Both men nodded in a pathetic vestige of a bow, but neither made a move to 
shake hands, which was just as well—nowadays some amazing things could 
be transferred through skin-to-skin contact. Miranda didn't even nod back to 
them; she just sat down and let Carl scoot her in. She didn't like people who 
described themselves as privateers. It was just a pretentious word for a 
thete—someone who didn't have a tribe.