"That has got to be one of the dumbest movies I've ever seen," said Hester, shaking her head as she left the auditorium. She couldn't believe she had actually spent the last two hours having her intelligence insulted by Austin Powers and his puerile humour.

With the help of the Library, the Communications Centre organised a film showing in the auditorium every week. Since there was a finite number of films to show, they tended to be repeated often, but Hester had somehow managed to miss both the Austin Powers films on their previous showings. She had only gone to this one because Delores had promised to make sure that Salvatore came along. At least that part of the plan had worked.

Delores had made some feeble excuse to allow Hester and Salvatore to sit alone together. Hester had spent most of the time watching Salvatore's sharp features in the flickering screen light, but Salvatore, engrossed in the movie, didn't seem to pay much attention to her. There were a couple of times when Hester thought she caught him looking her way, but she now dismissed the idea as the wishful thinking of an old maid. Salvatore couldn't be interested in her, she thought; she was a dowdy little schoolteacher who was so shy she only seemed capable of random bursts of unselfconsciousness. She wasn't as glamorous and flamboyant as Fatuma.

After the movie, Salvatore offered to walk Hester home, though she got the impression this was mainly because Delores had yet again managed to abandon them without making it look too obvious.

"I gather you hadn't seen 'The Spy Who Shagged Me' before," said Salvatore noncommittally as they headed for the travel tube.

"No, and I wish I hadn't now," said Hester, too outraged by the movie to temper her judgement of it. "That kind of lavatory humour is disgusting, and not something which should be encouraged on Alpha. Not everything that was made on Earth is worth seeing."

Glancing at Salvatore's profile as they walked along the corridor, it suddenly occurred to Hester that she wasn't being very prudent. She knew Salvatore had laughed at a lot of the jokes in the film; he probably thought it was very funny. Not for the first time in her life, Hester wished she had kept her mouth shut. Her shyness usually made her tongue-tied and awkward, but she had found that once she relaxed and started speaking her mind, she tended to plant her foot straight into her mouth as soon as she opened it. It was no wonder she had so few friends.

"What did you think of it?" she asked, though she expected him to diplomatically agree with her. He was probably more thoughtful and polite than she was.

Salvatore grinned. "Well, we don't exactly see eye to eye. I think the movie is a lot better than you're making out, and there were some moments I genuinely enjoyed. There were some amusing references to other shows, and I appreciated the fact that it didn't take itself seriously. It was just a jolly, unpretentious romp. Anyway, you know I've been spending a lot of time with Fatuma these past few years, so I've grown to have an appreciation of Sixties kitch. Very cute girl, as well."

"Who? The Felicity character?" Hester half shrugged. "Yes, she was very pretty. Very big eyes."

"I think I quite like women whose eyes sort of droop down at the corners like that," said Salvatore thoughtfully. "Yours do too. It's very attractive."

Hester wasn't sure what she was supposed to answer. "Thank you" seemed the safest thing to say. At least she was relieved that he didn't seem offended by her censorious comments about the film.

They had reached the travel tube which led to the outer sections. There were quite a few other people around, patrons of the cinema or of the nearby cafeteria.

"Are you going straight home?" asked Salvatore.

"Well, I kind of promised to call on the Castellanos," said Hester without thinking. "It's Buffy's birthday, and since she's in my class, I thought it would be polite to go and see her. Jean-Paul invited me this afternoon."

Salvatore was silent for a moment, looking up at the indicator above the door. The next travel tube was due to arrive in 7 minutes.

"We must have just missed one," said Salvatore, smiling at Hester. "Typical, isn't it?"

All the seats in the travel tube reception area were already taken, so Salvatore indicated that they should walk back down the corridor to get away from the crowd. Looking around, Hester realised that she knew just about everyone by name, although none were particularly close friends who might want to talk to her. She hoped that no one knew Salvatore well enough to come over and talk to them either.

"I'll come over to the Castellanos' with you," said Salvatore as they both leaned against the plastic wall. "I'll be curious to see Fatuma actually interacting with children."

