“That is how the rich Universal rulers like to spin the Utopial ethos, yes. It is rather childish, don’t you think?” Hir hand gestured proudly at the glorious cylindrical panorama. “Could a flawed society produce and maintain this?”

“I guess not.”

“One day, everybody will live like this. Free from constraints.”

“Indeed.” All Kandara could think of when she looked at the tall Utopial was the local priest who had governed so much of her childhood. The scriptures, his ethos, could never be wrong; he would have a patient smile as he explained away every question bold young minds could think of to challenge God’s implacable word. “So what now?”

“There is someone who wishes to meet you before you can begin.”

“Sounds interesting.”

—

It was quite a hike, which Kandara hadn’t been expecting. She followed Kruse into the trees. They’d only gone a few hundred meters before the overhead canopy merged to a single luxuriant emerald roof. Slim beams of light slithered through the long leaves to dapple the ground. Trunks grew closer together and the undergrowth shorter. Several times they crossed narrow, arched wooden bridges with streams gurgling away below. Birds squawked loudly in the high branches, unseen from the ground. It wasn’t long before Kandara took her linen jacket off; the still air was so warm even her trademark black singlet seemed excessive

Finally they came to a small clearing with a stream running along one side. There was a tent in the middle, all billowing white cloth with scarlet edging and bronze guy ropes. The only thing missing to complete the look of medieval pageantry was a royal pendant fluttering from the apex. The whole structure was ludicrously incongruous in a space habitat orbiting an alien star.

Kandara gave Kruse a skeptical look. “Really?”

It was the first time Kruse’s urbane expression faltered. Sie pulled the opening curtain aside. “Jaru is expecting you.” Sie hesitated. “Please be aware of the importance so many Utopials assign to hir, though sie will of course dismiss any such devotion.”

Once again Kandara felt a tingle of unease at Kruse’s piety. “Of course.” She walked into the tent.

It was noticeably cooler inside. The fabric seemed to glow with a rich luminosity lacking in the stark light outside. Somehow the interior didn’t surprise Kandara. The cushions, small fountain, and a single stiff-backed wooden chair all sang: humble yet mystic guru.

Jaru Niyom sat in the chair, draped in sea-blue monk-style robes; gaining an immense dignity by looking as old as anyone Kandara had ever seen. It has to be theatre, she thought. But then sie had already been old when telomere treatments first became available. Old yet rich.