As she sat behind her desk, sipping a cup of coffee brewed from WestHem beans, she was dressed in a pair of brief tan shorts and a bright blue half-to... that showed off her cleavage, which was her most impressive feature. She was not a representative of the ruling class, for there was no ruling class on Mars. She was a high school teacher by trade, her subject political science. Her career in Martian politics had begun only seven years earlier, when she received notice that she had been selected. “Anna?” “Yes?” She was nearly sleeping. “Why did you not speak to me that first night on the terrace?” She pushed herself up on one elbow. The only light came from the glow of the alarm clock. I could not read the expression on her face, but I sensed a struggle. “I was frightened,” she said softly. I did not answer. I wanted to ask why, but words seemed unnecessary. “My attraction to you was instant, from the moment I saw you walk into the hotel. I spent the whole night and following day. More

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