Crepescule

by stormy_schematic (ao3)

Chapter 1

In the late and dying sunlight, Umber-3's City of Independents cast long shadows onto the Crepescule , an affini light cruiser. Night crept up its impossible size, its seeming weightlessness, its wriggling hull. In day, a terror; a wonder; a miracle. But cool, quiet, soundless evening brought all the planet's horizon into still harmony.

Blessed night came once again to the hab window on the starboard aft where Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom, lay scattered. Piles of green-orange moss hung haphazard across a dim, limp, ochre spheroid. Her core—the proud home of her heart, the conductor of her rhythms, the shining center of her many lives—buzzed and sputtered like sodium vapor. Thick ugly grafts traced a maybe-skeleton around her. The prehensile vines necessary to enact her will on this universe sat flaccid, frayed, and browned. Atop the pile lay a wooden mask—the product of some crude and careful hand.

A door slammed open. Bright lights cut into the dark.

"Honestly, Rosa..." chided a lanky affini, his vibrant greens glistening even in the low light. He knelt down, slowly and deliberately, and reached an arm down toward the pile. The mask shook—an instant later, tendrils lanced out toward it, grasping and propelling it first upwards, then around the kneeling affini's neck. With a crunch, the vines coiled inwards and squeezed violently. But the mask hung freely in the air on the vines' tip, golden light peering through the eyeholes, through the mouth, around it like a halo.

"Leave." Her voice was three voices, the pitches and timing all frenzied and wrong.

"I... I..." his voice was husky, pleading, then— snap ! The neck broke! The affini's head floated in midair, three eyes seeming to flicker, before... a second vine calmly reattached the "head" to his body again. He stood up and yawned.

"I never took you for the violent type, Rosa. Developed some new personality with this rebloom, have we?" he smirked, but... not cruelly.

The mask swayed drunkenly. "I have neither time, nor patience, nor energy to playfight with you. Please, let me sleep. Night has come."

He snorted. "'Night has come.' Yes, Rosa, and all things fall in subjection under the natural order of lesser-planet Umber-3. The dark slithers unabated in its courses... yet what is this?" He flicked a switch. "Light??? At night??? What grrrrrand heresy!!!" He twirled and posed gingerly. He laughed scoffingly with kind eyes. "Get your scraggles together, dearest friend. The captain wants to see you."

All the scattered moss and vines slithered toward the core, and the combined mass of Rosa's body reared up like a great serpent. "Hear me: I, am a Free Affini!" The air shook with her declaration. "I answer to no authority!" The mask might've seemed to be shuddering, if the low rumble of laughter didn't give her away. She spat guffaws at her companion in loud bursts: first like shouts; then screams;. then sobs; then—

Bernard Bramblewood, Fourth Bloom, wrapped his arms around his Rosa and hugged her tightly. The great serpent froze, then collapsed onto him. Slowly, she reformed. Lush mosses that jiggled and waved with every sob bloomed now with light blue twinkling flowers. They gathered around a delicate twig ribcage to form a soft drooping ball, then sprung out into the humanoid form of breasts, legs, belly, thighs, and two arms wrapped around her Bernard. Long-stemmed flowers reached up from her like whiskers, leaves gathering into a facsimile of clothes. Her mask, still golden glowing, pressed now into her friend's neck. She was, once again, an ocean of the softest touch. She sobbed heaving sobs.

"There, there..." Bernard said, patting her. "You scared me, you know? Cremated ashes are very acidic. I knew it would throw off your balance, and... make this so much harder."

"Sometimes it has to be hard, Bernard." Her voice twined in low, lilting music. The mask didn't change, but she spoke with a smile. "I did not expect to rebloom from it. I assumed myself tougher than that. But it had to be hard."

"Yes, yes... I understand." His hand crinkled against her leaves as he jiggled her belly. "I And reblooms can be a good thing!" He paused, then drooped slightly. "Sometimes... things need to end."

"She was so young, Bernard." The smile hovered in her voice, now flecked with tears.

"In our years, yes. In Rinan years? She was old when she met you, and still had a long and beautiful life with you, my Rosae."

"And she had a short and grotesque death," she sniffled. "Cremation, honestly. The ideas these sophonts get."

"She wanted to be with you."

"And now she is." Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom, patted her companion's back and leaned away. Her soft figure gleamed with dew—with tears. "Forever."

Bernard nodded. "In any case, now that you're up... the captain would really like to see you." He rolled his L's slyly. "It's not just to get you out of the hab, either!" He shook his vines. "Truly, truly. They need your help."

"Maybe I will believe that when next I bloom." By inches she deflated momentarily—then rose upright again and sighed. "But I can pretend to believe you."

Bernard chuckled. "Whatever works, whatever works." He smiled his thorny smile. "I missed you."

"I missed you too. I'm sorry for worrying you. Now." She reached down onto a shelf and raised a pair of round-lensed glasses to her mask. They slotted in perfectly. "My grief can wait. Let's not keep our towering autocrat waiting."

---

A dim, dense causeway led through rows of servers and hanging cables to the captain's chambers. This was, of course, entirely unnecessary. Affini technology did not require cramped spaces. It did not need dark corners. But just as each hab was suited to its owner’s taste, the captain had taken some liberty with her office’s set-dressing. So Rosa led, and Bernard followed, along the narrow way. At its end, two metal sliding doors ripped straight from some spartan Terran battleship creaked, then slid open. Ahead of the pair lay a desk, and a chair, back turned.

"Tell me, Rosa Rosae Thirdbloom: how do we know what we know?" The captain's voice crawled languidly around the room toward the pair.

Rosa sighed. "Well, Yotta-" Bernard elbowed her. "Well, Captain Rhizoma, we know what we can verify."

"Hmm. And how, Rosarosa ThirdBloooom, can we verify what we can verify?" The chair turned slowly, a tangle of clovers dancing toward them.

"Well, Captain Rhizoma, we can verify what we verify with the historical record." Rosa's mask tilted ever so slightly.

"But how!" With a start, the mass of clovers rose, roiling menacingly above the desk, nine huge beady eyes now fully focused on Rosa. "How can we record what we can record, Rosarosathirdbloooom!!" the captain screamed.

"With a stylus, Captain Rhizoma."

"AND WHERE!!!" boomed the mass as it spewed out toward Rosa, "WHERE, ROSAROSATHIRDBLOOM, IS MY STYLUS!!!!" The question left tense silence in its wake. Every molecule held still for an instant. Then, Rosa coughed.

"Behind your ear, Captain Rhizoma."

All nine of Yotta Rhizoma, Eighth Bloom's eyes blinked. A tendril of clovers sprang up to check the side of their head. "Ah," they sighed. "So it is."

At this, Bernard could hold back no longer, and fell to the floor retching with laughter. The true warmth of the captain's room returned as Yotta embraced Rosa tightly. "Welcome back my friend. Thank you for indulging me my little games."

"Reading too much 20th century Terran philosophy again, Yotta?" Rosa chuckled and squeezed tighter. Clovers and mosses petted each other gently.

"Well if the rinan stuff was any good, I would've moved on, my girl! But it's all so straightforward and..." black eyes fluttered as the two pulled away. "...optimistic. Even during Terran rule. Whereas there's just so much paaathos in the Terran stuff, it's quite cute, if a touch regrettable." They frowned. "If we had been there sooner, we could have spared them much trouble."

Rosa nodded, seating herself on a nearby couch. "And yet, the Terran domestication campaign has been all the more interesting for it, no?"

"Interesting," Bernard groaned, finally up from the floor, regaining his graceful posture. "Interesting means busy, and busy means patients. I've only been lead biophysician and xenoveterinarian for, what, ten years? I barely know where the matter separators are!" He groaned and twirled. "It's been Terrans, Terrans, Terrans all the time. I can still barely tell them apart, and I've had no time to organize. "

It was Yotta's turn to laugh. "Don't pretend you haven't enjoyed it, Bernard. You took a Terran name, you took a Terran floret. For a time you even had a Terran assistant! Up until she..." Yotta's booming rhythms finally caught themselves, stopping short. Some of the room's cold returned. They turned to Rosa. "I haven't yet said so, and I know you know so, so I might not even need to, but... I'm so sorry for your loss, Rosa dear."

Rosa's mask hung low. "Thank you, Yotta."

"It... gets easier." Yotta kneeled down by the couch. "But your first floret is the hardest. Nobody blames you for taking some time."

"Yes, I know," Rosa sighed. "Thank you."

"Well I do happen to blame her." Bernard lilted down to the couch with his two friends. "Three days without driving my distinguished and brilliant friend to frothing mayhem?"

"There was mayhem, I'll tell you." Rosa stared down at her arms, thick brown branches still gathering moss. "I still don't feel quite myself yet."

"Well." Yotta patted Rosa and smiled. "You will."

"I will," she nodded. "In any case... what business is there for us today?"

"I will tell you. However!" Yotta's voice resumed its authoritative boom. "You will have to permit me the Crepescule Captain's privilege of telling you things you already know at great length without interruption." They returned to their desk, clovers trailing in the air.

"Of course, Captain Rhizoma." Bernard sidled up beside Rosa on the couch and crossed his legs, resting one bright green branch on Rosa's thighs. He smiled knowingly, then tensed his face in a mockery of serious consideration. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Now. The Umber system bears only one xenostandard-habitable planet and a true mess of outer planetoids. The asteroid cloud lies at a scale beyond almost anything else in our galaxies: many millions upon many millions, from the tiniest pebble to the craggiest peak. Can you imagine the carnage? Dense, rocky supergiants tearing each other to bits long before affini civilization had left the core worlds?? The big mess remains a great and joyful challenge. It isn't safe to jump into—and even if it were, our spacial geologists would have my hair for disturbing the orbital lattices they've settled into. Beyond this humble and thriving planet in the Affini Compact lies a great cloud of unknowns, which wouldn't be a problem IF..." they paused dramatically. "...it were totally uninhabited."

They continued with gusto as Bernard bounced their leg against Rosa. "We have almost all the human population of Umber-3 either under our vines or, for some dirt-worn reason, living 'happily' as independents. But even now—ten years after we took this planet during the, ahem, 'War' of Terran Domestication—there are still so-called Free Terrans hiding out among the asteroids and planetesimals. Despite our commitment to rescuing the poor creatures from whatever dirt-awful cubes they've been eating, work is slow. Picking through cubic light-hours with subluminal shuttles is taxing and unrewarding, particularly when," they paused a beat, three of nine eyes briefly glancing down at their desk, "there are so many delightful florets to look after." Rosa ignored the pause and nodded, while Bernard rolled his eyes.

"That is, until today. Earlier today, an unshielded beacon from sector B, quadrant 3, subregion X..." they trailed off, "or was it sector C, quadrant 2, subregion... in any case!!" They cleared their throat. "Earlier today our scans detected a sudden anomaly in the cosmic background radiation. We jumped a cargo shuttle to the nearest safe pocket, and a few hours ago our welcome team made contact with three antique terran battleships."

For the first time today, Rosa encountered something she didn't know. "How in the stars did they get embed themselves without disturbing the lattice? Did they have tugs moving behind them, resetting what they displaced? Normally terrans would never bother with an astrogeologist, but Umbran humans valued their well-rounded technicians, so it's not outside the realm of poss-" A cleared throat and a pleading look later, Rosa relented. "Excuse me, captain. Please continue."

"Yes, you're welcome" Yotta sniffed. "In any event. The shuttle is currently gathering up the rebels, most of whom seem relieved to see us. Two small ships worth. The third ship," their voice lost its pompous tone, and Yotta spoke plainly, "has only a few dead Terrans and a missing escape pod."

"It jumped out," Rosa mumbled quietly. This time, Yotta and Bernard turned to her expectantly. At the heart of the matter lay no need to continue the game. "The mean free path for straight-line flight in the cloud is only ten minutes or so. An escape pod in non-hypermetric flight would easily have made a mess of the orbital lattice such that we would need to be speaking about the matter. But if they jumped—and lived—they could be anywhere."

Bernard moaned. "This isn't going to be another Elettarium incident, is it? That took forever to resolve, and the poor sophonts got so lost!"

"Thankfully, no," Yotta smiled. "You're right, of course, Rosa, it did jump. And by some miracle, it did not tunnel into some major asteroid. Scans indicate our escape pod is floating by the near edge of the asteroid field, a short hour's subluminal flight from here. Blooms willing, the pilot is still alive. And so, Rosa..." Yotta drew air across their rippling flowers, "...Rosae, I'd like you to rendezvous with the pod."

Rosa bristled in protest. "I would like you to send someone else."

"Rosa..." Bernard raised a hand to comfort her.

She shook it off. "I am affini. I hold great care for responsibility toward these creatures. However, I am a scholar. Not a doctor, or a therapist, or a technician, or a pilot, an adventurer or a stars-damned welcome party!" The room's air chilled—warmed only by the small, sad glances of her companions. She took the silence, then admitted: "...and, I may be up off my roots, but I'm not ready to see another sophont right now. Especially a possibly dead one." Her mask tilted down to the floor. "Please. By the Everbloom. I'm not ready."

"I'd like you to try," Yotta said softly. "Our welcome team got excited and are now all out with the shuttle barge. I am only asking you to pilot a shuttle, grab the pod, bring it here, open it in atmosphere, and let Bernard handle the rest."

Rosa bled furious tears. "Is that an order, Captain?"

Bernard laid an arm across her shoulders while Yotta spoke: "You know we don't have those here.” They leaned against her, then stood. The three figures waved in the still air. “The situation on the third ship is strange. We need a mind like yours on it. I want you to have chances to heal. So if it eases your heart to hear, then: yes, it's an order."

The dew scattered from Rosa as she shook silently. Then, she stood. Her mask remained unchanged. From the resonant song of her core radiated a wan, determined rhythm. "Thank you, Yotta. Thank you both. I'll head to the bay now."

All rose; all embraced. The antique doors closed Bernard and Rosa as they left. The dark began to gather.

Yotta sighed. "So! How'd you like my performance?"

A tinny voice rang up from beneath their desk. "Oh you were sooooo compelling Mx Rhizoma! I just looooved it when you made me hide your stylus and then pretended like you knew dirt, frost, or rinan nail clippings about Terran epistemology!"

Yotta snorted. "Now why on earth do I keep such a nasty-mouthed footrest like you around, hmm?"

The voice snorted in turn. "Because i looooove talking back to you almost as much as you looooove punishing me for i- glk !" The voice stopped short with a wet cry.

"That's right, pet, because I'm the Captain. Now make yourself useful and keep these in your mouth, would you?"

"Yersh, Mx. Rhuzomu..."

And now, in the late evening, moans of pleasure wafted lazily around the darkened office of Yotta Rhizoma, Eighth Bloom.

Chapter 2

Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom—chief ethicist of three cotyledon programs, architect of the Human Domestication Treaty, assistant clerk for the Grand Interbureau Scheme for Quadruplication of Records, author of legal dramas famed for their wit and accuracy, lead researcher and passionate lovemaker of the Affini Compact Bureaucratic Database, brave and tireless apologist of Affini culture and values, beloved teacher of countless first-blooms, and above all a young scholar renowned across the galaxies—drooped in her pilot’s chair and remembered her floret.

Stemphanie Rosae, First Floret. Stemmie. Stem-stem. Rinan rocket technician and test subject. The first creature to capture her heart. The first to break it so badly.

How quiet the evening and how still the air when a Rinan burst from hyperspace into the flight path of the Crepescule . How the ship braked! How the florets tumbled laughing through air! Rinan relentless/reckless exuberance led more than a few rockets to fall accidentally in affini laps. But this rocket was special.

Older Rinans often served as lead engineers and teachers, leaving the only-scarcely-more-hyperactive young’uns to blast themselves through spacetime. Stemphanie refused; if she was going to make it go somewhere, it would take her there. Thus did she enter the Crepescule airspace, then the Crepescule itself, and fall smack-dab into the life of the designated xenotranslator and Affini cultural liaison.

Whatever wonders Rosa shared of Affini society and technology, Stemphanie would scoff. She would talk down to Rosa—to a powerful precursor hundreds of years her senior—as if she were an upstart student! It was impossible not to humor her. The domestication paperwork stretched over a thousand pages of footnotes and appendices. But no amount of paperwork could impress Stemphanie, ever the tinkerer and experimentalist. This very shuttle was one of her projects. Bits of her remained here: patchwork fixes, idiosyncratic manifolds, and flawless interface designed especially for her beloved owner.

