Tomorrow I’m going to meet my husband. How could this happen? I’m a contract wife—an ordinary Earth girl who yesterday knew only what’s taught in an astronomy course about space, and considered stories about aliens to be inventions of not quite adequate people. And no, I wasn’t kidnapped—I signed the contract myself, saving my life. Now I’m the wife of some humanoid whom I haven’t even seen in a photograph. I know little about my spouse: he’s a general of the space fleet, a hero—and that’s about it. In any case, soon I’ll be met by a new life and the skies of another world.