As he spoke, Hester felt her heart sink. He had asked her earlier if she was going straight home, a classic opener for a drink in the cafeteria or a walk in the biosphere. And like the complete dork she was, she just told him she wanted to go and wish Buffy Castellano a happy birthday! Hester felt like kicking herself.

She decided it would be too obvious if she suddenly changed her mind about going to Buffy's birthday party. She didn't want Salvatore to feel that she was throwing herself at him. In any case, Hester couldn't be sure that he had been preparing to invite her elsewhere; it was possible that he was simply enquiring about her plans out of general interest. At least he had offered to accompany her to the party. Hester wondered if she should take that as a good sign.

"You seem very thoughtful," said Salvatore.

Turning towards him, Hester found that Salvatore was facing her, leaning with his elbow against the wall. There was a polite smile on his full lips and his large brown eyes were observing her with a friendly expression. She reflected that when seen from the front, where his prominent nose was less noticeable, he was a remarkably handsome young man. Not that she found his profile unattractive.

"I..." She tried to think of something intelligent to say that wouldn't involve telling him how handsome he was. She lowered her eyes.

"I was thinking about the movie," she said finally. "Maybe you're right; I was too harsh. There were some good moments, but I found some of it so distasteful that it just spoiled it for me. Anything to do with that Scottish character for instance."

"That was pretty dire," agreed Salvatore. "But at least that American actor got the accent right. No Scotty-type rubbish there; he sounded exactly like the Scots comedian Billy Connolly. Our Dover Scotsman Ralph Buchanan showed us a video once." He paused and seemed to be observing an amorous couple opposite before looking at Hester again. "Um... Maybe you could tell me what sort of thing makes you laugh."

"I prefer comedy that revolves around good dialog," said Hester after a moment's reflection. "I mean, there were a couple of good lines in Austin Powers, but most of the humour was just gross. I prefer people like, I don't know, Woody Allen for instance. He's very cynical and I like that."

There was a silence before Salvatore replied. "Okay. This is where Salvatore the ignorant teenager comes into play. Can you tell me more about Woody Allen? Like... who he is?"

Hester laughed; it hadn't occurred to her that most Alphans wouldn't know who Woody Allen was. In fact, she was pretty sure a lot of them wouldn't know Austin Powers either. Films from Earth were often viewed as pretentious and irrelevant to Alphan life.

"I suppose the simplest way of putting it is that Woody Allen was a famous Jewish filmmaker from New York who made a lot of very different movies." Hester wondered if that was a good description, but it was the only one that came to mind at that point.

"And he was funny?" asked Salvatore with interest.

"Yes. Well, mostly," said Hester. "Some of his films were very serious, but I've found I like those too. I guess he and I have the same tastes... Artistically, I mean. His private life was something else. He ended up married to his stepdaughter, who was a good thirty years younger than him."

"His stepdaughter?" exclaimed Salvatore, visibly shocked.

"His wife's adoptive daughter from a previous marriage."

"Oh. That's funny, you know. Charlie Chaplin married a girl who was about forty years younger than him too. Maybe it's something funny people did on Earth. It probably makes Alan Carter feel better that he's in such illustrious company, despite what the gossips on Alpha might say."

Hester laughed. "I'm sure it does."

"Hey, travel tube!" Salvatore suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the door. "Let's get over there and grab a place before it's too full up."

The Castellano party was far more animated than Hester had expected. There was a great number of adults; Aisha and Jean-Paul had evidently invited all their in-laws as well as their children. Music was playing in the background while the guests mingled and played games with their children. It seemed to Hester that the children should have been in bed long ago, but they were probably getting special dispensation for the birthday party. She wondered if the Castellanos always put on such an extravagant display for their children's birthdays. Considering they had eight children, it seemed unlikely.

