Dajeil ordered food for two; a slave tray appeared with plates, bowls, jugs and goblets. A couple of floor-running servitors appeared and started clearing up the debris left by Ulver’s sudden Displacement from the Grey Area to the Jaundiced Outlook; the feather-light stuffing from the pillows proved a particular problem. The serving tray started arranging the place settings on the table and distributing the bowls of food; Dajeil watched this graceful, efficient display in silence. Ulver Seich gazed intently at the book and turned a page. Then a ship-slaved drone appeared. It floated by Dajeil’s shoulder. ‘Yes?’ she said.

‘We are now leaving the bay,’ the Jaundiced Outlook told her. ‘The journey to the GSV’s external envelope will take two and a half minutes.’

‘Oh. Right. Thank you,’ Dajeil said.

Ulver Seich looked up. ‘Would you ask the Grey Area to transfer my stuff here?’

‘That has already been accomplished,’ the drone said, already moving towards the stairs.

Ulver nodded again, put the book’s marker-ribbon into place, closed the volume and placed it by the side of her plate.

‘Well, Ms Gelian,’ she said, clasping her hands on the table. ‘It would appear we are to be travelling companions.’

‘Yes,’ Dajeil said. She started to serve herself some food. ‘Have you been with Byr long, Ms . . . Seich, wasn’t it?’ she asked.

Ulver nodded. ‘Only met him a few days ago. I was sent to try and stop him getting here. Didn’t work out. I ended up stuck on a tiny little module thing with him. Just us and a drone. For days. It was awful.’

Dajeil passed a couple of bowls over to Ulver. ‘Still,’ she said, smiling thinly, ‘I’m sure romance blossomed.’

‘Like hell,’ Ulver said, levering a few sunbread pieces from a bowl into her plate. ‘Couldn’t stand the man. Only slept with him the last couple of nights. Partially boredom, I suppose. All the same, he’s quite handsome. Bit of a charmer, really. I can see what you saw in him. So, what went wrong between you two?’

Dajeil stopped, a spoon poised on the way to her mouth. Ulver smiled disarmingly at her over jaws munching a mouthful of fruit.

Dajeil ate, drank a little wine and dabbed at her lips with a napkin before replying. ‘I’m surprised you don’t know the whole story.’

‘Who ever knows the whole story?’ Ulver said airily, waving her arms about. She put her elbows on the table. ‘I bet even you two don’t know the whole story,’ she said, more quietly.

Again, Dajeil took her time before replying. ‘Perhaps the whole story isn’t worth knowing,’ she said.

‘The ship appears to think it is,’ Ulver replied. She tried some fermented fruit juice, rolling it round her palate before swallowing it and saying, ‘Seems to have gone to an awful lot of trouble to arrange a meeting between you two.’