Honey, honey, how you thrill me, oh, honey, honey Honey, honey, nearly kill me, oh, honey, honey I'd heard about you before I wanted to know some more And now I know what they mean You're a love machine Oh you make me dizzy ABBA - "Honey Honey"

"I don't know what you see in that girl. Aside from big tits, that is, and she's not exactly the type to give you a sneak preview, is she?"

Salvatore ignored Fatuma's crude remark and continued to studiously shell the nuts he was going to use in this evening's vegetable biriani. The Indian dish was just about the only thing Salvatore had learned from Manny Chakraborty back in the days when he had worked under the man's supervision in the Communications Centre. Salvatore hoped Hester would find the dish as delicious as he did himself.

Maya had been invited for dinner at the Koenigs; the Carters and the Commander were apparently going to work on Ceres II for a few weeks, and so wouldn't see Maya again before she returned to Loki in two week's time. Salvatore didn't really care why the Koenigs had invited her over. All that mattered was that he would have the place to himself, and he was hoping to impress Hester with his wonderful cuisine later that evening.

In the meantime, Fatuma had managed to invite herself in, ostensibly for a chat about their upcoming trip to Loki. In effect, though, she seemed more interested in his relationship with Hester.

"Let's face it, Salvatore," continued Fatuma. "Hester isn't the right girl for you. She might only be my age, but she's typical old maid material. She's about as interesting to talk to as a sack of potatoes, and she has all the personality of a wet dishcloth."

Salvatore made a face, though he knew Fatuma couldn't see him. "You obviously don't know her as I do," he said simply.

"Know her? Salvatore, I went to school with her for years! If there was anything to find out about her, I would have found it out by now. I really don't know what you see in her."

"Obviously. But then, I don't know what you see in your friend the Ceresian boxer." Salvatore had nicknamed Tim 'The Boxer' because of his broken nose.

Having finished shelling the nuts, Salvatore placed them in a bowl of water to soften them in preparation for the meal. He then turned back towards Fatuma, who was sitting at the table in the kitchen area of Salvatore's flat.

"We usually agree to disagree," he said, wiping his hands with a towel. "What's so different about Hester that you have to keep attacking her like this?"

Fatuma pouted her lips thoughtfully and sighed before answering. "You're what's different, Sally-boy, that's what. You've gone all macho and chivalrous. I'm ready to bet that if she asked, you'd marry her before you went to bed with her."

"I don't think I'd go that far," said Salvatore with a smile. "Besides, Hester isn't quite that sort of girl, or she'd be married to Michael by now."

"Isn't 'quite' that sort of girl?" repeated Fatuma dubiously. "Either you're sleeping with her or you aren't. If you aren't and she asks you to do a bit of talking to the computer before you do, then I'd say that makes her that sort of girl. What she did with Michael is neither here nor there... Are you sleeping with her?"

"That's none of your business."

"Uh-huh. You're getting married," she declared, raising her fine creamy palms in a helpless gesture. "Getting married, having babies, the whole hog."

"I'm not getting married! I haven't even... I mean, we're not there yet."

Fatuma said nothing, but he could tell from the smug expression on her face that she had got the answer she expected. Annoyed, Salvatore tossed the towel aside and went to empty the discarded shells into the food bin. He made a face as the foul smell from the garbage hit him; time to empty the bin and give it a good going over with disinfectant. Unlike Dover and the new sections of Alpha, the original sections of the Moonbase hadn't been designed with festering food garbage in mind. These quarters had had no kitchen before Breakaway, since everyone was expected to eat in the Cafeteria; the assumption had probably been that their occupants wouldn't have anything that dirty to throw out. While the new quarters had built-in waste disposal units, the older ones had to make do with bins lined with plastic bags.

Salvatore pondered whether he should empty the bin now or wait until the next day. On the one hand, he didn't want Hester to smell it while she was having dinner at the nearby table. On the other hand, Salvatore was too busy to drag the bag all the way to the waste unit. He thought about asking Fatuma to help, but he knew what the answer would be. He decided to make sure the lid was well closed and to leave the garbage for later.

"By the way, have you got a final list of everyone who's coming on the trip next week?" asked Fatuma apropos of nothing.

"Yes." Salvatore reached for his slate on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living area. He fiddled with it to find the relevant information. "Right. We've got enough people to fill about one and a half Eagles. Most of us will travel down on Wednesday's flight, but the rest will have to take the Saturday flight, which will have other people on it as well. The main difficulty is deciding who will take which one."

"I assume that as the organiser, you'll be in the first Eagle."

"Well, it depends how things work out." Salvatore had finished his food preparation for the moment, so he sat down at the table with Fatuma. "I don't want any aggro and people going sour on me because they can't get the Eagle they want."

"'Aggro'?"

"Aggravation... I think. Something Kate Andrews used to say. Anyway, I'd rather travel with the strangers on the second Eagle than have everyone bitching at me once we get to Dover. Having said that, the first Eagle sounds more fun than the other one; it's a Dover Eagle run by a guy called Trevor Worcester. I don't know him very well, but Maya said he was good fun to be with. He's even called his passenger Eagle the 'Millennium Falcon'."

"What's that about?"

"Star Wars. I thought you watched all those movies in the Library."

"I do. I just didn't remember that detail; it was Han Solo's ship, right? See, I'm not completely stupid."

"I'll tell you what, though; Trevor sent me a message this morning and suggested we have a fancy dress party on the Eagle." Salvatore knew Fatuma would be pleased to hear this. "Since we're all young, fun-loving people, or so he thinks, he thought it would break the monotony of the journey. He suggested an Eighties theme night."

"Eighties?" Fatuma wrinkled her nose. "Why Eighties? Can't he have a Sixties night?"

"I don't know. He apparently consulted his co-pilot for next week, and that was what they agreed on. It should be good fun, though. The only problem is that the people in the second Eagle obviously won't get to participate. So I'll have to talk to everyone and see which Eagle they want to be on."

"Who is coming anyway?

"You, me, Hester, Tim, Tim's sisters, Aisha --"

"Aisha? My sister's coming with us? I thought she was going down with Jean-Paul to see Halima."

"Evidently not. You and she should talk more often; she told me she was coming two days ago."

"I was busy with Tim," said Fatuma with a shrug. "And his dreary sisters, of course -- Boring Broekhuizen 1 and Boring Broekhuizen 2. I don't know why he had to invite them on this trip. Maybe he's hoping they'll meet someone at Dover and stay there or something. He has to live with them on Ceres II, and he's obviously hoping to get the place to himself some day."