Although most of the adults greeted Hester with a smile, their eyes immediately drifted off her to observe Salvatore. He was evidently the last person anyone had expected to see there. Hester wasn't sure if she should introduce him or not. Before she could make up her mind, she was warmly embraced by Lucie Fujita, Jean-Paul's sister. Lucie had been one of Hester's classmates and proudly announced that she was expecting her third child. The idea of anyone actually wanting to reproduce with Akira Fujita had Hester puzzled, but Lucie had been obsessed with the little thin musician ever since her early teens, so from her point of view, it was probably a dream come true. Even if, according to Lucie, Akira rarely surfaced from his recording studio.

In any case, Hester was well used to women telling her about their pregnancies and children; by now, very few women in the second generation were childless. In fact, most of them seemed to produce a child like clockwork every one or two years. Hester was beginning to feel left out, even though her mother kept telling her that a woman didn't need children to be happy and that she had plenty of time to have some of her own.

By the time Hester had managed to tear herself away from Lucie's tales of motherhood, Salvatore was nowhere to be seen. Hester gave the birthday girl her best wishes and then noticed Salvatore in the kitchen area, with Aisha. Hester approached them and was welcomed with a pleased smile from Salvatore. He even held out his arm as if he was intending to embrace her, though he merely put his hand on her back when she reached him.

"This is a very elaborate party," said Hester to Aisha. "You and Jean-Paul must be exhausted after all the preparations."

Aisha did look exhausted. She was a young woman with chocolate-brown skin and black hair plaited into tiny braids on either side of a central parting. Her figure was full, but not overweight, with a well defined waist highlighted by the yellow viscose dress she was wearing. Hester always found it difficult to believe that Aisha was the mother of eight children; for some reason, she had assumed that the repeated cycle of childbirth and nursing would be somehow visible in the woman's appearance. But Aisha was always neat and well dressed. Not that the latter point was surprising, since Aisha's job was to make designs for the clothes manufacture.

Right now, though, Aisha's customary elegance was belied by her tired countenance. She rubbed one eye wearily and sighed.

"Jean-Paul did most of the preparations for the party," she said. "I have other reasons to be tired... Number nine is on its way."

"Number nine, number nine, number nine," repeated Salvatore, quoting from the Beatles track 'Revolution 9'. He didn't seem surprised and Hester assumed this was what they had been talking about before she joined them.

Aisha smiled wanly. "You can stop that right there, Sal. I've had to put up with the same quote from Fatuma and half a dozen other people today. I only found out for sure yesterday, and Jean-Paul thought this would be a good opportunity to let everyone know."

"Well, congratulations," said Hester, knowing that this was the expected response.

She found it very difficult to believe that Aisha was expecting a ninth child. It occurred to her that Aisha was still young, not even thirty yet, and that it was just possible that she might continue to have children this way until her mid-fifties. After all, Helena Koenig and Carolyn Devers had both given birth at an age when most women had already gone through the menopause. Hester tried to count how many children Aisha could have before her biological clock ran out, but the number was mind-boggling. Hester reflected that she herself found it hard enough to take care of twenty children at school a few hours a day; the idea of raising even half that number, day in day out, seemed amazing. And the idea of giving birth nine times even more so. Hester wasn't sure that she would be up to such a task herself, and she thought that the Castellanos must be either very brave or very irresponsible to undertake such an endeavour.

"I thought you weren't going to have any more children, Aisha," said Salvatore seriously.

"Yes, I was under that impression too," admitted Aisha. She lowered her eyes and automatically readjusted the neckline of her dress. "I was rather hoping Delphine would be the last. But you know how Jean-Paul gets... well, no you don't know. But he believes we should let Nature take its course, so that we can give Alpha a lot of children. Nature's course seems to agree with him that what Alpha needs is a maximum number of Ofori-Castellanos. I... I suppose I agree too. I just need to get used to the idea of going through that whole process again. I was congratulating myself recently on the fact that Delphine has just reached the end of the nappy stage. Still, it won't be a problem doing that again for Number Nine; Jean-Paul and I have plenty of experience."

