"So war," Octavius muses, sipping Jed's piss-beer, "bloody stupid, isn't it?"
"Reckon so," Jedidiah agrees, sniffing at the strange red brew Octavius had passed him.
"What else shall we do with our time, then? Rape, pillage?"
The end was near, of this Jedidiah was certain. They were headed towards a pile of dirty snow, large to his view, in a speeding remote-control Jeep. Beside him, Octavius was sitting with his mouth open in shock and fear as they sped forward.
"Their passion was expelled in two ways: fighting and making love. On the nights they fought, there was no love-making. On the nights there was love-making, there were no fights. Their two societies seemed to understand this, but they reacted quite differently. The Romans didn't seem to care. They continued to follow Octavius because, hell, he was a good leader, a good diplomat, and an all-around nice guy. The Pioneers...well...Jedidiah's more intimate friends made the effort to seem like they didn't care. The rest gave him dirty looks, scornful words, and cold shoulders."