Amber's mother is a mentally deranged control freak who lives to dominate her daughter. When she realises that she can't brow-beat her into submission she begins to take increasingly bizarre legal action against her. In an attempt to afford her some protection, Amber's father sold her to a self-owned company in order to shield her from her mother's legal shenanigans.
“I ran away from home. Mom owned me — that is, she had parental rights
and Dad had none. So Dad, via a proxy, helped me sell myself into
slavery to a company. The company was owned by a trust fund, and I’m
the main beneficiary when I reach the age of majority. As a chattel,
the company tells me what to do — legally — but the shell company is
set to take my orders. So I’m autonomous. Right?”
Unfortunately, her mother's legal advisors find a loophole. If she becomes a muslim, her daughter becomes a muslim. In order to avoid submitting to the will of the nearest imam (flown in specially for the occasion) she decides to stake a claim on a passing rock and appoint herself as the potentate of a self-governing jurisdiction in order to avoid submitting to her mother's requests.
“Well.” Amber rolls over and hugs the fat hydroponic duct to her chest
like a life raft. “It’s a legal paradox. I’m trapped because of the
jurisdiction she’s cornered me in. I could talk to the judge, I
suppose, but she’ll have picked him carefully.” Her eyes narrow. “The
jurisdiction. Hey, Bob.” She lets go of the duct and floats free, hair
streaming out behind her like a cometary halo. “How do I go about
getting myself a new jurisdiction?” Monica grins. “I seem to recall
the traditional way was to grab yourself some land and set yourself up
Eventually (and after having traveled for nearly 2 years) the imam finally makes catches up with her in her throne room. Although she, through a series of excellent business decisions, has grown well beyond his jurisdiction she still gives him an audience and listens to him politely, one judge to another and largely for her own amusement:
It’s Sadeq’s turn to shrug, uncomfortably. “I have prepared a
judgment,” he says slowly.
“Ah.” Amber rotates the huge diamond ring around her finger. Then she
looks him in the eye, a trifle nervously. Although what he could
possibly do to make her comply with any decree — “To summarize: Her
motive is polluted,” Sadeq says shortly.