Finity's End

It's a beautiful morning and I'm sitting outside at a farm. The breezes are blowing, the birds and bugs are chittering, and there is a shady tree above me. And I'm reading about piracy and treaties and space. It's not quite working for me this morning.
I love sci-fi. If I were still reading the part where people were frolicking and playing on pollen in the halcyon days of young springtime it would be perfect.
Ah well. Page 29.