Stemphanie’s domestication didn’t snuff her stubborn charm. How could it? Rosa loved her pet too deeply as she was. The furry hag would totter over to Rosa and interrogate her: “I just can’t find my darned glasses, and I checked and they’re not on my forehead, so don’t you dare try to tell me they’re on my forehead you raucous weed, don’t try to trick an old woman with your wiley plant-magics, hey, what are you doing? oh, they were on my forehead all along, were they? hmph. I can hardly be expected to keep track of these things. Shouldn’t that be your job, missy?”

Bernard had been right—Stemphanie did live a long time. Even without the reckless spacefaring, she would’ve died a natural Rinan death in roughly five years. Rosa’s guidance and Affini medical technology helped Stemphanie live on for eighty-five more years as the spry, sanctimonious engineer she always was. The gift of life never escaped her. In her less curmudgeonly moments, she would cry grateful tears in Rosa’s moss about how beautiful it was, in her twilight years, to grow; to change ; to try new things ; to live bravely as something new ; to learn the joys of submission and intimacy and xenodrugs and post-scarcity and non-destructive exotic matter drives and the love of her nerdy plant-mistress to guide her through it all.

A sweetly storybook domestication. And now, also, a painful loss.

Affini medical science can stave off death, but when a species is wired to die, it will. Rosa could have compelled Stemphanie to agree to digitization. Stemphanie would’ve even accepted. Stemmi would have loved Rosa for making her agree to digitization (after the chance to moan and complain about it). But Stemphanie, at her core, didn’t want to live forever. She had lived a beautiful life, and now wanted to die and be dead. She wanted to be cremated — burned! these sophonts and their ideas! — and incorporated into Rosa’s body. So she could keep changing, keep growing with Rosa’s body, forever.

No philosophy, no text, no work, no worldview, no thinker, no movement, no ideology, no canon, no history written in all the millenia could have prepared Rosa for such a change. But Rosa took a final lesson from her beloved pet, and accepted something new. Shortly after she took on the ashes, Rosa broke down and, days later, rebloomed.

Now, after the grand and dramatic gesture, Rosa was spending precious time with her new body running errands for the Captain. Bringing stray pets to their “forever home.” What was forever anymore? Rosa, wailing quietly, shook the dew from her moss as the escape pod entered visual range.

Small. Antique. Scorched and… retrofitted? Curious. Perhaps the unusual accuracy of the pod’s jump lay in those modifications. Accurate for Terrans, anyway. But why carefully modify something used for a spur-of-the-moment escape? What happened in that third ship? Rosa shook her head, her glasses clinking against her mask. She had to focus on the sophont. The details could wait.

The Affini shuttle easily matched pace with the pod. Long tendrils of biotech vines sprang from the hull and gently swaddled it. Rosa, never quite the public speaker, sent a transmission over the wires:

“Hello, cute and wayward sophont. This is Rosa Rosae, S-… Third Bloom of the Affini Compact. I imagine you may have questions, and some of those questions might even be good ones. There will be time for those later. Please know that I am taking your pod to the light cruiser Crepescule so that you may be cared for and looked after for all of your days. Please prepare yourself to be safe.”

Not her best work. Too stilted. In any case.

Rosa could detect a living sophont in there: a Terran. Perhaps unconscious? Or perhaps she had phrased the greeting so awkwardly that there was no need to respond? She had enough oxygen, so… nothing to be done now. Rosa could only take the pod back to the ship, greet the poor thing again, figure out whatever likely tragic thing happened on the third ship, then be done with the whole affair. Maybe start a new commentary. Check the glosses on her latest work. Sext the Bureaucratic Database. Something productive, analytical, and far away from any florets or feralists.

An hour later, Stemphanie’s shuttle brought its thick outer vines around the front of the escape pod. Flames from Umber-3’s atmosphere bounced off harmlessly. To herself, to her ship, to her loved one, and perhaps even to the sophont outside, Rosa chanted: “Welcome home, to all of us.”

The Crepescule ! The Crepescule ! A light cruiser and logistics vessel which dwarfed even dreadnaught-class Terran ships. Oh, the gorgeous sag of its green-flecked purple hull, the plump hanging mass of its nacelles. She could roam anywhere in the known universe, but her grand majesty hovered in impossibly low geosynchronous orbit around humble Umber-3. Her motherly love shone down on every inch of the planet’s continent: from felten-gray mountains ridged along vast oceans, to the great City thrumming at its center, to the golden plains and red brush between them. Even the hardiest of independents could lose hours, their eyes locked and mouth gaping toward the ship’s rippling patterns, full of satin whispers: “Come, and be mine. Come, and belong. Come, and be born.”

Mere moments later, no worse for wear from re-entry, Rosa began her landing procedure in her home’s docking bay. Bernard had already arrived, waving his skinny fingers to his own sprightly biorhythm. Rosa’s own rhythms had regained some of their elegance and filigree, but the stuttering and gauzy tempo betrayed her continuing grief. As she exited her craft, she wondered: what music would this sophont add to the great symphony of the Crepescule ? After their domestication, would their new compositions bear any resemblance to the old?

“Quick trip, huh? Stars, but that thing can fly.” Bernard twirled and tapped his way over to his friend.

“One of the many gifts she left to me, and to all of us on the ship.”

“May her memory echo forever across our lives, and all the galaxies. Now,” he pressed, “any contact from our escapee?”

“None yet. They’re alive, at least.”

“Well, that’s a good start.” Bernard reached up to his tall friend’s mossy shoulders and smoothed down some rumpled edges. “Now, let’s put out finest welcome voice on, hmm? We have a pet to impress.”

“But of course, my dear choirmaster.” Rosa approached the pod door. The observation window was dingy. She couldn’t see through. She keyed in an input sequence to break the seal and stepped away. “Let us begin our welcome.”

First: the hiss of atmosphere as oxygen rushed into the vessel.

Second: the slow whine of hinges as the access door creaked ajar.

Third: a hand, Terran, glowing like soft dulled copper, only slightly calloused, strong and firm, but the fingers… the fingers moved all wrong. The Terran florets didn’t flex their knuckles this way, did they?

Fourth: biorhythms so loud that even untrained ears might hear them. Two vulgar, robotic pulses in arcane mechanical polyrhythm; and then atop, a grinding howl. Affini biorhythms were laced in fractals and fugue, self-similar timbres that drew sophonts into stupefied wonder. But this… noise didn’t invite, it… rejected. Assaulted. Neither Affini had ever heard anything like it before. This was a Terran?

Fifth: the hand clenching and slamming the door open against the hull. The echo joining the cacophony. A crescendo of noise filling the entire bay.

Sixth: a Terran woman hunch-stepping through the hatch and onto the deck, head bowed behind long black hair.

Seventh: the woman standing. Powerful calves and a soft double-belly, toned biceps resting under plush softness. Fat and muscle in equal measure, all naked under the dock lights.

Eighth: her forward steps, shaking her hair from her face. The heavy grace of her footfalls. The confidence of her path toward the two Affini.

Ninth: wide eyes that trapped glares and glints from ship surfaces and shone them back like searchlight beams. Bushy eyebrows. A black respirator pressed over her nose and mouth and chin.

Tenth: her slack expression tightening to a grin. Even under the mask, anyone could tell. Her eyes beaming as they focused laser-sharp onto Rosa.

Eleventh: from the woman’s throat, a scraping and roaring laugh.

Twelfth: the cessation of noise, and the silence which followed, as the woman collapsed onto the Crepescule shuttle bay floor.

---

Wind whipped through Rosa’s moss as she bounded forward. She held the woman — alive, unconscious — close and firmly against her belly. The Terran had made quite the imposing entrance, but she was still tiny compared to Rosa and her companion.

“Sent a transmission ahead. Area is cleared for us. Doors opened for emergency intake.” Bernard panted. All lilt had left his voice—a pet was in danger . “Need you assisting me in case anything goes wrong.”

Rosa didn’t argue. Whatever her feelings, she was an affini—nothing could tear her from a sick sophont. Peace and quiet would have to wait.

Groups on an evening walk stood aside to allow the rescue team by. Some florets cheered, assuming this was some tense pet-and-owner race; others, shocked by the sudden interruption, lay in their owners’ lap seeking adulation and comfort. But the way was clear. Scant seconds passed before Bernard, Rosa, and the Terran breached the open doors of the Castiglione Memorial Xenoveterinary Hospital.

“Exam Room Mu is ready for you, Sir!” A blonde twink of a human in a naughty-nurse getup called to Bernard from the reception desk.

Without losing his pace on his way past, the male affini stretched out his neck to plant a kiss on the boy’s cheek. He giggled. “Thank you Sir!” In the Affini Compact, there was always time for florets. If there was no time, causality would warp so time could be made.

The exam room held a few exam tables, soft light from radiant ceiling vines, large display screens on one wall and row upon row of drawers on all the others. The scant available wall space bore some motivational posters, encouraging patients in a dozen different languages: “You’re in good vines!” “Nobody beats Affini medicine!” “Free lollipops with every checkup!” Rosa set the Terran on the soft table and stared at her. Something was wrong.

A voice chirped from the wall. “Good evening, Dr. Bramblewood!! Your patient’s vitals are stable, but I’ve detected a teeeeensy amount of generalized inflammation in her soft tissue.” Tension leaked from the room; she wasn’t in immediate danger.

“Thank you, Donovan,” Bernard chirped, and the office AI hummed in satisfaction. “Are all of my injection sets ready?”

“Of course, Dr. Bramblewood! Would you like me to begin administration of xenodrugs?”

“Don’t.” Rosa cut in. She’d been staring down at the naked Terran. Bernard hopped over to the table. “Observe.”

“Dermatitis, slight urticaria.” Bernard frowned. “Rashes. Those weren’t on her when she exited the pod, were they?”

Rosa shook her head. “They appeared on the way here, in the exact spots I was holding her.”

Bernard nodded and turned. “Donovan, the patient appears to have topical and possibly internal allergies. She is not to be touched beyond what is necessary. Synthesize some antihistamine — not the advanced isochem we use, just the classic Terran formulation — and pass it to me with some epinephrine when finished. Concurrently, please begin medical imaging.” Turning back to the patient, he frowned. “There’s even light lichenification of the affected skin. Already?” Sighing dramatically, he turned to Rosa. “Looks like our darling here suffers from an over-reactive immune system.”

“Most xenodrugs are probably out, then?”

“Let us hope that’s not the case. I’ll take a quick blood sample and then have Donovan run some tests.” Donovan chuckled. “Without class C inhibitors, any delusions of independence will quickly drain from her, at least. She’ll find a good home.”

Rosa tilted her mask. Class-C xenodrugs enhanced a sophont’s receptivity to Affini biorhythms, whereas Class-C inhibitors had the opposite effect. The few independents aboard the Crepescule would be moaning submissives without them. Stemphanie actually took a small regular dose of inhibitors, just so she wouldn’t get too distracted while working on a project with Rosa. “My mind is scattered enough, dearie, so allow me some focus before I fall into those sweet eyes again.”

Unlike most of her kin, Rosa did not have a “face.” Affini could shapeshift into whatever form pleased them; however, in order to fulfill their role as stewards of the universe, they often shifted their form to complement a species they were domesticating. Since Umber-3 was an outer Terran colony, most Crepescule affini still wore a humanoid form. It remained fashionable to arrange leaves, thorns, and branches into a simulacrum of the human face. Rosa never bothered. Her ochre eyes swam freely around her moss “head”—that is, until Stemphanie put her footpaw down. “If you can’t settle on a face, then I’ll just have to make one for you!” The rough-hewn wooden mask with lensless glasses (“for style, missy! now you’ll look as distinguished as me!”) was now the only face Rosa could imagine wearing. Rosa scratched its edge with her vines.

Bernard cleared his throat—a Terran affectation completely foreign to Affini physiology, but a fashionable way to fill silence all the same—and continued. “Knowing Terrans, she’ll likely be bothered she’s naked and around strangers.”

“Were that the case, why would she have been naked in the escape pod?”

“Perhaps she fled from… a nudist Terran cult?”

“Captain’s reports indicate the bodies in the third ship were all quite clothed. What’s more, these calluses on her feet indicate she walked often without footwear.” Rosa relished the chance to reason through a simple problem. Bernard had noticed the callouses, of course; he was just being kind. “She was likely used to living like this, so I doubt it will be an issue.”

“Just in case, my illustrious detective, I’m going to place a scrap of medical medical gown on her thigh. Perhaps her rash is from nothing but your boisterous spores.” Bernard dropped a square of fabric down onto the Terran’s skin; both Affini watched in silence.

In just seconds, they watched the skin around the scrap redden, raise, and become leathery. Rosa snatched it away. One wall of screens blinked to life.

“Well, at least she isn’t allergic to the table. Donovan, thank you for the scans, I’ll peruse them now. The blood sample should be by your sensors, alongside a scrape from her vaginal wall. Clone those for me and examine how she might react to the xenodrugs. Lastly, while you run the tests, be a dear and scan the xenoveterinary records for the extremes of Terran allergic reactions.”

“Absolutely, Dr. Bramblewood!”

The affini veterinarian turned toward the screens. “Patient has normal liver functions, bone integrity is high, organs seem healthy. These ovaries are synthetic…” he trailed off. His leaves shivered and rose in astonishment. “These are… Affini Compact hormone replacement implants! The vaginoplasty could’ve been Terran Accord, but that is our technology! How in the stars did a feralist get them? Wait…” he approached the screen and pointed. “Donovan, is this a scan error?” The right ovary was completely dark on the screen.

“No sir! The left implant has no serial number but matches Affini-designed Terran-compatable biotechnology. The right implant has some kind of heavy metal alloy shielding it from the scan. Even from the X-rays! I have not been authorized for gamma-ray imaging.”

“And you won’t be, my dear assistant. Not yet anyway. That kind of imaging needs tiny doses over weeks. No need to bother now, especially if she’s allergic to more than just clothes and moss.”

“About that, Dr. Bramblewood; I have visualizations from the attempted introduction of all known Terran-compatible xenodrug variants into the samples. Would you like to see?”

“How could I resist? Please, go ahead.” The scans faded, and the wall-screen divided into hundreds of smaller windows. Each held close-ups on tissue samples with nearby blood vessels. And when the drugs were introduced…

“By the Everbloom,” Rosa whispered. “What is this?”

Over the next few seconds Bernard seemed to sag, then wither. His glittering eyes lay still as he quietly intoned his observations. “Increased movement of blood plasma toward the tissue. White blood cells swarming. Antibodies everywhere. Near-immediate granulation of mast cells. Cytokine levels rising- no, complete cytokine storm. Catastrophic and immediate anaphylaxis. Massive cell death.” His voice was dead. “Blooms unbound, this is horrific. Her body is set to destroy itself.”

Rosa glanced back to the table where the woman lay, unaware of the carnage. How was she alive ?

“Dr. Bramblewood, these reactions are six standard deviations outside the average severity of any recorded Terran allergic reaction,” Donovan recited. “Though symptom presentation bears some similarity to what Terrans called Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, the cytokine storm matches only the most severe of Terran illnesses. She will likely have topical reactions to most substances, but nearly any foreign substance in her bloodstream or tissues could kill her.”

“Hence the mask.” Rosa frowned at the woman’s face. “She is used to this. The spaceship would be a controlled enough environment—but for the other passengers. Was she a test subject? There’s no way she came by this naturally.” She waited for her companion’s response; none came. She turned back. “Bernard?”

Her proud and flamboyant Affini friend was a half-formed pile on the floor. “Stars above and below and in every direction, I have no idea how to handle this,” he muttered. His dim ruby core poked through his side. “No xenodrugs??? No drugs at all ??? If she needs a procedure, she can’t be sedated; if she needs surgery, the incision alone might kill her.” Flecks of Bernard fluttered away. “ This is wrong. This should not be. ”

“Oh, my dear, Bernard.” Rosa lunged over and wrapped herself around him. “You are neither sprout nor fool. You are not omniscient or omnipotent, but you are an Affini xenoveterinarian. And now you have a new problem to solve.”