"Those Broekhuizen girls are younger than me, aren't they? They must have been among the last of our generation. I suppose their only potential husbands are second generation men who are older than them or third generation boys who are younger. Still, they probably have plenty of time to worry about marriage later."

"Well, they're currently seventeen and eighteen respectively, so I dare say marriage isn't far off their minds. Most of our generation were already married or engaged at their age, eager to jump headfirst on the reproduction bandwagon with the rest of their lemming generation. But you're right; those of us at the tail end of the generation don't need to worry so much. The rest of them are breeding enough to keep the human species going. My sisters at the top of the list, of course. Soon-to-be nine kids on one side and soon-to-be five on the other. I didn't realise I was born into a family of rabbits."

Salvatore laughed outright. "Oh, you do hate people having children, don't you, Fatuma! Your sisters are doing Alpha a great favour, not to mention that they're ensuring your family's genes will feature largely in future generations. And they're also letting the likes of you and me off the hook a little. Every kid they have is one less we have to produce."

"Hmm." Fatuma guffawed contemptuously. "Yeah, they're doing Alpha and the Family a great service, but that means sacrificing what makes them human: their individuality and intelligence. How can you be a free individual and expand your mind when you have half a dozen offspring demanding your attention? Duty is all very well, but it's not what makes us human. Animals on Earth were very good at the production and reproduction routine, too, but there should be more to human existence than survival."

"Humans are only animals too," said Salvatore. "And let's face it, survival is still the name of the game here. My father sometimes said that some aspects of human society had taken a giant leap backwards when it came to Loki. But it was a step back in order to take a greater step forward. Once this transitional phase is over, humanity will be able to seize this opportunity to build a new society while avoiding the mistakes of the past. Ultimately, our descendants will be better off than we are."

Fatuma was silent, staring at him for a moment, and then shook her head. "I can't tell you how many times I've heard that, Salvatore. I just didn't expect to hear it from you."

She looked sincerely disappointed and Salvatore felt a pang of guilt as he realised she was right. Here he was spewing out all that rubbish his generation subscribed to, looking Fatuma straight in the eye as if he really believed it. And as he examined his suddenly confused conscience, it occurred to Salvatore that he did really believe what he had said. Because now that his budding relationship with Hester was giving him hope for the future, he needed to believe that the future would indeed be better than the present. He wanted to know that his descendants would live happy lives because for the first time in his life, he was seriously considering the possibility of having descendants.

"I know," he said finally. "I understand how you feel, Fatuma... It's funny, I seem to remember having a similar conversation with Michael a few months ago. But... I guess things have changed."

"Yeah, you're horny for Miss Perfect Alphan and gearing up for the role of her husband. I know exactly what's happening. They've got to you, Salvatore. They weren't trying, but they got to you all the same. You'll be married and having kids before you know where you are. Mister Perfect Alphan, Y12 edition."

Salvatore was hurt to hear the bitterness in Fatuma's voice and tried instinctively to cheer her up. "At least I can't say I haven't been warned," he said good-naturedly. "You have my permission to tease me mercilessly on my wedding day if it ever comes."

To his relief, a shadow of a smile puckered Fatuma's dark lips. "So you are planning to marry her?"

"Oh, come on! I've barely snogged her. No, I'm not making wedding plans yet. You're the one who keeps saying I'm going end up married to her! Just give me a chance to work things out on my own. I'll let you know if I get assimilated," he said with a grin.

"If you get assimilated, you won't want to talk to me," said Fatuma seriously. "And the reverse will definitely be true."

Salvatore wondered if she was right. It was possible that by becoming more involved with Hester, he would drift away from his old life and friends, moving instead towards a more sedate Alphan life. On the other hand, it was also possible that Hester might adopt Salvatore's more dissolute lifestyle. But that sounded unlikely, and it also sounded like something Salvatore didn't want her to do.

"I'd better be off," said Fatuma, getting up.

Feeling somehow that this might be the last time he got an opportunity to do it, Salvatore walked over to her and kissed her. She leaned easily into his embrace, wrapping her thin brown arms around his neck until they parted. Unsure what to say, Salvatore stroked the side of her face.

"I suppose this is goodbye," said Fatuma softly, speaking the words that he was formulating in his own mind.

Salvatore was surprised to realise that it was indeed goodbye. He couldn't see himself continuing to sleep with Fatuma if he got involved with Hester. And if he wasn't sleeping with Fatuma, he didn't think they would have much of a relationship left. He felt a bittersweet pang of regret as another chapter of his life came to a close.

"I'll keep you posted on what happens with Hester," he said finally.

Fatuma grinned, uncovering her perfect white teeth. "Well, I'll say one thing for the woman. At least she got you to cut your hair!"

She ran her hand over Salvatore's shorn head. He had been to see Malcolm Travis that day and had been disappointed when Fatuma didn't comment on his new hairstyle as she came in. He returned her smile and escorted her to the door.

"By the way, it might be best if we took separate Eagles next week," she said before leaving. "I'd rather not spend too much time around you and Hester, if you catch my drift."

"That never bothered you in the past," he remarked.

She flashed another grin and then trotted out into the corridor. "People in love bore me."

Hester breathed in the scent of chemicals from her hairdo and tried to relax on the sofa in Malcolm's front room. Alpha's only resident hairstylist had convinced her to let him cut her hair and it was currently rolled up on curlers. He said this would give her a shoulder length set of ringlets, which sounded good.

Malcolm had actually suggested straightening Hester's hair and then cutting it in a bob; evidently his haircut of the season. But Hester usually had a loose perm done every few months, generally at the instigation of her mother, and she had grown accustomed to having curly hair. The idea of a straight Louise Brooks look didn't appeal to her.

Left to its own devices Hester's hair usually fell into indistinct waves in the stable, unchanging air-conditioning of Alpha. But she remembered that her one trip to Loki, in the humid early Autumn, had turned it into a frizzy mess. She wanted a hairstyle which could withstand the weather conditions on Loki. She also wanted to look her best for her date with Salvatore that night.

The door chime rang and Malcolm let in Claude Castellano and another half-caste woman. Hester felt her heart sink; the presence of other women having their hair done usually meant a major gossip session. Although she could have good conversations with individual people, Hester was very uncomfortable when there were more than a couple of people in a room, and particularly if one of them was someone she didn't know.

