Genocia *Chapter 1*

At exactly one week before the ill-fated destruction of Genocia, The Emperor stretched out his arms high above his head and yawned. It had been discovered in late 2000 that a yawn is only infectious upon the pleasant population of a room. The meaning of this had been studied and used, as eventually everything is, as an interrogation technique. If the prisoner did not catch a strategically placed yawn, it was concluded that he was an enemy and was immediately terminated. Only after a whole bar of drunken politicians were massacred when they failed to pass a police officers test, was the reliability of this method questioned.
The Emperor opened his eyes and stared up. There above him, projected on the roof, was the time.
7:20
He was happy to have awoken before his alarm went off as its idea of a wakeup call was to release a bucket of freezing cold water onto your sleeping frame. He was not terribly excited about the day ahead; alien leaders were coming to negotiate the rights to the breakfast cereal ‘Moon Oats’. It seemed that it was rather enjoyed on their planet and they wished to produce it themselves. The Emperor had no qualms about handing over the rights as the Cereal itself had been made by robots and on Genocia was only used to commit painful suicide. He felt that with the handing over of what the Mensia call ‘Diefthes Mone Eataus’ (Genocian for “Food of death”), that there would be a dramatic decline in suicide rates, however as ‘Moon Oats’ are only tried by the most pain seeking daredevils, this would not have been the case, even if the negotiations had not ended on such horrible terms.
The Emperor decided to face the day ahead of him and crawled out of bed. He stood and stared around at the room. This was indeed the Royal Bedroom! Everything was clothed in red velvet and white silk. The Emperor sighed in delight and looked out the floor to ceiling window. The view was magical, or it least it had been before the previous Emperor had commissioned the Win-Plex factories.
‘Wiiiin-Pleeeex’ the commercial sung, ‘The most durable, adorable windows in the Whole Wide Woooorld!’
The windows were extremely popular with the children; they were unbreakable and projected the image of the animal of your choice. It would run back and forth being cute. In fact, on request of the previous Emperor, Humsan Palace was equipped with the complete Win-Plex window system with the personal choice of a fluffy yellow dog, which had been named Mitzy. The Emperor gave the virtual dog a virtual treat and stepped back from the window. He turned surveying the room, his bed was an emperor sized monstrosity. Thick wooden frames sprouted from each of the four posts, continuing up until they reached a section of the roof. This was a safety precaution, with the bed securely tied to the roof it could not tumble out of the window, coming to a stop 3,000 feet below. Alas the emperor had noticed that nothing had been done to stop the roof from caving in and killing him anyway. He was quite glad that the last earthquake had been about 1012 years ago. The Emperor glanced once more at the time and then made his way towards the shower. While undressing he turned on the radio, it was amazing to think that with all the new technology that had developed, the radio had come through it all unscarred. There had been talk of a holographic image, but this seemed to defeat the point. He stepped into the shower as a preacher’s voice belted from the speakers.
“…Clone our bodies! Yeah! They can clone our minds! Oh ain’t that the truth! But they CANNOT clone the holy spirit of the ALL powerful, ALL knowing, ALL mighty Lord out God! Amen!”
As the thunderous applause sounded the Emperor laughed.
“The Christians are still at it” he thought and laughed again. Of course nobody had any idea that Christianity had been proven long ago. Keeping that quiet had been an easy choice. If people believed that they evolved from monkeys they were much easier to control. Monkey see, Monkey do. As the applauses died and the lovely strains of Miss Pollecha filled the room, the emperor mistakenly looked forward to the day ahead.