She sat and listened.  A pseuman was pitching the basis for a bill.  She normally found this exceedingly boring, but this proposal was different for her.  She kept up her same act, however, leaning to her right, resting her head on her hand, drumming the fingers of her left prosthetic occassionally.  This was conisdered a normal act for someone in her position.  The First Electress of Mars, Corina Aeide Mallina-sha Williams, or simply Cori to her friends and innerself.  The Electress, female variant of Elector, elected by the people of her home planet, Mars.  She almost turned the position down the first time she won it, she had conisdered her work finished.  She never accounted on her popularity, assuming she'd provide aid of somekind and step aside, or die.

Five years previously she had a ship of her own, a crew, four or five dozens subordinates.  The ship became their flagship, she became their face.  Not many knew she had acutally turned down both of those roles, as well, having stolen the ship and not knowing what to do with it.  But, in hesitation, she had answered.  After the separation, she had been elected.  Now she sat in a overly gaudy, large chair at the end of the council chambers.

The pseuman was robed in black, a wraith, standing at an average human height, his shape was hidden but he was noticeably human, aside from one or two odd things.  His face had a veil across it, but it sat incorrectly where his nose was, it stuck out too far.  While he talked, he randomly made sharp clicking sounds and slurping noises.  His plan was a repeat of something that happened every fifty years or so.  He wanted the rights that regular humans possessed extended to pseumans.  He contested that as he was born human, altering his form to meet his mind's requirment, and that he was still human, deserving the rights he was born with.  Something of this pseuman's cause had struck a cord with Cori, something ringing in her mind, requiring her special attention.

He had finished, Cori waited for three-beats, increasing the tension of the show.  She sat up straight and said, "we will consider your proposal, under a single conidition."

The pseuman looked hesitant, or as hesistant as someone dressed from head-to-foot in black robes could look.

"I would like to see your face."

He relaxed, moved a gloved hand to his veil and removed it.  Two of the council, seated at the long table in the center of the room, gasped.  Another, a fat, jolly-looking male, exchanged a comment with the man across from him.  Most just stared.

The pseuman's face was very doglike.  It would have been totally dog, except the fine, smooth hair around the edges of the face wasn't covering most of it, pink skin still showed through.  His eyes were a light amber, very round, blacked circumferance.  His nose, upper jaw, and lower jaw were extended, not unlike a beagle's.  It was covered in a fine white hair, what would have been stubble on a normal male's face.  The tip of his nose was black, shiny, and wet.  Cori guessed he was in fair health.  She smiled.

If he had a tail, he probably would have wagged it.  Maybe he was, those robes were thick and heavy looking.

"What is your name," she asked.

"Joesef Sullivan,"  there was a slight clack at the end of his first name, his teeth knocking together, and a slurp at the end, his long tongue licking his snout.

"Thank-you for your time, Joe.  We shall deliberate and report our answer within the day."

He bowed and walked to the door, the council, the guards, and the micellany of interns, pages, and courtiers following him, turning their heads in unison, as if drawn by the same strings.  He replaced his veil before exiting, obscuring his face to the world.

==========

Cori took her seat at the end of the table, the head nearest her large chair at the end of the chamber.  She absolutely refused to call it a throne, which is basically was.  Gaudy, large, golden, heavy use of red-trim, buxom, ornate caryatids, flowing, scribbling noodles of silver inlaid on the sides, bird wings, a representation of the red planet embedded in one side, and even a damn cherub near the upper left side.  The artist or artists commissioned for the job must have had a whole lot of fun. 

It sat on what could best be described as a stage, at the far end of one of the longest rooms on the entire planet.  The room was a good city-block in length, leaving plenty of room for the expanding table in its center.  The room was adorned with banners, strung between columns of light tan, which appeared gold at certain times of the day.  The tile job was a stylized space scene.  A map, similar to a starship bridge's  writable map, of the solar system, Mars being the largest planet, a center for everything.  After the parting with Earth, the council chambers were built as a symbol of that separation.  It sat above the largest city on the planet, Wells, held aloft by five large statues, raising the building on outstreatched arms, thrusting it to space.  Each statues was a fair representation of a leader.  Cori was one of them, immortal in stone.  As she took her place at the head of the long table, she looked across at Higui, representative of Wells city, another statue.

There were fifteen representavtives at the table: thirteen represented the thirteen main cities of Mars and two represented the needs of Earth.  That was the only thing Earth got out of the treaty.  Two seats at the decision table.  They were at the far end, the two nearest chairs to Higui, the furthest from Cori.  The two chairs nearest her, were occupied by the newest members, representatives from the smallest settlements that just met the population requirment.  Every two years, the council grew, new elections.  Every two years, there was a chance this entire council, save for the Earth men, could change.  Though that wasn't likely, example, the margin of Cori's last victory was staggering, and she didn't even try.

"Could you believe that, that, thing?" One of the Earth men ejected.  He wasn't so much offended by Joesef's requests, more at the pseuman himself.  Nobody rose to this.  He had made some sort of comment to the other Earth rep. earlier.  It seemed like a deep rooted feeling, something not easily changed in an talk not centered around the belief.  He looked annoyed.