It was obvious that Aisha was less than pleased with her pregnancy. This was an unusual attitude; most Alphan women were proud to be producing as many children as their other contemporaries. But perhaps Aisha, who had given birth to her first child at the age of 16, had a different perspective on things. Or maybe she was finding the concept of raising nine children as mind-boggling as Hester did.

"You thought eight children was enough," said Hester cautiously; she wanted to know what Aisha was thinking, but she didn't want to offend her by making some judgmental comment on her fertility.

"Yes... I felt I had made my contribution to Alpha's population already. But one more child won't be a problem. The difference between raising eight children or raising nine children isn't going to be that great. I wish this flat was bigger, though..." Aisha's black eyes scanned the room and came to rest on her husband who was talking to Kyoko Fujita. "But I can't complain. Nine children and a loving husband. What more could I want?"

"A life of your own, perhaps." Salvatore's sentence was a statement, not a question.

Aisha looked at Salvatore and smiled knowingly, though she said nothing. Hester had the feeling that Salvatore knew Aisha a lot better than she had first suspected. Aisha and Jean-Paul were well-known on Alpha, not only for their over-premature marriage, but also for their numerous progeny and the apparent facility with which they both continued to work while raising so many children. Jean-Paul was a frequent poster on the bulletin boards, and he always emphasised the virtues of family life and the advantages of marrying young and having a lot of children.

Their conversation was interrupted as Jean-Paul pushed through the crowd towards them. He was a reasonably handsome young man in his early thirties. He had inherited his Caribbean mother's soft black hair, but his skin was almost as light as his father's. His features were even and attractive, with bright black eyes and an easy smile. Hester remembered having a crush on him when she was much younger; contrary to what she had once told Salvatore, she had always preferred swarthy men to tall blondes like Alex Koenig.

"Where's my big birthday girl?" exclaimed Jean-Paul, embracing his wife. He looked slightly the worse for drink. "You should not be hiding in here, ma puce! Everyone wants to congratulate you."

"You didn't say it was your birthday, Aisha!" said Salvatore reproachfully.

"I was hoping no one would notice," said Aisha. "Buffy was born on my birthday nine years ago. My plan was just for us to have a party for her, but the next thing I knew, this one had invited the world and his wife to celebrate my birthday!"

Jean-Paul caught Hester's eye and half-shrugged. "I suppose I should have told you when I invited you. But the important thing is that you are both here." He kissed Aisha on the cheek. "Happy twenty-ninth, mon amour."

A little brown face appeared over the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. It belonged to a little girl about six years old with her hair brushed into two frizzy bunches on the top of her head.

"Papa, Mama," she chirped. "Emmanuel is being nasty to us. He's been pulling Natalie's hair!"

"I'll take care of it, Aisha," said Jean-Paul. "You just stay here and look after Number Nine. All right, Amina, where are they?"

Hester noticed that Salvatore's eyes followed Jean-Paul as he left. She did the same, and could just make out eight-year-old Emmanuel Castellano arguing with Natalie Devers. Most of the children in Hester's class were also at the party, all dressed in their best frocks and suits. Hester thought about commenting on the costumes, as she knew that Aisha had probably designed most of the children's clothes. But she was interrupted before she could make the compliment.

"I see you even have the Devers here," remarked Salvatore, his tone neutral.

"Jean-Paul certainly invited plenty of people," said Aisha with a smile. "Still, he's in that Aisha-is-made-of-porcelain mode that lasts about one month whenever I become pregnant, so I might as well make the most of it. Not that there's anything wrong with me except unbalanced hormones. It's not as if I'm expecting triplets like my sister Halima."

"Triplets?" exclaimed Hester.

"I didn't think those really happened," said Salvatore. "I mean, naturally. Did she have fertility drugs or something?"

This time, Aisha's smile was warm and tender. "Fertility drugs? Sounds as if someone has been reading up on human reproduction. As to Halima, it's all one hundred percent natural. Our family has a tendency to produce fraternal twins, like Ahmed and Azizi. My mother keeps telling me it's amazing I haven't had any twins myself, since both she and my grandmother had them. Anyway, what happened to Halima is that she conceived fraternal twins, and then one of the eggs split to form a set of identical twins as well. Apparently, that's how triplets usually get formed. Jean-Paul and I are thinking about going down to Dover to give Halima some moral support."

