My twin sister Samantha used to yell at me, "Edward, when you see a woman has done something special with her face, for God’s sake say she looks pretty." It was easy to tell Sam she looked pretty, because she was always as beautiful as sunshine on a lake. With other women though, either I sat there tongue-tied, or I’d try a compliment and the woman would just stare at me… like maybe I was trying to be funny or something. I sure didn’t want an admiral to think I was making fun of her face; so I just ignored her blotchy cheek and gave her my best salute.

It’s hard to go wrong saluting. Especially with an admiral. The woman at my door introduced herself as Lieutenant Admiral Festina Ramos, and said I had to come to the party. "What party?" I asked. Back when Samantha and I had been on active duty, I couldn’t remember navy starships ever having parties. At least, none that I’d been invited to.

"We’re crossing the line in fifteen minutes," the admiral woman said. "You should be there."

I didn’t know what she meant, crossing the line; I was pretty sure there were no lines in outer space. When I said that, she laughed and pinched my cheek. "You’re an angel." Then she took me by the arm and leaned against me all warm and a bit perfumed while she led me to the Willow’s recreation lounge.

The perfume was in her hair.

I wasn’t so used to having perfumey women take me by the arm. Part of it was just being away from human things for so long — what with escorting Samantha on her big diplomatic mission, then the long awful time after, it’d been a whole thirty-five years since I’d gone out in human company. (That made me middle-aged, I guess: fifty-seven… though with YouthBoost treatments, I hadn’t changed a whit since my twenties.)

But even when I was a teenager on New Earth, I didn’t spend much time with women. My father didn’t like me being seen by anyone off our estate. Dad was rich and important — Alexander York, Admiral of the Gold in the Outward Fleet — and he treated me like a big smeary stain on his personal reputation. Even though it wasn’t my fault.