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interminable shade, pulled back from her face into a braid, generously streaked with premature gray and tinted with slight orange.
    "What will it be?"
    She pointed to her hair. "Fix this."
    Thirty seconds later she sat in a chair. A woman approached her. "Good afternoon, my name is Belina and what will we... oh my. Horatio?"
    A slight, effeminate man approached, wiping his hands with a towel. "Take the braid out."
    Belina unwound the braid and her hair fell around Claire's face in a dense wave.
    "Better already." Horatio leaned next to her, looking in the mirror at her reflection. "Why is it stained with orange?" he asked softly.
    "Chemical deposits in the water," she said.
    "I see. What will you let us do?"
    "I've been hired as an admin by the Escana family," she said. "You may do anything that won't get me fired."
    Two hours later Claire looked in the mirror. The woman who looked back was about five years younger. A cloud of copper red hair fell on her shoulders in artful cascade, glinting with splashes of gold and deep red, softening her features and bringing out her grey eyes. She turned her head, and the hair moved, shimmering and light. Claire studied the woman's face. It didn't belong to her.
    "Gorgeous," Horatio said as she settled the bill and she smiled back at him without forcing it.
    "Where do business women shop?" she asked him.
    "How much money do you have?"
    She squeezed the ring, checking. "Two thousand credits."
    He borrowed her tablet and scribbled the address with a stylus. "Ask for Sophia. And use the shampoo I gave you. Red fades fast."
    By the time the aerial finally landed in front of her apartment, the sky had grown dark. Claire ducked into the entrance and walked up the stairs to the fourth floor. She pressed her thumb to the keypad. The lock clicked open, and she stepped inside.
    Walls of warm inviting yellow greeted her. The floor was textured tile in a dozen shades of pale green, brown, and beige. Soft green couches waited to be sat on to her right. A curved coffee table carved from some reddish rock rested between them, and on it in a wide glass dish floated burgundy-red dahlia blossoms. Ahead, double doors framed by diaphanous curtains led to a balcony.
    Claire dropped her bags.
    The apartment was completely quiet. She walked across the floor to the door and slid it open. A small balcony presented her with a view of the sunset: above her the cosmos was deep purple and far ahead, at the horizon, where the setting sun rolled behind the distant mountains, the sky glowed with bright vivid red. Wind fanned her, bringing with it a scent of some flower she didn't know.
    She sat down on the floor of the balcony, behind the trellised rail, and cried.

Chapter Three
    Claire opened her eyes. The ceiling above her was cream, painted with yellow stripes from the rays of the morning sun filtering through the window.
    She rolled out of bed and walked out onto the balcony. Outside New Delphi buzzed with life. In the sky, crisscrossing currents of aerials flowed one above the other, sliding toward the distant buildings of the business sector. Below a wide street led into the distance, framed by buildings in every color, shape, and size. People strolled on the sidewalk. Claire watched a young woman leading two little girls walk down the street. Both children wore flowing white dresses and straw hats with small flowers in the brim. Their little sandals made loud slapping sounds on the sidewalk: flop, flop, flop. The woman stopped at a small stall, offering buckets of fruit under a bright green awning. The vendor offered the little girls a cup of some sort of round red berries.
    Suddenly she was starving.
    Claire rummaged through the new clothes she'd hung up in the closet, found a simple pale blue dress, slipped it on, and ran out the door.
    The street vendor was old, his hair almost completely grey, his nose large with a bump, like a beak of some bird. He squinted at her with dark eyes as she looked at the