"Hello, my dear," said the stranger brightly, kissing Malcolm as she came in. "I brought along a helper to do my braids, as promised."

"Ah, that's much appreciated. Thanks for coming to help, Claude. We'll get the job done much faster this way."

"Plus I get someone to gossip with," added the woman.

"Oh, hello, Hester," said Claude. "Nthati, this is Hester Silberstein, one of the schoolteachers here. She's Jenna Silberstein's daughter. This is Nthati Iwu, one of the chemists out at Mare Frigoris. Melita Kelly's daughter."

Hester greeted them with a smile, though she didn't dare move too abruptly for fear of disturbing her curlers. She shook hands with the stranger and hoped the woman would repeat her name. It was so unfamiliar and complicated that Hester didn't catch it the first couple of times.

Malcolm made the arrangements for the woman's hairstyling by placing her on a low stool in front of the sofa. He and Claude sat down beside Hester on the sofa, so that the back of the woman's head was level with their eyes. In the course of these preparations, Hester heard the woman's name a couple more times, and repeated it phonetically to herself so she could use it with confidence -- En-TA-ty EEwoo, En-TA-ty EEwoo. Obviously an African name, but not one of the familiar Muslim ones which Hester was used to.

"I thought you were going to come with Fatuma, Nthati," said Malcolm conversationally as he and Claude worked to unplait Nthati's braids. "She's usually the one who volunteers for this sort of job."

"Claude was kind enough to fill in for her," explained Nthati. "I did call Fatuma, but she seemed upset about something. She said she didn't feel up to an evening of plaiting."

Malcolm seemed surprised. "It's unlike Fatuma to be upset about anything."

"I know, but she'd obviously been crying when Nthati called her," said Claude. "Maybe she's had an argument with that Ceresian boyfriend of hers."

Hester was also surprised by this piece of information. As Malcolm had said, it was very unlike Fatuma to get worked up about anything. Even as a child, when she and Hester were in school together, Fatuma could always be trusted to remain even-tempered regardless of the situation. It seemed unlikely that she would get so worked up about an argument with Tim. Hester wondered if something might have happened between her and Salvatore. She also wondered whether, if that was the case, she should be happy or sad.

"You're one of the people going on that trip next week, aren't you, Hester?" said Claude suddenly. "You'll be seeing a lot of Fatuma and Tim."

"I guess so," said Hester noncommittally.

Malcolm looked in her direction. "What trip is this?"

"Salvatore Verdeschi has organised a trip to Loki for a number of his friends," explained Claude before Hester could answer. "Aisha and Fatuma are going, as well as a few other people."

"Salvatore Verdeschi," said Nthati thoughtfully, though she winced as Malcolm unwittingly pulled her hair. "Ow. I remember him; I met him some years ago. We had a good time."

"A good time?" prompted Claude curiously.

Nthati smiled. "Well, you know. The sort of good time a woman can have with Sal Verdeschi. It was in 28 or 29. I was working on Ceres II in those days. Vladi and I had separated again and I was down in the dumps, so I went to the Grotto with some friends. Someone introduced me to Salvatore and said he could cheer me up. He did."

Nthati presumably didn't know that Hester was currently going out with Salvatore. The two Alphans seemed more aware of the situation, and exchanged an embarrassed look.

"I hear he has a lot to offer," said Malcolm guardedly, glancing at Hester.

"Yeah, about 20 centimetres for a start," said Nthati with a giggle. "But I remember him as a very nice guy; he was very shy at first, but quite amusing once he had relaxed. You'll have a good time, Esther."

Hester was amused to find she wasn't the only one with a blind spot where people's names were concerned. But she was also pondering the very first part of Nthati's speech.

"Time to comb out this mess," announced Malcolm once he and Claude had completely unravelled Nthati's myriad little braids. "Let's get your hair washed and trimmed, and then Claude and I can start plaiting."

"Oh, I hate this bit," groaned Nthati. "One of these days, I'm going to shave it all off so I don't have to unravel it all the time!"

Malcolm led Nthati into the bathroom, leaving Claude and Hester alone. Once they had left, Claude slid closer to Hester.

"Nthati isn't the most discreet person I know." She paused and then asked, "I'm sorry, but I've been hearing things recently. Are you going out with Sal Verdeschi?"

Hester nodded; they were certainly 'going out' by Alphan standards. Spending a lot of time together and exchanging the occasional romantic kiss.

"He's very young," started Claude. "Not in the age sense, but in the sense that I don't think he always knows what he wants."

"I wasn't aware you knew him that well," said Hester, keeping her eyes lowered.

She heard Claude laugh. "I know him as an observer. He used to be very keen on Aisha, but he also went out with Lucie and he has of course been having a relationship with Fatuma for the last two years. They're all women I know well, and I've had ample opportunity to see how he operates."

"I know he's had a lot of affairs..."

"I'm sure you do, and it isn't any of my business, is it?" said Claude gently. She had a deep, melodious voice which Hester found soothing despite the topic. "I'm... curious, if you like. I'm always interested in observing human behaviour and Salvatore is a fascinating young man in that respect. Not because of his Psychon blood, but because of the unusual things he does. I thought I'd got to a point where I could just about predict his behaviour, but he still manages to surprise me."

In spite of herself, Hester was interested to hear what Claude had to say. Any conversation which revolved around Salvatore was welcome as far as she was concerned. She always tried to curb her enthusiasm for him when she was with her mother, who certainly didn't share her interest in the young man. But if Claude wanted to talk about him, Hester wasn't about to stop her.

"How has he surprised you?" she asked.

"By going out with you," explained Claude. "He's been out with white girls before, but usually only for the sort of short relationship he had with Nthati. I would have said you weren't his type."

Hester shrugged but smiled. "Maybe I should be flattered."

"Yes, maybe you should. Maybe it's a sign he's sorting himself out and going for someone he really likes rather than someone he fancies," said Claude. "Do you really like him?"

"Yes, I do." Hester wondered if it was prudent to confess this to a near stranger like Claude. She only knew the woman because Claude was a good friend of Mary's.

"Well, let's hope he shares your feelings." Claude chuckled. "In the meantime, according to what our indiscreet friend Nthati said, it seems you have plenty to look forward to while you wait to find out."

Salvatore had just put the rice for the biriani on to boil when the door chime rang. He quickly checked that the vegetables were simmering satisfactorily on the other burner, and then wiped his hands on a towel before going to answer the door.

