"Well, the colonists from Kyoto are Colonial Mennonites," Gretchen said. "They're pacifists. So it's only eighty-one possible idiotic teenage boy fight combinations."

"And yet still only two of us," I said. "I don't like the odds. And how did you know about the Kyoto folks, anyway?"

"When my father was still thinking he'd be running the colony, he made me read the reports on all the colonists and their original planets," Gretchen said. "He said I was going to be his aide-de-camp. Because, you know, that's really what I would have wanted to do with my time."

"Comes in handy, though," I said.

Gretchen pulled out her PDA, which was buzzing, and looked at the screen. "Speaking of which," she said, and showed me the screen. "Looks like Dad's calling."

"Go be aide de camp-y," I said.

Gretchen rolled her eyes. "Thanks. Want to get together for the departure? And then we can go have lunch. You'll have lost the bet by then. I'll get your dessert."

"Touch my dessert and you will die in horrible ways," I said. Gretchen laughed and left.

I pulled out my own PDA to see if there were messages from John or Jane; there was one from Jane telling me that Hickory and Dickory were looking for me about something. Well, they knew I was onboard, and they also knew how to reach me by PDA; it's not like I went anywhere without it. I thought about giving them a call but I figured they would find me sooner or later. I put the PDA away and looked up to find the sane boy standing in front of me.

"Hi," he said.

"Uh," I said, a testament to my smoothness.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that," he said.

"It's okay," I said, only a little flustered.

He stuck out his hand. "Enzo," he said. "And you're Zoë, I guess."

"I am," I said, taking his hand and shaking it.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," he said, and then seemed to realize he was back where he started. I smiled.

And then there was about, oh, 47 million seconds of awkward silence. It was only actually a second or two, but as Einstein could tell you, some events have a way of stretching out.

"Thanks for that," Enzo said, finally. "For stopping the fight, I mean."

"You're welcome," I said. "I'm glad you didn't mind we stepped in on what you were doing."

"Well, I wasn't doing a great job of it anyway," Enzo said. "Once Magdy gets himself worked up, it's hard to get him to back down."

"What was that all about anyway?" I asked.

"It's kind of stupid," Enzo said.

"That I know," I said, and then wondered if Enzo would take it the wrong way. He smiled. Score one for Enzo. "I mean what caused it."

"Magdy's pretty sarcastic, and he's also pretty loud," Enzo said. "He made some snide remark about what those other guys were wearing as they passed by. One of them got upset and they got into it."

"So you guys nearly had a brawl over fashion," I said.

"I told you it was stupid," Enzo said. "But you know how it is. You get worked up, it's kind of hard to think rationally."

"But you were thinking rationally," I said.

"That's my job," Enzo said. "Magdy gets us into trouble, I get us out of it."

"So you've known each other for a while," I said.

"He's been my best friend since we were little," Enzo said. "He's really not a jerk, honest. He just sometimes doesn't think about what he's doing."

"You look out for him," I said.

"It goes both ways," Enzo said. "I'm not much of a fighter. A lot of kids we knew would have taken advantage of that fact if they didn't know Magdy would have punched them in the head."

"Why aren't you much of a fighter?" I asked.

"I think you have to like to fight a little," Enzo said. Then he seemed to realize this was challenging his own masculinity a bit, and this would get him kicked out of the teenage male club. "Don't get me wrong. I can defend myself just fine without Magdy around. We're just a good team."

"You're the brains of the outfit," I suggested.

"That's possible," he allowed, and then seemed to figure out that I'd gotten him to make a whole bunch of statements about himself without getting to find out anything about me. "What about you and your friend? Who is the brains of that outfit?"

"I think Gretchen and I both hold our own pretty well in the brains department," I said.

"That's a little scary," Enzo said.

"It's not a bad thing to be a little intimidating," I said.

"Well, you have that down," Enzo said, with just the right amount of offhandedness. I tried very hard not to blush. "So, listen, Zoë—" Enzo began, and then looked over my shoulder. I saw his eyes get very wide.

"Let me guess," I said, to Enzo. "There are two very scary-looking aliens standing directly behind me."

"How did you know?" Enzo said, after a minute.

"Because what you're doing now is the usual response," I said. I glanced back at Hickory and Dickory. "Give me a minute," I said to them. They took a step back.

"You know them?" Enzo said.

"They're sort of my bodyguards," I said.

"You need bodyguards?" Enzo asked.

"It's a little complicated," I said.

"Now I know why you and your friend can both work on being the brains of the outfit," Enzo said.

"Don't worry," I said, and turned to Hickory and Dickory. "Guys, this is my new friend Enzo. Say hello."

"Hello," they said, in their deadly monotone.

"Uh," Enzo said.

"They're perfectly harmless unless they think you're a threat to me," I said.

"What happens then?" Enzo asked.

"I'm not really sure," I said. "But I think it would involve you being turned into a large number of very small cubes."

Enzo looked at me for a minute. "Don't take this the wrong way," he said. "But I'm a little afraid of you right now."

I smiled at this. "Don't be," I said, and I took his hand, which seemed to surprise him. "I want us to be friends."

There was an interesting play across Enzo's face: pleasure at the fact I'd taken his hand, and apprehension that if he showed too much pleasure at the fact, he'd be summarily cubed. It was very cute. He was very cute.

As if on cue, Hickory audibly shifted its weight.

I sighed. "I need to talk to Hickory and Dickory," I said, to Enzo. "Will you excuse me?"

"Sure," Enzo said, and took his hand out of mine.

"Will I see you later?" I asked.

"I hope so," Enzo said, and then got that look that said his brain was telling him he was being too enthusiastic. Shut up, stupid brain. Enthusiasm is a good thing. He backed off and went away. I watched him go a little.

Then I turned to Hickory and Dickory. "This had better be good," I said.

"Who was that?" Hickory asked.

"That was Enzo," I said. "Which I already told you. He's a boy. A cute one, too."

"Does he have impure intentions?" Hickory asked.

"What?" I said, slightly incredulous. "'Impure intentions'? Are you serious? No. I've only known him for about twenty minutes. Even for a teenage boy, that would be a pretty quick ramp-up."

"This is not what we have heard," Hickory said.

"From whom?" I asked.

"From Major Perry," Hickory said. "He said that he was once a teenage boy himself."

"Oh, God," I said. "Thank you so very much for the mental image of Dad as a teenage sack of hormones. That's the sort of image that takes therapy to get rid of."

"You have asked us to intercede for you with teenage boys before," Hickory said.

"That was a special case," I said. And it had been. Just before we left Huckleberry my parents had gone off on a planetary survey of Roanoke and I was given tacit permission to have a good-bye party for my friends, and Anil Rameesh had taken it upon himself to sneak into my bedroom and get naked, and upon discovery, to inform me that he was giving me his virginity as a good-bye gift. Well, he didn't put it that way; he was trying to avoid mentioning the whole "virginity" aspect of it at all.