Dr. Roop told me on the shuttle to the station, “and you may get some attention from data collectors from various news outputs. I arranged that they wouldn’t find out when we’re getting in, so they won’t swarm you right away. Just be ready in case word has leaked.” I nodded, guessing that “data collectors” were something like reporters. If so, I hoped he had been as good at deceiving the media as he thought, since having to explain myself to the entire Confederation was just about the last thing I wanted to do. We sat in anticipatory silence. Once or twice I thought Nayana was looking at me, but when I checked, she was turning away. Did I even want her to be my friend? The warmest and most human thing she had ever done was secretly thank me for saving her, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak to me in public. Maybe Nayana was merely spoiled and confused. Maybe she would come around. Waiting for that to happen, however, seemed pathetic, though maybe less pathetic than spending the next year on a space station without friends.
