Carnifex

30 April, 2155, Cygnus House, Chelsea, London, European Governing Region, Earth

The marquis of Amnesty, a lit candle with barbed wire wrapped around it, was emblazoned across the front of the mansion. The light of the candle was false but the barbed wire looked very real. Only fitting, thought Louis Arbeit, the Marquis of Amnesty, as his chauffeur opened the door to his limousine.

Once out of the limo, the Marquis looked around with considerable satisfaction. It wasn't merely satisfaction at the quality of residence he'd acquired. No, the really thrilling part had been that his organization paid the entire bill, from mortgage to taxes to servants to gardeners to utilities to food. Add in the other perks that commonly went with being a senior part of Earth's new royalty and, well, it was worth much more than even the three quarters of a ton of gold he'd paid for it.

Life is good, the Marquis thought, reaching for the handle of the ornate double door out front. And with the newest anti-agathics, it will be long, as well.

"Daddy!" Arbeit's young daughter, Lucretia, screamed as he came through the double front door. The girl launched herself at her father, wrapping him in a tight hug. She then took his hand and led him out to a patio overlooking the garden.

"I supervised the cooks making dinner myself, Daddy," Lucretia announced, proudly. "Though I had to beat one for being naughty."

"Good girl, Lucretia," he father congratulated. "I hope you didn't damage her."

Lucretia hung her head slightly. "Not much, I didn't, Father. I will need a new riding crop, though," she added, brightly.

"That's my girl."