Previously...

The bulk of the actual human population was concentrated on Mars.

Earth had been forbidden to humans since the planet wars, a few millennia ago. Nature was hoped to recover and to regain control of the only known natural ecosystem. But, for the sake of it, humans couldn't be allowed to see it.

It was a terrible situation for both historians or biologists, and unfortunately for him, professor Robert Longbreath was both. He was an archecologist, currently interested in experimentally recreating old food recipes and as always he was frustrated by humanity's long slide down the slope of knowledge.

***

'Hello, Professor Longbreath, which plot theory gives me the pleasure of your call today?'

The answer came matter-of-factly, 'The world is doomed. We need to save the humanity from itself.'

'Well, the recurrent one then. OK... And, do you have any idea on how to proceed this time? Should we say the regular place at the regular time?'

'No. It's real this time. I feel it, deeper.'

'Then we'll go high up onto the surface and go wild. Thinking about it, someone told me of a brand new bar up there with rare Jovian beverages.'

'That was me, Richard.'

'Sorry Rob. I thought it was one of my students.'

'You're losing your head, Richard, just like me.'

'Hell, yeah. Let's meet at the elevator in 10 minutes.'

'Now we're talking. See you there, Professor Rockeater.'

***

Robert had unconsciously jumped onto the elevator, without waiting for Richard, for fear of losing the few minutes announced before the next passage. A bit ashamed and upset with himself, he decided to wait for his only friend at the upper end of the journey.

The usual beggar in position at the major exit point to the surface of Earth recognised the immobile professor as a target, potential wealthy and definitely easy. He approached the man slowly, faking a limp that only an outworlder or an artist would dare keep.

'Excuse me, Sir, but you wouldn't by chance be able to help a poor humble miner who lost his legs on the asteroids. I had the chance to come back on Mars, but my luck run out when I figured out I had to pay for the surgery. A little help from you and a few others gentlemen would save me a lot a pain.'

The professor said nothing and slowly assessed the beggar with the caution and disdain typical of a policeman.

The beggar quickly realised he stood no chance. He then noticed behind his target that a tall and well-built man was coming at them with decisiveness, and so he promptly opted for walking away.

'You!'

Robert, received a tap on his right shoulder, so turned right and saw no one. He then turned left, expecting to be laughed at, but faced an upset Richard.

'You... You agreed to meet at the elevator!'

'Well, yeah, but I never said at which end... and you found me anyway.'

'And what were you doing with that tramp? You can't behave properly enough to keep friends so you're paying for some company now? I warn you; today you'll pay the beers because you called for this.'

'Ok, well. Sure. But now, let's go before another beggar come asking,' he said. Realising what they just said, he hurried his friend away and hoped Richard would not react at being called a beggar himself.

***

The bar was called "the Titanic", after the name of the first settlement on Saturn's largest moon: Titan. Sadly, it held true to the curse of the name; it turned out to be the most ambitious and also the biggest failure of the human settlements in the solar system. They all lost their lives in a strange accident, but their bodies were perfectly preserved.

'Richard, are you sure they serve beer from Jupiter in a bar dedicated to Saturn?'

'We'll see,' answered Robert positively, and he led the way.

Robert and Richard exchanged a dubitative look at the room devoid of living people. In fact, there were many seats occupied by what looked like human dummies; or so they were hoping.

The government would surely prohibit using real dead people to decorate a bar. And that would stink at some point anyway. Bad for the business.

Next to the bar, they noticed a corridor above which a neon displayed: 'Jupiter's piss is better than Saturn's beer.'

Robert smiled, 'See, they do sell Jovian beverages.'

Richard complained, 'I think it's only bad taste. And I don't approve either of the rewriting of history. The settlers of the Titanic died of suffocation, not of drink poisoning.'

'Hey, I am the history teacher here, so I should be the one offended.'

'Yeah, yeah. And on top of that, you're called Longbreath. Gotcha. Oh come on, let's get seated.'

The second room was as quiet as the first but at least there were some people moving around. They were ushered into a bright booth by a barmaid too perfect to be a real human, again.

Robert quickly ordered two beers to get rid of the waiter and bent over the table to almost whisper to Richard.

'Whatever I have done so far was not enough. I need you to help me to get to the next level.'

'You mean, you want me to drop our friendship so you can live absolutely without any human interaction?'

'No, no. Not that. I would still have my students anyway. No, I meant that showing people the truth about the Earth is not enough. They are not interested because they don't feel involved with a remote problem.'

'But that is really a remote topic, both in time and space. You can't change that.'

'But they would be interested if I can reveal to them that there is a clear and present danger behind it all.'

'Is there?'

'Yes. We're in the middle of self-destruction.'

'No. That would take years at best. And that statement is soft because I'm your friend.'

They both stopped and faked a smile at the barmaid putting the beers on the tables. Robert bent again suspiciously to talk while Richard checked on the girl's buttock with the thought, 'what if she was human after all?'

'Look at me, Richard,' lamented Robert.

'I'm all yours,' answered Richard still focusing.

'The world is going mad because they no incentive to behave rationally. On Earth, such behaviour would be inevitably punished by extinction according to the law of Darwin.'

Robert answered, 'we live in a world without god nor gold. You know, it is not surprising that we have no prospect in life and in fact no incentive to live.'

'Without god nor gold! Is that one of your catchy phrase? You test them on me before typically using them on your students, aren't you?'

'Hum, actually yes. I coined it yesterday and wanted it use for the class of the week. But seeing your reaction, I guess I shouldn't.'

'I blame you for using me, not for using your students. It should work with them. Come on, your students are still naive... Thinking about it, that's exactly the point: to entertain students naive and if possible physically attractive.'

'I see you still resent Anna-Lynn,' deduced Richard. 'Robert, I am your colleague and friend but I am not your psychiatrist.'

'Richard, you are a philosopher and that's not much different from a psy, except you talk to audience rather than individuals.'

'I hear you have your catchy phrase of your own. But I wonder on whom you were willing to use it. You have no more students. None listening anyway.'

'Point taken. Let's make peace.'

'Sorry. No offense meant'

'Oh, but you just did.'

'Sorry again. So you wanted to tell me something. Is that about a grand plan to awaken humanity?

'Exactly. You see through me.'

'And so. Any details you'd like to share?'

Robert looked suspiciously around. 'It involves a trip to Earth'.

Richard bent over the table and whispered, 'No one cares, don't worry.' He sat upright again and continued with a level tone 'And there's a good reason for that. It's called Cerberus. It will crush you like mashed potatoes and scatter whatever is remaining of you. You won't even reach an orbit. You will die quickly and without fuss. That's its purpose and its ability... Honestly, if I would analyse the situation rationally, I would say you're trying to appear on suicide TV. With a bit of luck, you'll name me as the beneficiary of the TV rights.'

Robert had listened patiently for his friend to complain and refute the idea. That was indeed a stupid idea anyway. He decided to upset his friend further before trying to convince him.

'You ought to know that you won't receive any money because we're going together.'

'Why am I still calling you a friend? Tell me.'

'You will be recognised as the saviour of humanity.'

'Posthumously.'

'No. I intend to survive, just like you. We'll go on Earth, shoot some films about how Earth has evolved, and widespread that knowledge back on Mars.'

'And how do you intend to sneak in?'

'I won't hide. I'm a renowned scientist of ancient Earth. I would merely add to the ranks of scientists still on the Moon. The Cerberus should not kill me.'

'Ok. I see. So the Cerberus god will recognise its people. But what about me? And in fact, why me, at all?'

'I guess that's because I don't have the courage to go alone... Will you not help an old friend?'