The tem’ondri left. The maid, they discovered, was already gone. The woman led Ula by the hand, into the tunnel the females had taken, and he thought they would be following, but as they walked into relative darkness they were alone. The arthropods disappeared as quickly as ants. The tunnel was cramped, hot, and seemed to trail upwards. There were lights embedded in the walls; electric, Ula was glad to note. The mansion wasn’t as traditional as it seemed. Every so often the tunnel crossed into what seemed like hallways, and Ula could see the doors of other rooms, but the woman kept tugging, the pull of her fingers like the almost imperceptible rise of the tunnel, until they passed through an arched, open doorway. This led into a gigantic space twice the size of the hall, the room strangely empty. A bed, a rack of clothes. A set table by a bay window that stretched the entire length of one wall, darkness beyond. A huge travel chest, hers he guessed, made of planetary wood, gleaming and red. The dipped oval of a traditional tem’ondri bath at the foot of the immense bed, a hole dug into the floor itself. And nothing more, just bare space. Ula could have used the room to graze at least forty cattle for a number of weeks, could have grown hundreds of cane. He stopped, looking at nothing. The woman let his fingers go.

‘The tem’ondri thrive on extravagance.’

He glanced at her. ‘It has been said.’

‘Not by you.’

Ula shrugged, turning, trying not to marvel at the space. ‘Saying it won’t change their urge.’

‘It would place the urge in context. And your place within it.’

She leant on the edge of the bed, bare feet touching the rim of the bath. Paar-Ull. The traditional way. Only the richest of the rich could afford to have them dug. She watched him.

‘The context won’t change the fact.’

She laughed, the sharp sound echoing. She knelt by the side of the bath, pressing buttons that caused water to flow. Steam rose.

‘Still the same Ula,’ she said, pressing another button. Blue liquid escaped from a thin faucet into the tub. He walked a few steps towards her.

‘So it is you.’

She fought disappointment, lost. Her lips were a thin line. Her eyes darted.

‘I thought you’d recognised me. Thought you’d made up a lie. I was proud.’

‘It was the truth.’

‘Of course. You haven’t changed.’

She slipped from the dress, her naked body bright, soft as he remembered. He didn’t know what to say. She placed her clothing on the bed and lowered herself gently into the bath. Ula came closer. She was covered by bubbles up to her ribs, small breasts exposed. She wouldn’t look at him now. She hadn’t changed either. He was glad.

‘How did you bring me here?’