PROLOGUE

In the year 2222 it became evident that it was much easier and cheaper for the ruling class to emigrate to other planets than to heal the earth, still devastated by the nuclear war of 2101.

The right to extraterrestrial colonies was an exclusive luxury for the opulent class. An adventure that an ordinary millionaire could not afford.

The nuclear war completely swept the middle class from the social fabric. The poor gained no advantage from that migration, for those rich whose fortune was not large enough to allow them to pay for a cosmic passage remained the owners of their destinies: owners of the land, its raw materials, the means of production and communications, which continued to shape public opinion.

The wealthy took enough labor to the colonies to satisfy their extravagant needs.

After a few generations, the servants destined for extraterrestrial colonies were taken in vitro, genetically selected and raised in Conditioning Centers. They obtained perfect humans adapted to their destiny.

The first interstellar colony was not established on Mars but on Enceladus, a moon of Saturn. Atmosphere and gravity were adapted. The advantage was that there was plenty of energy and water, and with it, an ocean teeming with life.

Luxurious habitats were built under the ice, safe from extreme weather, for the new masters of the planet.

While the servants were settled in old bases and abandoned ships, on the icy surface of that beautiful moon with spectacular cryovolcanoes, shooting jets of water and ice several kilometers high into the sky, like black and white fireworks against the backdrop of Saturn with its rings, which captured this exotic space traveler when it let itself be seduced by its gravitational influence, millions of years ago.

Episode 1
Earth was a beautiful place

LAB

The screen gave the daily weather report.

The weatherman moved his mouth, but the volume was low and his voice could not be heard. Instead, he heard music.

Numbers appeared on the screen.

Years elapsed since the Thermonuclear War: 399.

A hand with a thumbs up appeared next to the figure:

Maximum radiation in Ma-ka City: 400 MilliSieverts (Low medium 👍︎).

A small POPUP appeared on the daily report:

"What?" —startled Axel Rubio—. "My father has died."

Touching the popup on the screen opened the message.

A tear escaped from his eyes.

"This message arrives from Enceladus, from Command, using Usual Low Priority Channels, for Earth, Axel Rubio. It was recorded an indeterminate number of weeks or months ago," said a robotic voice.

A close-up of his father, a man of about 70, began to speak:

"In my house on Enceladus, in the same place we hid the money on Earth, you will find Ͼ360 thousand paks. I hope that someday you can come…"

What followed could not be heard, interrupted by the noise of a gas and liquid siphon, similar to that produced by a carbonated drink when shaken.

—Damn sanitary—, said the old man. —The geothermal pressure is very strong or my toilet is very old—, said the image on the screen.

"Wow Ͼ360 thousand paks!" —exclaimed Nastromedo behind him.

A deformed assistant, whom Axel had hired for his good nose and whom he had chosen among other candidates because he knew that a humble man, with that insignificant appearance: short, scrawny, with a bit of a hump and a matching face, would probably starve to death without the job.

"That's a nice amount." "Will you go look for it on Enceladus?"

"I always wanted to go visit my father, but the miserable amount I earn with my trade as Master Creator of Synthetic Smells cannot afford me to travel, let alone to Enceladus." Axel emphasized the word 'master'.

"Shall we go eat at the infusioneria downstairs?" asked Nastromedo, pointing to the clock on the screen.

"No thanks, I have a lot of work," Axel answered after looking inside his wallet, as if he expected credits to have miraculously appeared.

Nastromedo shrugged and left.

After his assistant had left, he went to the fridge and took out a package of pre-cooked food: 'succulent insect pizza 8/10'.

With a gesture of disgust, he carefully put it back and took out another box, with an attractive label: 'assorted insects, fried in high linolenic beetle oil'.

He returned the box to the fridge. Bending down and looking into the corners, he reached out and took out a small yellow jar: 'worm humus', it said. He also put it back.

"I'm more than fed up with eating bugs," he said, shuddering.

He sat down and on his desktop screen ordered the infusioneria menu.

"Let's see if I can go down and eat something decent," he said.

"A fried egg Г 10,000.00."

A succulent egg with a bright yolk and toasted lace edges filled the screen.

"What madness! That's what I earn in a month," he said aloud. And he continued reading the menu.

"Infusion of tropical jungle worm with milk. Г 5,595.00."

A steaming cup and a huge button that said 'ORDER' invited you to buy it immediately.

"Sounds good, but the tropical jungles no longer exist and cows became extinct decades ago."

"What will the milk be made of? Rat?" he said to console himself.

Resignedly, he turned his back on the screen. He could not afford it.

Absentmindedly he reached out and took a small ampoule that said 'Milk', briefly uncapped it and smelled.

Nastromedo had returned, and Axel said, thinking aloud:

"Here is the legacy of my father, a true Master of Smells. Next to him, I am just an amateur. Fortunately, I inherited his potions and his sense of smell, and with the little he taught me, I have managed to live decently. Well, to survive, always hungry at the end of the month."

"My father spent his whole life synthesizing these unrepeatable smells. Many aromas of the old earth now exist only in these ampoules and in his memory," he said, pointing to the amber dropper vials carefully arranged in old wooden grids.

Nostalgically, he caressed the box labeled 'breakfasts'.

"This is one of my favorites…" He read: — 'Cream Cheese', 'Butter', 'Churros'.

"They are memories of a rural economy that will not return, when plants grew and livestock grazed," he continued.

"Do you know, Nastromedo? There was a time when the planet's main problems were overpopulation and climate change. What times those were!"

"There was everything, clean rivers, ice at the poles…"

"Before the bombs," said Nastromedo in a tone of someone tired of a story repeated a thousand times.

"Yes," said Axel angrily. "Religions justified war in the name of God, although religion was the pretext," he said sadly. "Behind it was always capital. They became multimillionaires selling weapons, and then emigrated off the planet. Damn wealthy!"

"Time to turn off," said Nastromedo. "Will you join me in the night district? Tonight is Friday and radiation levels are only 400 MilliSieverts. It will be lively."

"I wouldn't mind," said Axel, "but my bank card doesn't work. It has a bad habit of becoming empty," he joked.

Nastromedo opened the office door to leave and on the sign on the door it read:

Axel Rubio Senior & Axel Rubio Jr. Smell Synthesis

A minute later Axel left.

"Damn homeless mafia," said Axel startled when he came across two dark figures, covered with pieces of plastic, slowly pushing a cart full of scrap metal down the hallway.

He went up the 15 floors to the street. The fog was thick, the street lighting very poor. A strange greenish glow behind the city revealed the profile of the buildings.

He headed to the underground public transport system and sat next to other homeless people who gave him challenging looks. The car was half full at that hour.

"Look at the stuck-up one," a homeless man said to another, "with all the trums they earn, they could use private transport and not bother decent people by looking down on them."

Axel wrinkled his nose and opened the car window to let in the smell of the tunnel.

"Would the gentleman mind closing the window?" one of the homeless men sneered mockingly. "We didn't drop the bombs, nor did we bring the eternal winter. It was you rich people. And now you want to freeze us to death? You do have a good coat," he said with hatred. "I have to cover myself with bags."

Without a word, Axel took off his coat and handed it to the homeless man, trying not to touch him; that did not seem to calm him down.

They threatened him with a knife and opened his wallet. No one seemed to care.

"Well! He's cleaner than me," said the homeless man to his companion with a hypocritical laugh.

When Axel got off at his stop, he rubbed himself and shrank from the cold, regretting having given away his coat.

He entered a small shop of the Happy Family chain where there was a Chinese man and said to him:

"Good evening, Lin Chu, let's see if I can find something to eat."

"Wait, you have money, Mr. Rubio? Becau' your bank card no wanna work."

Axel pretended to search his pockets unsuccessfully, although he knew they were empty. While he did so, the Chinese man said:

"Lin Chu velly solly, but you have old account you no pay, and bank no wanna give money. Lin Chu already lend you Γ120. No mattah lose money with good friend, but cannot lend no more," he said.

"You're right, I didn't remember that I'm broke. People don't pay well for jobs." "I'll pay you the 120 trums soon."

As he left the store into the polluted fog outside, he heard behind him:

"You no happy, Mr. Amigo, no happy."

He entered his house, opened the refrigerator and stared at it for a while. It was almost empty.

"This can't go on like this," he said to himself.

He sat on the edge of the bed and plugged an accordion tube into an outlet on the wall, labeled "CleanAir Corp". He approached a grille and breathed deeply.

"I don't eat, but at least I have the sensographies they commission me, something no one else can have."

"To afford the luxury of breathing processed air you have to be a millionaire, and I enjoy it for free. I don't know what I would do if I had to sleep breathing the dioxins from the street, like everyone else."

He pressed a button repeatedly until, on the input panel, a display showed the selection: "Fields of pure air". A robotic voice said:

"For lavender fields press one. For orange blossom fields press two."