Hester was looking her usual lovely self when he let her in. Her curly dark hair was loose, falling to the level of her shoulders; Salvatore thought there was something a bit different about it, but couldn't quite decide what. His attention was soon distracted by the fact she was wearing the tight, shiny dress she had worn for his vernissage, as well as the tiniest hint of makeup on her mouth and eyelashes. Unable to resist, Salvatore kissed her lightly on the mouth before guiding her further into the room.

"You've arrived at a good time," he said. "Dinner will be about fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes?" she repeated, peering uncertainly into the kitchen area. For some reason, she seemed surprised; perhaps she had assumed they would eat later. Salvatore had a moment's misgiving and wondered if he should have prepared something simpler which could have been left in the oven for a while. In fact, the biriani itself would not have suffered from being left in the oven. Not that the oven could hold a large dish... Not that he could do anything about that now.

"It smells delicious," said Hester encouragingly, perhaps aware of his confusion.

Charmed by her kindness, Salvatore placed his hand on her back and stroked the slippery shining material. He could feel the warmth of Hester's skin radiating through the viscose and the sensation made him slightly dizzy. He kissed her again and felt a familiar tingle of arousal course through his body.

As he released her, Salvatore suddenly realised he was probably sending his usual good 'vibes' in her direction. The thought made him uncomfortable; he didn't like the idea of seducing Hester the way Dorzak had seduced his conquests. If she fell into his arms, he wanted it to be of her own free will and not because he radiated aphrodisiac waves when he was excited. He let go of Hester and hastily returned to the kitchen.

"I'm making us a biriani, an Indian dish," explained Salvatore as he turned down the heat under the boiling rice. "It's one of my favourites. I hope you'll like it. Do sit down; I'll bring you a drink."

"Indian?" repeated Hester as she sat down on the sofa. "I guess I expected you to do something Italian."

"It did occur to me," admitted Salvatore. He took a couple of bell peppers and expertly chopped them into cubes which he added to the other vegetables. "I didn't want to be too obvious, so I decided to make something else instead. Do you cook at all?"

"A bit," she answered. "I could probably make three square meals a day as long as you weren't looking for anything fancy."

Salvatore was worried about the progress of the vegetables. Taking a fork, he carefully picked up a few lentils and tasted them. They weren't cooked, which was only to be expected, but they had already started to soften. They tasted spicy and Salvatore licked his lips; he really hoped Hester would like it, because he certainly did. He shook out the fork and covered the vegetables again. As he turned back towards the living room, he was startled to find Hester leaning on the counter just beside him.

"Hi," he said automatically, and a little stupidly, he immediately realised. "I meant to ask you if you would like a drink. I have some white wine." He already knew that was her usual drink. "Why don't you go back to sit down?"

"Okay." Hester cast him an amused glance but obediently returned to the sofa; Salvatore indulged in a brief look at her shiny back as she walked.

He soon came to join her with their drinks, and cautiously settled some distance from her. "I downloaded a movie from the Library if you want to stay in and watch one," he suggested, pointing at the television.

"What movie is that?"

"Monty Python's Holy Grail," he said, observing Hester's reaction. "You said you enjoyed Blackadder, and you like history and British comedy, so I thought you'd like the Holy Grail. It's one of my favourite films."

"I've seen it once or twice as well." Hester smiled and leaned against the back of the sofa to face Salvatore. "I guess you're a specialist on the subject of the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow. What does a swallow look like anyway? It's a strange name for a bird."

"Yeah. They were little birds with very long tails, and apparently, you could use them to tell what the weather was going to be like. They flew low if it was going to be warm, and high if it was going to rain. Or maybe vice versa. Anyway, that doesn't matter now."

Salvatore noticed that Hester's cheeks dimpled when she smiled. Not little dimples near her mouth, but longer ones further away. He wondered what kind of arrangement of muscle tissue under her skin was producing this unusual effect. He then wondered what possessed him to wonder about Hester's muscle tissue when her skin was already enough to look at.

"Can I ask you something, Sal?"

"Of course."

"Why are you sitting way over there?"

Caught off-guard, Salvatore tried to think of a rational explanation. Something other than that he was afraid he might jump on her if he was any closer.

He finally decided that the truth would suffice. "I... I thought I'd spare you my Psychon vibes."

"Why?"

That was a good question. Unable to answer, Salvatore moved closer and put his arm around Hester. She leaned against him comfortably and he wondered if he should kiss her. One of the reasons he didn't want her to pick up his Psychon vibes was that he didn't want them to end up in his bedroom before they had a civilised dinner date together. He'd had sex before, but never a civilised dinner date.

"You look great with your hair cut like that," she said, one hand going up to stroke the short hair at the nape of his neck. "It's a bit like the hairstyle Steve McQueen had."

Salvatore decided not to reinforce her no doubt sufficiently accurate opinion of his ignorance by asking who the hell Steve McQueen was. Evidently someone who kept his hair short. He returned his thoughts to the problem of keeping his vibes in check.

On the other hand, he thought as he felt Hester's lips on his cheek, maybe he was trying too hard to be Mister Perfect Alphan, as Fatuma would say. There was nothing wrong with a bit of sex, and there was certainly no reason to treat Hester like an untouchable doll if that wasn't what she wanted. He kissed her, slowly at first and then more passionately as he felt her soft chest pressing against his. He knew she wasn't wearing a bra, since the dress was designed to support her bust -- this was a detail he had already noticed at the vernissage. It had filled his dreams ever since, and didn't fail to make him dizzy now.

Hester didn't seem to mind as Salvatore ran his hands flat over the soft shiny material of her dress. Her mouth left his lips to kiss his neck, on the smooth skin just beneath his beard line. She too was exploring his body, her hand smoothing and crumpling his shermeen shirt as it investigated his back and sides. Salvatore was so delighted that he gently pushed on Hester's shoulder; she willingly lay back on the sofa and even let out a vocal sigh as he lay beside her to kiss her again. He felt as if he was living in one of his dreams.

The spicy scent of the biriani ingredients broke into Salvatore's reverie as he remembered he was supposed to be entertaining Hester with a good meal and a movie. Not lying on top of her on the sofa.

"I'd better feed you before we go any further," he said with a smile, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That sounds like a good idea," she agreed. "It smells delicious."

