“Keeps me sane,” Orcher jokes as Michael and I study the timeline. He points at a green circle hovering over today’s date. “The dot moves with the days. As we get closer we get to Belvun, it moves slower.”

I furrow my brow, confused. “Why’s that?”

“Each day on this trip, we add twelve minutes,” he says. “Six to noon, six to midnight. It’s meant to acclimate us to Belvish time. One day on Belvun is six hours longer than one day on Undil. Without the acclimation, your internal clock goes haywire.” He rubs his hands together and breathes a long sigh. “That’s why I like the return trip better: it becomes shorter overtime.”

“Is that what all the clocks are for?” Michael asks.

I follow his eyes to the digital display projected on the left wall, then see another clock projected on the back desk.

Orcher laughs and holds up his wrist. I didn’t notice the steel chain wrapped around it. It’s a silver watch.

“A man can never have too many clocks,” he says, “and it does me good, I think, to know that time is still passing.”

He scratches at his stubble, and then we get to business. Michael and I fill out a questionnaire meant to assess our familiarity with the fleet and responsibilities of our positions.

“By formal definition, you two are this year’s highest-ranked Recruits,” Orcher says. “That means you two get private rooms to accommodate your specific assignments. How about we take a look?”

He stands and motions at the door. We follow him out of the office and down the ramps, then exit the Bridge. The elevators are a short walk down the corridor. We ride one down to the floor below and step out. Floor 14: Drexel Sector Living Quarters shines on the wall opposite us. The hall stretches the entire length of the station, each door a private room. Orcher scans his ID at one of the rooms and taps an icon on the panel.

“Register your ID,” he says to Michael. “This is yours.”

Michael holds his ID up and the panel blinks white, unlocking the door. The first thing I notice is how spacious the room is, ten yards end-to-end and five yards across. A full-sized bed juts out from the wall facing the door, a set of dressers stands next to it, and projectors hang from the ceiling above a personal work space at the far end of the room.

“This room is specifically designed for an ambassador to use,” Orcher tells us. “Let me show Arman to his room, and then I’ll return to brief you on the treatise, Mr. Rafting.”