I look into her eyes and know she doesn’t really understand. I make a note to add the vocabulary word ‘health’ to her language program. Then I say, “Now, I will change, and you take my uniform.”

Without hesitation, she moves toward me and begins unfastening my uniform at my collar. I expect her to do it faster now she knows how and that she knows I’m not going to hurt her. I’ve no idea what the farmers told her about me, but I know it couldn’t have been good as I heard the word ‘bad’ thrown around one too many times. It’s clear that I made the right choice in bringing her here, even if she doesn’t realize that yet.

When I’m completely naked, she looks up from the floor, crouching by my shoes, and asks, “Do you have other clothes?”

It takes me a minute, and then I realize she is trying to say the word ‘clothes’ I remember from before this word is very difficult for her, she cannot get the right tone. “I have other clothes in the wardrobe. Let me show you.”

I walk towards the wardrobe, and she follows with my uniform in her arms. “You can put that down while you do this.” Then I point to a light white set of pajamas, a loose tunic, and trousers. “These.”

She stands on her tiptoes, takes down the pajamas, and begins to help me into them, then suddenly stops. “Nothing under?”

“Nothing under,” I say. I find her demeanor satisfying. Already she is naturally falling into this role. Water people, especially Water women, are the new fashionable slaves of the galaxy, and now I see why.

Volunteer 4711 continues dressing me, and then I show her my slippers which she gently puts on my feet. Afterward, I remind her to take the pins off my uniform, she does, and then I tell her she can go.

She bows to me, as she ought to, and says, “Goodnight, Commander.”

I purposely wait a few seconds to make sure she knows she must stay until I release her. And she’s studied well because she waits without any questioning eyes. Finally, I say, “You may go, Volunteer 4711.”

She turns, leaves, and I get into bed.

However, just as I’m almost asleep, I receive an urgent message. I know that it’s not really urgent because it’s my best friend, and he always marks his communications as ‘urgent’ when it’s never urgent. He thinks it’s hilarious. I answer it anyway from the computer on my bedside table.

“Yes,” I say, looking into my friend’s thin blue eyes. “I was just about ready to go to sleep.”

“Is it true? You took a Water woman to your ship? You didn’t tell me this when we spoke earlier.”

“Yes,” I reply. “She saved my life when those pathetic farmers would have watched me die. She deserved to be saved from that squalor.”

“What’s a Water woman going to do on your ship?” he asks me as if I have brought a mythical animal onboard.