"His concern was legitimate," one of the side, middle representatives said.  The argument proceeded.  Cori became introspective.

She was reminded of her memetic ancestry.  Those in her lines, not related by genes, but related by memes.  A meme was anything that entered into the mental processes of a culture and was passed on, person-to-person, similar to how a gene worked.  Memes were almost everything in human thought, they could be a cultural change, a funny tune, a shirt design, a comic, a way of dance, a dirty poem, or a complete revolutionary overhaul in the way of thinking.   Her memetic ancestry had be persecuted, desparaged, and even killed because of their difference.  Though not a direct genetic relative, she carried a bit of them with her wherever she went.  All they ever wanted was to love eachother, but the spirit of those times wouldn't allow it. 

She always had to use the Dawkins Paradigm phrasing of Memetic Ancestry when referring to them.  They could not pass their genes on, especially at the time she was thinking about.  It wasn't until fairly recent developments in gene combination allowed such a thing.

She kept track of the conversation, but let it slide through her mind, only taking what she needed to help her decision making process.  Although the council would get to vote, her's was the first to be cast.  It was enough to cause ripples of mind-change through the council and she wanted to make sure she cast the correct vote.

Now the Earth man was on a rant, she listened.

"See, this is why we don't give them rights on Earth.  They're not human anymore, they're not what they were born as anymore.  It's not just tatooing anymore with them, it's genetic!  They went and modified themselves, went to a doctor or a parlor, and got the modifications.  That Joesef thing was not born a dog, he made himself a dog!"

"I don't think we need your planet's attitude here!" someone interrupted.

Drum-drum-drum-drum

"My planet's attitude?!  What do you know of Earth?!  You owe us for being here!  You spat--"

Drum-drum-drum-drum

The interrupting councilman rose, slamming his hand on the table, "Don't drag that 'we came first' POOPEY into this room!"

DRUM-DRUM-DRUM-DRUM

"This is what we get for all of the spending on the water converters, air recyclers, and...and..." His sentence drifted off, and his head turned to look down the table.

DRUM-DRUM-DRUM-DRUM

Cori was in a similar pose as she was when the pseuman made his speech.  Head resting on right hand, prosthetic hand out and drumming her fingers on the table, instead of an armrest.  She tapped fairly hard.  She tended to wear her favorite old arm on days where she knew something important would require a vote.  Partly out of an irrational feeling of luck, partly because the large, rust colored military grade prothesis was intimidating.  The four drums, each into its groove in the table, brought the Earth man to silence.  It worked better than a gavel.

"If either of you are going to start a fight," Cori said in a calm voice, "then I suggest you take it outside, or the guards, who are armed, will have to intervine."

"Er, hrm, I beg your pardon Miss Williams," said the Earth man, slowly sitting down.  The other rep. made a slight bow and sat as well, glaring at the first.  the Earth man cleared his throat, and continued, "but I was stately quite cleary, succienctly, and plainly that Earth's rules have been made with knowledge and truth for centuries and--"

He stopped, Cori's glare piercing him.  She leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table before her, "If you want Martians who know of Earth's laws, you need not look further than here.  There are three leaders of the separation sitting on this council.  In making sure we made the correct decision in breaking away from Earth, we throughly researched the laws there.  Under those laws, I would be conisdered a psueman!"

==========

This admission threw the two Earth men and several others of the council into an open-mouthed shock.  She waited three-beats, "oh it's not because of this," she motioned to her arm, "it's because I am technically genetically altered away from my original form.  I, unlike a standard pseuman, did not have the choice.  My mother did.  She bought an alteration package called "The Angel".  Some 70% of the genes altered by pack were dominant.  They came down to me."

She could feel the looks of the council now, they were lining up her features to "The Angel" features.  Her breasts, lips, eyes, and all around figure showed off the traits, but she was nowhere near the package's height or skin coloartion.

"That's a little different," the Earth man began, she cut him off.

"No, it isn't.  Bodily alterations at this level, in the Earth sphere, deny the basic rights of humanity.  It's only because I look like a standard human, am I never questioned about it."

There was silence.  The other Earth man, a thinner, quiet, comptemplative sort, must have been working out a propaganda piece in his head.  Cori didn't know if he was the sort to be in control of those things, but his overall appearance was of someone creating something in their mind.  Higui observed it as well, and would probably monitor the communications out of the council offices tonight.  He was the sort to do that.

"I think we must consider that body modifications have been around for centuries," Cori began, setting up the new crux of the argument, "piercings and tatoos were the start, then came implants, neck rings, and sex changes.  Giving oneself horns or completely changing one's sex have been around for some three-hundred years now, and people who undergo that are still considered human.  You just seem to have a problem with the extreme differences in the pseumans."

She focused that last sentence towards the louder Earth man, then continued in a general speech, "we must look back to the times when people were judged based off of a difference in appearance, the skintone-centered wars that happened in the 1900s and 2000s.  We need to consider the shifts in the zeitgeist at these points and apply that logic forward."