"That's a good idea," agreed Salvatore. "It's certainly the season to be going to Dover. It must be lovely down there."

"Have you ever been to Dover, Hester?" asked Aisha.

Hester nodded. "Yes, I did a month's tour of duty at the beginning of last fall. I was there at quite a busy time, actually." She looked at Salvatore. "It was when your father had a heart attack, Sal," she explained before turning back to Aisha. "Then there was a great hoopla about Duncan marrying your sister Halima, and then Kate Andrews died. I spent most of my time working on some kind of irrigation channel. Aside from that, I didn't get much of an impression of the place. I'd like to go back again, though."

"Oho, I think I have a plan hatching in my little head," said Salvatore with a sudden clap of his hands. "Fatuma has been having wild ideas about a holiday on the shores of Lake Bergman. I think I could get quite a big party to go. It would be worthwhile if we could get an Eagle to ourselves. The journey takes nearly a week now, and it's best if you're with friends. It's been a long time since I went back to Dover. I'd have to wait until I've finished the painting of course; that'll be another couple of months. What do you think, Hester?"

"It sounds like a good idea," she said automatically, though she was mentally thinking about the logistics of getting a "big party" down to Dover. She would have to get time off from her work as a teacher and she had a feeling she would need the two months' notice so that a replacement could be found. Trained teachers didn't sprout in grow boxes. But if Salvatore's plan went ahead, it would be something to look forward to.

Hester and Salvatore stayed for about one hour at the party. The guests were mainly married couples with children, and although Hester knew most of them as the parents of her pupils, she didn't often socialise with them and had little to say. Salvatore's presence also seemed to limit her options as far as conversation went. She tried to have a discussion with the Devers, whose daughter Hillary was in her class, but they were cold and aloof, and clearly not desirous to talk to Salvatore. The feeling was evidently mutual; Salvatore took the first opportunity to drag Hester off to talk to someone else.

When they left, Salvatore again offered to walk Hester home. The corridors of the Y10 section were as busy as always. The only way to escape the overpopulated family quarters on the base was to go for a walk in the corridors or the biosphere, so couples or individuals could be seen strolling all through the evening. Hester had always preferred to stay in her room rather than go 'walkabout', but her sister Sarah had occasionally managed to drag her out, and the corridor scene was familiar to her.

"Busy isn't it," said Salvatore, his voice barely above a whisper as they walked towards the Silbersteins' quarters. "Lots of people around."

"It's always like this," said Hester with a smile. She automatically ran her hand over the soft leaves of a shrub in one of the grow-boxes.

"Oh right. I haven't often been in this section in the evening. I suppose people in the old section tend to go to the biosphere, since it isn't far away. They don't seem to just mill around the corridors all evening. Mind you, the corridors are pretty bare bones over there. Not that I'm usually out and about at this time anyway."

"I suppose you're usually working on your painting," said Hester. "How is it coming along?"

"It's nearly finished. But it'll take a couple of months before it dries properly. What I need to do is keep an eye on the finished bits to make sure the paint doesn't shrink and leave gaps. That's what often happens when the paint dries. I usually leave my own paintings to dry facing the heat vent; there's less contraction that way. But obviously, I can't do much about the fresco. We can't turn up the heat in there: it would be a waste of energy. So my plan is to wait until the paint starts to dry and then fill in any cracks that might appear."

"That sounds like a good plan," said Hester.

She knew very little about painting, but she found Salvatore's exposé on the contraction of paints quite interesting. On the other hand, Hester was vaguely aware that she would have been happy to listen to Salvatore talk about anything, as long as he was talking to her.