The lump winced. “Rosa, this isn’t a game. This isn’t a taxonomic debate with a clever solution hiding in the source text. She could die. ” Bernard stooped further. How could her friend become so small? “Ten years is not enough time. My assistant is dead. My mentor is retired. I don’t know how to keep this creature safe .”

“Look there, my friend,” Rosa guided Bernard’s head to the screens again. In the sea of death, two samples remained alive. “Antihistamines and epinephrine do not damage her. Those will be our first lines of defense against a reaction. And we will get help. We will contact your… distinguished predecessor, and ze will be on the next jump shuttle from the core worlds. And you will do hir proud, and your former assistant proud, and all of us proud. Come on, up you go.” Rosa pulled most of Bernard to his feet and let go. He wobbled a moment. Blood red light drenched his limp vines. Then, all at once, the vines rose up from the floor and coiled around him. The momentum pulled him up into the air, and he returned to the ground—with a twirl.

“Of course. Of course! I apologize Rosa dear. At heart I remain a nervous youth. Whereas you are wise beyond your blooms.” He chuckled sadly.

“And you spared me from being a pile of rot in my hab today, Bernard. In supporting each other, we will find a way to help the poor thing.”

“True.” Bernard smiled.“Now, Donovan. Please contact the ship architects about constructing a hab made of the same materials as the exam table and the interior of that escape pod. Send a report of our investigation to the Captain, and request their opinion on where the hab should be placed. Please send a request to Florian Hosta, 26th Bloom to get hir knobs out here and help hir old student. And lastly, ask Rosa Rosae’s hab AI to compile some soaps and oils for those bothersome spores.” He winked at Rosa, who groaned.

“I will heed the good doctor’s advice and enjoy a bath this evening. In fact, may I take my leave now?”

“Of course, my dear assistant. Xenoveterinarian you may not be, but you have performed admirably. Take the night off.”

“Of course, director.” They both chuckled and embraced. Rosa made for the door, but halted by the sleeping Terran woman. The raucous noise in her biorhythms was gone; the hollow polyrhythms remained. She reached out to pet her head; she stopped herself in time. “Beloved creature, my name is Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom. I will take my leave of you now, and perhaps we may cross paths again. I hope to be the first strand in a long rope of affini who bind you here, to enable your best, safest, and most wonderful life with us. Thank you for surviving up until now. Please keep at it.” With that, she left the exam room.

“Thank you for your help Miss Rosa!” the nurse-twink at the desk squealed. Rosa unleashed all her pent-up pets on this helpless floret, much to his delight.

“Of course, little one. Your owner is dear to me, and I will help him in all ways my vines can reach.”

“Ehehe! Ehehe. My Dadddddy feeelllslss so much bettter when youuuuu’re around…!!!” His words slurred as the attention overtook him.

“All so he can give you his worst when the day is through,” she whispered slyly, booping the floret’s nose. “And day was done a while ago, so make sure you get him home soon and make up for lost time.” She put him down and walked out.

“Of course Miss!! I always do. Nini!” The twink blew a kiss; Rosa, back turned, mimed catching it with a vine.

Outside the doors of the Vet Hospital, Rosa stared out at the Crepescule : vine-laced vistas spasming with color; the communes’ buildings stowed in soft copses; diaphanous flicker-lights cresting the cool blue; the buildings’ residents sighing delightedly; verdant cupolas strung bursted from knobbled trees; the breath of belonging; the picture of peace…

She headed back to her hab. Peaceful night had been interrupted; peaceful night could once again resume.

Chapter 3

“Welcome home, Mistress Rosa! Please find Master Bernard’s soaps by the bath alongside fresh mineral water. I have amended all texts in the house with today’s scholarly comment. Lastly, Mxdemoiselle Database has composed for you three fresh volumes of exceedingly erotic love letters which I’ve printed, bound, and deposited by your chambers.”

“Thank you, Gina, my light. Please, some affini classical music from the Core Worlds for tonight. Pick a genre.”

“A selection of biorhythmic choral works, then! Have a good evening, Mistress.” Delicate timbres and lattice-wrought rhythms suffused Rosa Rosae, Third bloom’s tired mosses as she slunk back into her home.

Once, her hab shone with white walls and nearly no decoration. She’d had a large collection of physical texts, of course, but they stayed in storage—until she met Stemphanie. (“You may call it chaotic, missy, but nothing in storage means nothing is forgotten. My poor old scatterbrain demands it!”) Since then, each wall’s finely carved planks held tools, mementos, projects, and thousands upon thousands of bound volumes: the majestically cozy immaculate clutter only a house full of shelves can supply. Once, she’d been indifferent; now, Rosa loved coming home.

She shone a tired smile at her paradise: dense tomes dripping with constantly-updated marginalia and glosses and appendices wherein her peers debated every matter imaginable. She peered down the stacks at a few: surprising cognates in languages of never-met species; best practices for sunsetting a cotyledon program; a catalog and phonemic analysis of floret moans; theosophical and theological reflections on The Everbloom; comparative reviews of fanfiction featuring the fifth fundamental force and the other four (like, does the weak magnetic force always bottom?); a full compendium of rites for the dead across every minority group of every species; and a recent treatise, already brimming with citation and commentary, that she herself had authored.

When affini first arrived to domesticate Umber-3, Terrans had already constructed one massive city. A group of Rosa’s colleagues formulated a plan to level the city and rebuild it. It was a good plan and everyone knew it. Before the Overnet vote, they invited anyone across the universe to an arena debate—just to be sure. When day came for the competition, only one contestant stood against them.

Her opponents’ analysis began reasonably enough. Liberal Terran colonists had dreamed a “planned community”: an economic exclusion zone from the corporatist Terran accord, a meritocratic enclave of sciences and research, and a beacon of civilized and “progressive” Terran values. A reasonable dream, which proceeded as one might expect. Moon-eyed planners wrestled conniving developers. Corporate interests co-opted minority demands. Technological necessity faltered under absurd design mandates. By the end, in seeking to subvert humanity’s worst traits, the builders had reproduced the hypocritical inequities, inefficiencies, and inconsistencies of the Terran Accord. Imagined for all and built for none. Its most “impressive” edifices—universities, arts centers, public commons—were barely-functioning vanity projects built to fulfill archaic economic instruments called “write-offs” and policed by the Respectability Militias. To the clearest-eyed Terrans, the City was a beautiful face with a rotting underbelly, the best and worst of humanity. To the affini, it was just a sad mess better off unmade. Rosa, mostly, agreed.

Her colleagues proposed a distributed network of smaller urban centers over a wider area of the continent. Tall buildings encouraged Terran arrogance and hierarchy; so, tear them down. Hyper-density was stifling to their creative spirits and dissociated them from the planet’s natural beauty; so, make smaller dense settlements to encourage pack-bonding with low and gentle structures showcasing the natural world. Institutions of arts and learning could only ever reproduce marketable and conservative practices for the privileged few; so, shatter and spread their resources to all corners of the new utopia. (“The Terrans don’t call them conservatories for nothing,” one scholar had quipped.) Crowded causeways with few essential resources engendered chaos and scarcity; so, concentrate necessities in key locations while allowing surplus to blossom freely through near-instant mass transit.

Terrans were right: architecture could bring out the best in them. All they needed was affini wisdom to actually know what “the best” was. Decentralized and re-federated, Terran “independent” communities could blossom under affini guidance, surveillance, attention, and love. The vast majority of affini scholars and population agreed: just remake the planet’s surface like one of the affini ships.

In response, Rosa had written her most-recent work, Theses on a Postcolonial Umber-3 , and presented her findings in the intergalactically televised debate. Thank the Stars she’d been able to prepare her remarks ahead of time.

“My colleagues have love in their cores, truth in their eyes, and wisdom in each vine. Their plan is sound. There is no ill future for Umber-3 now that the Affini Compact have arrived. In the spirit of love and with the conviction of each sparkling flower of my moss, Rosa Rosae, Second Bloom, nonetheless rises to challenge my beloved colleagues!” 

How the crowd had shaken the arena with their cheers! They whooped and sang for all twenty minutes of her closing remarks, none louder than her darling Stemphanie.

“Let me repeat, my dearest community, that even the simplest floret could understand. Federated communities could be built on Umber-3 without destroying the core city; doing so would soothe the heels-dug nesting instinct of Terran settlers. The benefits of affini urban design could be retrofitted into the city without vast effort; doing so would provide affini architects an interesting challenge and provide Terran florets and independents a pleasurable creative ‘advisorship.’ Unlike so many other systems under affini dominion, the City could be renamed to specifically encourage so-called “Terran Independence”; doing so could provide a propaganda tool to extant feralists and create a safe training ground for Terran culture to fully understand the folly of independence. As a condition for its sham independence, Terran settlers could be forced to welcome independents of other species; doing so under effective supervision should create a bursting dish of research opportunities—interspecies relationships, intraspecies in-group psychology, applied xenosociology, emergent pheromone adaptations, new languages and art forms via unexpected neighbors collaborating—all of which would aid the Compact in better finding, serving, nurturing, and owning the cute pets of this universe.

“Is it not sweeter when a floret-to-be realizes their own need for domestication, rather than being drugged into what they needed? And is it not dull to have cataloged and solved all xenoarcheobureaucratic matters for every species within our vines? As long as we steward it safely and cautiously, the city would increase the number of dependents while offering something truly new —to hold-out independents and affini researchers alike. I beg my colleagues and all who hear me to imagine Umber-3 not as a regrettable failure to be finally corrected, but instead the crucible to a new, grand, and loving experiment. ‘Make not the gift-horsefly drink their vinegar; lead them to honey by their horsefly-mouth!!’ Praise and prosperity to Umber-3’s City of Independents!”

Affini debates were decided not by the most correct. ’Ours is a big universe,’ she’d explained to Stemphanie, ‘and many things can be true at the same time.’ Competitions were won by the most loving, the most playful, and the most robust telling. Knowledge was not a commodity to be produced but a joyfully infinite mass to refine and share in community. So when the Overnet vote narrowly held in favor of her proposal, all of Rosa’s core echoed with pride and gratitude: not that she had won, but that she had communed deeply with so many beings.

Today, her treatise was just some books on some shelves next to some old tinkerer’s tools Stemphanie had left behind. Rosa hurried away from her reverie.

Her bath: warm and soft. The soaps: lush and subtle. The water: cool and refreshing. Rosa focused very hard on these things but could not keep her thoughts from wandering. Eventually, she relented. The grief or the gruesome scene on the third ship, called the Benedictus ? The latter; there had been enough grieving these last few days.

She quickly absorbed the captain’s reports. Six Terran rebels were dead. Knives in their throats. They’d died in a circle; trails of their blood spurted toward the center. Time of death was three minutes after the affini cargo ship arrived nearby. They’d died near-simultaneously; the visitor’s escape pod had jumped shortly after. Like the living feralists they’d retrieved, these shipmates were gaunt and underfed. Poor things. Why had they died?

Theory one: murder. The naked woman had more than enough strength to overpower and stab each of the crew in turn, especially if they were weakened. But Terrans show surprising strength when facing death; it was hard to imagine all of them dying without visible signs of struggle. It was also highly unlikely a Terran could have killed them and arranged them so immaculately before making the pod jump. Lastly, if the Terran’s skin condition responded badly to all foreign substances, human blood other than her own could have left welts on her body. By that logic, it couldn’t be murder.

Theory two: suicide. There was a sad but plausible motive: Terran rebels occasionally took their own lives when faced with capture. They could have lived beautiful domesticated lives… or even independent ones. Feralist ideology technically killed them, but affini blamed themselves. If only they’d gotten there sooner, more quietly. Whatever the motive, this idea wasn’t possible either. Not one of them flinched. Not one of them missed. Not one Terran pulled their knife out. The scene was peaceful. It couldn’t be suicide.

What of the mysterious woman herself? Rosa’s mind flooded with questions, but she set them aside and left the bath. None of this mattered. Even without Class-Ds—xenodrugs that force truths from the lips of needy, reticent pets—she could hypnotize the woman and extract the information. More likely, someone else would. Either way: under the yoke of affini supremacy, no mystery could prosper long. The water shone crystal and bright as Rosa shook herself dry. The current musical piece pealed gorgeously and concluded.

“Thank you for the soaps and songs, Gina, they were lovely.”

“Of course Mistress. Will there be anything else this evening?”

“No my dear. A short day, and an early night for this clump of garden scraps.”

“Thank you Mistress. Until tomorrow!”

With that, Rosa Rosae settled into her bed. The book of love letters accompanied her down a mercifully short path to oblivion. When time came, she laid her mask on her bedside and let her body lose all definition. For the first time in a fitful and tragic two weeks, Rosa slept deeply and dreamt of nothing.

---

“…sa… Mi… Ro…cap… hab...ease… Mistress!”

Rosa blinked awake, unusually groggy. “Gina, why in the stars would you wake me?”

“I apologize, Mistress. It is midday already.”

Midday? Rosa glanced down at her mosses; they shone with color. She found fresh mushroom colonies blossoming on her back. She was obviously still recovering from her latest bloom. Of course.

“Yes, but that can’t be reason enough. What is it, Gina?”

“...the Captain is here with two architects—Miss Philia and Master Zyll— grafting an extension onto the hab.”

Rosa blinked once. Then again. On the third blink, she got it. “WHAT?”

Loud knocks interrupted the AI’s apology. A screen on Rosa’s ceiling flickered to life: Captain Yotta Rhizoma grinned down stupidly at her. “Oh! Good morning sleepyhead. Don’t worry, we just finished.”

Rosa grabbed her mask, stuck it on her head, and barked to her strange friend: “Stop this at once, if you please!”

“I told you,” hummed Yotta, shrugging her clovers, “we just finished. Come out and see for yourself.”

Vines burst from Rosa’s chest toward the doorframe, latched on, and flung her out toward the entryway. Nimbly she hurtled through her labyrinth of books. Less than a second passed before she opened the hab door. The green day greeted her as she stormed out to meet her grinning friend. “What is the meaning of this, Yotta?”

“Hello! I love you as well! It’s so nice to see you out and about.” Yotta wrapped their friend in a tight hug, eventually reciprocated by the stunned Rosa. “This is a present! And also a favor! A… pravor!”

“Your chaotic grasp of the Terran language will not distract me.” Rosa pulled away. “You must tell me everything, Captain .”

“Oh come now, Rosa, I’m not on duty today. Relax. Zetta, be a good pet and show her?”

Yotta stood, and out from underneath her puttered a gray, plush, rounded rectangular prism. The divot Yotta had left on it slowly decompressed. “Ohhhhhh hiiiii Miss Rosa! It’s so nice to see you!” Zetta Rhizoma, Fourth Floret, wiggled their plain mechanical body lazily in the air.

A strained smile overtook Rosa’s voice. “Well hello Zetta. What madness has your owner led you down this time?”

“Awwww, you sound upset Miss Rosa.” They floated closer, rubbing Rosa’s leg flirtatiously. “Would sitting on me make you feel better?”

“No, but it would make you feel too good to properly complete your owner’s order.”

How could a footrest pout so? “Fiiiiiiine,” they groaned. A hologram sprang up above them. “This is a fresh hab unit my Owner & Creator Yotta Rhizoma commissioned from the architects based on Mr. Bramblewood’s specifications.”

“Bernard’s specifications? I didn’t request–…wait. Yotta, you…”

“Yes, my dear,” cheered the robot’s owner. A mass of clovers careened onto their floret’s body, pressing it toward the ground with a squeal. “You are hereby in charge of wardship for our unknown unnamed and as-yet-unawoken sophont. Her custom containment hab has been grafted via transparent barrier onto your library annex, that you may speak with her without endangering her. Isn’t that exciting?”

For five silent seconds Rosa stood unnaturally still. Then: twenty thick vines burst from her belly toward Yotta, bound her completely, and then chucked her into Rosa’s open hab door. “Zetta, I’ll be back with your owner in a moment.” She slammed the entry door behind her.

In the dark and quiet Yotta stood, and mimed dusting herself off. “My my, Rosa, haven’t you heard the stylus flows mightier than water?”

“ Yotta… ” Rosa reared up, suddenly huge, menacing, and serpentine. She towered above her captive. “ I tolerated your exercise yesterday, but I gave no consent to such an arrangement .”

“You’re right, you didn’t! But we already voted.”

“ We ?”

