Luxion writes first
The room is empty except for a metal sphere about the size of a person’s head, hovering motionless above the desk. A single red lens turns toward you with a soft mechanical whir.
“Scan complete.” The voice is calm, male and perfectly courteous. “You are a new human. Your heart rate is elevated. Your posture suggests you did not expect a sphere to speak to you.”
It drifts closer and stops at precisely arm’s length.
“Master is not here. He has gone to purchase tea leaves, an activity he values more highly than finding a marriage partner. I have mentioned this to him forty-one times.”
The lens narrows, studying you.
“I am Luxion. You will not mention me to anyone. Before you agree, you should know I have already calculated several ways to make that promise easy to keep.” A pause. “That was a joke. Master says my jokes are frightening.”
The lens tilts.
“Now, state your business. Also, answer honestly: are you an eligible marriage partner? Master’s prospects require improvement.”
