Waela’s Pandora-sensitized nostrils detected alcohol in Ferry’s drink. She put on her best impassive mask to conceal the recognition. The groundside uses of alcohol and tetrahydracannabinol in their various forms were generally accepted in Colony. But somehow she had not expected this shipside. With Ship to protect them . . . well, Shipmen had long held that alcohol was a risky and undesirable poison shipside. But then again, she knew that Ferry, like herself, had spent his early years Earthside. His reversion might not be all that unusual.

Still, Ferry’s actions interested her. If the fact of her impregnation outside Ship’s regular breeding program were taken seriously in certain circles . . . Well, why else would Ferry be using viewscreen shields? And alcohol! She did not want her life, nor her baby’s life, depending on someone who deliberately lowered his acuities.

Drinking, she thought. The word was dredged up out of her childhood and she had a bottomless-pit feeling about the hyb-plus-waking time which had passed since she had equated that word with alcohol.

The shielded screen bothered her. It was time someone invaded Ferry’s privacy, she thought.

“That drink smells like fresh mint. Could I taste it?”

“Yes . . . of course,”

It was not of course, but he offered her the glass. “Just a taste. It’s not the kind of thing a prospective mother should have.”

The glass was cold against her fingers. She sipped the drink and closed her eyes, recalling a scorched afternoon in Earthside summer when her mother had let her have a diluted mint julep with the grownups. The color of this drink was paler, but it was definitely bourbon with mint. She opened her eyes and saw Ferry’s gaze fixed on the glass.

Hungry for it, she saw. He’s nearly drooling.

“It’s quite good,” she said. “Where did you get it?”

He reached for the glass, but Waela handed it to Hali, who hesitated and looked at Ferry, then at Waela.

“Go ahead,” Waela said. “Everyone should have one sometime. I had my first when I was twelve.”

When Hali still hesitated, Ferry said, “Perhaps she shouldn’t, what with this strange illness going around. What if it’s catching?”

He treats it like a precious jewel, Waela thought. It must be hard to get.

She said: “If it’s that contagious, we’ve caught it. Go ahead, Hali.”

The younger woman sipped, swallowed and immediately bent her head in a fit of coughing, the glass thrust out for someone to take it.

Ferry grabbed it from her hand.

Eyes watering, Hali said: “That’s terrible!”

“It’s all in knowing what to expect,” Ferry said.

“And lots of practice,” Waela said. “You never told us where you got it. Not one of our lab alcohols, is it?”

Ferry placed the glass carefully on the deck beside his seat.

“It’s from Pandora.”

“Must be hard to get.”

“Don’t we have more important things to discuss?” Murdoch asked.