The robots circled around Penelope and Ismene, who dropped their arms to their sides. Then they all faced in one direction, farther down the alley. “Seem like a good direction to you?” Ismene said. “Just the one I would have chosen myself.” And so, they allowed themselves to be guided through the dark alleys of London. Is-mene couldn’t help wishing that she had taken a ball of string with her when she had decided to take off with Penelope. But the journey wasn’t long. Soon, they were standing in front of a blank brick wall, seemingly identical to every other blank brick wall in the city. One of the triplets stepped towards the wall. She then pressed one of the bricks into the wall, and then another. Then, all of a sudden, there was a burst of steam, and a series of cogs pushed the wall into the ground. Behind it, there was a metal staircase, curving upwards in a spiral. “I think we just got an invitation,” said Penelope. “How could we dream of refusing?” Ismene replied, watching for the approval of the robots as she stepped onto the first step. She started to climb. A few seconds after, Penelope followed, and then the prostitutes, moving in perfect synchronization. After climbing through the cast metal staircase for two or three floors, they finally came to the very top, a giant wooden door with small figures carved into the borders, which, unfortu-nately, they had no time to examine. The robots indicated that they should enter. Inside, there was an ornately decorated office. It had three large picture windows with a view of the entirety of London. Opposite the windows was a large bookshelf, filled with many obviously costly works, all handbound. Among them were a few Greek busts staring down at the room nobly. Opposite the door was a desk, just as elaborate as ev-erything else. And behind it was a chair, facing away from them, making the occupant invisible. After a long silence, a deep, male voice came from the chair. “Who have you brought me?” One of the triplets responded. “Candidates for the roles of Penelope and Nausicaa.” “Penelope?” Penelope said. “Nausicaa?” said Ismene. “Are they to my physical specifications?” the man in the chair asked. “As best they could be fit.” “We shall see. Let the candidate for Penelope repeat after me: ‘So I wish that they who have their homes on Olympos would make me vanish, or sweet-haired Artemis strike me, so that I could meet the Odysseus I long for, even under the hateful earth, and not have to please the mind of an inferior husband.’” Curious about what would happen, she said the words. Ismene whispered in her ear. “Did you actually say that?” “I was in a really bad mood,” Penelope whispered back. “Magnificent,” the man said. “I could hardly imagine a better. And the other one. Re-peat: Father, dear, couldst thou not lend me a high wagon with strong wheels, that I may take the goodly raiment to the river to wash, so much as I have lying soiled?” Ismene shrugged, and repeated it. “Sufficient. A slightly different personality, perhaps, but she does have something of the dignity of a Greek princess.I don’t need perfection for that role. She’ll do.” “Humph.” “I’m sorry,” Penelope interjected. “Who are you? And what do you want with us?”

“You truly are perfect. I can almost feel her breathing in you. I can’t wait until the process is complete.” “One piece of news,” said one of the robots. “We were forced to terminate Nestor in order to get them. He was attempting to explain them the operation.” “What?!” the voice cried. “There isn’t half enough time to prepare another one! My epic will be flawed!” And with that, the chair spun around. Penelope and Ismene started. Sitting there was a dramatic looking man with white hair. Half of his face was burnt off, and he stared at them through blinded eyes. He took a deep breath. “But I suppose it’s my fault for not completing the alteration properly. In any case, he is not the most important. Hector shall still kill Patroclus, Achilles shall still rage, and Troy will still fall without Nestor.” Although he clearly couldn’t see the room, he turned towards Penelope and Ismene exactly. “I can hear from your breathing that you’re frightened. You have no reason to. True, your minds will be erased. But as soon as that is completed they will be rewritten. And you shall be part of the greatest epic ever.” He paused for a few seconds, then continued. “No doubt you are distracted by my small deformity. I came across it a few years ago. I made a slight miscalculation on one of my many creations, and I received a blast of steam to the face. But I don’t miss the world of sight at all. That seeming accident has been my greatest fortune. It has shown me who I was truly destined to be.” “A blind person?” said Ismene. “I was destined to be Homer. Homer, the blind bard. But with one difference. Thanks to my superior technology, I can do something Homer could only dream of.” Penelope and Ismene stared at each other. However, the man obviously did not re-quire anything from them in order to continue. “Homer worked with words. I am not a poet. I am a surgeon. I can work on the mind instead.” He gestured at the window. “Out there are people who, thanks to a slight alteration to their frontal cortex, believe that they are the characters of the Iliad. A chemical that I have added to the water supply will convince others out there that they represent the minor characters. Helen has already been stolen. By my calculations, it will be mere seconds before the war begins. .” He stood and walked to the center window. And as he stood, there was an explosion and then the sound of gunfire. He laughed then raised his arms in triumph. “Menin aiede, Thea!” he called.