He’d wondered then if he’d made a terrible mistake. One part of his mind was convinced he had, another part claimed the moral high ground of maturity and assured him it was the smartest move he’d ever made, that he was indeed finally growing up. He had decided that night that even if it was a mistake that was just too bad; it was a mistake that could only be dealt with by embracing it, by grasping it with both hands and accepting the results of his decision; his pride could only be preserved by laying it aside entirely for the duration. He would make this work, he would perform this task and be blameless in the self-sacrifice of his own interests to Dajeil’s. His reward was that she had never seemed happier, and that, almost for the first time, he felt responsible for another’s pleasure on a scale beyond the immediate.

When, months later, she had suggested that they have a child, and later still, while they were still mulling this over, that they Mutual - for they had the time, and the commitment - he had been extravagant in his enthusiasm, as though through such loud acclaim he could drown out the doubts he heard inside himself.

‘Byr?’ a soft voice said from the little cupola that gave access from the steps to the roof.

She turned round. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi. Couldn’t sleep either, eh?’ Aist said, joining Byr at the parapet. She was dressed in dark pyjamas; her naked feet slap-slapped on the flagstones.

‘No,’ Byr said. She didn’t need much sleep. Byr spent quite a lot of time by herself these days, while Dajeil slept or sat cross-legged in one of her trances or fussed around in the nursery they had prepared for their children.

‘Same here,’ Aist said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and leaning out over the parapet, her head and shoulders dangling over the drop. She spat slowly; the little fleck fell whitely through the moonlight and disappeared against the dark slope of the tower’s bottom storey. She rocked back onto her feet and moved some of her medium-length brown hair off her eyes, while she studied Byr’s face, a small frown just visible on her brow. She shook her head. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘I never thought you’d be one to change sex, let alone have a kid.’

‘Same here,’ Byr said, leaning on the parapet and gazing out to sea. ‘Still can’t believe it, sometimes.’

Aist leant beside him. ‘Still, it’s okay, isn’t it? I mean, you’re happy, aren’t you?’

Byr glanced at the other woman. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’