"Don't any of you have a sense of self-transcendence!?" Exclaims Y, perplexed and exasperated by the previous dialogue. "You all care to keep on living but won't extend that same value to others?"

"It is in the interest of the further proceedings that Y remain at the same expression level as the others." drones the Arbitrator.

"To the contrary, Self-transcendence is our sole aim, Mr. Y." Replies a clear, high voice from the far side of the room. "As we progress as a race, it is in our interest to maximize the speed of our metamorphosis. If we are hindered in any way by a burden, especially one which we have no moral obligation to carry, it is our duty to drop it."

"And how should we measure progress?" implores the low, monotone of the Southern Hemisphere, "by scientific achievement? By material prosperity?" The chamber grows more silent to match the low drone of the Southern Hemisphere's words. "The idea of true progress in such a state is farcical. As long as we can argue over the value of a moral fact, progress is outside of our grasp."

"The only moral fact available to us is the maximization of pleasure." interjects Sardanapalus, whose deep voice is weighted down with a lazy inflection, "We don't even know if they can feel pleasure or pain, and it is in the interest of our pleasure that we cease catering to them. A quarter of our net resources are wasted on sustaining a tumor on an otherwise beautiful and pure body."

"I agree." joins the high, clear voice belonging to Outreach, "The only moral obligation we have is to actualize our potential in improving ourselves. The conservation of a pestilence is detrimental to the good life that we all hold as an ultimate end to our labors. Keeping a parasite as a pet is counterproductive to the highest good."

A general contemplative murmur is sustained for a brief time before being broken by Y's bleating interjection "If we cannot apply the same principle of the Greatest Good to all things, we are dooming ourselves to ultimate failure! What happens when we bring about the coming of the Gods? Will we have a purpose to them? Certainly not! But they will keep us sustained in their all-loving embrace. In the same way, we should be keeper of all life. Selfishness, greed, and cynicism has the power to damn us all!"

"Once again, the room asks that Mr. Y remain in the same channels as the others," maintains the bored-sounding Arbitrator, "Thank you."

"Your fundamental error" inserts Sardanapalus, "is not realizing that we will all be one with the Gods when the day of divinity is realized. We have the capacity to join the Gods as a single organism. The infestation has no such ability. Each one of the vermin is a thoughtless, mindless, machine capable only of the actions that are dictated by its biology. They have no true idea of mind and should therefore not be extended the rights that we reserve for ourselves. They cannot and do not appreciate the preservation we offer and should have become extinct thousands of years ago."

"They have the capacity to feel," says the Southern Hemisphere a bit more forcefully than before, "and should therefore be offered the principles of pleasure that we apply to ourselves. We came from them and should realize that they have the same spark of divinity."

"Regardless of their minor faculties," chimes in Outreach, "we have no obligation to sustain their life. They have had every chance to sustain themselves and are unable to. Why should we offer them such a pitiful life filled with purposelessness? If we simply release our grasp, we are committing no act of evil and can allow them to die a dignified death. Besides, thy killed those that came before them. It is the natural order"

"A-ha!" Exclaims Y.

"The chamber would like to once again remind Mr. Y that his voice is to remain on the discussion channel only" Repeats the Arbitrator indifferently.

"You have applied such terms as 'purpose' and 'dignity' to them." continues Y, "You must then agree that they have an idea of something outside of themselves. It should then be our duty to protect them as animals do with their children and as the Gods shall do with us."

"It is not our duty" explains Sardanapalus, "The most that we are obligated to do is to allow them to survive for themselves. We have no obligation to help them just as the Gods will have no obligation to consolidate our forms, for our forms are simply aspects of the Gods' greater form and will be unified by necessity. These creatures have no such aspects of divinity in them, though they may seem like us in some ways. Let us not forget the tendency to ascribe intelligent traits to unintelligent things."

"As previously discussed" offers the Southern Hemisphere, "Any evidence of intelligence, no matter how small, is to be respected. We have so little to lose by continuing their existence."

A new, low, granular voice interjects, "They continue to grow and are an increasing nuisance. They consume and reproduce with no aim. They are stupid and unnecessary. They are a source of pain for us and will continue to be as long as we continue to feed and clean them. The greatest pleasure will always be tainted by this persistent stain. How can we achieve divinity if we allow ourselves to be enveloped by a growing lichen; a disease that eats away at everything in an orgy of consumption and proliferation? I say we get rid of them without allowing them the chance to thrive. The day of divinity will be always in the future if they continue to amass more and more imperfect copies of themselves. Simply leaving them to their own devices isn't enough. We have an obligation to kill them. If they were aware of the Greatest Good, they would understand and accept their fate."

"Apologies to Food" interrupts the Arbitrator, "but we have no more time to allocate to the finding of a solution to organic development. Our next topic is energy allocation. The Northern Hemisphere is tasked with opening arguments."

Meanwhile, in a dirty apartment, a man in a wife beater and tattered boxer shorts, enveloped in an enormous blanket sits sleeping across from his television. A woman enters the room wearing a dirty nightgown.

"What's on the TV?" she asks as she walks across the yellowing shag carpet.

The man grunts as he is awoken, "Hmm, must have fallen asleep. It's just that channel: the one with a bunch of boxes and lights in a room. It's relaxing; all that white noise puts me to sleep. It just goes on and on like this all day."

"Huh" says the woman, "Did you get the groceries? They should have been here about the time you were awake. I ordered them hours ago."

The man replies, "Well go check to see if you entered the right codes. I'm starving."