He pressed the button again and a new legend replaced the previous one: "Night sea breeze". He breathed deeply again and pressed the "SELECT" button. A nocturnal seascape appeared on the wall, accompanied by the sound of waves breaking on soft sand.

---

Axel Rubio was in his office, sitting in front of a small screen showing a keyboard and some controls.

On a large screen appeared a photo of a girl and the title "Kim Kilnova".

Below was a smell selection wheel, with colored labels: "Vegetables" (green), "Fruits" (orange), "Floral" (magenta), "Medicinal" (green), "Animals" (pink), "Marine" (blue-green), "Offensive and Terrestrial" (brown).

"Marine" was selected and the entire keyboard was also illuminated in blue-green.

He smelled a small tube ending in a cup shape and seemed satisfied.

"We have it, Mr. Kilnova," said Axel Rubio.

On the screen appeared a video of the girl playing in a park, ambient noise faded into the music 'Petite suite en bateau' while on the screen the girl approached in slow motion to a close-up.

Axel Rubio gave the cup to Mr. Kilnova, who smelled it while looking at the screen with a distressed expression.

With great emotion, Mr. Kilnova kissed Axel's hand that held the olfactorium.

"Thank you," he exclaimed. "To feel the aroma of my daughter, who no longer exists, again, and to see her, and hear her favorite music…"

"You don't know how happy this makes me, Mr. Rubio. You are a master of 4S art. You have captured her essence," and he burst into tears, profusely now.

"Well, well, it's not that much, Mr. Kilnova. Go with my assistant and he will charge you. I will send the file to your private cloud. If you buy a good 4S system, she will be able to comfort you, whenever you feel alone. With maximum smell resolution," he concluded.

The man, still sobbing, left helped by Nastromedo, who led him by the forearm.

Upon leaving, Nastromedo left Axel an envelope on top of the keyboard.

"A bike courier brought it," he said.

"An envelope?" he said, puzzled. "Who still uses envelopes?" And he read the sender: "Administration of Alantis City CO" — "Wow, and I thought they wouldn't bother to tell me exactly when my father died," he said, opening the envelope.

"It's not about my father," he said to Nastromedo. "It's a visa. They're offering me the position of Master of Smells to work on Enceladus with a salary of Ͼ365 thousand paks a year and the one-way trip paid," he said, looking surprised.

"At a company called VisionCorp CO, and they're dedicated to manufacturing digital environments. What do you think?"

Nastromedo peeked out with a sad face.

"I'll be out of a job. I'll never find another boss like you who doesn't charge me for working. And I can't go with you. The trip to Enceladus costs Ͼ500 thousand paks, an amount I will never have."

"Well, we'll see," Axel replied conciliatorily. "If I could, I would take you. Where would there be another assistant as good as you? But it's not that simple. The contract contains a clause that prohibits me from bringing other people or animals with me. It also has clauses of exclusivity, confidentiality, compliance, non-denominationalism, assignment of rights, apolitical declaration, health declaration, and so on. It's stricter than a contract with the Interstellar Intelligence Agency," he explained, trying to soften the news.

"You won't miss anything. On Enceladus there are the most beautiful and smartest assistants in the galaxy. They only allow one in a million to go," Nastromedo argued. "Taking an assistant from Earth to Enceladus is like taking ice to Gelida Mundi," he stated.

Episode 2.-
The Earth-Enceladus journey

At VisionCorp's offices on Earth.

An employee, reading Lev's ticket on the screen:

Rubio, Axel, second class passage, valid for any Earth-Enceladus-Alantis transport.

"Second class?" he objected.

"All low-cost space travel is done by linking with an asteroid to take advantage of its gravitational force, like a horse-drawn cart, so we can make trips with minimum energy," the employee explained.

"Private trips on fast ships with exotic fuels are first class, but they are rare, used for emergencies or rescues, and they are not as safe as ships that use an asteroid as a gravitational tractor."

"The next available ship is a transport for servants and heavy machinery."

"Well! I'll be very accompanied," Axel replied, annoyed.

"Not much," the taciturn employee replied. "In the first colonization, servants were people of all ages and each wealthy chose his own, but it was very expensive to transport them. Today they travel in the form of eggs and sperm vials, in cryogenic compartments."

Axel was pleased.

"Better. 'The lone ox licks itself well.'" A proverb that Axel always used when praising the virtue of solitude.

"The human specimens born on Enceladus, thanks to genetic engineering, are perfect; beautiful and strong. Much better than the first servants who traveled from Earth. They are also free of defects and diseases."

"Their masters are very demanding about that, because they invest a fair amount of money in each specimen. Furthermore, they are not long-lived. Those who traveled from Earth grew old, had memories, friends, etc... something very uncomfortable for their wealthy," said the employee.

"So you will have the ship to yourself, no one will bother you. It's a ship with robotic crew," explained the employee.

"Is there no other?" asked Axel.

"The passage of asteroids with masses greater than 50 million tons near Earth is not frequent. You have to take advantage of the coupling moment. The trip to Enceladus, pulled by a 500 mt asteroid of 90 million tons like the one about to pass, will take only 10,095 hours, 420 days or approximately 1 year and 45 days," said the employee, looking at him.

"There is another 'charter'," continued the employee with some weariness. "It is low-cost, with luxury cabins, and will transport wealthy people," the employee looked at him with some contempt and continued explaining, "but it takes off in 6 months and the asteroid that carries it has less mass, so that trip will be longer. It will take 2 years and…"

"I understand," interrupted Axel. "I'll go with the servant transport," he said decisively.

"Why do they call them servants? Is slavery genetically predetermined?" asked Axel.

"No," laughed the employee, "that's science fiction by Aldous Huxley."

"Each wealthy pays for his own transport to the colonies, exports his belongings and pays to have the necessary labor for his businesses or for his personal service. They have the right to raise and hire as many servants as they need and can support."

"The servants are subject to their sponsor by a contract of obedience, first signed by biological parents, who naturally want a better life for their genes, with a secure job and away from Earth's pollution."

"When the servants are older, they can choose between ratifying the submission contract or returning to Earth," something very few do.

"Some of us have to live among radiated freaks and starving people on Mother Earth," said the employee bitterly. "But if we could choose to live with rich wealthy and beautiful servants in a healthy place, who would stay in this expiatory pigsty?"

The servant ship was not very large. Everything was narrow. Fortunately, there was the fun cryogenic lounge and the large warehouses of machines that transported huge snowplows, excavators, tracked trucks, moles, aero-vehicles, mini-subs. This trip even carried a huge geothermal energy conversion unit… Steel was very difficult to obtain on Enceladus.

"It will be hard to get used to these shoes," Axel thought, looking at his feet. "Although they are intelligent: one foot knows what the other does; they activate or deactivate progressively and proportionally the force. The truth is that it is easy and natural to walk, run, or have both feet on the ground. I don't know how they do it, but you also know when you are sitting and you raise your feet high, then they reduce their weight almost to zero. Surely when I arrive, I will walk like a native."

Axel walks around the ship with his gravity boots and thinks aloud, sometimes sings, or hums.

In the passenger facilities room on the ship there is a very basic console that allows him to connect to the internet for a few minutes a day, when the satellite is available.

"I don't know how to thank you for what you have done: leaving me your office, the aromas, the equipment…" says Nastromedo on the screen.

"You can keep the lab until I return," Axel replies.

"I trust you completely, my friend. Keep selling commercial smells. You can profit because I have left you the licenses to do so. Sending you money from Enceladus would not be practical because the banks take half. They are vultures."

The days pass slowly. Reviewing the cryogenics section, he entertains himself by reading the waybill and the records on the screen:

• Jannet Paulson V: 50 eggs from 5 100% African selected females CI (100) Afro-cooper hair, Fpick Type 5. 5 vials of sperm from 100% African selected males CI (100-110) Afro-cooper hair, Fpick Type 5. 10 eggs from Sus Scrofa Domesticus (mini-pigs) 1 female champion Göttingen Nani. 1 vial of sperm from Sus Scrofa Domesticus (mini-pigs) 1 male champion Göttingen Nani.
• John Simons: 23 eggs from 23 100% Caucasoid selected females CI (100-112) Red hair, Fpick Type 3. 2 vials of sperm from 100% Caucasoid champion males CI (99-103) Red hair, Fpick Type 3.
• Donald Perelman: 220 eggs from 220 100% American selected females CI (95-100) Medium blond hair, Fpick Type 3. 5 vials of sperm from 100% American selected males CI (100-103) Medium blond hair, Fpick Type 3. 30 eggs from Sus Scrofa Domesticus (mini-pigs). 1 female champion Thai Islander. 2 vials of sperm from Sus Scrofa Domesticus (mini-pigs). 2 male champions Thai Islander.
• Mark Dassault: 1001 eggs from 20 females 30% Caucasian champion CI (99-100) White hair, Fpick Type 2. 60% Pacific Island champion CI (99-100) White hair, Fpick Type 2., 10% African champion CI (99-100) White hair, Fpick Type 4. 10 vials of sperm from males 30% Caucasian champion CI (99-100) White hair, Fpick Type 2., 60% Pacific Island champion CI (99-100) White hair, Fpick Type 2., 10% African champion CI (99-100) White hair, Fpick Type 4.
• Mary Zuckerberg: 134 eggs from 2 females 100% South East Asian champion CI (120) Black hair, Fpick Type 2. 2 vials of sperm from males 100% South East Asian champion CI (122) Black hair, Fpick Type 2. 10 eggs from Sus Scrofa Domesticus (mini-pigs). 1 female champion Thai Islander. 1 vial of sperm from Sus Scrofa Domesticus (mini-pigs). 1 male champion Thai Islander.

