Valley of the Queens. Clone City. Out on an upper terrace.

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Ang leans back against the sun-warmed stone and wriggles her toes inside her shoes as she listens to her computer tell a story about a little chicken who went to town and saw a clown. It's a rhyming story, simple and catchy, and she's enjoying it very much. And up here there's no one to complain about her listening to it twelve times in a row. Present is curled next to her, asleep and purring.