He heard the hiss that announced Zan Liu long before she made it down the ladder. Her palms controlling the long fall into the Ariadne’s arms with the softest pressure. He watched her land, as a ballet dancer in the lowered gravity, her toes taking in her weight before setting down her heels. The grace of a snowflake. Her jet black hair flowed around for a second longer, falling in slow motion to lay on her shoulders like...