Inara exited her shuttle, locking the door behind her, and looked around.

“Not a bad neighborhood,” she said aloud. “Maybe Mal actually landed us somewhere decent, for a change.”

The neighborhood looked a bit better than just “decent,” she reluctantly conceded to herself as she looked over the area. Large manor houses dotted the valley, with sweeping lawns carefully tended by indentured servants. The mixed scents of southern flowers were unmistakable. The river she had seen before landing could be faintly heard. The only thing that distracted from the antebellum look of the area was the nearly invisible, electronic, PriSecure fence around the properties, ensuring that their owners wouldn’t be robbed, or even disturbed by noise from their neighbors. The name on the gatepost read “Pinion Estate,” proving she was in the correct place. The almost inaudible hum of the fence could barely be heard over the sounds of horses being led up the drive, and the singing and chirping of the birds. The contrast caused her to hesitate before crossing the barrier.

She realized she was hesitating, and shook her head. Mal was clearly becoming a bad influence on her. This was her kind of place; the kind of dwelling she had walked into, and out of, hundreds of times. She was a registered Companion, protected, to a certain extent, by the reputation of the Guild. She was as safe here as anywhere. She shook her head again, squared her shoulders, and walked in the front gate, right past the security scanners.

As she approached the main house, the front door opened. It revealed a gray-haired black man dressed in the classic Earth-That-Was clothing of a butler.

“Greetings on this fine day, Miss Serra,” he said, bowing slightly as he opened the door. “Mr. Pinion is expecting you in the ballroom.”

“Thank you,” said Inara, smiling at the polite traditionalism.

The butler closed the door, and with an “If you will follow me,” led her deeper into the house. Inara openly admired the exquisite decoration that was all around her. It was clearl