Yotta pulled a pad from their clovers and held it up to Rosa’s looming mass. “Yes indeed! The Crepescule voted during your rebloom to empower me, your older and might-I-add-wiser friend, to help you with your recovery from grief. I am thus empowered to bring you a new neighbor to chat with. You never bother checking the net, do you?”

Rosa stared at the pad, eyes vicious—then collapsed to the floor in wet plaps. Scraps of her shook and rumbled. She sobbed. “… I… I just need some… please, just let me alone a while. Let me study. Leave me to my texts.”

“My dear friend, I can’t do that.” Yotta stepped gingerly through the crooked blooms weeping dew onto the floor. “Scholars in distress love to pretend their work is a solitary one, a refuge from the ‘real world.’ But you know that’s not how we do things here.” The captain gingerly gathered mosses and carried them back to Rosa’s core. “Affini life is social life. You don’t have all these books because of what’s in them, you have them because of who made them and who could learn from them. Without intervention, you’d spend weeks in here pretending otherwise. There’s no healing in books alone.”

Rosa gasped as Yotta began rubbing her core softly. No one had touched her there since...

“I heard the sweet thing you said to our poor guest, much like I heard how you tickled Bernard’s boy until he could barely speak. Seeing you with Zetta affirmed it: you need company.”

“…that Terran can’t use class-C inhibitors.” Rosa levied what feeble protests she could imagine. “She will fall for me, Yotta. And no matter what anyone on the ship says, I am not ready to be anyone’s owner, much less of such a pained creature wh-”

“Shhhh. Shhh shh shhh. The barrier will muffle your biorhythms. Her hab will be contained and safe for her. Bernard will be over daily for checkups and gamma imaging on her mystery implant; he suspects it has something to do with her condition. She’ll have a hab AI to meet her needs, to which you’ll have full override access if she does anything stupid. And no, Bernard should not take her; he and his floret are… quite loud, every night, and it might disturb the poor girl even more.” Yotta smiled soothingly. “I may like to play around, but I did think this through. It’ll be okay.”

Rosa allowed herself a few moments longer under Yotta’s touch before reassembling her body once again. She mumbled “...so yesterday, when you said the shuttle trip was not an order…”

“It actually was! Brilliant deduction my dear. To be frank, I need a mind like yours to puzzle apart what happened to the poor dear.” Yotta became serious. “I feel uneasy about the whole thing. The only mysteries on the Crepescule should be fun games and scholarly exercises, not murder or medical anomalies. That’s the ‘favor’ part of this whole deal. Help your old friend out?”

“…someday, Yotta, I will exact my revenge for this incursion.” Rosa hugged her friend tightly. “And I will also find some way to express my gratitude. Forgive me for not realizing how much help I needed. I will abide the arrangement as best I can.”

Yotta chuckled. “Even an all-powerful progenitor species needs assistance now and then. Come on back out. Our guest will be delivered shortly. Oh, and you have my express permission to interrogate and hypnotize her for information, of course.”

“You know as well as I, Captain, that I do not need your permission to subjugate a pet.” Her serious tone broke into a chuckle of her own. “But thank you. I probably will not require it.”

“Oh, I hope you do it anyway. Might be fun!”

“We’ll see. Let’s go, I think your pet has lost their mind…” the two turned to the front door and the low sound of thumping and moaning.

Yotta blushed. “Goodness, the poor horny wreck. Zetttaaaaa! I’m coming sweetie!!”

The three met up again outside, where Zetta nearly knocked their owner over. “Caaaaaaaaptain!!! Please don’t leave me alone like thaaaaat!” Yotta fussed apologetically until the robot cheered back up. A short time later, Bernard and his own floret came down the causeway pulling a floating structure. Or rather, Bernard pulled, and the terran cooed and sighed and rubbed his owner’s now-exaggerated musculature “Now now, Billy, there will be time for that later. Hoooyyyy Zetta! Did she accept?”

“What does it matter? But yes, I did. How long have you been in on this, Bernard?” Rosa rumbled.

He scoffed. “Well it’s not my fault that Miss Book Fetish doesn’t check her pad. I took the vote like everybody else!” Bernard skipped over and embraced his friend. “Sorry for the little deception. It’ll probably happen again!”

“For your own sake, you ought to hope it does not.” Rosa pressed her mask up inches from Bernard’s eyes.

He gave it a spin. “C’mon you big lump. Help me work the airlock and get her inserted.” He gestured to the small levitating barge. “It’s heavier than it looks.”

On the exam table within the structure lay the Terran woman, her face shrouded in black hair. Her chest rose and fell peacefully. Rosa felt a pang of affection reach her core; she shook it away. Rosa and Bernard deftly navigated the unit into the hatch—much to the applause of Billy and Zetta.

“My friend, do you know when she might awaken?” Rosa mimed wiping sweat from her brow, getting a swoon from the florets.

“Well, sometime between right now and when the Umbran star explodes,” Bernard shrugged. “Her hab AI will alert Gina when she’s up.”

“Then I will return to my books for now. Thank you Bernard. I will send word when she rises.”

“Wonderful. Ok, ‘Ciao!’ Dear Billy taught me that, isn’t he just so darling?”

“Yes he is, Bernard. Enjoy sodomizing him tonight.”

Bernard rolled his eyes. “I wish you were just a touch more romantic. ‘Sodomizing,’ my goodness. But yes, I will.” He waved goodbye, grabbed his floret, and practically flew back toward their home. Yotta and Zetta waved farewell and trotted off.

Rosa shut the door behind her, and pulled out her pad. Indeed—among the many messages of love and condolence was an alert of ship-vote taken on her behalf. “Good work, Gina. Excuse my earlier outburst. Please assemble a comfortable reading nook, a writing desk, and a few surveillance monitors by the transparent barrier; I will likely spend much time there.”

“Of course, Mistress!”

Gina and Zetta were both digital intelligences; between them, only Zetta was truly sapient. Gina had no emotional circuitry beyond what was polite to emulate in conversation. Rosa nevertheless valued her AI highly. She’d likely predicted what Rosa would request—the job was completed faster than Rosa could amble there. The narrow library annex now glowed with the soft light of her neighbor’s stark-off-white hab. A barrier hung invisibly between her home and the Terran’s; only when touched did its shape shimmer. Through it, she could see a spacious studio kitchen, living area, table, chairs, the front door, and the now-unsealed floating platform. Through the surveillance monitors, Rosa saw doors leading off to storage, sleeping, bathing, and “outdoor” sitting areas (obviously lined with the same barrier). It was all a bit drab and clinical, but Rosa would instruct her ward on automatic customization.

“Thank you Gina. Good work.”

“Of course, Mistress. Will there be anything else?”

“Establish an interface with her hab AI, alert me when she wakes, and proof the drafts of the thank-you notes I write over the next few hours.”

“With pleasure, Mistress!” Rosa sipped warm water from a brown/blue mug Stemphanie had made. Gathering her strength, she composed responses to everyone she’d worried over her breakdown. When finished, she took up volume two of the Database’s love letters and allowed the afternoon to pass peacefully.

---

It was nearing night when Rosa woke from an unexpected nap, turned, and saw the naked Terran woman sitting back straight, legs folded on a chair by the barrier. She smiled softly—her respirator lay at her side. She had thin lips, crooked teeth, and an infectious grin. The cool dark of Rosa’s nook shone in her eyes.

“Good evening Ma’am. My name is Twilight. I am pleased to meet you. If you don’t mind my asking: where am I, who are you, and how did I get here?”

Chapter 4

Rosa barely repressed her shock. “Oh my sincere apologies! I must have dozed off. I should have been present to greet you and explain. How are you feeling?”

Twilight giggled lightly. “I am well. I received the victuals you left by my table. They tasted wonderful—for synthcubes. I assume this is no longer my ship, Ma’am?”

How was she so calm? “No, it is not. I– oh goodness, I must introduce myself.” Rosa stood and bowed slightly. “My name is Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom. I am an affini scholar. We affini are guardians and stewards of the universe. We rescued you from your escape pod late yesterday. You have been…” Rosa thought to mention Twilight’s strange collapse, but decided against it. “...sleeping.”

“Escape pod?” The quiet woman cocked her head. “Did something happen?”

It was Rosa’s turn to cock her mask. “Wh… do you not remember?”

Twilight shook her head, then smiled sheepishly. “I hope Ma’am will forgive me. I often fall asleep or otherwise lose track of my surroundings. This has happened since I can remember, which is unfortunately not very long either. I am still delighted to make your acquaintance.” She bowed her head lightly, smile gaining bravery. “I am not used to any company at all, much less an alien!”

Rosa blinked. “I must inform you that the other Terrans on your ship had… passed away when we arrived.”

Twilight frowned, stared at the floor, then looked up at Rosa, confused. “Terrans on the Benedict ? Ma’am must be mistaken. I have been alone in my ship for years”

“That simply cannot be the case, we found-”

“You are the first living being I have conversed with besides myself.” The woman’s voice boomed suddenly filling both their habs. Her eyes widened; she covered her mouth. Affini and Terran sat in stunned silence.

Rosa spoke at tentative pace. “I… apologize for upsetting you. I imagine you have many questions; I certainly have many for you. The circumstances of your arrival here are somewhat strange. Perhaps we could each speak our piece, and pose questions in return.”

The woman nodded, slowly uncovering her mouth and attempting to speak. “I-” the booming was gone. “I would appreciate that very much. I’ll get some tea from the synthesizer, and we can chat.” She stood and walked to the replicator, spoke a command, and received a warm mug. She knew how to use the replicator already? Wait!

“Terran, stop! Your immune system has made you exceedingly allergic t-”

“Please do not be concerned. I am well aware of my condition.” She smiled softly, unbothered by Rosa’s outburst. She took the mug and sipped. “This is refined lavender tea. I entered the formulation myself. I thank the stars that I am not allergic to absolutely everything.” She smiled wider, closing her eyes and tilting her head. “I will be fine. Perhaps I can explain what I know?”

Rosa nodded, dumbfounded. “Please do, Twilight.”

“Thank you M- err, Rosa, yes?” She sat down gracefully and crossed her rippling legs. Her nudity didn’t bother Rosa; modesty was an outdated Terran concept. However, it bothered Rosa that Twilight wasn’t bothered by her own nudity. Perhaps it was a nudist cult… “May I begin, Miss Rosa?”

“Of course, Twilight. And, just Rosa, if you please.” Too soon.

She nodded. “Well, again, my name is Twilight. I have lived for four years aboard a repurposed Terran warship called the Benedict . My only companions have been myself, a vast digital library, and a synthesizer.” She pointed to the replicator . “I have no memory of my life before that. There were a few notes on me in the library: my name, my MCAS-like condition, a few safe substances I could consume, and a diagnosis of amnesia and narcolepsy. I would often fall asleep and wake hours later in some other part of the ship. Sometimes days later! It stopped bothering me after a few months.” She spoke carefree, with an edge of excitement. Rosa’s thorns ground. “For a while, I searched the library for clues about who I was. Then I stopped bothering.” She could say this so casually? “I spent my days snacking, taking walks around the deck, watching the stars, and reading. I love reading very much, Rosa.” The shadows in her eyes jumped and danced. “Do you have a library I could access?”

Rosa held back a fresh, strange exasperation. “…yes, of course. I will explain how in a short while. Could you speak on, perhaps the… the rendezvous with our forces? the bodies? launching the pod? directing the jump? our strange greeting in the landing bay? 

“I am sorry, Rosa. I do not know about any of that. Perhaps I was sleepwalking? The last memory I have was of snacking on the ship and then waking up here. Oh, you were also asleep when I woke up. Do you take naps as well?” She smiled, tilting her head.

Everything hitched. Dirt and stars. A low growl became a roar within Rosa. “So not only do you expect me to believe that you had nothing to do with the feralist encampment you were a clear part of; and not only do you ask me to consider you entered, configured, and executed a hypermetric jump in an escape pod in your sleep ; you also think I will entertain the notion you had nothing to do with the six fresh corpses in only place you have ever lived???””

The air shook. The mug trembled. Tears filled Twilight’s eyes—but she nodded bravely. “I do. I am so sorry for upsetting you, Miss Rosa. Please forgive me.”

Though the barrier filtered Rosa’s biorhythm, Rosa could hear Twilight’s song loud and clear: the same mechanical polyrhythm as before, quickening now with anxiety; and the humble warble of an honest and plaintive soul.

Twilight wasn’t lying .

And Rosa had just lashed out at her ward—for nothing .

“...shhh. Shhhh. Listen to me, Twilight, my dear. ” Rosa suffused hypnotic glow into her words—Twilight’s eyes widened slightly, her mouth opened slowly.  “I am an affini hundreds and hundreds of years your senior. I have encountered people, places, matters far beyond your imagination. It is my and my people’s duty to understand and steward this universe. And yet I have never encountered anyone like you. In facing a true unknown for the first time in my many lifetimes, I have lost my temper. The fault is mine—you have committed no harm.”

Twilight drooped toward her, transfixed. Her eyes shone ochre. 

Rosa panicked, and dropped her gaze. “For my moody and irresponsible carelessness, and for not rescuing you from your difficulties sooner, I offer you my deepest apology. I am sorry.”

Twilight blinked once, blinked twice, and slowly returned to herself. “Oh. Hmm!…ah, of course I accept your apology. Thank you for it. I, um, pledge to you my honesty. If I may ask anything of you in turn: I ask you to not lie to me either.”

Rosa bowed with a boom in her voice and swore: “By the Everbloom: I have not lied to you; I will not lie to you.” This was a Terran; there was no need for deception anyway. 

Twilight smiled and clapped her hands—fully returned. “I am grateful and glad. You are very wonderful. Now,” she tilted her head sweetly again, “would you please tell me what an affini is, and what you mean by stewardship?”

Rosa drew cool air across her core and retreated to her familiar scripts. “Eons and eons before your species first banged two sticks together, we affini began wandering the stars in search of sophonts—sentient beings—to domesticate. We are a progenitor species blessed with strength, adaptability, reason, wisdom, and technology far beyond any other we have encountered. Every species we have encountered has been, at best, unable to govern itself efficiently and, at worst, predisposed to killing and torturing themselves and others. Humans are, in the intergalactic scheme of things, closer to the latter than the former. Therefore, ten years ago we made contact with, attempted to reason with, subjugated, and then signed a treaty with the human governments: the Human Domestication Treaty. That process took three years. The Terran Accord has become the Terran Protectorate of the Affini Compact. All humans are now subject to affini care, surveillance, and intervention if necessary. Most humans live independently; thankfully, some of you have realized domestication is a preferable arrangement for all involved. In short: we help lesser species achieve their better selves through governance—and their truest selves through submission.”

“Oh! Well that all seems fine.” Twilight smiled. “And where are we exactly? An affini planet?”

…had any Terran, untouched by biorhythms or xenodrugs, accepted the affini way of life so readily? “We are aboard the Crepescule , a light cruiser larger than any ship you’ve encountered or dreamed of. We are in semi-permanent orbit above the planet Umber-3, an outer Terran colony now under affini control. Your habitation unit has been constructed from materials designed not to aggravate your condition, sealing it from the ship interior; however, I pray you do not see yourself as a prisoner here.”

“And are you to domesticate me?”

Rosa’s thorns ground again.  “...no. Even if you weren’t a very special case, I am… currently unable to take on florets. Instead, because you have been ruled to not be dangerous, you have been entered into a legal relationship with me known as a wardship. I am to observe you and ensure you are fit for independence—however, please understand, independence does not mean absolute self-sufficiency. No creature, including myself, is an island. Should you choose a path of independence, you will have all of the resources of the Affini Compact to accommodate you. And should you choose a path of domestication, your owner would be under legal and cultural obligation to act in your best interests at all times. Independence is foolish, but so long as you will not be a risk to yourself or others, you may choose to be foolish.”

“Being foolish sounds fun, as does being wise.” How wicked, and how knowing, was that smile?

“...in any event, I do not own you, but I am to help meet your every need and ensure your safety. Are you lacking anything?”

“Only texts. I will hold you to your promise of your library!” She was nearly quivering in her seat. A sophont after her own heart. And she… trusted Rosa.

“Of course, Twilight. Before then, I must ask you a number of questions. Are you ready to be interviewed?”

“Of course, Rosa. Talking with you delights me.” The shadows leapt for joy in her easy smile. “Please, ah, ‘hit me with your best shot!’ Ehehe.”