"Wow!" — this was his employer and owner of VisionCorp CO. — "He sure needs slaves. I'll be number 1002," he joked.

"He loves uniformity and has ordered a shipment of intelligent Thais, with IQs of 120, and matching dwarf piglets," he meditated aloud.

He searched: Enceladus, dwarf pigs.

The robotic search voice said:

"Mini-pigs or dwarf pigs are the favorite pets of the wealthy inhabitants of Enceladus. They are used in medicine as a means to grow organs for transplants, tissue banks, blood filters, experimentation. Also as companion animals, as tractors for negative gravity chairs, and sometimes for food. Cats and dogs are not popular on Enceladus because their usefulness is very limited."

The entry was illustrated by a video of an obese wealthy person in a magnetic suit, walking his dwarf pig, also in a magnetic suit and held by a leash.

Después buscó: Enceladus, siervos, sexo.

Then he searched: Enceladus, servants, sex.

The robotic search voice said:

"The sex of female and male servants is reserved by contract for their sponsors. Infidelity is not common. Some servants may be transferred or sold to other wealthy people or servants. In such cases, the submission contract with their sponsor obliges them to accept their destiny…"

"Reproduction using fresh eggs and sperm is not common. In any case, the process is done with strict genetic control. The fetuses grow in the same incubators used for in vitro reproduction of selected specimens."

"On Enceladus, wombs that incapacitate the mother for her work constitute a serious fault. If the Force Authority locates a womb, an administrative penalty is applied and extraction is performed. In rare cases, these fetuses come to term."

With his finger, Axel scrolled the screen to the title "INFIDELITY".

The robotic search voice said:

"Infidelity of a servant to their contract is very rare. If proven, their sponsor has the power to choose their punishment without appeal: auction, transfer, or even exile to the IcedZone."

With his finger, Axel pressed on the word "IcedZone".

The robotic search voice said:

"The built space on Enceladus is very expensive. IcedZone is the term for all uninhabited surface of the planet. Except for some bacteria, there is no life there, where extreme meteorological phenomena occur."

"Alantis is the residential and commercial urban center where the wealthy live; it was built two kilometers under the ice, in a warm zone of the Enceladian ocean."

"Glacialis, a dispersed and heterogeneous city on the planet's surface, formed by remains of abandoned bases and ships, which the servants, who constitute the majority of society, remodel and use as housing, workshops, second-hand shops, or food stalls for workers, like fish'n fish."

"Other areas are: Industrialis, Roald Amundsen Harbor, and Spaceport Galileo, the docking zone where all ships arrive and depart…"

With his finger, Axel pressed on the word "fish'n fish".

"Glacialis has something that the rich don't have in Alantis: fast and cheap food stalls, like fish'n fish. Every day, hundreds of workers line up at the fish'n fish stalls on their way to one of the transports that take them to work."

"The fish'n fish dish consists of a 30 cm Gadus Enceladeae (Enceladus Cod) accompanied by very crispy 5 cm Engraulis Encelado (Mini-sardines). All fried in liver oil of Cetorhinus Gigantus (Abyssal Shark). Served in Morikami seaweed leaves."

"Sounds delicious. The smell must be wonderful. I'm burning with desire to be there. On Earth I could only eat insects, and there fish'n fish is a worker's meal costing only 6 paks. I could eat 73,000 portions a month with my salary," said Axel, hallucinating.

"I didn't eat, it's true. But I already feel the weight of nostalgia. Oh, my poor planet! So distant and mistreated. What a deep sigh from your children. Its evocation, both bitter and pleasant, tightens my chest."

Axel works on the ship's console and does tests…

"Connecting with the Academy of Arts and Sciences of Cinematography at Ko Phi Phi City Hall," said the screen. A group of people seated at a table appeared, half of them Thai.

"Hello, Mr. Rubio," said the moderator.

"It's a pleasure to have you with us. Allow me to express our condolences for the passing of your father."

"We have enjoyed the material you sent us, although we have had to make a Frankenstein apparatus to see it, touch it, hear it and smell it. I suppose that soon they will invent devices to bring it to the public with higher quality."

"You call it SensoMovie. It seems like a long-awaited invention to us. Of course, 4S Sensographies existed where we could see, feel, hear and smell, but your advance of the smell amplifier or zoom and your contribution of the dynamic aroma mixer, synchronized with the image, truly take the state of the art to another level."

"Until now I didn't have the technology, but with the computer on this ship I'm traveling to Enceladus and all the free time I have left, it hasn't been difficult to program these functions," Axel replies.

"Don't be modest, Mr. Rubio. It's the work of a genius, worthy heir of the Master of Smells Axel Rubio Senior. We have granted you the patent. It's a universal patent. We take advantage of this meeting to ask for your consent to found the 'Academy of SensoCinema Arts', and thus promote the arts, teach future generations and protect the artists of the guild," said the moderator.

"Of course, you have permission," Axel answered happily. "And a thousand thanks for the patent."

A message appeared overlaid on the display: "Satellite usage time exhausted. Next available time 14:30 h (PST)". Axel could not say goodbye to the academics; the system cut off abruptly if the communication was not VIP.

---

At VisionCorp CO. offices on Enceladus

An opulent wealthy person, behind a wooden desk (a pharaonic luxury on Enceladus), speaks to two women, with dark skin Fpick 4, tall and slender, with somewhat Rastafarian clothes, one with a huge UFO-shaped turban, another with colored ribbons woven into a thousand braids in her hair. Both carry electronic weapons slung over their shoulders.

"Our new employee has patented a new SensoCine system. I want it! You are lawyers and I pay you generously. Find a way to appropriate the patent. After all, he discovered it with our computer, eating our food and after signing the scientific servant contract, so it shouldn't be too difficult."

"And go pick him up at the airport, so he doesn't talk to anyone."

At Spaceport Galileo, Axel leaves Enceladus admissions with his huge luggage.

A trio of individuals dressed in austere black robes run towards him, but suddenly stop dead and go in the opposite direction.

Axel looks behind him and there are two beautiful young women, about 17 years old, who grab him, one by each arm, and take him away, signaling the luggage porters to follow them.

"Hello, girls," says Axel, delighted.

"Welcome, Mr. Rubio. We are legal advisors for VisionCorp and your welcoming committee."

"Wow! I've never been welcomed like this before," he says.

"It's not because you don't deserve it, sir," one of them replied diplomatically.

Blushing and changing the subject, Axel asks:

"And those three who came for me, do you know who they were?"

"News travels fast on Enceladus, sir. You represent a danger to their religion. They probably wanted to kidnap you."

"Kidnap me? Why? For what purpose?" he says, alarmed.

"Their religion is based on a mystical smell that only they possess. They know that you are the Master of Smells Masters and reproducing that smell would be a grave sacrilege against their faith or their smell relic."

"A smell? And what smell is that?" asked Axel, astonished.

"We would prefer to discuss more serious topics," replied one of the girls, making it clear that they were not willing to discuss religious nonsense.

"We want you to know that you have committed an illegality that you must remedy immediately," she made a long pause. "You have patented a Sensocinema system."

"You will have to change the owner of that patent. It belongs to VisionCorp CO, since you patented it after signing your scientific servant contract. Read the clauses on assignment of inventions, discoveries and reworkings."

"Change the name on the patent or you could…" leaving the supposed consequence in suspense and continued: "you will always be credited as the author, but you cannot exploit it commercially."

"No problem, I didn't know," he apologized.

"We have arrived," said one of the Rastafarians. "Wait. Don't get off, it's not safe. They sent some messages with their communicators and said: 'The boss has assigned you a servant who will come out to get you.'"

There was a battered ship next to a tiny dome of which only the structure remained and machinery covered with ice inside.

In front of the ship there was a group of people, some in black robes, like those at SpacePort, with electronic banners that said: "The Aroma is Holy", "The great Aroma belongs to us", and changed to other slogans like: "Out impostors, heretics, sacrilegious!"