On an intellectual level, Hester wondered why she was so attracted to him. It was true that Salvatore had a reputation as a ladies' man, although Fatuma was the only woman whom Hester knew for certain had slept with him. In any case, moral rectitude in his past life was not one of Hester's criteria for finding a partner. All she asked was that he be truthful with her if they became involved.

In her opinion, though she was aware it was hardly objective, Salvatore was very handsome. She could also tell that he was intelligent, and that was a reassuring thought; Hester would not have liked to find herself attracted to some dullard. The two of them had always managed to maintain an interesting conversation when they were together. That was another good sign. Hester's mother said that it was important for a couple to be able to sit together in a room and just have a conversation. Hester had always seen this as the key to her parents' success. They could debate for hours about Earth topics like the rise of Communism and the situation in the Middle-East in the late 1990s, and it was obvious that their debates were part of what made their relationship thrive.

The only thing that still bothered Hester about her attraction to Salvatore was that he was only nineteen. For all her past ambitions to marry at eighteen, Hester was uncomfortable with the fact the object of her desires was still a teenager. She was afraid that if they became involved and she fell in love with him, he would merely be experiencing a teenage crush, and would abandon her for a younger model as soon as one became available.

They were approaching the Silbersteins' quarters, and Hester felt disappointed at the thought that her evening with Salvatore was nearly over. She couldn't think of any excuse to prolong it, and she was doubtful it would be repeated any time soon.

"We're not far from your parents' place, are we?" said Salvatore, looking up at the section number on a commpost.

"No, it's just around this corner."

"Maybe... we could perhaps go for a walk. You know, a stroll like everyone else. Since that seems to be the tradition around here."

Hester stared at him for a moment. He returned her stare with a frank, unwavering gaze and Hester lowered her eyes, nodding mutely.

"So, which way should we go?" he asked. They had arrived at an intersection.

"I don't know. My sister always used to say that the outermost section was good, because there are some windows there. But it's not exactly a secret. There will be a lot of other people there."

"Okay, well, I suggest we start going this way and just see where we end up."

Hester already knew exactly where the corridor led -- to the outer section -- but she was flattered that Salvatore was so keen on her company. Since he wanted to continue talking to her, she decided to find a topic of conversation.

"I was surprised to see how depressed Aisha seems," she said.

Salvatore shook his head thoughtfully. "I'm not. She's been having second thoughts for a while. I suppose that after being married for fourteen years, she's having a crisis of faith."

"That's possible," agreed Hester. Her confidence was bolstered by Salvatore's desire to stay with her, and she felt very talkative all of a sudden. "My parents went through a bad patch a couple of years after I was born. My mother always said it was because when they married, they agreed they didn't want to have children. But then they came to Loki and everyone kept repeating that they should have children to perpetuate the human species. So they had the three of us, and Mama said it was a big change in their relationship. They were used to it just being the two of them, and now they had three little girls. They nearly broke up. But in the end, they patched things up and they've lived happily ever since."

It was evidently a habit of Salvatore's to think carefully before speaking; Hester thought it was a trait she should try to emulate. He was silent for a moment and then said, "My parents had their ups and downs too."

"Every couple does," said Hester. "I'm sure Aisha will get over her 'crisis of faith'. She and Jean-Paul have been happily married for fourteen years. They both love their children; there's no reason for this to become serious. Aisha is probably just getting over the surprise of expecting another child when she was hoping their family was complete. I don't think she's having any regrets about marrying Jean-Paul."

"She is," said Salvatore unhesitatingly. "She feels she has lost her youth, and in a way, she's right. At an age when our parents were only worrying about exams and light-hearted romances, she was having children and working hard. The same is true of most of our contemporaries. And like Aisha, the day may come when others look at their partners and realise that the person they married at 18 hasn't grown into the person they want at 30."

Hester knew that her mother would agree wholeheartedly with Salvatore; in fact, she had heard Jenna speculate that there might be a spate of divorces and separations as the thirty-something Alphans scrambled to find a more suitable partner before they reached middle age. But Hester found it difficult to accept that this theoretical backlash might apply to Jean-Paul and Aisha Castellano. They had always seemed to be the epitome of Alphan success, a model which Hester had secretly longed to emulate. On the other hand, maybe the eight, soon to be nine, children were taking their toll on the couple's relationship.