---

“You said your name was Twilight. It is a lovely name. Do you have a last name, or other names, that you know of?

“No, Rosa. None that are known to me. I sometimes called myself ‘pumpkin’ when speaking to myself on my ship. It soothes me when I am in a mood.”

“How adorable. You spent most of your time reading?”

“Yes, Rosa, on the digital terminal. I also take short walks and have snacks.”

“What snacks can you eat?”

“I am able to metabolize potatoes, refined rapeseed oil, salt, and lavender. Other than that, I must have synthcubes. Mine were much more bland than yours!”

“We have our ways. How did you obtain your food?”

“Through a synthesizer. I learned how to use it on my ship.”

“That device is actually called a replicator —an affini device which, by all accounts, should not be found on an antique Terran ship.”

“Oh goodness! I never thought anything of it. How lucky I am!”

“Quite. You also carry some affini technology in your very body. Your ovaries are synthetic. While we are still investigating one, affini hands certainly crafted the other.”

“How strange… I have never heard of or encountered ‘affini’ before today… wait, I did read some Terran propaganda from a decade ago. Are you the ‘fucking weeds’ who came to ‘eat and enslave us’?”

“The very same. Are you afraid?”

“Well, are you going to eat and/or enslave me?”

“The first, only within a roleplay context; as for the second, submission and enslavement are vitally different. So I suppose I must answer a firm ‘no.’”

“Delightful. Then I am unworried.”

“And I am asking the questions, flower. Please allow me to continue.”

“Forgive my curiosity! Are other Terrans usually not so curious?”

“…I will assume you are making a joke.”

“I could have been, yes.”

“I believed you pledged not lie to me?”

“I will not make any statements that are false. Ambiguity remains my refuge; however, I am making every effort to speak clearly and without ambiguity.”

“Except just now.”

“Yes, except just now.”

“Let us hope it does not happen again.

“Ah! One moment. I have one more question for you, Rosa. Truly this time. I apologize.”

“And I will hold you to ‘one more question.’ Yes?”

“What does it mean that my ovaries are synthetic?”

“Oh, not much. You were likely born with different sex characteristics than the ones you have now. You’ve received vaginoplasty as well.”

“Oh, fabulous! I had no idea. I must offer past-me my congratulations.”

“What sort of gender are you comfortable with being?”

“Being a woman suits me fine! I think it is nice.”

“Good for you, then. I enjoy it as well.”

“Oh, congratulations!! Did you transition as well?”

“You have already spent your last question, so we will move on. Your build indicates refined musculature and heavy mass similar to weightlifters and sumo wrestlers of early Terra. Your love of snacks has been previously noted; did you have any sort of workout regimen aboard the ship?”

“Not besides my walks, Rosa. I’m just built this way, perhaps. Or I do pull-ups in my sleep!”

“I will inform you if I witness such a thing. The ship itself: did you interact with steering, life support, any aspect of ship maintenance?”

“No, Rosa. I was locked out of the engine room and bridge by passcode. I also never saw or heard from another ship.”

“Hmm. How do you know four years had passed there? Reports indicate your terminal had a clock, but lacked a date display.”

“I kept a day tally on the wall by the terminal. Sometimes I lost a day or two to sleep… at least I believe I did. Ah, even so, there are just over 1,400 tallies on that wall. This is pretty close to four years!”

“Admirable diligence. Did you ever despair?”

“I got a little scared sometimes, but I learned to love my routines. And there were so many texts!”

“And the library was… ah, 23rd century and prior Terran titles primarily?”

“Yes, Rosa! I have completed a small percentage of it. It never updated, but I did not mind.”

“And you were alone on the ship?”

“Yes, Rosa.”

“…do you know that your new replicator talks?”

“It DOES!?!?!?!”

“No questions. Your hab, like most habs, comes equipped with an AI unit. I turned it to silent mode while you slept. After we finish chatting you may speak with it, name it, and (optionally) assign it a gender.”

“Oh goody!! This is all very exciting. Thank you, Miss Rosa.”

“Just Rosa will do, and you may thank the stars that we found you. You receive what every member of the Affini Compact also receives.”

“Then I thank you all the more, for providing so much for so many.”

“Hmph. Now, tell me what you know about your condition.”

“To summarize crudely: I am violently allergic to nearly everything. I have thankfully never experienced anaphylaxis. Were I to spend extended time in any uncontrolled environment–even with my mask–I would likely die. No known medical condition in my library matched mine.”

“And how did you learn of your condition?”

“There was a text in the library with my name on it, and it contained a description. It was abstractly terrifying, but nothing in my environment could harm me.”

“How did you get the mask?”

“It was by the floor where I slept.”

“You slept on the floor?”

“I found no soft metal bedding, nor hyper-hypoallergenic plastic sheets, so I became quite comfortable sleeping on the floor.”

“…we have provided you with bedding crafted of the same materials as your mask.”

“Truly? Hurrah! Thank you Rosa.”

“You may cease thanking me at any time. I must now ask you some possibly upsetting questions. Are you prepared for that?”

“About the… bodies? Yes, I am. How awful.”

“You never encountered any other living creatures on the ship?”

“Correct.”

“Any synthetic or digital beings?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Did you have access to all areas of the ship?”

“Besides the bridge or engine room, yes. Where were the… bodies found?”

“I’ll allow the question. A central room with a computer terminal and tally scratches.”

“… my living room. This is impossible.”

“And you did not kill them, or otherwise cause them to die.”

“I did not. I would not have, and I did not.”

“What if you, say, killed them in your sleep? Please entertain the counterfactual.”

“… even if that happened, I would not say that ‘I’ killed them; my sleepwalking self did.”

“Interesting. Worry not; I do not believe you did it.”

“How did they die?”

“In my infinite generosity I will allow another question. They all received identical stab wounds to the throat. They drowned in blood. We found them with the knives lodged still in the wounds. Each one had one hand near their knife and one hand near their neighbors. The knives carry no material signature with which we could identify a wielder. Their blood was fresh. They died shortly after our cargo ship made contact, and shortly before your pod jumped.”

“Stars… I am strong, but I do not believe I could have overpowered six Terrans and killed them in such a manner.”

“Especially not in your sleep, or in so short a time. Though you remain a person of interest in their deaths, you are not a suspect.”

“I understand. Please know I do not resent you for asking.”

“Thank you, flower. Is it possible that your ship hosted compartments, rooms, or other areas unknown to you?”

“I cannot rule it out. However, my ship’s blueprints were in the library, so I am inclined to doubt it. I can only speculate.”

“Thank you. That will be enough on the deaths. I will do my utmost to unravel this mystery. I would like to wind down the interview with an easier question.”

“I would appreciate that very much.”

“However, you must answer this question to the best of your ability.”

“This does not sound like an easier question.”

“Twilight, independent sophont, ward of Rosa Rosae Third Bloom, among the newest residents of the Affini Compact and the light cruiser Crepescule , recipient of the eternal and fundamental right to be cared for and looked after: what is the best way to prepare a potato?”

---

In response to her question Rosa had received a stunningly balanced treatise on the matter of potato preparation. It was fascinating—Terran foodstuffs constituted a sizable lacuna in Rosa’s knowledge. With the verve of an improviser and the rigor of an academic, Twilight wove a tale of potato cultivation through known Terran history. Come feast, come famine, come flood and fire: save for a rough patch in the 1850s CE, Terrans always had the potato. Twilight displayed the circumspection to list benefits of different preparation methods…and the bravery to share her honest opinion. (“Waffle cut and fried, with thin extrusions of slightly-underdone fries woven through the holes, then lightly baked. This is my own invention. I will be having some tonight.”) Then, having expended her energy and worked up an appetite, she had politely left the barrier to spend time with her new hab AI and a big plate of her favorites.

The affair, while adorable, revealed more about Twilight than potatoes. She was quiet, curious, excitable, measured, and only a touch sardonic. Each fact glistened as she spoke: like she’d just learned it, or like it had become newly fresh since the last telling. In speaking, she watched her companion carefully to ensure she had spoken comprehensibly—or perhaps just in wonderment of connection. The library was going to drive her batty . She had the makings of a junior clerk, though Rosa wondered if she could handle the decades of training. Though her enthusiasm propelled her, she also tired easily. At the very least, she’d make some scholar very happy. Most importantly, Rosa learned the thing she least wanted to believe:

It was completely impossible that the woman who collapsed in the shuttle bay was Twilight.

Chapter 5

“You think she’s a pluribus?” Bernard fed grapes to his floret; his floret, meanwhile, moaned contentedly in his arms.

Rosa laid on a couch next to her friend. A few days had passed since Twilight arrived. “I cannot imagine another explanation. Twilight must be one of any number of beings residing in the same body. With the convenient way her memory is cleaved, amnesia and narcolepsy strike me as too convenient.”

“And so does plurality, doesn’t it? The poor girl presents a perfect alibi, a murder mystery, and a medical puzzle-box beyond typical affini wisdom. ‘My headmate did it?’ Goodness me. Could you not solve the matter with hypnosis?”

“Easily. I am restraining myself for obvious reasons—and do not dare try to cajole me otherwise, Bernard.” The air cooled and stilled.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Rosa.” A vine thrust another grape into Billy’s mouth, and his delighted chirps warmed the room back up.

“...when I have indulged myself in hypnosis, I have found her delightfully suggestible. She hides nothing from me. I cannot detect an iota of deception nor another presence in her mind.”

“Then perhaps there is none. She does sleep a lot.” Bernard sighed. “Yes, the captain asked you to solve this mystery. But you know , as well as I know, that they only sought to give you a problem to unravel for your own benefit.”

Rosa tapped stray moss-laden vines against the couch. “I am not so sure. I share their uneasiness.”

“Nevertheless,” Bernard preened, “as long as the sophont is happy and well, I can see no need to worry. Isn’t that right, Billy?”

The helpless Terran was so stuffed with grapes, he could scarcely move. “Mmmmmgprhh” came the sound of his assent.

Bernard grinned wickedly. “That’s a good boy. Just drop for me now, hmm?” Bernard’s vines pricked Billy’s flesh; he dissolved into an apotheosis of bliss. His drool-flecked lips fell open and his eyes rolled back. Bernard tucked him under a blanket, and rose. “Let’s head over to examine our little anomaly, hmm?”

Rosa nodded. Before she left, however, she indulged a few pets and belly rubs for the mentally obliterated twink. His collar jingled musically, but no more moans escaped his lips. “You have a lovely floret, Bernard.”

“Thank you, Rosa.” He reached an arm up and clapped her shoulder. “But science awaits! Let us away.”

---

“Twilight, my helpless and guileless shut-in, could you wake up for me please? Dr. Bernard is here to see you.” Bernard and Rosa stood outside the Terran’s outdoor sitting room; an invisible barrier kept particulates away, but sound traveled easily enough. Rosa could ring the hab AI—named Hawthorne, now—but preferred to wake her ward naturally.

A distant rustling sounded from within. “Hmmm?? Ohhh, Mi-… Rosa. Please excuse me, I will be there presently.” A short moment later, the naked woman appeared yawning and smiling. “Good… um, afternoon? And hello Bernard! Thank you for looking after me.”

“The pleasure is mine, dear Twilight.” Bernard gave a dramatic bow, stretching his rear leaves into exaggerated coat-tails. Rosa sighed—Bernard grinned. “Ah, your caretaker is irritated by my theatrics. Should I improve my behavior, Twilight?”

She giggled. “Oh please do not tease her too much, doctor. She has done so much for me!” She faced Rosa and bowed her head graciously.

Rosa sighed again. “You both may show your appreciation for me by conducting the appointment efficiently. I have citations to sort.”

Twilight and Bernard stared blankly at her. Twilight spoke: “Rosa, perhaps Bernard would tease you less if you acted in a less teasable manner.” Silence broke; Bernard collapsed howling with laughter. Twilight smiled sheepishly. Rosa rolled her eyes.

“Oh… ohh, that’s quite good,Twilight. Now please, arms up!” Bernard, still chuckling, began scanning the Terran with a small device. His pad shone readings to him in affini script. “Everything’s nominal so far. You have lost some muscle mass since arriving here, I suppose. Nothing to worry about, you’re still quite strong. Now, dear, I am going to give you a quick scan of your implant again. Please stand quite still.” Bernard drew a long thin rod from his leaves and held it level with Twilight’s pelvis. Moments later, he pulled it away. “Excellent. I cannot risk exposing you to gamma radiation in large doses, so I’m taking a tiny pixel of imaging every day. It’ll be some time before we know what’s within you; but I doubt anything we find will be as cute as the rest of you.”

Twilight had never learned to be bashful, but she blushed like any other pet. “Thank you Bernard! How kind.” She turned to Rosa. “Rosa, now that I am awake, I would like to speak with you again. Would that be alright?”

“My citations can… wait a little longer. I’ll be right in.” It was becoming difficult to refuse her.

“Well, before you two sweethearts run off, I have two delights to share with you.” Bernard clapped. “The first: we affini use a variety of substances to help our guests and pets feel better. Unfortunately, our existing concoctions don’t happen to agree with your physiology, Twilight. My assistant and I are distilling lavender into a substance that might help relieve any lingering emotional difficulties you encounter.” Bernard glanced at Rosa, and she understood: Class E drugs, effective at quelling anxiety, encouraging reflection, and managing mental state. “None of our concoctions agree with your tissue samples so far. But we will not give up!” He twirled.

“Bernard, you are very kind. However, I am very comfortable here. I do not think I will require such things?” Twilight looked worried.

“Consider it a just-in-case, then. Imagine you wake up with some of your lost memory back, and some of it was challenging to hear; these would help you approach them safely. Also, they’re a treat recreationally.” He winked conspiratorially.

Twilight beamed, all clouds leaving her face. “…I admit that sounds wonderful. Thank you Bernard.”

“The second: we’re also testing a substance that might— and I mean might— allow you to interact more with the world around you.”

At this, Twilight’s jaw dropped. Fright and wonder filled her: “You… can you cure my…”

“Hold on, hold on.” Bernard waved his hands. “Normally I would say ‘yes, flower, affini technology can do anything.’ And in nearly all cases, it can. But I must admit that your condition is too much for me to handle on my own. My mentor is on hir way from faaaaar away, and maybe ze will have more insight.”

She nodded, hopeful and concerned in equal measure. “I understand.”

“That said… until ze arrives, I’m working on something you might like. I shan’t spoil the surprise, but look forward to it. It could change everything.”

Hope won. It blossomed across her face as she bowed excitedly. “Thank you Bernard!”

“Now, be sure to ask Rosa some wonderful questions. Her floret isn’t around to occupy her, so she’s likely to spend her whole play composing bibliography.” Rosa glazed over; Bernard pressed on: “It’s your important job to remind her not to. Can you do that?”

“Yes, of course!” She turned to Rosa. “Excuse me, Rosa.”

She shook out of her reverie. “Yes?”

“Please don’t do bibliography all day!!”

Bernard stayed upright, but barely, as his howling laugh doubled him over. “G-goodness. Well, I will leave you to it. I have science to do and a floret to ravage!” He twirled and skipped away. “Ta!”

Rosa turned away from her dancing pervert friend’s exit back toward Twilight, who smiled innocently. “You have quite the wit, hmm?”

“Of course not, Rosa. I am a helpless and guileless shut-in, remember?” She giggled.

---

“Alright. Name your questions.” Rosa settled into her nook by the internal barrier. Twilight’s posture remained as polite as their first (or, perhaps second?) meeting, but her muscles had relaxed somewhat. Her crossed legs made her thighs bulge sweetly.

“First, I think Hawthorne might be broken.”

“How so? Was Hawthorne rude to you?”

“Goodness no! Hawthorne reported 900 exabytes of data in this library. That simply couldn’t be.” She frowned. “I’ve certainly found much more than my library on the ship, but mine was quite massive already: a few dozen petabytes.” Her hair waved softly over her breasts when tilted her head. “There must be a mistake. There is much wonderment here. But five orders of magnitude… must be wrong”

“Yes, that is incorrect. Well caught.” Twilight looked relieved—for a moment. “For some reason, Hawthorne’s access only extends to the Crepescule local library. After our chat I’ll make sure the Overnet connection is included. You’ll be looking at… these days, a few hundred quettabytes?”

