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some of his family had come from Skolian colonies and some from a place on Earth called Japan. My name—Valdoria Skolia—was a different sort of mix. Although my maternal grandmother had been born in a genetics lab, her lineage went back to the Ruby Dynasty. My father and maternal grandfather came from rediscovered Skolian colonies.
           UNITS VERIFIED, Comtrace thought. RESPONDING TO BLACKSTONE.
           The Aristo’s features softened, making him look sixteen years old.
           “Too young,” Taas said. Comtrace aged the man about three years.
           “Still too young,” Helda said. Comtrace added another three years.
           “His hair was a little longer,” Helda said. Comtrace added a few inches.
           They studied the image. Finally Rex said, “Looks about right.” Taas and Helda nodded.
           “Comtrace, run an ID check on this image,” I said. “Compare it to every file available on the current Highton Aristo caste.”
           “Working.” After a pause Comtrace said, “No record exists that matches this image with sufficient accuracy to provide verifiable identification.”
           I frowned. “You checked every living Highton?”
           “Yes.”
           “Maybe we don’t have files on them all,” Taas said.
           “We thought we did,” I said. “There are only a few hundred Hightons.”
           “We maybe guessed the wrong caste,” Helda said.
           It might be possible. Although Hightons were uppermost among the Aristos, two other castes existed, enough to bring their number into several thousand. “Comtrace, what do you estimate is the probability this man is a Highton?”
           “Checking.”
           I glanced at Rex. “Something about that Aristo looks familiar. I can’t place it.”
           Rex nodded. “I thought so too.”
           When I glanced at Helda and Taas, they both shook their heads. “He has the look of a Highton,” Helda said. “That’s all I see.”
           “Run complete,” Comtrace said. “Based on your reports of his appearance, mannerisms, speech and retinue, I estimate a ninety-eight percent probability that the man is Highton. Based on your conversation with him, Primary Valdoria, I estimate eight percent.”
           Rex whistled. “That’s bizarre.”
           “That 8 percent depends on my memory of him,” I said. “Maybe it was skewed.”
           “Given your experiences,” Rex said, “I would hardly think you’d see him as less threatening.”
           Comtrace spoke. “My analysis includes correlation of your reports with previous reports the four of you have made on Aristos, the consistency of those reports with other peoples’ reports on the same Aristos, all reports made on Aristos by other officers, the consistency of those reports, and the consistency of your reports on other matters. Based on those calculations, I estimate ninety-one percent accuracy to your observations.”
           I smiled. “You’ve been busy.”
           “Can you figure out why the Aristo is here?” Taas asked.
           “I estimate a fifty percent probability he wants an unusual provider,” Comtrace said. “Thirty percent he is curious about Delos, nine percent he is spying on the Allieds, and six percent that his ship needed repairs.”
           “You think he was trying to trick me into going with him?” I asked.
           “Not likely. Your military status was obvious. To believe you would be deceived by such a trick would require a naiveté unlikely for an Aristo.”
           “What do you think is the chance he told the truth, that he just wanted a date with me?”
           “Essentially zero.” Comtrace paused. “If he is searching for providers, however, I calculate a ninety-three percent probability he was practicing on you.”
           It sounded