Even at her still-tender age, just a few years past the threshold of 
womanhood, Nell had already had cause to be grateful for the presence of the 
droning chaperone pod that followed her everywhere when she ventured from home 
alone. Maturity had given her any number of features that would draw the 
attention of the opposite sex, and of women so inclined. Commentators rarely 
failed to mention her eyes, which were said to have a vaguely exotic 
appearance. There was nothing particularly unusual about their shape or size, 
and their color—a tweedy blend of green and light brown flecked with 
gold—did not make them stand out in a predominantly Anglo-Saxon culture. 
But Nell's eyes had an appearance of feral alertness that seized the attention 
of anyone who met her. Neo-Victorian society produced many young women who, 
though highly educated and well-read, were still blank slates at Nell's age. 
But Nell's eyes told a different story. When she had been presented to society 
a few months ago, along with several other External Propagation girls at Miss 
Matheson's Academy, she had not been the prettiest girl at the dance, and 
certainly not the best dressed or most socially prominent. She had
attracted a crowd of young men anyway. They did not do anything so obvious as 
mill around her; instead they tried to keep the distance between themselves and 
Nell below a certain maximum, so that wherever she went in the ballroom, the 
local density of young men in her area became unusually high.