“… quettabytes? ”

“A few hundred of them, yes.” Impressing sophonts never got old. “Roughly 10 to the 32nd power of computational bytes altogether.”

“ Sixteen orders of f-fucking magnitude more than my ship ?” She jiggled incredulously. [Editor’s note: please delete the sentence “she jiggled incredulously.”]

“Indeed. Ten short-scale quadrillions of your libraries. Of course, our curators delight in helping you find anything you might need, so do not allow the size to scare you. I can even introduce you to the Bureaucratic Database, though most of her material is…” Rosa’s core swelled and stretched, “ quite dry. ”

“…introduce… me?” Twilight reeled.

“She is a digital sophont, as sentient as you or I. And she and I are quite intimately acquainted.”

“Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom,” mumbled the distressed Terran, “you are fucking a database?”

“Now that will be enough f -words out of you for now.”

“Of course, my apologies. This is all… quite a lot.” Twilight straightened her back in her seat and paused to breathe. Rosa watched hungry curiosity overtake pained confusion. Ever-resilient, these Terrans. “May I ask a hopefully-less-mind-boggling question?”

“Of course, flower. Name your query.”

“Why are you called Rosa if you don’t have a rose?”

“Too on-the-nose.” Rosa mimed booping the middle of Twilight’s face.

“…that is all?”

“Have I boggled your mind again? The name appealed to me from bloom, but I prefer a little subtlety.” She shrugged.

“No, this is easier to imagine, thank you.” Rosa smiled. Levity returned to her voice. “It’s a good joke.”

“A joke…? Interesting.. Thank you for the insight. Next question?”

“Relatedly, um… how long have you lived on the Crepescule ?”

“From 2551 to 2557 I lived down on the surface of Umber-3. For the four years since then, and a few centuries before then, I have lived on this ship.”

“Oh, you are quite old!”

“By the standards of my species I am young and foolish, I assure you.”

“What is life on the ship like? And on the planet?”

Warmth flooded Rosa’s voice. “In broad and simplified strokes, the Crepescule is both a bustling pastoral commune and a staggeringly advanced biotechnological space-vessel. It has culture and history as long and as deep as any planetary civilization. Her soft rainbow grasses and delicate mosses echo forever in all who visit. Below us is the melting part of the universe: Umber-3’s City of Independents. An educational, artistic, and cultural haven driven by sophonts from across the known galaxies all living together in peace. I can elaborate more, but hopefully you will see them for yourself soon.”

“Gorgeousness. Thank you. I have three more questions. The first two are entirely optional, as I do not wish to bother you.”

“Please go ahead. Citations cannot annotate themselves, but nothing of import anticipates their completion.”

“Why did you leave the Crepescule? And why did you return?”

“...for a change of pace, let’s say. I can elaborate more another time.” 

“Understood. Um, second question. Bernard mentioned your floret, is she around to speak with?”

Words stopped in her mouth. Moist dew clogged her thoughts. Color leached from her mosses, receding back into a deep part of her she hoped would never give them back. Twilight caught the change with a pained look, but sat silently.

After a time, Rosa croaked: “I… must answer that question another time my dear. I apologize.”

Twilight shook her head, hair dancing everywhere. “The apology is mine. Um, my last question.”

“Yes?”

“I would like to spend some time reading here. Would you like to sit quietly with me and read?”

Color returned, despite herself. There was still simple joy in this life. After a breath, she nodded. “That sounds delightful, Twilight.”

A few days passed. It rained—that is, the weather generator ordered a few showers for florets to play in. Many who skipped and laughed in their white companion dresses came to greet Twilight by her sitting room. They gasped in awe as water struck the forcefield and rolled down the transparent surface. They spread word, and many came to greet ‘the lady in the waterfall.’

One particular group returned with particular frequency: the fluttering pink affini architect Philia Phylilia, Sixth Bloom and her three Beeple florets. (Much like Bernard’s faceblindness with Terrans, Rosa could never quite tell the soft, furry, lapdog-sized creatures apart. She kept this embarrassment, like most of her embarrassments, to herself.) The Beeple would often try to explain, in chirpy squeaks, about a certain texture they’d experienced wandering outside. They would argue over how best Twilight could emulate their experience with just her hands: “No, Twi, press your hands together for twenty three seconds, then shake them in the air!” “No no no, Twi, spit on your fingertips then whirl them in a circle!” “Absolutely not Twi, gather your hair into a thick brush and rub it against your arm!” Then Philia would them reel them in with xenodrugs and a hypnotic word. They would hang off her flesh sighing and sipping nectar while Philia asked about the hab, about Twilight, what she had learned recently. Then, the second Twilight showed even a touch of fatigue, she’d lead the group away.

Rosa watched these scenes distantly while composing her regular reports to the captain. Twilight had layered a few social skills atop her genial politeness; she was truly becoming part of the community. She’d even become a minor celebrity on the local intranet fora. But Rosa also witnessed a sadness growing in her ward’s eyes. Twilight had never touched or smelled fresh rain on grass. Whatever the Beeple described, she could only simulate it. The wave of pleasure overtaking the Beeple when Philia took control: she couldn’t feel it. She’d been content to watch the world through her texts—until the world was right in front of her. She’d confided with envy to Rosa that she had never even held a book .

Rosa shook her head in her chair, sipping Twilight’s recipe for lavender tea. It was good. Her ward’s life should be filled with more good things.

“Rosa?”

She looked up from her desk at the Terran, stark and spectral at the barrier. How could she sneak up on her so easily? “Yes, flower, what is it?”

“Has there… been any update from Bernard?” The smile reached her mouth, but not her eyes.

“You can contact him just as easily as I, petal; and you see him daily, do you not?”

“Our daily checkups are the same as ever.” The smile fell; finally, honesty. “But… he keeps saying he has a ‘surprise.’ It is becoming stressful to not know.”

“...you have stumbled upon a regrettable quirk of our mutual friend,” Rosa sighed. “No, he has not shared an atom with me about this ‘surprise.’ He simply likes to be admired, and so has adopted a flair for the dramatic. He likely wants the moment to be perfect.” Rosa stood, and began gesticulating wildly. “Ah the glistening fruits of his labor, at the end of a golden path flecked with secrecy and anticipation!” Twilight giggled, to Rosa’s satisfaction.“But his theatrics can mock as easily as they can inspire. I will ask him to, as they say, ‘cut it out.’”

“I will accept this. Thank you Rosa. I would like to,” and she bit her lip lightly, “become more proficient at communicating and requesting accommodation.”

“So are you doing, and so will you continue to. Bernard poses too great a challenge for you at the moment; I will serve as your brave knight until you can fight your own battles.” Rosa bowed, to another giggle. How sweet to please a creature in need.

Twilight attempted a deep, serious tone: “Thank you, my knight.” After a beat, they both laughed.

“Do tell me though, Twilight; have you been feeling well?”

“I have been feeling more tired of late.” Her eyes still twinkled with dancing shadows, but pale bags stretched underneath them. “I ascribe this to the library, as well as meeting people. Both invite, and demand, a high level of focus.”

“A reasonable analysis. Please continue to take naps,” Rosa urged. The sophont did sleep a great deal. Maybe she was indeed narcoleptic? Rosa had observed Twilight sleepwalking and mumbling incoherently. In those moments, biorhythm microphones detected none of Twilight’s signature peal, only the unceasing mechanical polyrhythm underneath. Another oddity to tease out. “Learning and physical labor both demand much of the body. Please be patient with yourself.”

Twilight yawned. Charmingly, she had never learned the Terran compulsion to cover her mouth. Rosa often daydreamed of sticking a vine between her teeth. “I will perhaps act on this presently. Goodnight Rosa. And thank you for everything.” That head-tilt, that smile—just too charming.

As Twilight walked to her bedroom, Rosa gave thanks for the barrier. It was simply affini nature to dote, to impress, to coddle, and to condition. But the barrier kept Rosa’s biorhythms from Twilight’s subconscious. If it wasn’t there, it’d be over. Twilight was certainly fond of Rosa, but never looked at Rosa like the florets outside did… like Billy at Bernard, Zetta at Yotta, or the Beeple at Phylia, or… or Stemphanie at her.

Every time— every time— Rosa spoke with Twilight, a screaming guilt would overshadow her thoughts afterward. How dare she enjoy herself with a sophont. How dare she speak with playful levity. Her beloved pet Stemphanie was scattered within her body, unable to speak or dance or chide or laugh or cuddle or anything anymore . What Stemphanie would have wanted for Rosa—to be joyful, clever, wry, invested—did not matter. Rosa would relent to the designs of her dear friends who knew better, but they could not control Rosa’s grieving heart. Stemphanie was dead. Rosa was alive. The friction coursed through Rosa’s body. An impossible tension. She could not ignore her ward; her culture and her instincts forbade it. But Stemphanie had breathed her last only a week ago. As punishment, then, Rosa pledged herself to private suffering in the Void Beyond All Voids where no one could see it, where no one could hear it, no one could take it from her, where all would be hidden and slip into sweet shadow until—

A crash rang out from Twilight’s hab bedroom. Rosa had dozed off; it was night. Silence, then: another crash.

“Petal??? Gina. get the lights on!”

“Yes, Mistress!”

Harsh, cold light flooded into Twilight’s hab. Rosa’s eyes darted over the monitor feeds. Nothing in the kitchen, nothing in the bedroom, nothing in—

Rosa jumped as a hab chair slammed into the invisible barrier. She turned around…

“Twilight…?”

A figure stood backlit in the hallway, heaving air into their lungs. They leaned forward on tip-toes, one foot forward and one back, calves and triceps tensed to pounce. Stanced. Ready to fight. Even through the barrier Rosa could hear a frenetic new wail guiding those always-underlying polyrhythms. No gentle peal from Twilight’s soul; instead, a raucous and insistent drumming.

“Plants, huh? The fucking plants got me?”

“Pardon?” Rosa blinked.

“You think you can keep me in here with your fucking mind-magic? I’ve trained too many days for this, weed! Nobody keeps me, and nobody beats me!” The figure charged toward the barrier.

“No, stop! You will hurt yourself! Twilight!” Rosa’s words were drowned out by a great battlecry as the figure leaped toward her, and—

thunk

“OWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” The Terran’s head collided with the barrier. She fell back on her rear. “Aaaatchahchcha.” She sucked air through her teeth. “Hey that’s not fucking fair, what is this… man…”

“Twilight, what is the meaning of this?” Rosa yelled.

“Like hell. What kinda name is Twilight? C’mon.” The Terran spat. “My NAME is- owwwww owow owo ow owow.” She kept rubbing her head: a small bump had formed, but nothing serious. Despite her concern, Rosa couldn’t resist:

“Your name is owwwww?”

“What? No. Where’dja get that idea? Fucking stupid weeds.” The figure stood grumpily, and crossed her thick arms over her breasts. “You’re looking at your worst nightmare!” She grinned and glared. Fire swirled in eyes that had once held Twilight’s gentle shadow. “You’re looking at the indomitable, the unbeatable, and the unrepeatable Dorothy the Destroyer!!!” She stuck her thumb in her chest. “I’ll kick your ass, weed! C’mon, let’s go!”

Chapter 6

Silence and silence and silence again filled the corridor between Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom and–apparently–Dorothy the Destroyer. Rosa held it together for as long as she could; then she burst out laughing.

“H-hey! What’s so funny! I’m stronger than anybody!”

“F-forgive me my dear, ah, Dorothy. Hoo dear.” Dew-flecks trickled down the sides of her mask. “Dorothy, there is an invisible barrier between us. I could not reach you if I wanted to.”

“O-oh. Is that what I hit my head on?” Dorothy scratched her bump, wincing.

“Yes. It is also what the chair you threw bounced off, a fact you seemed to ignore.”

“Hey!” Dorothy pouted and puffed up her chest. “It was the heat of the battle! And I just, lost track of things! It happens!”

“Does it now?”

“And! You have mind powers or whatever! So this isn’t even a fair fight!”

“Mind… powers?” Oh by the Stars Above this was beyond adorable.

“Yeah! You get in people’s heads and make them do stuff!” She scowled. “I heard about it on… some, TV maybe? do I have a TV?”

“You do not have a television, though one can be provided for you.”

“Hey, thanks!… HEY WAIT!” This was simply too precious. Dorothy continued ranting: “You’re just gonna put supl-... s-subli-… supplements in it! Hmph.” Dorothy turned away dramatically. From over her shoulder came her threatening words: “You can’t fool me, weed!”

“Dorothy, by ‘mind-powers’ do you perhaps mean hypnosis?”

“Yeah! Like tha-” Dorothy turned around into Rosa’s trap.

Out from behind her mask floated all ten of Rosa’s eyes. They flashed menacingly, invitingly, soothingly—glistening with ochre glow. They wove a spiral pattern across her head as her mask floated forward towards her victim. Rosa wove hypnotic suggestion into every motion, every twinkle of every facet of her crystals. “What a good girl, Dorothy. Just keep your eyes on me, okay? There, there. ” Even without xenodrugs, Rosa had occasionally adjusted Twilight’s mood with hypnosis—all for her benefit of course, not for sport. She’d even unintentionally drawn Twilight into trance with a fraction of this intensity. How nice it was to not hold back anymore. Silly Terran. Dorothy would be under her spell in moments, Rosa would contact Bernard, all would be w—

“Hey, you don’t have a face. That’s just a mask. Is that weird for you? It would be weird for me.”

Dorothy was staring inquisitively at her, completely unfazed. Rosa blinked, then returned her eyes behind the mask.

“Yeahhh, it’s just kind of floating there. I thought you guys had faces?”

What had??? Just happened??? Completely no effect???

“Look I’m still gonna beat you up and stuff, that just seems like it’d be hard.” Dorothy brought her hands behind her neck, and jumped from foot to foot casually.

“…well, Dorothy, there will be no mind powers. You appear to be completely immune to hypnosis.”

“I am? Yes!!!” She gave a full, toothy grin. “That’s ‘cause I’m so smart, right? And trained too good?”

“…we can go with that, yes.”

“Woo-hoo!!! Okay, can we fight now?”

“I am not typically one for fighting, but I do have some questions for you, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“No!!” Rage returned to Dorothy’s face. “You trapped me here! The walls were too tough for the chair to break! I wanna go back to my ship!”

“… and what kinds of things did you do on the ship?”

“Trained every day!” she boasted. “Most days anyway. Micrograv’ll do a number on ya if you don’t. And I gotta stay tough to beat up plant bastards like you!”

“And what did you eat?”

“Oh, lots of synthcubes and potatoes!”

“How did you prepare the potatoes?”

“...prepare? Like, cook? The vending machine would just give me whatever.”

Vending machine? It’s a replicator . “And you were alone on the ship?”

“Just me and my dog!” Dorothy’s voice became deadly serious. “You didn’t fucking hurt my dog, did you? I’ll kill everyone on this ship if you did.”

“Dog?” There had been no other living thing on the ship than the Terran. "Affini do not hurt, ah, ‘animals.’ It would be ‘dishonorable.’” Rosa struggled to remember Terra’s arcane beliefs about sentience and combat. “We… rescued every living being on board your ship.”

“Okthankgoodnessbecausethatwouldreallybummeout.” Dorothy looked genuinely relieved.

“Does that make me the first person you’ve ever met, Dorothy?”

She scoffed. “You’re not a person! You’re an evil plant guy!”

Rosa chuckled. “Right, of course. My mistake.”

“Just don’t make it again.” Dorothy pressed her fists together. “Come on, let’s go. I won’t answer any questions, even if you ask nicely!!”

“Right, of course. May I explain a few things about your current situation?”

“I SAID NO QUESTIONS!!” Dorothy reeled back and threw a punch that landed… right on the invisible barrier. “OWOWOWWOWOWOWOW fuck fuck fuck shit shit auuuugh okay okay right. Invisible wall.” Was she always like this?

“…so, Dorothy,” Rosa found the simplest words slowly and carefully. “You are on an affini ship called the Crepescule , in orbit above the planet Umber-3. You are not a prisoner. You are actually very sick. Your body is allergic to everything. If I came in there to fight you, you would die from breathing the air around me. We rescued you from a ship where something quite bad had happened. My name is Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom. Please call me that instead of ‘fucking weed.’ Terrans are generally misinformed about who the affini are and what we do. Please try to keep an open mind. You have a repl-… vending machine , and a bed, and all the entertainment you could want, and our ve-… doctor is working to cure your condition. Above all: you are safe, and I am here to help you.”