They kissed again, though only briefly, and Salvatore stood up. His tread was uncertain as he walked into the kitchen area. He had no particular desire to eat right at that moment, but he knew he would be hungry later if he didn't, and it seemed a pity to waste a good meal, one which used rare spices, just because he couldn't keep his hormones in check. He was looking forward to giving them free rein later, though.

With a slightly less than civilised grin on his face, Salvatore checked the rice and vegetables. He was relieved to find that in spite of his inattention, neither had burned. He remembered his father complaining that the electric stoves in Alphan households were far inferior to the gas burners they had had on Earth; only the cafeteria on Alpha had had gas stoves, and those were retired after Breakaway, when natural gas could no longer be used. But Salvatore had never known anything but the slow, insensitive electric burners, and he knew exactly how to handle them.

Emptying the rice into a bowl, Salvatore poured the vegetables over it, mixing the two together to form the biriani. When he turned back to the dining table, he found Hester already sitting there, fork in hand.

"You look as if you're ready to be fed," he said with a chuckle, as he laid the dish on the table. He also fetched the bottle of white wine before sitting opposite Hester. He was tempted to sit beside her, but as he had already laid the table with two facing places, he thought it would look too suspicious if he suddenly changed things around. Anyway, it was best to be facing someone if you wanted to have a conversation during a meal.

He served Hester, but then something occurred to him. "Would you like to listen to some music while we're eating?" He stood up, ready to go and turn on the entertainment system.

"No, everything is fine." Hester placed her hand on his arm and indicated he should sit down again. "Don't worry. Everything is perfect."

Salvatore wondered what she thought he was worrying about, but he obediently sat down and started his meal.

"You are a fantastic cook. This is delicious," she said. "I love spicy food."

"Really?" Salvatore hadn't expected such enthusiasm. "Well, that's thanks to the recipe, not me. I mean, I didn't invent this, I just followed the instructions."

"So you're fantastic at following instructions," she said without missing a beat. "I'm still impressed."

Salvatore smiled and stared at her until he realised he probably didn't look too bright, ogling her with a goofy smile on his face. He returned to eating his food, but he was pleased nonetheless.

After dinner, Salvatore cleared up the plates and put them in the sink, ready for later dishwashing. There was a little biriani left, so he shovelled it into a container and put that in the cooling unit; it would make a good lunch for him some day. When he straightened up, he found that Hester was standing beside him. He took a look at her shiny dress, then at her pretty face, and then kissed her again. She eagerly returned the kiss, wrapping her bare arms around his body.

Inspired by her enthusiasm, Salvatore bent over to slip his arm behind Hester's knees. Supporting her back with his other arm, he swivelled his torso to sweep her off her feet. Hester shrieked with surprise and clung to his neck as he manoeuvred through the furniture which littered the path to the bedroom.

Lying with his cheek on Hester's stomach, Salvatore had a good view of her upper body sprawled on the bed. She had somehow ended up with her head leaning back over the end of the bed, so that from his perspective, she momentarily resembled a beheaded Greek statue. Salvatore admired the strange effect for a while and then lifted his head to see her face.

Her head was right back, upside down, her hair trailing to the floor, her eyes seemingly staring at nothing, with only the occasional blink to indicate that she was still alive. He wondered what was going through her mind.

"It wasn't that good, surely," he said finally.

Hester suddenly came to life, her laughter ringing out with delight as she struggled to get her head back on the bed. Salvatore swept her thick hair up as well, admiring the contrast between its loose dark curls and her milky white skin. It was obvious that Hester had never spent any length of time in the sun. The most Alpha's UV lamps had given her was a creamy tint, or maybe that was just a genetic trait inherited from her ancestors. Salvatore was always fascinated by the diversity of skin pigmentation among humans.

Hester's plucked eyebrows nearly joined as she frowned. Salvatore could tell they were plucked because the skin around them was suspiciously hairless, while the rest of her temples to her hairline was peppered with fine dark hairs.

"What do you mean, 'it wasn't that good'?" she queried.

"I... I don't think that came out right," he admitted. "You looked a bit tired out, but I didn't think we'd done that much to tire you."

"You didn't? What else were you planning to do to me?"

"Oh, lots of things. Anything you like, actually." He wondered if there was anything particular she would like, and whether she would actually tell him what it was. "I'm... I have quite a lot of experience and I know a few things that women usually like. Some of it can appear a bit strange to start off with, but I wouldn't do anything you're uncomfortable with..."

He realised he was automatically reciting the same speech he gave to all his new conquests, and interrupted himself.

"Strange things? Stranger than what we just did?" Hester seemed amused, and he got the feeling she wasn't the shrinking violet he had first imagined.

Salvatore decided to play things slowly and let her tell him what she knew. He had found that although the level of awareness of the more creative sides of sex was low on Alpha, it was by no means equally distributed.

"There are all sorts of possibilities," he said cautiously.

"Care to enumerate some?"

"I wouldn't like to frighten you off."

Hester laughed and stretched her arms above her head, revealing the rash of a razor blade in one underarm. The artifices women were expected to resort to in order to please men always amazed Salvatore. He kissed the sore rash, making Hester laugh again.

"I don't frighten easy," she said sensually, running her fingers through his short hair.

"Why do I get the feeling you know more about this than you let on?" he asked.

"I've read a lot and watched a few movies," she replied. "The bulletin boards can be quite informative, though mostly they just show how ignorant some of our fellow Alphans are."

"Yes... I've noticed that too." He shifted his position so that he was leaning over her and could look her straight in the eyes. "So you read those bulletin boards, do you?"

She lowered her eyes, evidently wishing she hadn't said anything. "I have visited them once or twice. I've read the stories people post there and sometimes wondered who wrote them."

"It's hard to imagine any of our Alphan colleagues actually writing those stories," he agreed.

The fact that Hester was a reader of the bulletin boards made Salvatore wonder what her pseudonym was, and whether he might have unwittingly corresponded with her in the past. He currently used the nickname 'Tom Jones', because it was probably the last name anyone would associate with him -- unless they thought he had something to do with an overweight Welsh crooner. He doubted anyone would think of Henry Fielding's novel; he had only watched about half the movie adaptation himself.

"Do you ever write stories for the board?" he asked.

Hester smiled. "Would I tell you if I did? Actually, I seem to spend most of my time getting mixed up in endless discussions. I know I'm not an expert, but some of the conversations get really interesting. A thread about homosexuality seemed to spring up out of nowhere recently, and it was strange to see what people said. Some of them weren't even aware that there were homosexuals on Alpha. They thought homosexuality was something we'd left behind with all the animals."