"Well, I'm sure not all couples will have that problem," she said hopefully. "It would be terrible for all their children..." As a teacher, she had already seen the effects that divorce could have on a child.

Salvatore smiled reassuringly. "Of course they won't all have problems. But some people might find themselves envying you, for instance."

"Envying me? Why?"

"Because you're still free and unattached. You don't have a husband or children. If you really wanted to, you could just drop what you're doing and move to Dover or Ceres II. You wouldn't have to worry about whether your husband can get a job there, or whether your children will miss all their friends. You can do anything you like."

"Well... I suppose that's one way of seeing it," admitted Hester. She looked down at her cuffed plastic shoes and frowned as she mentally formulated what she wanted to say. "Oh, I guess no one is ever really content. Aisha might envy me because she thinks I'm free, but I envy her because she isn't alone. Because she's doing what everyone else is doing. I'm not single by choice; I mean, I am in a way, because I always chose not to be interested in men. But I didn't think to myself 'Oh I mustn't get married before I'm twenty-five, or I might regret it'. I didn't get married because it never came up. And when it did, and it came from Michael, it was pretty obvious what the right answer was."

"Yes, I don't think marrying Michael would have been a good idea," said Salvatore with a grin.

"No, I guess not," said Hester, returning his smile. "I didn't know he was a homosexual, but I could tell there was something wrong."

"Well, you see, if you had only been eighteen, you might not have sensed that there was something strange about him, and you might have ended up married to him."

"Maybe. But I don't think I've acquired that much experience since I was 18. The only difference between me at 18 and me at 23 is five years."

"I'd say the difference between someone at 18 and someone at 23 is maturity. Some might have it at 14, but most people don't get it until much later. I'm still waiting for it myself," he added with a flash of his bright smile.

They had reached another intersection, Hester indicated they could go left rather than continue straight on. She knew there would be a lot of people at the windows, so she thought a stroll through the blind corridors would be more peaceful. It was good choice; there was no one in this particular section.

"So when are you planning on becoming mature, then?" she asked with a smile.

Salvatore shrugged his shoulders and seemed to give her teasing question serious thought. "I suppose it'll happen eventually. When I was fifteen, I had this idea that I would probably be married by now, because I thought I would magically turn into a sane, responsible person on my eighteenth birthday..." He grinned. "I didn't. I'm the same nutter I've always been."

Hester laughed. "I think I had the same idea. With some variations. I saw all the older girls getting married the minute they turned eighteen, and I seriously thought I would do the same. Even my sister Sarah did that. I had this idea that the ideal man would suddenly materialise in my life when I was seventeen, and I'd marry him the day after my eighteenth birthday." She shook her head. "I think I would have been miserable if I'd done that. On the other hand, the question never arose, so I guess we can't speculate on what my life might have been."

"Hmm, I suppose everyone has a desire to fit into the norm," said Salvatore. "In a way, I think there's too much focus on the age of eighteen. It's just a number, not a measure of a person's maturity or their ability to handle adult life. It's probable that more people can do it at 18 than at 16, but until recently, there was no sign that Jean-Paul and Aisha had done any worse than their contemporaries who married at 18. In fact, I would argue that if they had waited until they were both over 18, the result would probably have been the same."

"Except they would have had two extra years to consider it beforehand; they might have changed their minds," said Hester. Upon reflection, though, she doubted that Jean-Paul and Aisha would have changed their minds. Their attachment had always seemed very strong.

"Or they might not. My father always said 'You can legislate until you're blue in the face, but you can't stop people from making mistakes'. Still, what happens between Jean-Paul and Aisha is their business. Our business is to avoid making mistakes in our own lives. And that's a full time job already. Oh. Night time."

They both automatically looked around as the lights suddenly switched down one level. It was 2500 and the night cycle had just started.