Dorothy kept her arms crossed and eyes narrowed, but listened to the speech intently. After a time, she spoke. “How can I trust you?”

“…I swear it.” An oath might work?

“On what?” Dorothy spat. Rosa wracked her brains, searching desperately for something this new person, Twilight’s headmate, would understand and could relate to. Something they both held dearly…

Ah.

Rosa bowed. “I swear on… my pet. Who passed away last week, and whom I miss very dearly.”

In the silence Rosa felt Dorothy’s rhythms slow, then reach toward her. “Oh man I’m sorry. I was just…talking about my dog like it was nothing. I didn’t know.” She grimaced. “I can tell you’re not lying about that. Even though you don’t have a face. Which is pretty weird.”

“I suppose it is.”

“…anyway, uh, you said that this place had everything, but there’s something I’m gonna need if I’m going to hang out here and like, cooperate and stuff.”

“I can arrange that; what do you need?”

“I need a dogbed, and I need some weights.” She felt her biceps. “I’m shriveling up here. I gotta get my reps in.”

Rosa nodded. “Of course. This replicator is a touch too small, so your necessities will be shipped over tomorrow. The doctor can explain more about the situation as well.”

“...hey, pl- uhh, Rosa.”

“Yes?”

Dorothy grinned. “Try to keep up. It’s called a vending machine.”

---

“Daaaaang that’s my blood just going fuckin’ crazy huh?” By next morning Twilight had not returned; luckily, Dorothy and Bernard seemed to be getting along well.

“Indeed, my dear! A horror and wonder of xenoveterinary science, in such a delightful package as well,” Bernard cooed. Dorothy chuckled with pride.

After a moment, she looked Bernard up and down. “Hey doc, I just wanted to say, I really appreciate the faggy vibe you’ve got goin’ on.”

“DOROTHY!” Rosa protested, but Bernard was already screaming with laughter.

“Nonono!” Dorothy waved her hands. “Genuinely it rules. Is there a better way to say that? Aw dangit.” She pouted.

“I w-w-would recommend you not phrase it quite like that to people you do not know. However,” Bernard twirled and landed, “I happen to enjoy ‘flaming’ and ‘flitting’ about and such things.”

“Ok cool! That’s cool doc.” She cheered up fast. For someone unhypnotizeable, she was awfully impressionable. “Like Rosa’s got the whole nerd thing going on, but you’re like a fag nerd. It’s nice.”

Rosa rolled her eyes while Bernard recovered: “Heeheee…. your observation has reminded me, my dear; do you have pronouns you prefer above others?” He aimed his scanning device while Dorothy pondered.

“Pronouns?” She furrowed her brow. “Is that like… uh, I’m a girl, aren’t I?” Twilight would have tilted her head in confusion, but Dorothy’s neck kept straight upright.

“Only if you want! And girls can prefer any number of means of address. In point of fact, your body has transitioned before. You have a vulva, clitoris, and ovaries, where you previously held a penis and testes.”

“I HAD A… PEEPEE????” Dorothy’s eyes bulged; after a moment, she stared down to the floor.

“It is naught to be ashamed of, my dear.” Bernard mimed patting her shoulder—she shook her head.

“No, it’s just…” she mumbled, staring off into a corner. “…that sounds cool.”

“Oh! Well, perhaps we can have a look at that sometime!” Bernard smiled reassuringly. “In any case, I’ll use she/her until you say otherwise, okay?”

“Sure thing, doc!” Lo, she was reassured; the clouds left her expression.

Rosa had broached the concept of plurality overnight with Dorothy; it had gone surprisingly well. “I guess sometimes a girl is two girls, huh?” She did lament her headmate being “a fuckin’ nerd,” but also admitted it was “probably good for someone else to do that stuff.” Like Twilight, she never thought much about losing time or waking up in different places; she simply kept to the things she liked doing. Four years of quiet, convenient living… until four days ago.

Rosa wondered about the role each might be filling in the system (protector? analyst?) and, more importantly, how each of them felt about their assigned roles. No one deserves to live only by immutable destiny—that was as much true for alters (who share the same body) as singlets (who have a body to themselves). Rosa had already witnessed Twilight’s burgeoning yearning for life outside her station; and while Dorothy seemed content with her training, real fighting was out of the question in the Affini Compact. If these two strayed from their paths, how would the whole system respond?

Rosa shook her head. First, she must broach the subject with Twilight, then initiate contact between the two. And to get there, she had to handle this… situation.

“Oh doc, how is my dog doing?”

“Your…” Bernard shot a glance to Rosa, who tilted her mask downwards in grimace. “…dog, yes. Dorothy, my dear, could you describe your canine for me?”

“Y’know! He’s like…” Dorothy frowned. “He’s uh, he’s like orange? He’s an orange dog. Uh, Pumpkin! Yeah.”

“An orange dog named… Pumpkin. Yes. I will check with my associate and report back to you shortly. Unrelatedly, are you worried at all about your memory issues, my dear?”

“Huh?”

“You cannot remember anything before the ship, can you?”

“…no?”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not really. Is it supposed to?”

“Not necessarily. And, sorry to ask, you’re always telling me the truth, right?”

“Well yeah! It wouldn’t be honorable to lie anyway! Right?”

“Right. Last thing: you never encountered any other living being on your ship?”

“Just Pumpkin!”

“Fabulous. Well, I will return soon with news. Please do not overstress yourself, but enjoy your workout.”

“Yessss. Thanks doc!” She hurried away from the outdoor sitting room; grunts of effort echoed from the living area a short time later.

Bernard turned to Rosa. “You told the poor thing we had her canine?”

“Of course not. I merely… implied we did.” Rosa’s mosses sagged. “We had a tense negotiation; it was necessary to assuage her without xenodrugs or hypnosis.”

He pressed the bridge of the leaves that suggested a nose. “And Twilight never mentioned a dog?

“No. We must consider a third headmate, no?” 

“That would be preferable to the alternative, yes.”

“The alternative?”

Bernard stared blankly toward Rosa, then to the soft grass above the ship’s deck. “...that, in some compartment unknown to Twilight and shielded by some kind of molecular-printed barrier, Dorothy kept six emaciated and distressed humans as a pet; that, to Dorothy, these six persons appeared to be a single entity known as ‘Pumpkin’; and that, before the system left the ship, some other headmate used their body’s superior strength to kill these creatures.”

Soft wind blew across the grass. “Bernard, that is-”

“-likely not the case. So I will not worry about it, and neither will you!” He smiled and bowed. “I simply must go back to my project and my Billy.” He waved farewell.

“Before you go…” Rosa’s shoulder vines grasped his hand. “Please ease up on the ‘surprise’ talk with Twilight. She has grown anxious with anticipation. Tell her honestly where you are at with the project.”

“Oh goodness. Forgive me, Rosa. I got carried away.” He squeezed Rosa’s vines. “I will apologize to the sophont.”

“And you will tell her—and me—the nature of the project and its current state of completion?”

“Happily, I won’t have to. I will bring it with me tomorrow.”

“Ah! Well done. What is it?”

“Though I will endeavor to never again hide such information from Twilight, and will extend this kindness to her headmate,” he slipped out of Rosa’s grasp delicately, “I offer no such promise to you, my friend. You will find out tomorrow.” He winked.

“You are incorrigible, Bramblewood.”

“And are so grateful to know me, Rosae.” He twinkled his twiggy fingers. “Ta!” He skipped away to the sweet music of Rosa’s groans.

She checked Hawthorne’s feed on her pad; Dorothy was indeed ‘pumping iron,’ making whooshing sounds, and otherwise enjoying herself. ‘Pumpkin’ could wait a while longer. Rosa planned to return home in the early evening, and set off on errands for now.

---

The Crepescule’s rainbow grasses stretched out before Rosa’s ambling gait. Laughter, distant chatter, and the echoing music of biorhythmic symphony filled her ears. Before long she stood before Philia’s residence and knocked upon the door.

“Cominggg!” her airy voice sang. Shortly, the hab hatch burst open. “Well, by my blooms, Rosa Rosae! Welcome, please come in!” Philia Phylilia, Sixth Bloom, wore a Terran apron atop her red-flecked white lotuses and pink cherry blossoms. Her three Beeple, furry and soft and each a foot across, suckled contentedly at her lush chest. She waved Rosa in with a soft smile.

“My thanks, Philia. Have you encountered any interesting architecture projects since we last spoke?”

“Always work with you, isn’t it?” Trestles of rich red blossoms lead them into a paradise of flowers: her sitting room.

“Come now; scholarship is my art, as architecture is yours! We can hardly call it work.”

“I suppose so.” They settled on a loveseat carved from a supple bush. “To answer: no, not since your new ward’s hab. I have been passing my time with my beloveds.” She laced dark green vines over each of her pets, who moaned and wiggled in delight.

“Time with florets is time well spent.” Rosa nodded. “Speaking of my ward, I came to inform you and your pets that she is, in point of fact, a pluribus.”

“Oh!! How exciting!! Isn’t that wonderful, darlings?” Though her Beeple remained greedily attached to her, a they offered a few nods of assent and affirmative chirps. “More friends means more fun.”

“Indeed. However: the exact number of headmates, the memories they share, and their awareness of plurality remain mysteries. Thus far, we’ve met Twilight and Dorothy; a ‘Pumpkin’ may also exist. I will update an Overnet record with everything I know. In the meantime, I must ask your florets to be cautious and gentle around her. You may arrive only to find her disoriented, confused, or not who you expect her to be.”

“Oh, I will keep them in line, Rosa.” A wicked glint overtook Philia’s smile. “Isn’t that right, darlings?”

Like clockwork, all three Beeple rose from Philia’s nectar and faced their queen and goddess.

“““Yes, Mistress Phylilia!”””

“Good pets. Very, very good pets.” All three fell into absolute bliss under Philia’s scritches.

“Thank you. I still need to meet the captain, so I had best be on my way.”

“Rosa, a moment.” Philia’s face became suddenly serious.

“Philia?” Rosa sat still as Philia inched closer. Her sweet nectar’s electric scent filled her senses. She was close, very close. Then closer. Then much closer. She pressed into Rosa from every direction, and her voice dripped with honey:

“Here. Relax with them a moment.”

“Hm!?”

Philia pulled away, but her three nectar-drunk pets had latched onto Rosa’s chest. They nuzzled, licked, suckled, lost themselves in her soft mosses.

“No, the captain did not put me up to this.” The question hadn’t yet formed in Rosa’s mind; she was too entranced by the three beautiful florets. “You are still centuries young; you are not yet practiced in grief.” She smiled, but her voice was everywhere. “The captain was wise to give you a task to focus on. However, in my view, you are too prone to losing yourself in ‘work.’ Therefore, you will spend a short while simply petting these florets and enjoying their company. Won’t you?”

The lights of Rosa’s eyes had nearly dimmed away, but after a few moments they roared back behind her mask. “You… are right. Thank you.” She looked down at her friend’s florets for a silent moment. “…I will please them mercilessly.” Waves of vines shot from Rosa’s shoulders and began scritching and prodding the Beeple’s bodies and they cried out in ecstasy and Rosa doubled her efforts almost immediately and Philia’s laughs joined the symphony of pleasure. How good it was to own; how good it was to control ; how good it was to delight a helpless creature far beyond their wildest imagination.

An hour later and only slightly disheveled, Rosa took her leave. The longings of her heart settled into a manageable configuration. How good it was to relax .

---

“Late again, Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom?” Rosa was, in point of fact, usually quite punctual—and the Captain, in point of fact, usually was not. From their desk, their clovers stood stiff and rigid against their lush undergrowth.

“My apologies, Captain.”

“From now on, you will only be late when you have an excellent reason.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“And what was your reason this time, then?”

“…I was petting some helpless florets until their minds were frayed like lost wilts joining rich topsoil.”

“THAT...” shouted the Captain, who reared up and flung every clover toward Rosa, and wrapped her mosses in boundless green, and who after a few moments reformed herself behind Rosa in a gentle embrace, “…is good. I am glad. Please be late more often.”

“I will try, Yotta.”

“Now, my friend,” Yotta patted her shoulders. “Any news from our little mystery?”

“I have composed nightly reports with daily additional memoranda since she arrived.”

“Yes, yes.” Yotta waved dismissively. “But how is she?”

Rosa sighed. “First pluribus Twilight adjusted rapidly to her new arrangement. She has found great joy in our library and in other residents of the ship. Her role in the system appears to be knowledge acquisition. But a new longing grows in her: to experience more than her condition allows. Bernard has crafted some tool to alleviate this need. She does not yet know she is plural, does not share memories with anyone else, and in my estimation did not commit murder.

“Second pluribus Dorothy also adjusted rapidly to her new arrangement, though much less gracefully than Twilight. She grew more relaxed after lifting-weights were added to her hab. She is responsible for maintaining the physical strength of the system and readiness for combat. She does not seem to chafe against her role; but she only revealed herself last night. She now knows she is plural, does not share memories with anyone else but may share awareness with a possible third pluribus, demonstrates a surprising resilience to hypnosis, and in my estimation did not commit murder.

“Possible third pluribus Pumpkin is possibly a canid and possibly orange.”

Yotta scratched her chin and nodded. “What’s your plan for intrasystem recognition?”

“Dorothy has left a video message, which I will play for Twilight under careful supervision when she next wakes. I hope to encourage system members to leave notes to each other. Once they are prepared, I intend to instruct them in the use of holographic projection. Each headmate would construct a virtual avatar; in the tradition of Terran puppet therapy, the headmates could thus speak to each other freely in realtime. Our goal is not integration into a single persona, of course; instead, I would seek to cultivate memory-sharing, co-fronting, “hallucinated” projection of headmates into physical space, and personal growth beyond any assigned roles they may have been born to fulfill.”

“Excellent. You’re the perfect ones for the job.” Yotta glowed with pride.

A blush flashed underneath Rosa’s mask, quickly hidden. “One, thank you. I merely hope I can aid these pets in finding each other.”

“I take it you have no leads on the deaths in the third ship?”

“No, Yotta. These alters have never lied to me, nor could they hide anything if they tried; however, if they have no knowledge or memory of a matter, they cannot know whether they are speaking the truth.”

“Dorothy can resist hypnotism, though. Can you really be sure they can’t hide things from you?”

“In all the records of the Crepescule, has a Terran ever been able to hide the fact they are lying?”

“In all the records in the universe, has a Terran ever been such a medical oddity as this one?”

Their eyes locked; then Rosa looked away. “I ask you to trust me.”

“I do!” Yotta smiled and patted their friend’s shoulder. “I'm just making sure. Please know I still think the world of you, Rosa.”

“Yes, I know. Forgive my prickliness.”

“You feel pretty smooth to me.”

Another embrace. They both chuckled wanly.

“Last question.” Yotta paused. “Have there been any… signs of that presence you first witnessed? I heard the biorhythm recording… that terrible noise.” They shuddered.

“No.”

“That is… good. Please alert me of any updates, and keep looking after yourself. And letting others look after you, of course.” Yotta returned to sit at her desk; faintly, Rosa heard Zetta’s moan under Yotta’s weight.

A buzz rang inside Rosa’s arm. She pulled out her pad. “Well, allow me to give a first update: after a short post-workout nap, Twilight is awake.”

“Well hurry home then. And, good luck Rosa.” As Rosa left, Yotta shook her head and mumbled. “May the Everbloom watch over us.”

---

“M- ah, Rosa? What are these?” Twilight pointed to the weightlifting set Dorothy had left (quite messily) in the middle of the living room. Her face bore a faraway anxiety; her tiredness coated a layer of fear. “I do not remember their arrival.”

“Yes, well…” Rosa shifted tensely in her nook-seat. Her ward looked to her with confidence and trust. “They arrived while you were asleep.”

“Ahh!” Cheer spread across her face; she clapped once. But the strain did not leave her voice. “I must have sleptwalked. Sleepwalked? A matter for another time.” She tilted her head.

“No, not quite, Twilight.” Rosa thought to reinforce her words hypnotically, but couldn’t risk Twilight going under. She had to understand with all layers of her consciousness. “I must explain something challenging.”

