6.
 Out on the rooftop, he had an acre of gardens smothered in trees. Fountains plashed. He could call upon any number of servants, helpers, gens to cook for him, to satisfy any appetite he might have. For the moment, his most driving passion was loneliness. Enter Adjuni.
There was a knock on the door, he said “come,” and the door swung open. There stood an elegant woman, as tall as he, wearing dark wools and leathers—earth tones. She carried a large purse slung over one shoulder, and wore many fine brass bands on her wrists. She had long hair, glossy, well-cared for, parted in the middle in the fashionable ‘celtic’ look, with a tight coronet of darkened gold forming a narrow circle around her head. “My name is Adjuni,” she said. “They called me from Markep to make sure you have everything you need.”
Flyn’s work, Kery thought. “Come in.” She had pink cheeks and marvelous blue eyes. She took off her leather coat and found a hook for it in the hall. She stepped out of her shoes, as was the custom among the educated and the wealthy—filthy habit, wearing street shoes in the house, spreading disease—and still she was tall. Immediately, Kery took a liking to her. After the sparse little monkey body of Menet, there was something here. She brushed past him, intruding into his space, leaving a wisp of some tart little perfume that made his heart beat a little faster. Unlike Menet, she was a more full-bodied woman. She went to the fireplace and stoked a little fire, saying “It’s always a little chilly up here at this altitude, don’t you think?” She went to the double glass doors and closed them, shutting out the court yard and the garden. “I’ll open them if you want. I’m just a little cold.” She went to the fireplace and rubbed her hands.
Kery went to the wet bar. “Glass of wine?”
“Please. The Carton Fignac 6999 in the corner.”
Kery poured them each a glass. “Sounds like you’ve been here before.”
“Didn’t Flyn tell you? I decorated this place for you. I know everything that’s on this rooftop.” She laughed at Kery’s evident surprise. “No, I’m not a gynefem. I have a doctorate in architecture.”
Kery reddened, embarrassed at what he had thought about her. He handed her a glass of amber liquid. They sat opposite each other in a horseshoe of leather couches around the fire. The floor gleamed in an olivine marble, the fireplace onyxine.
“Do you like it?’
Kery looked around. “It’s lovely. It’s stunning.”
She raised her glass. “I’m glad. From a man who builds planets, that is a real compliment to someone who outfits rooftops.”
“Markep?”
“It’s a habitable planet in a nearby system. I’d advertised for a change. This was an excellent opportunity. So, I thought I’d find out if you like your new home.” She rose and began unbuttoning her dress. “Also, I thought you might be lonely. So I’ll help with the housewarming.”
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