Some gorillas over 2 meters tall appeared and started handing out electric beatings without a word. The people disappeared into the blizzard.

From the house-ship came a tall man who looked like a movie actor and dragged a small cargo sled. Leaning out to the electro-sled that had brought them, he said:

"Hello, I'm Efe, I'll take care of your luggage."

While Efe was arranging the suitcases on the small sled, one of the Rastafarians, looking at Efe's butt, said to him laughing: "Ask the boss to let you cross your genes with mine."

"How vulgar!" commented Efe when they had left.

"Who were the protesters? Religious, right?" asked Axel.

"Yes," said Efe without giving it importance. "On this moon, any religion is officially forbidden, but there are still several. Those were from one they call Shivaism."

"I've been told it's based on a smell?" asked Axel. "It must be a myth."

"The Aroma of God exists. Just attend one of their rituals. They let the faithful smell it at the end as an offering. The first converts were two servants of the Submarine Force Authority who were visited by a Naga and left them the stone that they now keep as a relic and that gives off the smell."

"Their sacred book, the Shivanan, tells that Shiva came through a space-time tunnel, which he himself created, to the abyssal zones of the Enceladian ocean. There he turned some serpent fish into Nagas, to worship him. And one of these Nagas, disciples of Shiva, revealed 'the truth' to the sailors."

"Most servants believe in the Nagas and in Mr. Shiva. I also," confessed Efe. "We haven't seen them, but we have their aroma as a living testimony. Shivaism defends the rights of all living beings," declared Efe proudly.

"The aroma can only come from a divinity. There is nothing in the universe with such a sublime smell. It makes you believe in the spirit, even if you've always been a materialist."

"I need to experience it," said the Master of Smells. "Take me, please."

"For now, it will be impossible. You are the person on this moon that they trust least, and remember that it's a forbidden cult. They wouldn't allow you to get within a kilometer of the aroma relic."

"If the Force locates them, surely they will imprison them for anti-scientific practices. VisionCorp has already tried to buy their sacred relic. And you are none other than VisionCorp's Master of Smells. They know that you would try to reproduce it and also that all your creations belong to that company they consider diabolical."

Episode 3
The smell

All new inhabitants of the moon, coming from anywhere else, had to be authorized by the Council of Notables. But Axel was an exception, considered a VIP servant, since his father lived on Enceladus and he had been hired for an important position by the president of the Council: Mark Dassault. That is why they were welcoming him at the Ministry of the Past and the Future.

There were Ministers of the Here and Now, but this one dealt with matters that had to do with the past and affected the future of the Colony.

"The key is in that smell," said the Minister. "I'll tell you what we really know," he continued. "Very few know it, so… the secret binds you."

Axel nodded slightly and looked at the small logo of VisionCorp CO that the Minister wore, embroidered on his suit.

"All that Shivaist religion stuff, like the rest of religions, is nothing more than nonsense from ignoramuses who don't understand science."

"The myth originated with Andreas and another marine, some servants of the Submarine Force Authority who lived two generations ago and were visited by a virgin or a Naga, while they were maintaining the water purification filters. At least that's what they told, and all the Outcasts (that's what we call the servants who live on the surface) believed them."

"Andreas recounted that when the virgin or Naga appeared to them, he smelled an incredible aroma, unlike any other smell that existed, a supernatural smell," he made a dramatic pause and took a sip of infusion. "You already know that on Earth many other supposed apparitions of the virgin have also been accompanied by stories of wonderful smells."

"The smell of holiness has been much studied," said Axel, nodding. "It is an aroma or fragrance (from the Latin fragrantia, from the verb fragrere, to feel with the sense of smell; not from the verb olere, to smell) of exceptional softness; a perceptible perfume, but it is felt not as a smell, but as an immense emotion and to which a supernatural origin is attributed," seeing that the minister was looking at him attentively, he continued.

"There are many documented cases, whether smells of living or dead people. It is said that the tomb of Saint Teresa of Avila smelled of holiness, even nine months after her death. The body of the venerable Mother Maria of Jesus, 3 centuries after her transit, after her exhumation, is said to have smelled of 'sweet perfume of roses and jasmines'. Although the sources of these accounts are not very reliable, they are beatific."

"Nonsense," said the Minister of the Past and the Future. "We know that the smell we are after is a pheromone produced by some sirenids that inhabit this moon, about which we know nothing. Neither where they hide, nor how many exist. Most of the recovered corpses of these sirenids don't smell of anything. We have only had one that gave off an intoxicating aroma. We believe it was in heat. That aroma could not be preserved. Nor have we been able to obtain it from other sirenid corpses found later."

"Even if we located the sirenids, it is unlikely that we could obtain as much product as to satisfy our desires. Hence your presence in this world. We have brought you here to find and synthesize the perfume of holiness," said the minister, getting up and leaning both fists on the table. "With that smell we could control the outcasts. Did you know that musk was used on Earth, in the Tabriz Mosque, mixed with the mortar, to win over the faithful?"

"Yes, I've read it," Axel answered.

"And that's the least of it," said the minister. "Imagine the wealth we would obtain by exporting that product to other worlds. Moreover, it is a powerful aphrodisiac, capable of turning anyone into a sex slave," and he looked up at the ceiling. "Power, fame, wealth, and sex," he enumerated, counting on his fingers. "The four motivations of man to drive him to… to anything," the minister emphasized.

"It's not an easy task, minister," said Axel. "It's not just about capturing one of their sirenids (in heat) and bottling its aroma. In my research, I have found that the aura of people is something more than the radiation recorded by Kirlian photography or the colors, as some gurus claim."

"The aura is mainly composed of smells. Each person emits a different aura of smells depending on the quality of their personal essence. But also these aural emissions change with circumstance."

"If the smell of a fig tree is different in summer or autumn, or if a flower has different smells depending on the time of day, imagine the variation there will be in each sirenid. They will all have different influence, different effect on others."

"You say that because you haven't smelled it. It's so potent… it's like a fresh breeze on a warm morning bringing the good news of a pure nature. Of something so pure that it cannot exist in the real plane."

"It's a smell that is confused with the spirit, liberator of all the emotions experienced by the being. An aroma that makes you forget any belief… slight but unquestionable, fruity and mystical like the experience of happiness. You manage to reach peace with yourself; full, like an immense wave of divine grace making its way into our being."

"You would give your life to keep smelling it," the minister went to a safe and took out a briefcase that he placed in front of Axel, opening it.

"Here is one million paks," he made a long pause. "You will receive ten million more if you manage to synthesize the smell."

"Tomorrow an expedition leaves to capture and put at your disposal those beings the outcasts talk about. You will go on board."

"What for?" objected Axel. "I'm not useful for hunting, fishing, let alone capturing ethereal beings."

"They may not manage to capture any, but your prodigious nose might be able to memorize the smell. That's all we need, isn't it?" concluded the minister in a tone that offered no discussion.

Axel looked at the briefcase and said:

"I don't think I can contradict you." And they shook hands.

Episode 4
Towards the port

On the screen of the car that would take them to the port, superimposed on an image of the destination port, it read:

• Destination: Roald Amundsen Harbor
• Estimated travel time: 2 hours 21 min
• Cruising speed: 227.78 m/s, 820.0008 km/h
• Time on Enceladus: 6 h 01 min
• Surface temperature: -32 K, -305.15 C°, -517.27 °F
• Cabin temperature: +290.15 K, + 17 °C, +62.6 °F
• Recommended adjustment of your personal gravitational counterweight: Sitting: *45. Walking: *89.

The maglev-train car began its journey. It was 50% occupied and everyone wore white camouflage suits.

The trip sponsor (one of the richest men in the universe) and main shareholder of VisionCorp sat next to Axel.

"Nice to meet you," he said, shaking his hand. "I'm Mark Dassault. Your father was an extraordinary man. When he died, we were glad that he had a successor in his trade. Not many people have his sense of smell, much less his mastery of sensory composition," said the arch-millionaire.

"Thank you," said Axel, intimidated, in a barely intelligible voice. "And thank you for my job."

"Don't thank me. We don't do it out of charity. You are one of VisionCorp's biggest bets. My partners and I have expectations that it will be the most profitable," he said, pointing to a group of passengers who, like him, wore the VisionCorp logo on their suits.

"Is the objective of this expedition to capture a sirenid to study it?" asked Axel.

"Capture? If we find them, we will kill as many as we can. Some will contain enough product to extract," said Mr. Mark.

Axel could not hide a grimace somewhere between astonishment and disgust.

"I don't think it's appropriate to treat living beings as merchandise," said Axel.

"Swallow your suspicion, my friend. There's no other way. If we capture a specimen, the others would know instantly and flee. Do you know that many people say they are more intelligent than dolphins and that they have telepathic language? We could spend centuries before capturing the right specimen. No. A quick massacre is the cleanest," said Mr. Mark.

