She and her driver, the servant in orange, remained silent for the duration of the trip, each looking out separate windows as the craft made its way through crowded city streets along a narrow vehicle lane. Her door opened downtown at the base of a black high-rise about a mile away from Busco’s manor. The servant asked what time she’d like to be picked up. She told him she’d walk.

The first floor of the building was an expansive lobby, warmly decorated with a high ceiling. It’s only fixture of any utility to her was the elevator, on the sixty-third floor she’d find the restaurant Menura. On the second floor a man and a woman stepped onto the elevator and took a place opposite her. The man wore all black and tucked his hands into his pockets; the woman wore all white, and held a wine bottle wrapped in paper in her thin gloved arms. The two were staring blankly at her, almost past her. She stared back, examining them, unthinking, as the elevator rose. Eventually the eyes of the man turned and met her gaze, the first movement she’d seen out of the couple in forty floors. She turned away from the two to face the mirrored elevator doors in the reflection of which she could examine more discreetly. A few seconds later the doors opened and she stepped into the ambience of the Menura, leaving the two commuters alone.

Lining the walls were about a dozen booths, enclosed by glass walls and elevated a single step above the interior floor. In the room's center was a large oval platform on which a short-haired woman in a sparkling purple dress was sitting, her hands dancing upon a massive white harp from which music filled the room.

She was about to pass a black podium when an unseen waiter emerged from behind it, stepping in front of her path. He had a wide smile and a thin moustache, and was balding on only the top of his head - a cove of skin.

“Do you have a reservation ma’am?”

“I’m here to see Johannes,” Sofia replied.

“Ah, of course. Right this way please,” he turned around and began to walk into the room, his left side leading as though he were squeezing his way down a narrow passageway. She followed, but stopped in the center of the room to admire the harp player. She seemed too great a talent to be wasted on a distant, backwater planet like Porta Novae. The waiter cleared his throat.

“This way, if you please, Johannes has been waiting for some time now,”

“I’m in no rush,” Sofia stated, staying only a moment more to spite the waiter. He led her past the booths to a group of black glass doors that exited onto a vast balcony.

“Your table is just there,” said the waiter with a bow. His gold-rimmed glasses hung precariously off his ears as he did so, swaying slightly below his round nose. “I’ll return shortly,” he said as he stood, then he returned into the restaurant, pulling closed the glass door. There were two dozen tables here, but only one was occupied. Ares was sitting, silhouetted by the neon glow of San Selen, gazing over the railing. She was wearing a dark blue jacket and a silk scarf. Sofia wished she was as warmly dressed.

“Sofia!” She stood. “It’s been, what, seven years?”

“Only six.”

“It’s felt like an eternity. I have so much to tell you,” Sofia waited for her to elaborate, but Ares only gestured for her to sit. “You look exactly the same.”

“Not exactly the same,” Sofia said, smiling. “But that tends to happen when you travel faster than light.” Ares laughed.

“Is that how that works? I may need to travel more.”

“Speaking of travel, what brings you to Porta Novae?” The glass door opened, and the small waiter began speedily walking toward their table. Ares was silent for the duration of his march.

“Good evening, can I get you two ladies anything?”

“A bottle of white wine, whatever’s most expensive, and . . .” Ares looked to Sofia.

“Nothing for me, I’ve just come from a feast,” Sofia told her.

“. . . and water,” Ares pressed a heavy golden coin onto the table. The waiter quickly snatched it. “After you’ve brought the wine and water, we would like to be left alone for the rest of the night.”

“Certainly,” said the waiter, hurrying away.

“What was that?” Sofia asked.

“What was what?” responded Ares with a laugh.

“ ‘Whatever’s most expensive’,” she teased, “And what was that gold coin?”

“An imperial thousand-mark dinar. How long have you been here?”

“A few days. How long have you been here?”

“A few weeks. I heard from Luca you were en route, so I thought I’d surprise you.” Sofia nodded.

“I guess you’re spending your survey commission, then.”

“In a sense,” said Ares, turning away to look upon the city. Her smile had faded and a strange melancholy had settled in its stead.

“I heard that your team completed the survey of Eshu and that the terraforming process has begun. I mean, that’s an incredible accomplishment. I know how many planets are rejected early in the surveying process,” Ares faced her again and nodded.

“Yea, that’s true, but there’s something I need to tell you about-” The waiter returned, and again Ares fell silent. Over the quiet backdrop of the cityscape, the pair sat contemplatively listening to the tapping of the waiter’s shoes and the clinking of ice in a pitcher growing ever louder, ever closer. Sofia observed in Ares some deep sorrow that she had not previously noticed. The memory of their last encounter seemed so distant now, obfuscated by the long stream of seasonless, yearless time that had been space travel. The friends they had in one another were in a sense long dead, irreparably altered by six years of disparity. They had spoken, sure, through remote communication, though even that had been two years ago. . .or was it longer?

The waiter arrived at the table and Ares’ disposition was at once changed, as though a light had been switched on behind her eyes. She took the tray from the waiter’s hands with a smile, as Sofia tried to clear her head. The waiter bowed and departed.

“What were you thinking about?” asked Ares as she set a glass before Sofia.

“I was just looking at the city,” she lied. “What were we talking about before?”

“You were telling me that you were at a feast just before this.”

“Was I? Well, it was at the palace. The imperial palace. I’m seeking a mining charter,”

“Oooh” said Ares, raising her eyebrows, “The imperial palace. How did it go?”

“The food was good, but the company was a bit dull. I suppose here it’s exactly the opposite,” she filled her glass from the pitcher as Ares filled her glass from the bottle.

