The roof of the manor sloped at only a few degrees above flat. Armistice was located near the equator of New Concordia and the temperature never lowered enough to permit the snow that would require a high pitch. The surface was covered with smooth tiles which looked to be some sort of red brown ceramic but Rene suspected were miniaturized solar collectors. He found access through a seldom visited upper floor doorway which he suspected was used mostly by Armon's servants for repairs and pulled himself up the narrow access way to a small hatch which lead to the roof. Like alot of the manor it had a seemlessness which bespoke expense more effectively than gold plating might have done. 

From his rooftop vantage point Rene was able to see out over the estate, it was nearing noon and the day was sweltering, the hot sun evaporating the rain of the night before in a thick humidity which promised to soak him in sweat if he spent more than a few minutes outside the temperature controlled sanctuary of the manor. The gardens extended in all directions, Mia said the estate was several dozen acres but its neighbors were similar properties which made the boundaries uncertain. The manicured gardens gave way to groves of what might be fruit trees. Rene was no botanist but he though he could recognize the distinctly green leaves of Terran varieties. Macadamia and something fragrant, cinnamon or vanilla. It was doubtful that Armon grew anything so crass as commercial crops but it was easy to understand the desire for pleasant smelling surrounds. Off to the west columns of smoke still blackened the horizon in the city proper. Rioting and looting were certain in the chaos following the coup but it seemed  less pronounced than it had been the day before. Some authority remained in the city.

Rene didn't know how long it would be before Solae was ready to move, but his instincts told him that they couldn't remain in this relative oasis forever. Someone would be along soon, a second wave of looters if nothing worse. Any competent search would begin with Solae's known associates. Armon had probably been exempted from the list because he was dead but as time passed and the noble woman wasn't found the search would be expanded.

"Sir Rene, Lady Solae is trying to contact you," Mia announced her voice sounding wan and off tone somehow.

"Mia how can you reach me out here?" he asked curiously, sliding back towards the hatch.

"There aren't audio pick ups on the roof are there?"

"I am able to use the tiles as improvised speakers," Mia explained, her voice growing normal as he slipped into the hatch and into the cool sanctuary of the upper hallways.

"Put Solae through please."

The Marine listened to the Marquesas's words, his feelings a confused jumble of emotions. That she seemed suprised that he would help her with no thought for himself was natural enough he supposed. They had both swam in the same societal waters as children and unvarnished self interest was far more common than altruism. Rene didn't know how to make her understand, perhaps didn't know himself, exactly why he had done what he had done and would continue on the same path. It tugged painfully at the edges of his carefully constructed shell to think about it too hard. He hadn't been able to save Ameilla. He had failed her and she was dead. He deserved to be where he was, to be nobody. He stopped walking and leaned his head against a cool stone wall.

"I supposed droping the De from De Quentain isn't a tremendous disguise,"  he began, subconsciously addressing the easiest part of her statements first. Theoretically he could have picked another name when he signed up but he hadn't been willing to. Part of it was that he wanted to be punished and another part of him refused to completely divest himself of all he had been before.

"You are a good woman Solae," he went on.

"And I'd have saved you if I could no matter who you were. I'm not going to let them sell you at auction or use you as a bribe no matter what happens."

"As for your behavior, you don't have anything to apologize for, we have both been through alot, and probably will have to go through alot more yet before we are free of all this. I'm not a noble any more and I dont want you to do anything that ... you know you would regret later." The sentence trailed off as the words formed in his mind.

"No matter how... appealing it might be to me," he concluded in a rush.