Its officer’s jacket hung open, revealing the black tee shirt underneath curving over modest but distinctly feminine breasts. The gray Dendarii uniform trousers were loose enough to disguise the reciprocal bulge in he crotch. Some people found hermaphrodites enormously disturbing. he was relieved to realize he found that aspect of Thorne only slightly disconcerting. Clones who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw … what? It was the radiant I-love-Naismith look on the hermaphrodite’s face that really bothered him. His gut knotted, as he returned the Ariel’s captain’s salute.

“Welcome aboard, sir!” The alto voice was vibrant with enthusiasm.

He was just managing a stiff smile, when the hermaphrodite stepped up and embraced him. His heart lurched, and he barely choked off a cry and a violent, defensive lashing-out. He endured he embrace without going rigid, grasping mentally after shattered composure and his carefully rehearsed speeches. It’s not going to kiss me, is it?!

The hermaphrodite set him at arm’s length, hands familiarly upon his shoulders, without doing so, however. He breathed relief. Thorne cocked its head, its lips twisting in puzzlement. “What’s wrong, Miles?”

First names? “Sorry, Bel. I’m just a little tired. Can we get right to the briefing?”

You look a lot tired. Right. Do you want me to assemble the whole crew?”

No … you can re-brief them as needed.” That was the plan, as little direct contact with as few Dendarii as possible.

“Come to my cabin, then, and you can put your feet up and drink tea while we talk.”

The hermaphrodite followed him into the corridor. Not knowing which direction to turn, he wheeled and waited as if politely for Thorne to lead on. He trailed the Dendarii officer through a couple of twists and turns and up a level. The ship’s internal architecture was not as cramped as he’d expected. He noted directions carefully. Naismith knew this ship well.