Like a monster flashing jewel, Plastica hovered over Neptune. And burning at its heart like the malignant sparkle of a gem was the blazing hate of millions of slaves, ready to flare into raging battle at the ringing tocsin of Vyrl Guerlan, the man without a country. The vast globe of transparent plastic, infinitely stronger than the most powerful columbium steel, hung suspended in space, ablaze in brilliant pyrotechnics of light. And as cold and impersonal as the laws of the empire it ruled.…
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