That was a great plot. No, it isn't romantic fiction this time." They stopped at the corner of Gray's Inn Road, waiting for the lights to change. A couple of punks on the far side, also waiting to cross, were pointing at the oblivious Slater and laughing. Graham looked up at the skies and sighed.

"Imagine, if you will," Slater said dramatically, sweeping his arms out wide, "a -"

"Keep it short," Graham told him.

Slater looked hurt. "It's a sort of Byzantine future, a degenerate technocratic empire with -"

"Oh, not science fiction again."

"Well, no, it's not really, smart-ass," Slater said. "It's a... fable. I could make it a fairy-tale instead, if I wanted to. Anyway. It's the capital of the empire; a courtier starts a liaison with one of the princesses; the demands she and the Emperor make on his time get to be too much, so he secretly has an android made to impersonate him at the endless court rituals and boring receptions; nobody notices. Later he has the android's brain upgraded so it can cope with hunting expeditions and personal meetings, even Cabinet discussions with the Emperor present, all so that he can spend more time dallying with the princess. But he gets killed in some over-energetic love-play. The android continues to fulfil all its courtly duties and even becomes a trusted confidant of the Emperor, and the princess discovers it actually makes a better lover than the original. The android can fit in all its commitments because it never has to sleep. But it develops a conscience, and has to tell the Emperor the truth. The Emperor smiles, opens up an inspection panel in his chest and says, 'Well, by a funny coincidence...' End of story. Pretty good, eh? What do you think?"

Graham took a deep breath, thought, then said. "These pilots: so they could disguise their boots. What about their uniforms?" He frowned seriously.

Slater stopped, a look of horror and confusion on his face. "What?" he said, aghast.