Salvatore put on a neutral expression, but he suddenly realised that he knew who Hester was on the bulletin boards. Her pseudonym was so obvious he was half surprised that he hadn't thought of it sooner. 'Annie Hall' had been writing short bribes of fiction and contributing to board discussions for as long as he could remember. She wasn't a frequent poster, but she reappeared whenever an interesting discussion came up. He wondered whether he should ask her to confirm what her nickname was, but then decided to wait until she volunteered the information herself.

"I must say, I'm surprised to find you so... I mean, you're not as innocent as I thought," he said.

Hester's brow wrinkled as she looked up at him. "I suppose you thought you were getting some near virgin who wouldn't know anything about sex?"

"Well, not quite. I have to say I'm delighted I was wrong. I knew you weren't very experienced, and I was afraid the extent of your knowledge would be as wide as your experience."

"That would be pretty narrow knowledge," she agreed. She pulled herself up on one elbow so that her face was level with Salvatore's. "What can I say? I read good books. There are plenty of novels on the Library shelves which will reveal all aspects of human sexuality provided you read between the lines... or just read the text. I learned more from Nabokov's Lolita than from the basic sex lessons in school."

"Oh yeah, those. Well, they're mainly designed to teach you not to get pregnant. If they told you sex was fun, the parents would probably complain that their ten-year-olds were being encouraged to hop into bed."

Hester's dimples reappeared as she smiled. "My mother sometimes thought that was the Education Board's aim anyway. She thought the dances and socials were to encourage us to view the opposite sex as potential spouses, not just friends or work colleagues. But my mother's view of the universe is so different from anything that applies to Alpha; I can tell some things just drive her crazy. Still, she was a good source of information on sex as well, back in the days when I was a teenager with little else on my mind."

Salvatore could not for the life of him imagine Hester ever being a teenager with little else on her mind. He wondered how such a shy young woman could have discussed sex with her mother. On the other hand, maybe she had a very close relationship with her mother and didn't feel shy around her. Observing her naked body sprawled on the bed, he reflected that her shyness seemed to have dissipated in his company as well.

"Hmm. So that's how you turned into such a sex pot, is it?" he said, stroking her shoulder.

"Do you think I'm a sex pot?" She seemed curious rather than offended. "I suppose you're someone who would know."

"Yes, well. Let's say I know a sex pot when I see one," he said with a grin. "Um, maybe I could have thought of a nicer way of putting that. 'Sex pot' doesn't really do you justice. You're just... a sexy lady."

"Good. I'd hate to think I was a disappointment."

"I don't think there's anything you could have done to be a disappointment," he said softly, kissing her mouth. "I love you too much for that."

Hester didn't say anything, but Salvatore's heart leapt into his throat. He couldn't believe he had just said that out of the blue. He wondered what her reaction would be. What if she was only in this for a fling, attracted by his usual charms and just wanting his usual services? Hester's expression was unreadable, but Salvatore tried desperately to read it.

She put her hand on his cheek and stroked his stripe. Her cheeks dimpled once again. Then she said something he had been longing to hear ever since he first slept with a woman.

"I love you too, Sal."

Hester opened her eyes again and stared up at the ceiling in disbelief when the sensations died down. She would have said she was too tired for more, but Salvatore seemed to instinctively know her body better than she did herself. Or maybe he was just trying his luck. Either way, this wasn't the kind of activity she had expected to enjoy at 6.30 in the morning.

"Oh wow, that was really great!" she murmured.

"I know," said Salvatore a little smugly as he got up off the floor and sat down on the bed beside her. "You told me that last night. And it's a well known fact that it's the best way to a woman's heart."

Hester laughed and sat up. "It's a nice way to start the day," she admitted.

"Yeah, so I gather. Didn't I mention I'm a cunning linguist?"

"Ooh that's bad."

"I'm glad you got that," he said with a sheepish grin. "Though seriously, I do speak English, Italian and a bit of Psychon, which is probably more than most Alphans can say!"

"Yes, I doubt many Alphans can speak Psychon," said Hester, charmed by his boyish jokes.

He kissed her cheek and kept kissing her until she felt back on the bed. Once they were lying down, though, his expression became more serious. He seemed about to say something, even opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead, he just closed his lips and looked at her. Captivated by his soft brown eyes, Hester silently observed him as well.

He was so young. That was the thought that came to mind as she watched him watching her. His skin was smooth and unblemished, his body perfectly lean and lightly muscled like a model from a Calvin Klein ad she once saw in one of her mother's magazines. His large, heavily-lashed eyes seemed to observe her with such innocent delight that Hester, by contrast, felt old and worldly. She reminded herself that she was only four years older than him, and by no means past her prime. But the feeling remained as she leaned up to kiss him.

"I should be off," she said reluctantly. "What time is it?"

"Ten to seven," he said, checking the clock on the bedside table. "You said you needed to get back to your parents' place by seven."

Hester yawned and rubbed her eyes. She saw streaks of black mascara on her hands and realised she hadn't removed her makeup the previous evening. She probably looked like a racoon.

"I'd better get washed and then I'll go," she said, getting off the bed and heading for Salvatore's tiny bathroom.

Having removed the mascara from her eyes and freshened up her general appearance, Hester came back into the bedroom and slipped on her dress. The material was cold against her skin and she had a sudden flashback to her brief evening with Michael. That had also ended with her having a wash in the bathroom, and then slipping on a cold evening dress in a room which was the clone of this one, only on the other side of the apartment.

But it was different this time. The man she had slept with this night was the man she loved. It was the morning after they had spent their first night together and although Hester hadn't slept very well on the narrow bed, she had derived unexpected enjoyment from listening to Salvatore's regular breathing and occasional snores. Watching over his sleep had made her feel so close to him.

"You're going to be cold, baby," he said. "Here, wear my jacket."

Hester remembered Michael making the same offer; she had refused it then, because she felt that anything she took from Michael would forge an unwanted link between them. But any link to Salvatore was welcome.

He reached into his cupboard and produced an unmarked apprentice's jacket and Hester allowed him to slip it on her. The zip strained against her bust; he couldn't do it up all the way.

"Hmm. Very sexy." He leaned over to kiss a little exposed viscose in the V the jacket formed on her chest. Salvatore then kissed Hester's mouth. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too," she responded, slipping her arms around his naked body. "I wish we could spend all day together."

