Ah! Verrent! They say it is one of the oldest stations still in existence - I can well believe it. I can see some of its hull from my window. The metal is dark and pitted, and mighty guns pierce its hide like the spines of a porcupine: remnants from the long-ago Delf Skirmishes, when they bombarded the very planet Verrent orbits.

  I have only left my home habitat once before - and that was to visit Rkha, the small dwarf planet nearby. Verrent was a far longer journey, and an unexpected one: in fact, I am still in the dark as to why I'm here. You see, a few weeks ago (that is, from my Habitat's time-standards: space travel confuses me greatly) I received a communication which asked for my presence as soon as possible, onboard this very station. I would have considered it fraud, if not for the fact that it had been sent directly from the Lady Silvestre herself - who is, of course, the governor of Verrent. The reasons for this sudden invitation were left undisclosed - but I am not one to turn down the opportunity of visiting somewhere new.

  I hope I will not bore you in saying that I am a astro-epidemiologist. I engage in the study of pathogens out-of-atmosphere, which I can assure you is more interesting than it seems! Suffice it to say for the moment that viral behaviour differs greatly in Habitats than it does on most planets, and that is what my research deals with. Why that is of interest to the higher echelons of society, I lack any idea: for presumably that is what I am wanted for, having no social status.

  Admittedly, I have been shown all due courtesy on my arrival. I reached Verrent in the midst of the night, and was met by a kindly fellow who showed me to my room - which feels fit for Begofe themself! The cynosure is a great four-poster, which was enough to make me forget all my worries. By its side sits a small table, on which someone has thoughtfully provided a book entitled 'Animalcules in a Vacuum': a piece of writing I have never had the pleasure of reading, and placed me deeply in my hostess' debt.

  I am too tired to read it now, sadly. My bed looks exceedingly comfortable; I shall retire. Perhaps tomorrow shall shed some light on my current circumstance!

  Well! It has, at that - at least partly. I rose from bed as soon as I saw the sun's light shine onto the wall opposite me, and washed and dressed quickly. I had planned to try and find my way to a communal area, which I was relatively certain I had passed yesterday. Thankfully, I was saved the possibility of getting lost by a knock on the door - the Lady Silvestre, I was told, was willing to receive me. The servant who gave me this news bade me follow him.

  My companion proved little-talkative, but I was grateful for him nonetheless: Verrent is a maze of corridors to the unwary, and we passed many corridors identical to the last. Each was no more than a metal tunnel, though they were disguised artfully. Carpets and hangings decorated them, and lent a musty scent to the air. I wondered, privately, whether the labyrinthine layout was another remnant from the old skirmishes, designed to confuse unwelcome boarders.

  It is no giant place, Verrent - it is minuscule compare to my home habitat. Yet it took us around ten minutes before we reached my hostess' quarters. These were at the end of a long corridor, and marked by a door that looked designed to withstand a battering ram. Through this my guide vanished quickly, presumably to announce me. After a moment I heard a call, and stepped through. The Lady Silvestre sat at a large desk opposite the door: and it was a bare room we were in, evidently for business.

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  Before my entry, I had little idea of what to expect. I do not, as a rule, feel disposed to liking aristocrats - but if all were as kindly this lady, my prejudices would quickly pass! Certainly, I was (pleasantly) shocked by her ebullience; she lept up to greet me, and before I could stutter out a few words was shaking me by the hand.

  'Doctor!' she cried warmly. 'I am so glad you could make it here at such short notice.'

  I was caught off-balance by this friendliness, and replied in turn.

  'I could hardly not, madame, when such a mysterious summons was presented at my door! Thank you very much for a warm welcome.'

  'You ought to thank my husband,' she said lightly, and bade me take a seat. 'I was responsible for your summons, but he for the manufacturing of the hospitality. It all goes over my head!'

  I laughed. 'It is the same on Herys' - meaning my own Habitat - 'with the aristocracy.'

  After a moment I realised who I was speaking to, and flushed. 'Meaning no offense.'

  Now it was her turn to laugh. 'None taken, doctor. I deal with so many bureaucrats that a bit of honesty here and there is most refreshing.'

  I smiled both externally and internally. I had forgotten how important it is to be on your guard around some of the upper-class: why, my old Dean would have had my head hanging on his mantelpiece if I'd said that to him. Thank Feren for having me deal with someone more liberal.

  'I will not keep you long,' she continued, more seriously. 'But I thought it best to talk with you before you break your fast. Incidentally, you will find the dining hall just down the corridor, if you look to the first door on your left. There will be eleven others with you - all here for the same reason.

  'I cannot tell you all now, but suffice it to say that we may - only may, mark you! - have need for your expertise. Soon, I hope, we will be holding council together: but we await one more for our number, a Naval Adjudicator.'

  I had been growing more confused throughout Lady Silvestre's statement, but I started at her last words. The Navy! That told me something for certain; it was a serious business going on here. The Navy does not get involved, from what I knew, in just anything - in fact, I don't think they had ever even set foot on my own habitat. Their Adjudicators are involved in all far-reaching decisions, but they are the stuff of myth and legend. I confess, the idea of meeting a member of that grand organisation thrilled me - and frightened me. For what would they be needed for?

  Evidently Lady Silvestre caught some of my thoughts, and she smiled knowingly.

  'Do not fear!' she said. 'It is more a formality than anything, and let us hope that it remains so. For the moment, concern yourself not with the future. Enjoy Verrent, and make friends with the others here! Most of them have been here for a little while now, and I am sure they will be willing to show you around. In the heart of the station lies a garden, which may be to your taste - but there is plenty to discover, if you have half a mind.'

  This I took to be a dismissal, so I rose and bowed deeply.

  'We will speak again soon,' she said. 'Good-bye!'

  So ended my conversation with the Lady Silvestre of Verrent. It had given me more questions than answers - but before I could set my mind to considering them, my stomach grumbled. It is wise, I feel, to listen to your stomach (particularly when it plays such an integral part in your body: I would be less inclined to listen to my coccyx), so I set out to the dining hall. Perhaps the people there could shed some light on our situation.