Flashing red alarm lights came on. On the screen appeared the message "Obstructed route. Possible terrorist attack."

"Damn sons of a dog orgy!" shouted another millionaire VisionCorp shareholder.

"I knew this would happen," said the expedition captain, drawing his electric weapon. "Those religious maniacs are trying to prevent us from dismantling their absurd doctrine."

The train stopped and the doors opened. The long tunnels through which the transport moved were ancient lava rivers forming a labyrinth in the shape of a circulatory system under the ice.

One side of the tunnel was occupied with crops. Illuminated with bioluminescence, the most used type of light on Enceladus.

The atmosphere of the crops was treated, so the train doors opened directly onto the marijuana field, the most cultivated plant on Enceladus, after algae, for its multiple applications.

The monks and guerrillas, some dressed in black robes, others in strange and colorful clothing, were peaceful. They carried no weapons except small non-lethal electric stun guns.

They had hacked the small train, forcing it to stop.

One of them got on and invited the passengers to get off.

"If you want to continue the damn journey without suffering damage to your personal belongings, I advise you to get off immediately. We will take reprisals against those who do not cooperate," said the guerrilla.

Once the crew and technicians had disembarked, one of the guerrillas said:

"If you go out to hunt, the sacred Nagas will destroy you. They can do everything. Their goodness is infinite, but not their patience," affirmed one who seemed to be the spokesman of the group of twenty that surrounded the expedition members clad in their white camouflage suits.

"It's not legal for you to detain us," said Mr. Mark.

The guerrilla leader made a rude gesture with his finger and said:

"We can lose you for many years in the lava tunnels, until you are forgotten and your assets are auctioned off."

"What do you want?" replied Mr. Mark angrily.

"Your word as gentlemen that you will not harm any living being," said the guerrilla.

"That's impossible," objected Mr. Mark, and thinking better of it, he added: "Let me consult with the shareholders," he asked.

After a quick conclave among the frightened millionaires, Mr. Mark announced:

"Agreed. We promise."

"We trust your word as good men, who wish to coexist on this moon. If you break it, the revenge will be proportional to the offense," said the guerrilla, gesturing for them to get back on the train.

The maglev-train continued its silent march, showing the new temperature adjustments and time estimates.

"How naive!" laughed Mr. Mark.

"And you're not afraid of their revenge?" asked Axel.

"If we achieve our goal, nothing else will matter. The universe will be mine… ours," corrected Mark Dassault.

"Incompetent!" shouted Mr. Mark for no apparent reason, addressing the beautiful flight attendant, with a despotic gesture.

"They don't make them dumber because they can't," he added, turning to Axel.

"Serve me my barley cordial," he shouted, looking again at the maglev-train attendant. "Do I have to teach them the same thing every time I get on this junk?"

And turning to Axel, he reflected:

"They don't appreciate what one does for them, they don't try hard… what a pain!…"

Episode 5
The white submarine

Axel put his foot on the boarding gangway of the ship, looking right and left with some suspicion.

"In the depths of this alien ocean there will be monsters that haven't even been discovered," said Axel. And pointing to the turret from which a small cannon emerged, he commented, without addressing anyone in particular, with a nervous laugh: "Expedition submarines are barely armed with electric rays that don't seem to have more power than my toaster. It's doubtful they can do more than tickle a gigantic leviathan, in case we come across... with something..."

His attention was caught by a module or windowless wagon added to the submarine.

"What function does that vehicle have?" he asked the captain, standing next to the gangway.

"Oh, it's just for storing the catch," he said.

"So big? How many do you plan to catch?" asked Axel uneasily.

Entering the small capsule, he curled up in one of the rear seats.

In the cabin were three millionaires and the captain. In addition, in the two armed turrets there were two other servants in Submarine Force Authority uniforms waiting for them on board, at their posts.

The submarine's control panel, which no one operated, was simple or rather invisible. There were no buttons or indicators, just a curved and smooth dashboard. When the dive began, it began to light up, showing data and images.

"I don't like it," said Axel, looking into the unfathomable darkness. He had barely finished saying this when the submarine shook and a huge green and red cephalopod leg made the cabin creak. But one shock was enough for the enormous kraken to release its prey. A giant eye looked at him from outside, as if in reproach, and he saw it sink again into the total darkness of that alien ocean.

"We can't waste more energy," said the captain. "That shock has consumed one percent of our capacity. We're switching to energy-saving mode," he added, turning off the interior lights.

A weak light illuminated the cabin when some indicator on the dashboard activated.

Unusual bioluminescent beings passed in front of the weak cruising lights.

Some powerful exterior spotlights activated, focusing on enormous fumaroles coming out of a wall.

"We've arrived. The specimens we're looking for have always been seen in warm waters," said the captain. "Logically, they have their lair near one of these white fumaroles. Besides having the optimal temperature, they are also a source of minerals. Of course, they could be anywhere else," he admitted. "In any case, this is the last location we have news of."

"I'm going to connect the sound," announced the captain. "With it, we can hear for several kilometers."

Curious and frightening sounds began to be heard beneath the dominant sound, which was that of gas escaping from frozen cracks stained pale green and populated by restless giant polyps and elusive white creatures similar to huge crabs.

A cyclopean manta ray that had been hanging from the wall passed in front of the sub's lights; its wings obstructed the view.

"It never ends," said one of the millionaires. "How big is it?" he asked rhetorically.

When it had passed, a minute later, by chance, something resembling a sirenid or a manatee shot out of the fumarole at full speed, crossing the light and disappearing into the darkness.

"They live in the crack!" shouted Mr. Mark. "Go in," he ordered.

"It doesn't seem like a good idea to me," said the captain. "In there we don't know if it will be very hot or very cold. It's unexplored terrain, a cryovolcano," objected the captain.

"Don't be timid," said Mr. Mark angrily. "I didn't become the richest man in the world by wimping out."

"The cryovolcano breathes. It has cracks that expel gas and others that swallow water," observed the captain. "We will venture through one that swallows. Getting out of there will be another matter," he added gloomily.

Immediately, the submarine was dragged by a powerful current and began to spin in the whirlpool at a devilish speed.

"It smells like vomit," announced Axel, turning towards one of the millionaires just as he spewed a stomach expulsion onto him.

Episode 6
The discovery

Upon waking, Axel saw that the captain was piloting the electro-sub towards the shore. The other passengers were still unconscious or dead.

"The smell is unbearable," said Axel, putting on his respirator and breathing deeply.

"Where are we, captain? What happened?"

"I have no idea," answered the captain. "Check if the others are alive and put atmospheric equipment on them. Quickly."

"I think one is dead, I'm not sure," said Axel.

Mr. Mark Dassault, the great magnate, began to wake up when they put the individual atmosphere unit on him.

The captain docked the sub on the shore of a lake inside a large cavity in the ice. There was strong gas and snow activity.

He opened the hatch and jumped out. Mr. Mark and Axel followed him.

"There's no city," said Mr. Dassault.

"Why would there have to be a city?" replied Axel, "that's absurd."

"Well, if they're a civilization, they'll have some city, won't they?" answered Mr. Dassault.

"I don't think so, Mr. Dassault. The artificial is the opposite of nature. Civilization as you understand it is only human. On Earth, the balaenidae and delphinidae have older civilizations than the human one, according to what science has proven, and they still haven't created anything artificial."

"So what?" said Mr. Dassault, annoyed.

"Believe it or not, the smell in this cave is fabulous," said Axel.

"I don't smell anything," said Mr. Dassault.

"Neither do I," affirmed the captain.

Axel, without paying them attention, began to walk around the cave like a bloodhound. Finally, retracing his steps, he stopped in front of a crack. "It's here," he asserted.

"Come on, come on!" urged Mr. Dassault. "Go ahead to guide us, Mr. Axel."

"Wow! I've been promoted to mister," said Axel, entering the ice crack.

When they had advanced a while, the captain raised his arm.

"Silence!" he asked. "Don't you hear?"

Mr. Dassault and Axel remained still, listening. Indeed, in addition to the noise of the gases, they heard some hoarse cackles or guttural sounds interrupted by sweet notes, like those made by a violin or a flute. It was hard to say for sure. Sometimes they were heard close and sometimes far away.

"I've never heard such little jingles," said Mr. Dassault.

"It's a conversation," affirmed Axel. "And it comes from below."

Everyone looked towards where Axel was pointing, at the abyss that opened at their feet.

"Let's go down…" urged Mr. Dassault.

"No, wait. It could be fatal," said the captain.

"The smell coming from down there is stronger. Oh, Lord! It's an intoxicating, angelic smell," said Axel.

"If you go down and get it, I'll offer you three percent of all the profits we obtain," promised Mr. Dassault, nervous.

