AS SHE STEPPED FROM the shuttle into the Guardians’ ship, Cariad experienced the same sensation of stepping into the future she’d had before. The sleek, spotless appearance of the interior of the Mistral and purity of its atmosphere made the place seem sterile. She wondered if the Guardians enjoyed living aboard their ship or if they missed the organic scents and untidiness of Earth.
She would have loved to ask them, but she’d never achieved the kind of casual friendliness with them that would allow such a question. Although the Guardians were always polite and civil, none of them had ever given the impression of wanting to be friends, not even Strongquist, who she’d spent the most time with. The Guardians also never talked about Earth unless they were directly asked, and they never spoke