"Me too." He sighed. "We'll have to meet up this evening and see if there are any bits we missed last night."

"Definitely. Maybe we can have lunch together as well."

"That sounds good too."

"I have to go," she said reluctantly.

"I know. I'm glad you had a good time."

"I had a great time." She wanted to say more, but she tried to think of a way to put it that wouldn't sound crude. "For what it's worth, I think you're God's gift to women."

"Absolutely," he agreed without missing a beat. "And just think; I'm all yours."

"Really?"

"Completely."

Hester had a feeling that there was more to the promise than simple banter. She knew that most of Salvatore's affairs must have overlapped with his relationship with Fatuma, so she assumed he had never set himself a high standard of fidelity. The idea that he might abandon this lifestyle for her was appealing. Hester hadn't been bothered by the thought of him having other affairs before, but now that she knew what she was getting -- a good man, an excellent cook, a wonderful lover -- she wasn't so sure she wanted to share him. He seemed to be offering her exclusivity and she realised that was exactly what she wanted.

"So you're all mine," she said seriously.

Salvatore's expression was also serious. "Yes. I... Fatuma and I broke up last night. I guess she didn't want to share me with you. And now I've spent some more time with you and..." He grinned. "Found out what dynamite you are in bed, I know I don't want anyone else either."

Sudden dread seized Hester as it occurred to her this might be the introduction to a proposal of marriage. That would be way too soon in her opinion. It was nice to know that they were both 'dynamite in bed', but Hester didn't think one night was enough of a basis to judge whether they were ready for marriage. Fortunately, Salvatore seemed to share her opinion.

"It's six past seven," he said without looking at the clock. "Aren't you supposed to be going somewhere? My mother will be up any minute now."

"Oh, yeah. I'd better go." Hester turned towards the door, but Salvatore stopped her.

"Just a minute. I'll get dressed and walk you to the travel tube."

He slipped on his paint-stained trousers and a thick tunic, and then the two of them came out of Salvatore's bedroom. Hester felt her heart sink when she saw Maya Verdeschi sitting on the sofa with a bowl of puffed rice and soya milk.

"Oh, good morning, Mrs Verdeschi," she said nervously, feeling like a small child caught stealing candied fruit.

"Good morning, Hester," said the Psychon with a pleasant smile.

Like all the first generation, Mrs Verdeschi was an old woman, with grey hair and a wrinkled face. Despite her bumpy eyebrows -- her most alien feature -- Hester knew that Mrs Verdeschi had been a beautiful woman in her youth, and aside from the wrinkles, her face and figure had changed little in old age. Hester envied the Psychon her grace and height, though she felt sorry for the woman's isolation among the human population. Salvatore never talked about Maya, but the little he had said and the little Hester had heard from other sources suggested that Mrs Verdeschi had had a hard life since the Alphans came to Loki.

And yet, it was fascinating to think that there was an alien living among the Alphans, someone from a completely different species, who had not grown up on Earth or Loki, but on a completely different planet which no longer existed. Hester was so used to Salvatore's appearance that she often forgot about his alien mother, and it was strange to be so suddenly confronted with the reminder, sitting on a sofa with a bowl of cereals in her hands.

"Are you having breakfast with us?" asked Mrs Verdeschi in the same unsurprised, polite tone.

"Hester has to go home and change," explained Salvatore, slipping his arm around Hester's shoulder and guiding her firmly towards the door.

"Oh. Well, maybe she can come to dinner later," said his mother. She put down her bowl and followed them to the door. "You'll have to tell me all about it, Salvatore."

"Yes, Maya, I promise," he said with a grin as he left the quarters with Hester.

"You call your mother 'Maya'?" asked Hester once the door had closed and they were walking down the corridor alone.

"Yeah, well. 'Maya', 'Mamma', it all sounded the same when I was a little boy."

Salvatore shrugged his shoulders and Hester realised he didn't want to pursue the topic. She tried to think of another subject of conversation, but yawned instead. She wasn't at her most productive at ten past seven in the morning.

"She's always been more like a big sister to me," volunteered Salvatore unexpectedly. There was a lengthy pause as they reached the main corridor, still largely empty at this time in the morning. Then Salvatore continued, "She had a lot of problems... mental problems around the time I was born. My father basically took care of both of us, so I never really thought of Maya as my mother. Not when I was a baby. She was better later, and then she was more like a mother for me, but I was used to calling her Maya by then."

Hester was surprised by this revelation and also touched that he had chosen her as its recipient. "I... I didn't know that," she said uncertainly.

"No, I never told anyone."

That put an end to the conversation, since they had reached the travel tube. There was one due in one minute, so Salvatore gave Hester a tender kiss.

"I'll see you for lunch, okay?"

"Yes. Lunch, dinner, anything you like," she agreed enthusiastically.

He paused and glanced up at the time left before the travel tube arrived. "I... ah, I think you should get to know my mother one of these days. I think you'll like her."

"Yes." Hester nodded and then grinned as something occurred to her. "You'll have to get to know mine too... but I don't think you'll like her."

She added mentally that it was highly unlikely Jenna would like him either. Hester already knew that Jenna was dubious about her affection for Salvatore. Jenna had also thoroughly disliked both Mary's boyfriend Nick, and Sarah's husband Kevin. She wasn't happy until both were out of the picture, although Nick was the only one she actually discouraged -- Kevin died before she had time to do the same to him. On the other hand, Hester was confident that Salvatore's good looks and charm would eventually win Jenna over. At that moment, Hester couldn't imagine that anyone could dislike such a perfect man as Salvatore.

Salvatore was already sitting at a table in the Cafeteria when Hester came to join him with her lunch tray. She was back in her uniform, with her hair tied up in a sober bun. The uniform strained against her large chest, flattening it and making her look fat, while the long tunic and wide trousers made her look shorter than she really was. The Alphan uniform had been designed for the tall skinny figures which were fashionable in the 1990s, not for a curvaceous little woman like Hester.

But her ungraceful appearance did nothing to quieten Salvatore's heart as he watched her sit down opposite him.

"How was your morning?" he asked.

"The usual," she said with a shrug. "I think the children are looking forward to me going. They'll have a different teacher whose patience to test."

"I don't get the impression you like teaching very much."

