The travel brochure was heavy and warm to the touch, the copy on its cover glowing with self-importance. "Come to sunny perfection on the holiday world of Paraiso-Aqui," I read aloud.

Angelina, sitting at my side, was reading from a more sober and thinner volume, appropriately bound in black.

"Paraiso-Aqui is a planet that was settled during the first galactic expansion and only recently rediscovered. It is noteworthy for having the most corrupt form of government in the galaxy." "A slight difference of opinion between these two sources," I said, rubbing my hands together with anticipatory glee.

"Afternoon bouillon, sir?" the steward-robot asked, bowing and scraping before us.

"Not even to bathe in, you mechanized toady," I said. "Ill have a large Altairian panther juice on the rocks. Better make that two-" "One," Angelina said firmly. "Bouillon for me." "Yes, madam, delighted, perfect choice, wonderful," the obsequious machine salivated, bowing and nodding and rubbing its hands together as it writhed away. I hated it. Just as much as I hated everything else about this space-going cruise ship, the Luxurious Paradise Planet Tour, as well as all of the repulsive and loathsomely garbed tourists who gathered in shrieking throngs throughout the lounge.

"But we're dressed the same way, my darling," Angelina said. I must have spoken my thoughts aloud in the passion of the moment. And we were indeed dressed the same way. With a vengeance! I wore a short-sleeved shirt patterned with hideous purple and yellow blossoms. With shorts to match. Angelina wore exactly the same outfit, admittedly filling hers out in a far more attractive way. Also, in the latest holiday fashion, we had our hair dyed blonde and curled into 11 little green-tipped ringlets. I would have felt like an absolute fool were it not for the fact that all of our fellow travelers were garbed and coiffed in an equally repulsive fashion. A perfect disguise, yes, but what a price it exacted from my free soul! I opened the brochure to reveal a holopic of a deep blue sea under a light blue sky. The waves stirred and crashed onto the beach with a tiny crashing sound; a faint smell of sea brine wafted up from the page.