“I do not trust you with any breakables,” he says.

I can’t blame him.

In no time at all, the males from both fleets are in the dining room, and, of course, the other human woman enters the kitchen as it’s her job to taste all of her commander’s food. She gives me the side eye, but I still greet her. I figure, since we’re going to have to see each other, especially if the fleets are combined, we might as well be civil.

“I see they’ve put you to work cleaning.”

“I don’t mind,” I reply. I notice she’s wearing a different outfit today and is wearing makeup and jewelry again. “Were you allowed to bring that jewelry from Earth?” I ask.

“Only the ring,” she says, showing me a gold class ring with a red stone from her high school. “The rest my commander bought me.”

“Do females on the Home Planet wear jewelry like that?” I ask while I continue washing dishes.

“Haven’t you been?”

“Never to a city. I’ve only seen poor farmers and the crew here. I’ve never seen wealthy Silver females.”

“Don’t you have a computer in your valet’s quarters?”

“I do,” I reply. “But it’s limited to my language and cultural programs.”

“Oh,” she says. “Well, you are really missing out then. There are lots of dramas and things just like we have on Earth. And there you can see all the rich people and what they think is stylish and everything.”

“Do you watch a lot of dramas from the Home Planet?”

“Yes,” she says. “I’ve got a fair bit of time on my hands during the days.”

“Must be boring,” I muse.

“Better than doing slave labor,” she says. “Not working is a sign of my status.”

“I’m paid for my work,” I insist. I don’t need to mention that I just found this out.

“Not much, I bet,” she says and then changes the subject back to her life. “Thankfully, on my commander’s ship, there are lots of other females who also have a lot of free time during the day for me to socialize with.”

“Why is that?” I ask.

“Some are wives and other such companions for the crew. We watch the dramas together. That’s how I discovered them.” Then she looks around. “I’ve not seen many other females here. You must be lonely.”

“There are no females among the military, but there are a few female servants, including me. No wives that I’m aware of, but perhaps I just haven’t seen them as I don’t go to many areas of the ship.” I wash off a glass, and a thought occurs to me. “What about the females that aren’t wives or servants? What’s their purpose on the ship?”

“Oh, you know, I suspect the oldest profession known to man,” she says conspiratorially and then walks away to her task. I’m still at the dishwasher, and I continue to clean as glasses and then first course plates are brought in. I don’t stop washing until the breakables are clean. I have never questioned why there isn’t a machine for this task, but I suspect it has something to do with tradition.