"It's getting really late," said Hester reluctantly. "I'm not likely to turn into a pumpkin, but I'd better go back."

Salvatore grinned. "My mother will be wondering where I am, too."

"Oh, that's right, I'd forgotten your mother was staying with you. How is that working out?"

"We get on okay, but it's rather cramping my sex life."

Hester laughed and lowered her eyes. "Ah, your notorious sex life."

"Yes, that one."

"I suppose you're planning on pursuing it until you finally get this maturity you're waiting for."

"Oh, yes," said Salvatore with mock seriousness. He waved one hand philosophically. "Then I'll settle down and have a million kids, like everyone else. But I wouldn't like to impose my immaturity on any one woman at a time while I'm waiting to metamorphose into Mister Perfect Alphan."

"So you prefer to share out your immaturity among several women. Only women? The last time we spoke, you were wondering if you might be attracted to men as well." She remembered that Salvatore had seemed comfortable with this subject the night they were looking for Michael, so she assumed he wouldn't mind her bringing it up again. It was an aspect she found fascinating.

Salvatore scratched his chin dubiously. "I'm not so sure now. I think I'm better off not complicating things; it isn't as if there are that many potential male partners around. Not unless I move to Ceres II, that is."

They turned into another corridor and found themselves back on the main corridor which led to the outer section. They had come full circle. Hester's mood dampened again as they headed down the familiar corridor towards her parents' quarters. There were fewer people now that the lights were dimmed.

"You know, I'm not that much of a superstud," said Salvatore suddenly, slowing down. "I don't sleep with that many women. I don't want you to think I'm some kind of Don Juan gigolo."

Surprised, Hester slowed her pace to match his and looked up at him. "I don't think you are. It's just the reputation you have; I know that it isn't true."

"Well, some of it's true. I've probably had a lot more affairs than most of the types who married at 18. But then, that's not difficult... Anyway, I just thought I'd say that, so you'd know... This is it, isn't it?"

Hester looked at the door beside them; its frame bore the inscription "SAUL and JENNA SILBERSTEIN".

"Yeah, I guess this is it," she said with a sigh.

"We'll have to do this again some time. I mean, the talking part, because I'm not too struck on wandering around corridors. You still have to show me what kind of film makes you laugh."

"I suppose I do," she agreed. "... well, I'd better go in."

"Okay. I'll give you a call tomorrow. Maybe we can have lunch together."

She looked up at him hopefully and wondered if he would kiss her goodnight. Her heart beat madly as she watched him lean towards her. It wasn't until he was walking down the corridor that she lifted her hand to her cheek, automatically touching the spot where he had kissed her.

The travel tube whooshed quietly as it sped back towards the old section of Alpha. Sitting at the back of the nearly empty shuttle, Salvatore thought over the evening's events. Delores' plan to run for Commander was only a vague memory; all Salvatore's thoughts were full of Hester. It amazed him that he had never realised before what an enchanting young woman she was.

But he was wary of taking things too far. For one thing, she was Michael's former girlfriend. Even though it was clear that she and Mike had no future together, Salvatore didn't think it would be right to go out with Hester when she had only just split up with Michael the week before.

He was also afraid that Hester would turn out like his other lovers. Fatuma was the only woman Salvatore had ever slept with who treated him like a sentient being rather than some cheap Psychon sex toy. For all her demure manners, conversations with Hester always seemed to come back to sex, and although Salvatore was always happy to discuss this subject with any pretty girl who asked, he was on his guard.

Even if Hester's interest was sincere, and she was really looking for a romance rather than an affair, Salvatore didn't want to hurry things. He knew he was too young and immature for her, and his reputation would probably make things difficult if they got involved. Even if she didn't mind the rumours, there was little doubt that her family, friends and colleagues would be more concerned. Salvatore didn't want to hurt her.

He sighed and reflected that he was probably thinking too much. He would just have to see what happened. But as the travel tube whooshed on its way, Salvatore found himself hoping that Hester's intentions were honourable. She would be a nice girl to have a romance with.