"I don't know…" said Axel, looking at the abyss with reservation.

"Five point five percent," said Mark Dassault, beside himself.

"I accept," said Axel, shaking the millionaire's hand. "Calm down, Mr. Dassault."

"Give me your ice-climbing gear," said Axel, turning to the captain.

The captain gave Axel two gloves, one of them had a display. Axel activated the bioluminescence of his suit and his electro-boots, and crampons emerged from the soles. He also activated the climbing gloves, which deployed mini-crampons. Digging his boots into the wall and his gloves into the ground, he began to descend towards the disturbing abyss.

He didn't have to go down much. When he had descended about twenty meters, a passage appeared before him.

"I see a hallway," he shouted to those above. "The smell is coming from here. I'm going in."

Axel's bioluminescence disappeared.

"He's gone in," said Mr. Dassault, very excited. "Everything okay?" he asked into the radio on his arm.

"OK," the radio answered.

After ten minutes, they lost radio communication.

"Everything okay?" said Mark Dassault. There was no answer.

A few minutes passed. The captain could see Axel's signal on the GPSR.

"He's moving," he announced.

"Almost an hour has passed," said the captain. "And in the last half hour, he hasn't moved. Something has happened to him. But I can't go down; he's wearing the only ice-climbing gloves we had."

"Call the rescue team, or whoever, you useless!" shouted Mr. Mark Dassault.

"No, wait. He's moving." Indeed, the signal on the GPSR was moving, returning.

"Captain, can you hear me?" said the voice on the radio.

"Now yes," answered the captain.

"I've got it. I have a sample, and it's not biological. It's a meteorite that was embedded in the ice," announced the voice.

Episode 7
The revelation

The sensocinema production table at VisionCorp CO was much more complex than the one on the ship Axel Rubio came to Enceladus on and used to invent sensocinema. That one only had virtual controls. This one was professional, even with mixing sections and very expensive analog controls, made with sophisticated materials imported from Earth.

Axel slid the intensity controls up and down, hypnotized by their fine-tuning capability.

On the table there was a capsule.

"That capsule contains a fragment of the object you recovered. The largest piece is owned by the company," said Efe. "Can I smell it?"

"You'll have to wait to smell the synthesis," said Axel. "All smell samples lose if uncapped."

"I need to be alone to synthesize," he said in a bad mood and put on some Bach music that inspired him when he thought.

Axel closed his eyes and visualized himself in the ice cave, at the moment of the discovery. He took in his hands a gray and pink brain-shaped matter and breathed deeply to smell it. The ecstasy was immediate: not only powerful emotions came, but also strange hallucinations. His hands and the walls of the cave turned into a kaleidoscope first, and then into a colored ice cathedral, similar to a translucent Sistine Chapel.

"It was as if all the smells I've ever felt in my life meant nothing," he thought.

"A revelation. I understood why the outcasts had founded a religion and why the greedy wealthy wanted it. They would have had to kill me to tear me away from that stone. If it hadn't been for that voice…"

"Your ambition will be your downfall," he heard. He thought he saw a transparent two-armed Naga.

"Could it be Shiva?" thought Axel.

"Call me whatever you want," said the voice. "I'm just an inhabitant of this universe. Everything you see and hear is what you are prepared to see and hear."

"We are going to give your race a poisoned gift," he said without further explanation.

"What you have in your hands are the Naga pheromones you're looking for."

"With that you can create a synthetic smell similar to the original. The smell of the sirenid in heat is for you the smell of divinity. You will say that it is a meteorite that came from another galaxy. We don't want the gold rush to be uncovered. That's how your secret and the lives of our young are protected."

Axel remained sitting in the ice cave in lotus position, motionless.

The deep voice of the two-armed Naga was replaced by another, sweeter and more feminine, that of a four-armed Naga. In the background, music composed of cosmic noises could be heard.

"I will help you," said the sirenid, extending her four arms in a compassionate gesture. "For I read in your mind all the smells you know and remember. With them we will make the synthesis."

And she began to recite the list of ingredients: —The preparation will be done in a clean room at 7 degrees Celsius.

• —One gram of gray amber from terrestrial sperm whale, aged for a moon's time.
• —One gram of musk from free-range blond musk deer.
• —5 ml of essential oil of Asparagus Albus Flower harvested in a September dawn.
• —1 ml of Stratetraenol from a fifteen-year-old girl C18H22O.
• —0.5 ml of Androstenone C19H28O.
• —0.35 ml of 7-Keto-DHEA C19H26O3.
• —0.22 ml of Delta-16-OL.
• —0.01 gr of Delta 9-OLC21H30O2 tetrahydrocannabinol.
• —… continued until reaching 50 rare and unusual ingredients.

Axel opened his eyes, returning to the present. He connected his personal communicator to the huge mixing table.

"It's already recorded in the system," he said. Now the formula belongs to VisionCorp CO.

He smelled a tube connected to the console that ended in an olfactorium. Then he smelled the sample from the ampoule. He seemed satisfied.

In the next room, Efe was speaking by videoconference with his wealthy Mark.

"Mr. Dassault, I inform you that since his return, Mr. Axel meets with the Shivaists, who now profess true admiration for him."

"I don't know. I think they have made him a member or given him a position, or something like that. I process his accounts and I have detected that Mr. Axel makes a donation of Ͼ1000 Paks to an NGO called 'Servant Rights'. I think it's another facade of Shivaism."

Thank you for your precise information, Efe. You will be rewarded. I will send you the servant Suka. You will be hers all weekend, if you permit.

Efe turned off the display because Axel's office door had opened.

"Dear Efe," said Axel. "Could you bring me a Vulcan infusion? I need a lift."

Episode 8
Glacialis

News headlines are seen:

"Great Magnate Mark Dassault Rescued". Photos of the rescued Great Magnate occupied the front page. In the background of one of the photos, Axel Rubio's small face could be seen.

"VisionCorp Patents the Aroma of Holiness". Said another newspaper.

"The reaction of the Shivaists was not long in coming. An NGO sues VisionCorp for attempting to appropriate an aroma that belongs to all humanity."

"Shivaists attack VisionCorp's ISeries" they disable their sensovideo systems for 3 minutes and cause losses of more than 1 million paks.

"Intellectual Rights Court invalidates NGO's lawsuit. VisionCorp Wins the case." [Mark Dassault appears on the cover photo waving, escorted by his two Rastafarians].

"VisionCorp says the smell of the century will soon be on sale."

We listen to a 3D news broadcast.

An angelic presenter says:

"It is now definitive. Total sensory photography, called sensography or 4's because it could capture and reproduce 4 of the 5 human senses, is a discovery that is now more than 50 years old."

"Later, that technique was perfected, developing Sensory Cinema and Sensovideo that we enjoy today, and through those channels the most coveted perfume will reach every home."

"VisionCorp announces that the first units of the aroma of aromas, patented under the trade name 'XtremeHigh', are now available."

"Demand for 'XtremeHigh' is enormous. There is an unleashed frenzy. Three years of production of the extremely expensive aroma have already been sold in advance. If you make your reservation now, you will receive the coveted perfume within three years. No, four, corrects the presenter."

A counter with the days on the waiting list, which grow without stopping, appears below the image.

"VisionCorp announces that the digital version of the desired aroma will be available in all its productions. 'XtremeHigh' will not only be for the enjoyment of the rich and famous; it will also reach the general public at a more moderate price in their favorite induccine or on their personal devices with a convenient five-year contract."

"If the viewer cannot pay for it and has assets, it will be enough for them to sign a quick will in favor of the company."

"'XtremeHigh' soon on your sensodisplay, on this and other worlds."

We attend an inauguration.

"The great day has arrived," says a beautiful presenter on a tiny stage.

Behind her are banners of "XtremeHigh", "The aroma that came from another galaxy".

"Sign up to receive Xtreme High in your home for as little as Ͼ15.9 Paks per week" — said an ad. Another sign read — "Friday at your 4S sensocinema". "In all theaters. 90 minutes of emotion from Ͼ100 paks".

The servants crowded together to see the show and a cordon of Force Authority prevented them from reaching the small stage.

"The aroma of God belongs to everyone," a voice suddenly shouted.

A mob of Shivaists with electronic banners made their way through the crowd, and one of them threw a stink bomb at the stage. The presenter ran away in terror.

The Force Authority put on gas masks and drew their electric batons.

Within minutes, the shopping center square was empty of people. Only the protesters and the Force Authority occupied the scene.

"The aroma of God belongs to everyone," the voice shouted again. "It's not from VisionCorp."

"It's not from VisionCorp," the Shivaists chanted.

We attend an interview with Axel Rubio on an Enceladus TV channel

A young presenter who looks like an Adonis says, looking at the camera:

"We are with the most famous Master of Smells in the entire inhabited universe. The discoverer and creator of what some have called 'Aroma of Holiness' or 'Perfume of Paradise', synthesized from a meteorite from another galaxy."

