight, just over thirty people crammed together in an enclosed space. Windowless and plain, outside of a wooden crate in the southeast corner, the din of conversation within went silent immediately on a tall, broad-chested man with short blond hair demanding attention. He got up on top of the wooden crate, getting head and shoulders up above everyone else.

"Well, word has come down. This last half-cycle of preparation is about to bear fruits, so I sincerely hope that everyone here was paying close attention in recent days! Now, starting tonight, we will be selling small quantities of pure, refined imperium on the streets of Pinkton, Minot, Nikk City, Westerton, basically every city and town within a five hundred dolicho radius. We play things safe, we keep to carefully defined locations, we take it slow. If you find yourself coming up with a last minute moral objection, or cold feet, the door is there, use it, head home, forget that this meeting ever happened, go about your life. You will still be a valued member of Nephrite's network of spies, you'll just be left out of this particular endeavor."

He paused, giving everyone several beats to take his invitation to depart the room. Nobody budged, however.

"Very good! Now, the stuff that you will be selling is unlike anything the galaxy has ever seen before. Trust me, this beats the hell out of trying to go door-to-door selling sets of knives. Everyone in the galaxy wants and needs what you're selling. And you're selling the purest strain of it in existence, at a discounted rate. These customers are going to be on you like flies on shit once they realize what you're selling." The blond man crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, street value of this product is two point six million creds per libra, yes, you heard that right. So two hundred and seventeen thousand per uncia, or ounce, as you'll likely be referring to it when you're out dealing." He clapped his hands together. "One hundred and forty-four carats to an ounce, so fifteen hundred creds a carat."

One of the present attendees near the front raised his hand in the air.

"Go ahead, Nestor," he prompted, waving his right hand towards him.

"Fifteen hundred for one carat? Captain Cyril, people aren't walking around with that kind of scratch on them, not usually anyway. And who would pay that much for one carat of imperium?"

"Mm." Cyril nodded. "You have a point. Our product is so good, so pure, so potent, we'll be selling it in fractions of carats. Thirds, fifths, tenths. We'll be using a microscopic laser to cut the imperium up into fine enough amounts. And anyone looking to purchase unregulated imperium is going to have a reader, so they'll be able to verify what you're selling is worth it." He cleared his throat. "Now then! You're gonna walk out of here with one-tenth of an uncia, value twenty one thousand six hundred. You go work your designated streets, you sell to your friends, your neighbors, you conduct your business in whatever way you want. You give a couple shreds away for free, you flush them down a latrine, you shove some up your ass or snort it through your nostrils, none of my business. What is my business, is that you bring me twenty thousand. Whatever you make beyond that is yours, but I'm getting my twenty thousand."

"Wooowee!" a voice from the back of the room cried out, breaking the business-like tension of the room. "You know, I didn't take this position thinking I'd get rich, but...I'll take it!"

"That's right!" Cyril agreed. "And, according to the higher-ups, there is always more product. Always. So, not only will you be serving General Nephrite, you'll be making a lot of money if you apply yourself! Just stay in your lane, last thing we need is a turf war right as we're starting out. We're going to want...three or four people working in a relatively small area, so nobody feels isolated and alone when they're working. And, listen to this last part very closely, might be the most important thing! There's no way around it, in this line of work, you may very well find yourself under arrest at some point. So, here's how we deal with that!"

Cyril reached into the pockets of his black jacket with both hands, withdrawing two tiny glass jars from either pocket. Both held a small collection of imperium shreds, the product clear as glass. He shook them both around in the air. "In my left hand, I have a glowing little angel, wearing a halo on his head and playing a golden harp! This right here, twenty carats of imperium. In my right hand, however, I've got a red devil, pitchfork and horns ripping and raring to go, and this devil is out to destroy your life. Twenty-four carats, also know as a sextula." He held both glass jars up high above his head. "Not much of a difference, right? You might even think there's no difference. And I'm here to tell you, you are dead wrong! There could not possibly be a bigger difference."

He swung his right hand down to his side, leaving the left one up. "Twenty carats, you get caught by the authorities holding that much, even if they catch you selling, it's a Class D offense on Earth. They'll take you in, stick you in a cell, interrogate you, and you don't say a word. They're gonna threaten you, gonna promise all sorts of bad, horrible, terrible things, every trick in the book. And you're not going to even open your mouth. Because a Class D offense can't stick you with any more than two cycles in prison and a twenty-five hundred cred fine. You do your time, when you get out you'll be compensated, and you lay low for awhile." He lifted his right arm back up, swinging his left hand down. "Now, say you get caught with this. These meaningless, barely noticeable, irrelevant four extra carats means you get stuck with a Class C. Two year sentence, minimum. Could be as much as five. And then, you've got a real problem. So, you will not, ever, under any circumstance, be carrying more than twenty carats on your person. This way, we stay one step ahead of the authorities, nobody has their life ruined, and we remain humming like a well-oiled business."

With a quick jerk of his arms, he shoved both little jars back into his pockets.

"Now, I can't think of anything else to say, other than happy selling, and let's make some money!"