At the mention of the word "zeitgeist", the Earth man snorted and seemed to mouth, "not that damn thing again."

Although it was more than four-hundred and fifty years old, some people of Earth still conisdered it a whim.  A fancy.  However, the discussion around the table had shifted the way Cori thought it should go.  Cori began to internalize again.  Zeitgeist used to be a buzzword, something to say to sound impressive.  It had the makings of a buzzword, even starting with a "Z".  When man began to consider the future in a serious way, zeitgeist became common place in most tongues.  It refered to the collected thoughts and spirits of a time.  The word had become neccessary to understand mans movements forward, to understand how the human race would need to change, should something new appear in the culture.  Aliens, genetic alterations, clones, they were what people thought about most, at the time.  Race, skin color, sexual preference, profession, etc., human descriptive items, weren't entirely thought of.  Human thinking, taking in the most fun and mysterious, while ignoring the normal and mundane.  She smiled at that.

That caused a slight pause in the conversation, the others thinking she may have something to say.  Cori dropped her smile and assumed a regular, thinking face.  Everyone who had been on the council knew she thought and listened more than talked.  The council had reached the spot she hoped, though.  They spoke of people who got sex changes, people who altered their bodies to match their minds.  The same reasoning applied to pseumans.  Many in the council seemed to agree with this, she counted mentally.  Only the few who weren't talking much, remained wild cards in her observations.  She shifted, nosily, and stood, the rest of the room had suddenly silenced.

"Are we ready to vote?" Abrupt, but this forced people to quickly organize their thoughts.  Mostly nods and approving murmurs.  Cori pulled up one of the official yes/no cards that sat in stacks about the tables.  The others followed suit.  She held her's up, and punched out the green "yes" crystalline window, turning it into a fine dust that mixed into the air.  She tossed it onto the table in front of her and sat back down.  She never understood the coloring on the yes/no cards, except that the green "yes" and red "no" colors were from some ancient system of on/offing, stop/going.  When you broke a window, the entire card would change to that color.  Breaking both, casting a neutral ballot, would cause the card to turn a light yellow, almost parchment tan.  The yellow was even more confusing.

"Well," she said, signing her card and adding it to the counted stack next to her, "looks like it passes."

The stack was prodominantly green with little flecks of red, and even a yellow.  She knew how most had voted, the Earth men casting noes, along with a few others from the smaller, further-out cities.

It was roughly dinner time now, a good place to stop for the day, Cori spoke, "as the votes have been cast, the laws regarding humans, shall be extended to pseumans.  We'll draft up detailed legislation after the calling of the minutes in tomorrow's meeting.  For today, we are adjorned.  We'll see everyone tomorrow at the usual time."

There was no gavel sound to put a stark period at the end of the meeting, so the group split slowly.  The two men from Earth got up swiftly and left, gabbering together like gossipy students.  Cori stood and organized papers in open pleather bound folders in front of her.  Higui and the other old leader who served in the separation, Taunne, came over to her.

"Boy, did you ever look like you were having fun!" Higui lightly punched Cori in her shoulder.

"I would've much rather been running-the-rust or hanging around with the family," Cori said.  She returned the punch, leaving four knuckles of rust coloring on Higui's robe.

"Yeah, that thing needs more rust on it," he brushed it off.

"You really know how to fly one of those things?"  Taunne questioned.  She seemed to find it surprising that Cori would admit to riding an open air bike across the planet.  Very few did it, outside of the cities and settlements, Mars was a dangerous place.  A combination of dust storms, extreme heat, cold, and random weather made it that way.

"I still do occasionally, it's gotten a bit easier in recent months.  Equipment isn't as bulky as it was a few years ago."

Higui laughed and slapped Taunne on her shoulder, "you should've seen her back in the day.  She once took a heat lance, locked it in the frame of her bike, and flew it full speed into the side of a crusier.  Get this, she then jumps up the side of the crusier, open the hatch, climbs in.  Ten seconds later, we see a pair of uniformed troops exit via the overhead hatch, and we get a new crusier to play with."

Cori looked somewhat embarrassed at Taunne's wide-eyed absorbtion of the story.

"Speaking of telling old stories, we were thinking of getting together with Carter and Wobbly for drinks," Higui said, "you want to join us?"

"Wobbly's back?" Cori asked, somewhat surprised.

"Yeah, he's planetside for a whole week this time, I guess he doesn't need to smuggle tech to backwoods moons for a bit."

"Pfft, like I need to see him drunk tonight," Cori said, closing and stacking her folders, tucking them under her real arm.

"The day wasn't that rough, there wasn't anything unusual about today's council though," Taunne said, looking towards the door, indicating the Earth men.

"I know, but I have a party to go to, I can't miss it."  This surprised Higui and Taunne, they looked at eachother quickly.

"Party? Can we come," Higui said coyly, "been a while since I bummed some free food off one of your invites."

"No, no, me and the wife are keeping it private," Cori grinned broadly, starting to leave, " our little girl's four years old today."

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