"An aroma that, for now, many do not know due to its elitist distribution and high price. Master Axel Rubio has not become rich with his famous perfume, is that not true?" he asked Axel.

"That's right, Rick. VisionCorp CO. owns all the rights, manufactures all the products based on the Aroma and obtains all the profits. I don't even participate in a fraction of the pie. Even though it had been promised to me."

"That's how promises are, Mr. Rubio, the wind takes them away. And on this moon, it seems the winds are hurricane-force," joked the presenter.

"But you have become immensely rich with your sensory tracks for film, television, and personal device productions. Tell us a little about what it consists of."

"Well, I wouldn't say immensely rich. I make a living, yes, and I have a comfortable salary, but I'm not a wealthy. Nor do I have servants. I dedicate myself to producing interactive sensory environments for individuals."

"Everyone has heard of sensory environments. They use them daily when they go for personal maintenance, to the food oven, or to the hypervehicle dealership. But the ones you provide to the environments of the wealthy are much more sophisticated. Please tell our outcaster listeners, who will never have one, what they consist of."

Axel Rubio spoke slowly. In the background, images illustrated his speech.

"The art of perfumers is lost in time."

"Perfume, on Earth, had religious uses. At first, it was only within the reach of monks and kings."

"Soon it became democratized and personal applications arrived to improve body odor or to bewitch a sexual partner."

"With running water, personal hygiene became normal and body perfume fell into disuse. At the end of the 20th century, the boom of industrial perfume began."

"All products carried a perfume: plastics, car seats, bread, everything had an enhanced smell to make the product more desirable."

"Soon those industrial aromas that were limited to objects became environmental. The smell of freshly baked bread or the smell of a new car were sales weapons. Even today, when you enter a store or service, they saturate you with irresistible aromas so that you buy more."

He paused to ensure he was understood, glanced at the audience, and seemed satisfied. So he continued with the audiovisual presentation.

"In 2049, sensography was invented. Those were my humble beginnings on Earth."

"4S sensography reproduced reality very precisely because, in addition to enormous graphic resolution, it reproduced textures, which for the moment were somewhat approximate, sounds… each sensography could incorporate between 1 second to 3 minutes of images, sound, and smells. And it did the smells with enormous precision."

"In addition, I contributed with the invention of the smell zoom, which makes it possible to amplify emanations that in real life were imperceptible, making them distinguishable: strong, very strong, or extremely strong."

"From there, only technology separated us from dynamic interactive environmental experience. A person. Well, a wealthy," he clarified. "They can have one or several sensory rooms."

"A sensory bedroom, a sensory dining room… and there, interactively modify the environment with which you want to impregnate that room."

"Some days you will want to feel like you're having a picnic in your dining room. Another day you will want to feel like you're eating pizza on a terrace overlooking the sea in Capri."

"The sensory dining room provides you, with great realism, images, touch, sounds, and most importantly: smells that immerse you in the realism of the experience," he paused and then Axel Rubio said: "That would be roughly it," concluding.

"And now to say goodbye," said the presenter, "Master Axel Rubio and VisionCorp CO have promised us three seconds of a unique experience: to flounder in a sea of 'XtremeHigh'."

Little screams of excitement are heard from the audience. The lights slowly go out and come back on, showing the landscape of a beach on Earth, before the bombs. From the sky, a light emerges.

The audience is hysterical with delight.

There are fainting spells, laughter, outbursts.

Episode 9
Opulence and fall

In a Mari-Shop

"Something like this has never happened on Enceladus," comments an effeminate, heavily made-up wealthy to another at a small table in a Mari-Shop, giving a deep suck on a hookah.

"Since VisionCorp marketed the smell, the religion hasn't stopped growing," interjected another who was sitting with them and held on a leash a very young servant, standing next to them, wearing a jeweled collar and a sleeveless shirt.

"But to attack the life of a person of class… And in their own production center… How horrible!" said another of the gay wealthy, making exaggerated gestures and waving the tube of his hookah in the air.

In the great magnate's office.

"I think Axel is to blame for everything," Efe says to Mark. "Since he arrived, the Shivaists have become radicalized. It's the funds that people like Axel provide that encourage them to commit attacks like this one," he affirmed, pointing to a digital newspaper screen. The Enceladus Saturn Moon Daily. Headlined: Homemade bomb placed in the office of VisionCorp CO's CEO fails. Shivaism demands that they stop selling the Celestial Aroma.

[In the photograph illustrating the article, the great magnate appeared with an emergency resuscitation unit.]

"On top of that, the stupid journalists have taken me half dead. The shares have fallen because of those damned ones. I will withdraw my advertising from that neighborhood pamphlet," he said.

"If we don't do something, they're going to screw us," Dassault continued. "How do the Shivaists find out about every step we take?"

"I've been telling you," Efe emphasized.

"Let's put an end to this instability," said Dassault, confronting Efe. "You are going to dispense my justice," he told Efe with a crazy look.

"My technicians have manufactured an electronic nose that can control product quality, and we have hacked and patented the formula for 'XtremeHigh' in my name. We no longer need any Master of Smells. Humans are unreliable and ungrateful," he said, emphasizing it with a throat-cutting gesture.

At the Atlantis Thermal Baths

Axel suspects nothing and takes a relaxing Turkish bath, submerged in a pool with two servants. One rubs him with aromatic oils, another whips him with eucalyptus branches.

"Whip my legs a little harder, Urhi, I almost don't feel it."

"...your orders, sir," Urhi replies.

The other servant says:

"Shall I order your usual terrestrial shark carpaccio with hot klodka?"

"No. Better a slice of frozen Enceladian watermelon. Today I feel like it more, and also bring that hot klodka," he said languidly, curling up again to continue enjoying Urhi's attentions.

---

In the great magnate's office.

The two black Rastafarian lawyers standing in front of the boss.

"I want him served papers now!" ordered Mark Dassault with his arm horizontally, pointing with his index finger at nowhere. "100%. No mercy," he added, banging his fist on his desk.

"And tonight, have someone take care of my two partners in 'XtremeHigh' too. I chose them because they have no heirs."

---

In Axel's house-ship.

Axel in an expensive white bathrobe, standing at the entrance, holds an electronic card with an incredulous face.

"It's an eviction order. The woman on the card repeats: —You have been officially evicted. You have until 34h of… tomorrow to leave. Do not take any objects. All your accounts and assets are the property of the 4th court. You have not returned your loans.— And again: —You have been officially evicted. You have until 34h of… tomorrow to…"

"How could he have done this to me?" he says, crumpling and stepping on the card. "I have never been lent anything. All the payments they made to me were for my participation in the sales of 'XtremeHigh'. I have witnesses."

"Yes, but they have the best lawyers. I'm so sorry," says Efe with a hypocritical smile, as he walks away with his back turned.

That same night.

Axel, naked, chooses a program to sleep. "Andromeda Pulses", "Music from the Triangle Galaxy". Changing the selection, he sees. "Night on a Terrestrial Beach", "Dawn in Antarctica", and selects "Primary Terrestrial Forest".

Meanwhile, outside the room, Efe opens a small box. Inside is a mechanical tarantula with two enormous fangs. Efe slightly opens a door and inside Axel's bedroom come out sounds of crickets and frogs, the sound of the forest. He leaves the spider on the floor and when the spider enters, he closes the door and leaves.

After a while, Efe opens the ship's door to two servant-gorillas and lets them in. He points to Axel's door and waits. The two servant-gorillas come out with Axel, who looks like a rag doll. They put him in the luggage compartment of the electro-sled and disappear into the icy vastness of the Enceladian night with eruptions of cryo-geysers on the horizon occupied by the silhouette of Saturn.

Two Shivaist monks pushing a cart through the tunnel come across Axel's abandoned body in the algae crops.

"He's alive," one says, crouching over the body, to the other.

At a Shivaist couple's home.

"We can't host him. He has to leave right now," says the husband to Axel.

"I understand," says Axel. "I appreciate that you picked me up from that tunnel. If I had spent the night there, I would have died. I am fully recovered now, well, except for my sense of smell. Those damned ones have burned my olfactory receptor cells, not content with poisoning me."

"What can a Master of Smells do when they lose their sense of smell?" asked the woman. "Where will you go?"

"I can still feel some smell if I breathe through my mouth, but I've gone from having a super sense of smell to having less than a normal person. Maybe, with time…"

"It's better that they don't know where I'm going," Axel answered, lowering his eyes. "I've almost lost my life and I've lost my sense of smell, my bank account and my assets seized, but I have some savings hidden that they haven't taken from me," he said, flashing back to the briefcase the Minister of the Past and the Future had given him. "I'll leave this moon. I'll try my luck on another world."

