“And you never said a word. Never a word!” He was not hungry, but he nervously took one of the self-heating food canisters from his pack and began to eat from it. She followed his example, except that hers was a refrigerant package. He knew the symbolism was accidental, but it spurred him to another effort.

“Let’s forget what has happened between us,” he said. “It—there is too much to overcome. Too much of shame. Let’s wipe the slate clean and begin from this point. I want to know about you.” She did not respond. “Please.”

She demurred. “A slave may not—”

“Damn slavery! You’re the woman I should have married, and I want to know.”

She was shaking her head mutely.

Aton looked at her with embarrassed exasperation. She had never seemed recalcitrant before—but of course he had not questioned her about herself before. Surely the circumstances negated any token convention. Unless—

“I have it,” he said. “You told me that no one dies on Idyllia. That’s not rhetorical, is it? That must mean that the clients are watched all the time—and not only by their faithful slaves. Are we under observation now?”

She lowered her eyes.

“And if I had not caught you, there at the cliff, some contraption would have popped out of the stone, thumbed its mechanical nose at me, and whisked you away...Answer me!”

“Something like that.”

“And you’ll be demoted to dog walking detail if you say a word.”

“Some of them are very nice dogs.”

“Well, if you persist in this foolishness, I’ll just have to clamber up that cliff again, jump off, and force that thing to nab me in midair before I splatter. Then where would your precious job be?”

“Please,” she whispered.

“I should have brought LOE,” he remonstrated dolefully. “Had we but world enough, and time—”

“I may be coy,” Coquina said, this time with some spirit, “but I’m not your...”

She was lying in the leaves, her hair matted in them. Aton lay down beside her, propped on one elbow. He picked away the bits in her hair. “I was too quick to set aside convention. I did not appreciate the enormous wisdom of the elders’ choice.”

“No,” she said. “That shame is forgotten now.”

“I will redeem it. I promised to marry the daughter of Four—”

“No!” The shell was closed.

•  •  •

The pace was more leisurely after that. Magnificent vistas spread out below as they toiled near the summit. Aton had to admit that he felt better than he had in some time. Coquina’s cheerful mien and quiet strength of character collaborated with the beauty of the scenery to make life once more a worthwhile experience.