“Did you get the mining charter?”

“That remains to be seen. I’m supposed to talk to the emperor about it.”

“Daunting. I wish you the best of luck,” She took a drink of wine.

“What was it you had to tell me?” Ares lowered her glass, then took a long, deep breath.

“Allow me to recount the details of the survey,” she took a drink before setting her glass to the side and sitting up in her chair. “The first two years were entirely routine, mapping the planet, basic atmospheric analysis, that sort of thing. I took the lead on locating mineral veins, and had pretty great success. I was told that it was my work that earned the survey a three year extension to evaluate the potential of a terraforming project. In the third year our team lead retired, and to my shock, I was given her position. Since this was a potential terraforming project now, things changed . . .”

She took a long drink.

“If there was any life on the planet it would of course be granted protected status and couldn’t be terraformed. Searching for life wasn’t our top priority yet, but during the third and fourth year we began to see more and more signs it might be there. Liquid water, amino acids, phosphine, methane, oxygen. By the end of the fourth year we were waiting on the arrival of a specialized aerial probe. We thought that there might be microbes of some kind high in the atmosphere. The survey team at that point pretty much took a three month break to wait for the probe to collect results. A month after it was launched I was contacted by the terraforming company that was interested in Eshu. They told me that if there was life and I’d look the other way, they’d pay me generously. I obviously turned them down. Over the next month they tried repeatedly to bribe me, upping their offer every time. I mean, Sofia, you wouldn’t believe how much money it was. . .”

“Ares, -”

“A month passed with no offers, and I started to wonder if I had made a mistake. They had offered to pay me regardless of the findings of the probe, and I mean, life has only been found on one planet besides earth,”

“Venus,”

“Yea, Venus. And they terraformed over it there. That’s what kept me from taking their offer, though. If life was there it would be some special, sacred thing; I couldn’t let it be destroyed. But at the same time, I began to think of all the good I could do with the money they were offering me. I could’ve helped hundreds of thousands of people facing food insecurity or poverty. They didn’t send any offers for a month. I felt like I was choosing the lives of microbes over the lives of human beings. I went back to the survey station a week early, I couldn’t wait the full three months. They were waiting for me there. They had increased their previous offer tenfold, and told me it was my last chance to accept.”

Tears were welling in her bright eyes.

“It was there, Sofia. There was life and I sold it out for a seven percent stake in their company. We replaced the microbes with proteins the company had synthesized. When the survey team returned, no one had any doubts. We even wrote a paper. . .” her fist was clenched around the stem of her empty glass.

Sofia poured her water out onto the balcony and refilled her glass with wine. The two sat in silence for what felt like a long time.

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” Ares tried to say, but the word was caught in her throat. She did her best to regain her composure. “I don’t regret it. When they announced they’d terraform Eshu my shares doubled in value. That was over a year ago. I was paranoid at first, worried that either the Confederation government would find out what happened, or that the company would just kill me to cover their tracks. But here I am. No one’s looking for me.” Ares dabbed her eyes with her scarf and looked up to Sofia. “The truth is I didn’t come here only to catch up, though I’m glad we have. You’re one of the few people I can still trust, and I’d like to put your skills to hire if you’re up to it.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Transportation, some cargo and two passengers. No questions. Past Orisha.”

“Orisha!? What?”

“I said no questions,” Ares said with a dry laugh.

“I don’t know, Ares, I came here to procure a charter and mine. That will keep me occupied for at least a year or two.”

“Well, take your time to think about it, we can discuss it again in a few days.”

“How long can you stay on this planet?” asked Sofia.

“No more than a week, maybe even less if something comes up.”

“Maybe you could visit me at the manor sometime, and I could introduce you to Luca’s brother. . .”

Ares raised a hand in polite objection. “No, no; I’d prefer to lie low. Once I’ve heard that you’ve spoken to the emperor I’ll arrange another meeting by letter.”

“ ‘Once you’ve heard’? It sounds like you’re spying on me.” Sofia was only joking, but Ares was not.

“I have been keeping tabs on you lately. . . I heard you had a run-in with a Confederate Cruiser,”

“You didn’t have anything to do with that did you?”

“No, of course not. I can look into it if you’d like, though.”

“Nah,” Sofia swirled what was left of her drink. “It was probably nothing.” Ares nodded.

“Still, taking down a Cruiser is no easy task. You and your ship are beyond qualified for this assignment.”

“You’re starting to get me curious.”

Ares laughed, more genuinely than before. “I already told you, it’s just transportation. Don’t worry about it, you’ll find out more if you decide to take the job.” Silence settled on them for a moment, and then Ares pushed her chair away from the table and stood.

“Leaving?”

“Yeah. It’s getting late, and I prefer not to stay in the open for too long.”

“I’ll probably stay for a few more minutes, to finish my drink.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Ares tucked her hands into her pockets.

“Why’s that?”

“If anyone’s watching, they won’t see us leave together. I’ll see you soon.”

“Ah,” said Sofia, doubting that anyone was watching, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Once Ares had reached the glass doors of the restaurant, Sofia poured the rest of her wine back into the bottle and carried it and a chair over to the balcony railing. She watched as the minutes walked upon the street below, and she imagined holding the bottle out over the railing and dropping it through the cold air. It would chill as it would fall, as though it had been again nestled in the ice of the waiter’s silver tray, as though Ares and herself had only begun to speak, and all was as it was many years ago. But she imagined, inevitably, that the bottle would strike the pavement and burst into a radial spray of glass shrapnel, and with the shattering of the bottle came the shattering of the illusion.