"I do. Sometimes. I like teaching in itself, communicating what I know to other people. I like opening the children's minds to new things. But on the other hand, I feel like I'm putting on a performance every day. Everyone is watching me -- the pupils, the parents, the other teachers -- and it's beginning to get me down. It takes three hours to prepare one hour of lessons, so I feel as if I have no time to myself."

"Maybe you should look for another job," suggested Salvatore innocently, philosophically pointing a forkful of salad at her.

"That's not easy to do," said Hester dubiously, poking at her cannelloni. "Teaching is a specialised job that not everyone can do. When she first started, my mother had this crazy idea that my father could teach some of her classes whenever she needed time off. It was a disaster; even if he knew the subject he was supposed to be teaching, he didn't have any idea how to teach. It's not a question of 'those who can't, teach', as people seem to think. You need good teachers if you want the pupils to learn. It isn't something you can just waltz into if you don't have the talent for it. So that means it's difficult for someone with my experience to leave the job, because there aren't that many people who can take over."

"Oh." Salvatore hadn't thought leaving her job would have such ramifications, though he did remember Hillary Kano complaining that she felt trapped in her occupation as well. "Surely you wanted to become a teacher at one point, didn't you?"

"What I wanted was to please my mother," she said with a wan smile. "When I started my training, I was thirteen and that was the only thought in my mind. My mother's dream was to have at least one of her daughters follow in her footsteps. Since she doesn't get on all that well with my other sisters, I was the lucky one who got chosen."

She ate some of her spinach cannelloni before adding, "I don't know what I'm complaining about, really. It's not a bad job, and as far as I know, I'm good at it. The kids seem to learn something. But I've been working at it non-stop for five years and I guess I'd like something to change. I think the holiday at Dover will do me lots of good. And being with you already makes me feel different."

Hester smiled and slid her hand onto Salvatore's. He was gratified to know that he was making her feel better about her life. "I'll make sure you enjoy your holiday. Dover is my home turf, after all," he reminded her.

She nodded and then stifled a yawn. "I'm sorry, I didn't sleep very well last night. I think that's why I'm so down this morning. The kids were miles ahead of me."

Salvatore thought about making the usual joke about 'Who is Miles?', since the second generation Alphans worked only on the metric system, but decided the joke was getting old.

"That bed of yours killed me," she said drowsily. "If we have to do that again, I'd like a double bed."

Salvatore laughed. "Only married people get quarters with double beds. Still, when my mother moves out, we could arrange something with the bed that's in Michael's old room. I mean, you could actually move in if you wanted to. I'll be needing a roommate or they won't let me keep the flat."

Hester seemed surprised by the suggestion and didn't answer. She lowered her eyes and thoughtfully rearranged the food on her plate.

"Too soon?" he said cautiously.

"A little."

She raised her eyes again and smiled at him tenderly. "We should take things easy. You know: get to know each other, give our relatives time to get over their shock, memorise each centimetre of each other's bodies. That sort of thing."

"Hmm. There are definitely a few centimetres I must have missed last night."

"Tsk. Don't be crude," she said, playfully slapping his hand. "You can memorise those later." She leaned her chin on one hand. "You'll never guess what my mother's first question was when I went home this morning."

"Um, 'Where were you last night'?"

"No, she already knew that." Hester paused and laughed. "She wanted to know if the rumours about you were true. If you really were such a good lover."

Salvatore swallowed hard; he wasn't sure he liked the sound of his girlfriend's mother asking about his prowess. He had a feeling he might sometimes find Hester's closeness to her mother embarrassing.

"So what did you say?" he asked neutrally.

"That it was none of her business," said Hester, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm damned if I'm going to discuss my sex life with my mother! It was okay when I didn't have one, but things are different now... I did kind of imply that whatever she might have heard is true. I don't want her thinking I'm missing out on anything."

Salvatore wasn't sure what to say about that, but he smiled at the idea that Hester wasn't missing out.

"When I think about it..." she said with a sigh. "God, I love you so much. You're handsome, intelligent, great in bed. What more could I want?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm also nineteen, immature and prone to depression. Not to mention only half human."

"That doesn't bother me. I mean, the Psychon part doesn't. As for the rest, well they're all things we can work on."

"You're right; I'm looking forward to being twenty, responsible and happy. But I wonder about the Psychon part," he said, looking her straight in the eyes. "I mean, what if we want to have children some day? There's the possibility that I might not be able to father children, because I'm a hybrid. And if we do have children, they won't be completely human. I know I did some pretty weird things as a child, and my parents sometimes got very upset because they didn't understand me. And I got upset because I wasn't understood."

"You think that if we had children, I wouldn't be able to handle the fact that they're not human?"

"I don't know, but it's something we'll have to consider. That and the fact we might not be able to have any without the rigmarole my parents went through. This is if we ever decide to have children... much later, obviously."

"Obviously," she said, widening her eyes in feigned relief. "I... I've certainly never considered the possibility of not having children once I found a partner. And obviously, I realise that having children that aren't... 'normal' is a big strain, not something to be undertaken lightly. I appreciate you raising the issue, but I'm not going to dump you now just because of it."

"That would be a bit premature," he agreed with a grin.

Hester squeezed his hand. "This whole conversation is a bit premature. I think you're a lot more mature than you give yourself credit for. Most men would have simply proposed this morning, without ever having a serious discussion about our respective plans."

"Like Michael?"

Hester sighed. "Well... Michael had other problems, poor guy. But no, we never discussed the possibility of living together or having children together before he proposed. We did have some conversations about family life in general, and I must have mentioned that I was hoping to marry and have children some day, but I wasn't dropping hints about him."

She paused and looked at Salvatore quizzically. "What about you? Have you thought about having children? I mean, obviously you have, or you wouldn't have brought it up. So scratch that question."

"No, it's a good question," he said thoughtfully. "I can't say it's been top of my mind. But knowing what a struggle it was for my parents to have me, I've always thought it would be my duty to have some... if I could. But you're right; it's a bit early to be thinking about that."

"Well, at least we've had the conversation for future reference," she said cheerfully. "We can worry about all that when we've got to know each other a bit better."

Salvatore returned her smile and then leaned over the table to kiss her, oblivious to anyone who might be watching. He wanted the whole of Alpha to know he loved Hester. Salvatore was determined to clean up his act and deserve this good woman. They would give themselves some time to know each other, perhaps move in together and then get married and have children. Salvatore would become just another Mister Perfect Alphan, but right now, that was all he wanted.