The shades on the bedroom window automatically draw back, revealing a fuchsia sky above the subtropical plant life. Gentle music is piped through unseen speakers, gradually waking me. Getting out of bed isn't easy for me. Every morning since I arrived in New Rome, I have to reconstruct my strange new reality as I wake.
First, I recall that I'm living on a different planet now. Here, we live at the equator: the hottest place on this world. But even under our giant domes, the temperature barely breaks thirty degrees Celsius. We're far from the sun, that ball of light that hangs small and red in the sky.
Then I remember that I'm in charge of a massive corporation with earnings so lucrative I can barely fathom them. I'm meant to direct a small group of people and thousands of bots, androids,