"I'll do fine," he continued. "Besides, I have this," he said, holding a smell ampoule that he wore hanging from his neck. "It's a memory. And on the other side, I have a backup of all my personal data. Very practical," he said, unscrewing and screwing back a part of the small capsule.

At the Enceladus Spaceport.

On a frozen sign it read "Spaceport Galileo". A servant dressed in an impeccable mechanic's jumpsuit receives a wad of bills from Axel's hands.

"It leaves tonight at 31h Enceladus time on a debris transport that will take you to Dione. There, hide inside a satellite that you will see on top of a pile of scrap. The satellite will be loaded onto a ship with sellable garbage. Once on board, you can come out of the satellite. You'll be fine. The pilot is just an old robot. It's an old passenger ship. On board there are still human food rations for 3 years and the ship still has a functional atmosphere that you can activate with this key. I don't know how long it will take to reach your planet. I think that's all," said the mechanic.

---

Towards Earth

On the return ship, there were not many comforts. Axel only had a personal communicator.

"Hello Earth, Enceladus here," said Axel. "Back to the old, polluted planet," he added with a smile.

On the small screen, Nastromedo appeared and said happily:

"Master! You're going to give me a heart attack. Are you coming back?"

"Yes. I had to leave Enceladus like a thief, hidden in a pile of garbage to avoid being murdered by the corporation," he paused thoughtfully. Finally he stated: "It's better to be poor on poor Earth than the opulent slave of a miserable wealthy."

Episode 10
Back on Earth

He saw everything with different eyes.

The fog of eternal contamination seemed romantic to him, it comforted him.

A wave of empathy united him with the homeless people he crossed paths with.

The ruins were still there 400 years after the bombs, but they no longer gave him chills. Now he adored that landscape, his home. They were like the Colosseum for a Roman.

Losing his sense of smell had been a disadvantage for his work but a blessing for living on Earth.

He recognized the streets, which he now walked in sandals, freed from the gravity boots he wore on Enceladus.

All the streets whispered memories to him, sad or happy, but they were part of his life, his being.

He looked fondly at the houses and shops that had survived: the ruined shopping center, the old shoe store; the Happy Family franchise store was still there. He headed towards it and opened the store door. Lin Chu was still there, absorbed in an abacus.

"Can I help you?" he asked aloud.

The Chinese man looked at him. "Mr. Axel, I think you be with honolable ancestol."

The Chinese man consulted a very worn notebook and said, smiling: "You owe Γ120 trums."

"Never has it been so pleasant to pay a debt," said Axel. "Thank you, Mr. Chu. Also, give me a bug pizza. The 'Porco Governo' brand will be fine," he clarified.

"You want with bacon of latón or only cwispy bugs?"

"Just the bugs is fine."

Lin Chu went to the counter, carefully wrapping it in wrinkled paper.

"Is 3.95 trums," he said, extending the palm of his hand upwards.

As he passed by the electronics store, on a holographic screen, a presenter said:

"Rumors are heard of a religion on a distant moon that possesses the 'Aroma of God'."

One day, the smell finally reached Earth.

Axel stood looking at a Sex-Shop window.

In the foreground is a display.

"It's 'XtremeHigh' commercialized by VisionCorp CO," he said with his mouth open.

They market it as an aphrodisiac perfume from distant galaxies, and a 5ml bottle sells for Γ50 thousand trums.

"There is no middle class on Earth," thought Axel aloud, looking at the window. "The general public is poor or homeless and they will not be able to even know the aroma, much less acquire it."

"The advantage is that it is so expensive that the rich will not be able to use it as a control weapon," said Nastromedo, who accompanied him.

"Here on Earth, it will be an exclusive pleasure for the elite, who will use it to spice up their hedonistic pleasures."

"Now I understand why Shiva told me he was giving me a poisoned gift. We poison it ourselves. No matter how important or wonderful the gift is, our race turns everything into merchandise for the benefit of a single greedy wealthy."

The two looked at the 'XtremeHigh' in silence for a while.

"We should do something," said Axel, looking at the little bottle.

---

In a virtual event, Axel is honored by the Academy of SensoCinema Arts.

Axel and an interviewer appear in one of several sections into which the holographic screen is divided. In another section of the same screen, the members of the academy appear, very diverse.

At that event, Axel declares:

"Stop calling it the Aroma of God."

"Religion is the explanation of the ignorant. What they don't understand, they elevate to the supernatural to justify their own inability to reason."

"Those who control the masses with religion should know that it is something very dangerous that can turn against them."

"One day, ignorance attributes magical properties to an aroma, and the next it justifies a war, for the same reason. In the name of a God, any absurdity can be excused."

The presenter says:

"The surprising thing is that Master Axel creates new smells by ear, like Beethoven. He cannot enjoy them, but we can," he said, nodding several times. "Thank you, thank you," he repeated.

"Masters Axel and Nastromedo have founded a new company: Live-Olor CO, which will market an economic version of the smell… I don't know what to call it, well… 'Seraphic Smell?'" he said, asking permission with a look at Axel.

"It provides immediate satisfaction," said Axel.

"And tell us, Master Axel, is it true the rumor that one of the ingredients, declared as THC, is not?" he asked.

"I cannot reveal its exact composition," said Axel, "but I can tell you that it is a modified and unpatented molecule with fine entheogenic or psychoactive properties. And it is legal," he added.

"If there's one thing I learned, it's that the safest way to be robbed by the wealthy is to patent something. Unless you have better lawyers than the big corporations," answered the presenter.

"That entheogen you have added to the product will make it very popular and will provide you with great benefits," predicted the presenter, looking at Axel.

Turning back to the audience, he announced:

"They simply call it 'Soma', its motto is 'A happy world' and they sell it in cylindrical smell capsules, it has a smiley on the lid and they guarantee it lasts at least 12 long inspirations, to enjoy alone or as a couple," said the presenter, showing a small yellow container the size of half a pencil.

"The memory of the ecstatic experience of the smell is prolonged with the entheogen, providing great satisfaction," added Axel. "Ah, and there is no comedown, but we do not advise operating dangerous machinery while consuming it," he laughed.

"They sell it at the same price as an alcoholic drink: three hundred ninety-five trums. Γ 395."

"It is also available, in the same size, in a luxury metal, hanging capsule, which on the other side also has a data memory. Like mine," said Axel, showing his capsule. "For only nine additional trums."

"In the past, we heard you harshly criticize commercialism, but now it seems you yourself are a multi-millionaire wealthy, aren't you?" said the inquisitive presenter.

"If when you are poor and young you don't criticize commercialism, it's because your Intellectual Quotient is very impaired," Axel justified himself.

But the question had touched a very sensitive fiber, so he did what he always did when feeling overwhelmed: he opened his ampoule, the old ampoule that had saved him, which he always wore hanging from his neck, breathed through his mouth and closed his eyes for 5 long seconds. And then he said, getting serious:

"But look, why fool ourselves? It's impossible to be wealthy and not be a bastard."

The presenter laughed at the aroma magnate's witticism.

THE END

---

Map of names, spaces and time

PLACES	PEOPLE
Ma-ka City City where Axel lives on Earth Gelida Mundi (The inhabited world of Enceladus). Glacialis The city on the surface of Enceladus where the Servants live. Alantis Underground city of Enceladus where the Wealthy live. Industrialis Industrial zone near the port. Spaceport Galileo Spaceport of Enceladus. Roald Amundsen Harbor Submarine port of Enceladus. VisionCorp CO Company that hires Axel. IcedZone The entire frozen surface of Enceladus.	Opencast all the social class that must live in the open sky. Autovite An individual of the opencast class. Servants individuals of the opencast class produced by the rich. Nastromedo Assistant to Axel Rubio on Earth. Axel Rubio Jr. Master of Smells. Protagonist. Mr. Mark Dassault The great magnate CEO of VisionCorp. Wealthy Belonging to the multi-millionaire class. Sirenids, Nagas The Purana points to the association of the Naga cult with that of Shiva. Shivaism Religion. Worshippers of the nagas. Force Authority Police or Army of Enceladus.
CHRONOLOGY	MONEY / FIGURES
2467 Axel is born. 2500 Year the adventure begins (33 years old). 2530 Year the adventure ends. 2049 year of the invention of 4S Sensography. 2101 year of the bombs on Earth. Earth-Enceladus distance 1.272 billion km. Trip to Enceladus approx.: 10,095 h, 420 days. Atomic radiation on Earth: 400 MilliSieverts.	Trums (Γ) Currency used on Earth. Paks (Ͼ) Currency used on Gelida Mundi. "XtremeHigh" Aroma of Holiness patented by VisionCorp. Approx. speed of an asteroid: 126,000 km/h. Ͼ 500 thousand paks Cost of an Earth-Enceladus ticket. Ͼ 365 thousand paks Axel's salary on Enceladus. Soma: Γ395.