The emotionlessness scared the King. Could the Ryccians have nerve stampled Terrans? No that would be against their ways, or would it? The answer he gave was more machine like, something the King didn't like.

"Anastasios, is this practice common in your Ryccian Empire? Tell me you aren't nerve stampled or anything like that which would take away your humanity. You are a Terran, you do not serve another Terran in this manner. You are Terran and must act like one. The same blood goes through both of our veins. I refuse to allow another Terran to serve myself in this manner. It stands against everything the Stoinian Kingdom stands for. A home for every Terran in which he can live in peace amongst his or her brothers."

The King took a short breath. But soon returned to his rant.

"I can only hope you are paid well for this. I cannot imagine a price which could convince a Stoinian to do such dishonoured work. Perhaps there is more to this practice than I anticipate. Please tell me more about yourself and this line of work. Show me that you are indeed Terran. Be assured that I won't bite you for it."

The King looked inquisitively at Anastasios.