Visions of Liberty by Martin H. Greenberg, Mark Tier Page A

something of a spy myself," he went on. "I know how young Bretygne was when you both became lovers."
    This time color flushed her cheeks without any artificial assistance. Palmer grabbed her hand to steady both of them.
    Astaroth looked Palmer in the eye and whispered, "I know that she was only thirty when you became lovers on Earth. Good old Earth . . . where the age for consent is thirty-five!"
    "Prove it," Palmer challenged through clenched teeth.
    The professor shook his head. "I don't want to cause trouble, my fellow spies. I no more approve of the Schlessinger Laws than you do."
    In common with most aristocrats, Lady Lamarr had a deeply psychotic side. Her voice was dangerous as she reminded both men of the facts. "There is no statute of limitations for sex with an underager."
    As they discussed the volatile issue, the three of them slowly moved to a more private corner of the ballroom. Palmer was relieved to see that Astaroth seemed inclined to keep the conversation private. They wound up standing next to one of the service entrances.
    The professor tried manfully to put the genie back into the bottle. "I only bring this up to make a point, my young friends. Here are the two of you sworn to uphold the crazy world state and even you have run afoul of its statistical models and lunatic social engineering."
    For some reason Palmer didn't feel like making a joke about this being the right place to discuss lunacy.
    Eyes wide, Bretygne asked, "My God, are you with the anarchists?"
    "No. I'm the other kind of libertarian, a minarchist who wants a limited state and a genuine Bill of Rights."
    "You've got a point there," Palmer agreed. "The Children's Bill of Rights is nothing like the old American one."
    "Full marks for knowing some history," said Palmer.
    "All libertarianism is illegal," Bretygne stated the obvious, "but I've known you were somewhere on the radical side for a long time. You should be the last person to threaten us!"
    "No threat, my dear lady. I've done things just as illegal as the two of you. We can hold each other hostage. How wonderful that we meet through our sordid occupation of providing information to the state!"
    They listened to each other's silences. The distant clinking of glasses and low hum of voices seemed comforting somehow. The thick cloud of paranoia began to part as the light of mutual advantage touched their faces.
    "Is this a safe place to have our conversation?" asked Bretygne.
    "None better," said the professor. "The ambassador has made this a high-tech cocoon of privacy. We need only worry about human ears. Besides, we are higher-ranking spies than anyone sent to keep an eye on us."
    "So what do you want?" asked Palmer.
    "Profits for all of us, and maybe something even better. What would you say to freedom?"
    The ballroom music began, an arrangement of classic rap-Muzak. This conservative choice of music inspired Palmer to better understand the mind behind the wrinkles.
    "Bretygne told me that you think the world went to hell back in the twenty-first century. That's long before the current system took over."
    "One thing leads to another." Astaroth smiled, glad of an audience. "You seem to know about the North American Bill of Rights. Have you studied the Welfare War that led to the collapse of the American Empire?"
    "Only what I was told in school."
    "The causes of that war continue to fester even in the present day. They were the actual reason the world state eventually outlawed both capitalism and socialism. And so we descended to a new rung of hell, the Maternal Ageist Society."
    "He's quoting from one of his private books," Bretygne told Palmer, then added proudly: "I read the whole thing!"
    Emboldened, Astaroth continued. "Then you remember that capitalism was outlawed as too individualistic and the cause of social atomism. Socialism was forbidden as too egalitarian and unable to punish certain groups at the expense of others, an important matter when the new chrono-charts