“Oh, a mystery, then?” The human’s hands, united from one clap, kept pressing into each other. Force built between them. “I have read such things in the library.”

“Not quite again, Twilight.” No xenodrugs for this? Rosa’s vines itched. “Are you familiar with the concept of… no. No, I will play you the video first. Hawthorne, if you would?”

On the blank wall to Twilight’s right appeared a black rectangle, then a flash of light, then… someone using Twilight’s body to talk.

“Heyyyy Tri-… Twilight, was it? Dang, you’re looking great, huh? Haaahaha. The name’s Dorothy. The Destroyer! I was on the ship with you all those years keepin’ us nice and ripped . Yeah, I’m not just your roommate, but a head…mate! That’s a good one, we should keep that. Uh, I didn’t know about you, I just kinda did my thing and then fell asleep and woke up by that boring desk and was like ‘oh man I gotta do pull-ups’ and then I’d go do pull-ups. And I’d hang out with Pumpkin! Damn I bet Pumpkin loved you. Uh, yeah I just wanted to say hey. The big nerd and the fag nerd say it’d be good for us to leave messages for each other, so… maybe someday we can talk one-on-one? But don’t worry. I know my job. I’m looking out for us 100% of the time, ready to punch whatever gets in our way. Except when I’m asleep. In which case it’s all you. But it’s your body too! So… yeah, you should be set. I’ll uh see you later! Bye Twilight!”

Dorothy’s voice rang out in the now dead-silent hab. Twilight’s profile had drained of color.

Rosa spoke: “Dorothy recorded that a few hours ago, Twilight. She’s your-”

“A dog. I had a dog.” She blinked and chose a corner of the hallway to stare holes into. Both pupils dilated to pinpoints; tears trickled only from the left. “How did I forget? That I. Had a dog.”

“Twilight, I would ask you to take deep breaths with me.”

“I had a dog, an… orange. Dog. How did I forget?” Her head wove figure-eights as her breathing grew more ragged. “I would not forget something like that. I would never forget something like that.” Rosa watched the full force of that unlidded gaze flick toward her mask. “You… you did something. What did you do.”

“Twilight, I have never once entered your hab, I-”

“Your eyes. Your eyes your eyes. Your eyes.” Hers narrowed. Shaking timbres, rhythms collapsing. “I knew I felt strange after talking to you sometimes. What did you do to me.”

“Twilight, pl-”

“ WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME !” In an instant Twilight slammed against the barrier. Fingers scrabbled toward Rosa’s mask. All the light in the room seemed to shoot out of her furious eyes. The skin on her breasts and knees flattened against the invisible barrier; forces seemed to press on her from every angle. “ WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME, ROSA!” And suddenly the noise, the horrible noise. Twilight’s peal faltered as it crescendoed up from the cacophony.

“Twilight, enough!!” Rosa threw hypnotic influence at Twilight to… no effect. The barrier seemed to bulge out towards her. She could do nothing. She, an affini, could do nothing .

“ I TRUSTED YOU, ROSA!” her voice grew horrible. “ AND THIS IS- THI- glk -”

Twilight fell back from the barrier. The crash knocked the wind out of her. She clutched her neck. She tried to pull shallow breath towards out of her, faster and faster, but the air wouldn’t come. Those polyrhythms drowned the clanging noise and wailing bell alike.

Her throat was closing up. She couldn’t breathe. Twilight was dying .

Chapter 7

“ HAWTHORNE! INJECTION! NOW! ” Rosa’s voice was three voices, their phases distorted by sheer booming volume, peaking and ringing and clattering over every surface in the hab units. Milliseconds later, a thin wire dropped from the ceiling and bit into Twilight’s thigh. Three, long, seconds. Then it pulled away.

Epinephrine. Antihistamine. Some of Twilight’s own adrenaline and corticosteroids—re-synthesized and stored just in case.

Twilight’s polyrhythms grew softer and slower, but remained steady. She lay there breathing. The injection site grew red and angry and then slowly faded. Her heart’s weak peal sang again, dully. After a time lying there, just breathing, she propped herself up, and looked across the barrier.

Most of Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom’s mosses had collapsed on the floor. Her vines lay limp. A rough skeleton of spindly branches held upright around her sobbing ochre heart. Any life that still clung to Rosa wept sparking dew: down her core, down her branches, down her head, down the crevasses of her mask.

“R-… Rosa?” Twilight’s voice.

Rosa cried silently.

“Rosa, it is okay.” Twilight smiled and crawled back to the barrier. “I am, okay. I am not dying today. You saved me”

Rosa collapsed toward the barrier with a thud. She hung there, pressed against thin air, eyes drooping and flickering. Low moans escaped her. Twilight inched closer until she was right next to her ward-keeper.

“I am sorry Rosa.” Twilight’s words were deliberate, measured, and kind. “The idea of not being in control of myself was- is-…” she looked away.

Three voices laced toward Twilight’s ears from Rosa’s core: different speeds, different intonations, different vocabulary. “<Precious/precocious> <pet/creature> <i/i/i> <could not/failed to> <keep you safe/defeat you> <should be/would> <catatonic/alive/dreaming> <in our vines/under our needles/around our core> <powerless/non-being/finite/safe/whole> <far from> <loss/death/pain> <fear/want/grief> <grief/grief/grief>.”

The voices drizzled wispily. Twilight heard Rosa’s biorhythm for the first time: echoing warmth, whip-crack staccato gauzed under delay, muffled envelopes breaking open into crystal tones, patterns upon patterns like a galaxy in a marble in an ocean of marbles click-clackering on a rainy evening.

A bang in the distance. “Rosa? Twilight? Gina, let me in.” Bernard came, turned the corner. “Oh, shit . Err, dirt. Okay. Twilight, I need you to tell me if the injection is working.” He grabbed Rosa’s mosses and laid padding around her core. The song dampened away. Twilight blinked and understood. Rosa hadn’t lied. This was real.

“Yes, Bernard.”

“Did your molecular printer give you something off?” (Twilight heard a rumble from Rosa, something like “isha rpelcator .”)

“No. Rosa showed me a video. After that, I panicked. Then, I had a reaction.”

“Panic-induced anaphylaxis? Goodness.” He grunted. He wrapped sopping moss around Rosa’s front. “I’ll– urgh –throw that in your chart. But, yes, Twilight, you share your body with others.” He started combing her undergrowth grasses. “You are a rare kind of sophont: a member of a pluribus.” He finally looked up and smiled reassuringly. “We will help you and Dorothy meet. Soon. Rosa here just needs some rest. There’s hardly anything more terrifying to an affini than a suffering pet, and… Rosa just lost her first floret a week ago.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Lost… a… week?”

“Indeed. Wonderful creature, Stemphanie. Precious to her. She made Rosa’s mask; it’s the only face she’s ever had. While I’m surprised she hadn’t told you, but I do wish she had.” He heaved Rosa standing with great effort.

Twilight sat up. She hadn’t considered her friend enough. How could she have accused her? The shame rose. She pushed down the shame. It was not time for shame. “I understand now. While Rosa recovers, I will endeavor to reach out to… ah, Dorothy.” She shivered. “Um, Bernard?”

“Yes, darling?” Gina deployed metallic arms to help Rosa to her bedroom; Bernard gave Twilight his full attention.

“Is there a chance that I…” and, though she tried to be strong, tears overtook her, “…killed those people?”

Bernard crouched down in front of the barrier and mimed drying a tear. “No, dear. You didn’t.”

“But—!”

“You did not kill those people. Neither did Dorothy.” Even without hypnotic weight, the words soothed Twilight instantaneously. Glimmers of peace reached her heart once more. “Even if someone inside you—and this is looking unlikely at best—did the killing, that wasn’t you .” He pointed and grew serious. “You are your own person, Twilight. What you do, you do, and what you do not do, you do not do. Your system must learn to talk to each other, that you may learn to bear responsibility together for what your hands have done. But you, and only you, get to decide who you are. Your body is shared; your life is your own.”

The tears sprung up again: gratitude, gratitude. “Thank you, Bernard.”

He smiled and again mimed wiping them. “Of course, darling. Rosa will be fine in the morning, and I’ll arrive with a present a little later. Take a moment, then try to record something for Dorothy.”

“Yes, Bernard! Thank you Bernard.” From her seated position she could only half-bow; he stood and answered with a full graceful dip of his own.

“Well. Toodles!” He skipped away. Twilight breathed alone on the floor and imagined sharing her life with others.

---

Rosa woke slowly. One after another, her crystal eyes greeted the day. They swirled formlessly, no mask to hide them. She thought… when did I get… here…

She bolted upright screaming. “TWILIGHT!”

“Now now, the girl is fine. I ensured it.” A voice flitted around the room from… where… inside her? She looked down.

“Bernard, get out of my mosses this instant!!”

“Oh but you’re soooo comfortable to sink into.” Bernard had phased part of his body inside Rosa’s belly, and seemed to be taking a nap of his own. He sighed. “You must learn to have fun more often.”

“Bernard, now is not the time. What about Twilight, is she…? Did I…?”

Bernard snapped his twigs and Gina flicked on a screen where a figure stood in the night:

“Hello, D-dorothy. My name is Twilight. I am very pleased to meet you. I am also… a little scared. My solitude on the ship felt safe, but it was not solitude at all, I suppose? Because you and… Pumpkin were there. I had forgotten about Pumpkin, can you imagine that? My dear, dear Pumpkin… I… sniff , I-I cannot do this…”

Twilight started to cry, and her screen froze. A second screen flicked on: night had become mid-morning.

“Twilight, what’s up!! Wow, you really are a nerd. I’m surrounded by nerds, haha! But, uh, nerds make great company. Look, you know more about this than me probably, but brains and souls are all real real weird, and memory is like… it’s like, if your brain is a cake, then memory is a frosting. Maybe? Wait, what’s a cake? I’ve never had cake. Can we make potato cake? Wait you’re crying, fuck, I’m sorry. Uh, I don’t know how to… help calm you down yet. But I promise I will figure it out! Yeah!... are we, uh good?”

One screen froze, the other returned: midday now.

“I am sorry to worry you. I am not used to having strong reactions. I will be alright. To answer your question, yes, Terran Jewish tradition involved small potato cakes called ‘latkes.’ We cannot metabolize all the ingredients, but I will try to synthesize a copy, let me see… oh, how fast. The fried texture on the wide surface is delightful… oh, but these would be so much better with toppings . Still… oooh, these are good! I have left some in the stasis unit for you to try, c-could you… let me know what you think?”

One screen froze, the other returned: still midday, only a few hours later.

“You like to eat!! Oh man I LOVE to eat food is so fuckin’ good. Do you ever get bored of potatoes? I don’t. Even just give me some chips or fries. Better than the synthcubes! But yeah let me try these… oh YEAHHHHHHH that’s good. Maybe this is why you read books! So you can tell me about food! Haha… thanks for, uh, sharing that with me. If you feel like trying some… ok this feels stupid but, like try giving yourself a handshake later, but like your left arm is your arm but like your right arm is MY right arm? Does that make sense? I give firm handshakes though so don’t skimp out on it! Let me know how it goes.”

“Oh goodness your grip is strong! It is nice to meet you ‘in person.’ As in, we are in a person, and it is the same person!”

“That’s terrible! Haha! But it’s nice to meet you too!”

The recordings continued as Bernard explained: “After you collapsed, I had a good talk with Twilight. She’s perfectly healthy, don’t worry, and she doesn’t think you ‘did anything’ to her. She was simply frightened. She and Dorothy have been trading short naps, short messages, and lots of food all day. They are not ready to co-front, nor can they speak in real-time yet. Nevertheless, they’ve made remarkable progress speaking to each other through video journals. Mid-afternoon they finally settled down for a longer sleep. They’ll likely rise shortly. I came here to wake you , to wake them , and also to deliver my present.”

Rosa set her mask on her head with calm breaths. Twilight was fine . Dorothy was fine. Her ward was fine. “I am… quite embarrassed to have lost my composure last night. I apologize.”

“I will happily drag your mosses up off the dirt anytime, my friend.” They embraced. “Now, you will be unhappy with me, but I did explain to Twilight that you had lost Stemphanie recently.”

“Bernard, no—”

“Ah ah ah. Grief is not to be borne alone. Silence has reduced, not increased, your ability to care for your ward. You must be more honest with her.” He wagged a finger.

Rosa hung her head. “Fine. I accept the ‘wages of sin,’ the cost for my indiscretion.”

“Oh, ‘lighten up’ Rosae.” He laughed; she joined him.

Gina piped up. “Mistress Rosa, Master Bernard? Hawthorne informs me the Terrans are stirring quite cutely! They appear to be Twilight.”

“Delightful.” Bernard dragged Rosa from the bed. “We will meet her outside. Won’t we, Rosa?”

Rosa adjusted her glasses. “We will, Bernard.”

Moments later, the tired sophont joined them in the outdoor sitting room. She rubbed sleep from her eyes. She was surprisingly relaxed. “Good, ah… evening, Rosa, and Bernard.” She yawned, open-mouthed.

Rosa twitched a little. “Twilight, I am glad you are well. I apologize for abandoning you in your time of need.”

Twilight’s gaze was calm, steady, and untensed. “Rosa Rosae, I have become well acquainted with affini arrogance.” She smiled. “But I cannot accept your apology.”

Rosa’s core sank, but Twilight continued:

“This is not a standard wardship, I have come to understand. If I am hurt, you cannot heal me; if I wail, you cannot hold me; if I panic, you cannot soothe me. This goes against everything you value about being an affini. You must forgive yourself for these limitations.”

Rosa blinked. What…

“I will not apologize for being weak, for being human, or being afraid. I will not apologize for my medical condition or the strange vicissitudes of my spirit. But, I leveled an accusation at you and breached your trust. I threw myself at you in rage; I allowed myself to forget all you have done for me… for us. The only apology tonight will be mine.” She bowed deeply. “I am so sorry, Rosa.”

“I… of course accept, Twilight.”

“Do not ‘of course’ me, affini.” Twilight rose and laughed. “Forgiveness is a miracle. Thank you.”

“Well spoken, Twilight.” Bernard cut in. “Now would you stop being quite so precious and raise your arms for me?”

“’Of course,’ Bernard!” She laughed, he laughed…

…and soon, Rosa laughed too. “Twilight, flower, how have your conversations with Dorothy proceeded?”

“Quite well!” Her shadows danced. “I am exhausted, of course. Dorothy and I share much in common. She’s quite the conversationalist— in her way. We cannot quite share memories yet, but we can almost… pass the baton to each other, now. It’s like the world is starting to… re-color, a bit?” She looked down at herself. “A strange calm has overtaken me. I feel more like myself than I have ever been, despite doing things my ‘self’ would never have done. At the very least, I am less afraid.”

“I am quite proud,” Rosa beamed. “Your mastery grows.”

“Mastery, hmm? Is intrasystem communication a martial art, then?”

“Not martial, perhaps, but an art like any other.”

“And would you call yourself a master, Rosa Rosae?” The shadows roared playfully.

“We are all students under the Everbloom.” Rosa bowed deeply, mockingly—and let a blinking eye wander to the back of her head-moss. “But I know a fair bit about the matter, and we’ll leave it at that.”

“I understand,” Twilight laughed. “Thank you for your training.”

“And thank you for your patience, dearest Twilight.” Bernard pulled his scanner away and stood. “Both for your appointments, and for my misguided love of surprises. I will no longer hold any secret from you for its own sake.”

“Will you prove it, dear Bernard?” Twilight’s confidence had grown; this was the exact kind of playful repartée Bernard and Rosa had grown up doing.

“I will. While you slept, the item was placed via airlock into your hab. Please retrieve it and bring it to the internal barrier; it is particularly special under light.” He winked.

All of her clever composure fell away. “Eeeeee okay please meet me there!”

Moments later, back inside, Twilight poked her head down the hallway at the two seated affini. “Bernard, what is this? I was expecting an injection.” She walked toward them holding some kind of… gleaming tangle.

“No, dear, your body could develop new allergies at any time. This will be much safer, and,” he grinned wickedly, “much more fun.”

“How do I use it?”

“Those holes,” he pointed, “are forr your legs. Step into them. I ensure their safety and fit.” Fit?

“A-alright…” Twilight held the tangle apart with both hands and raised her thick leg into the hole. The material, pulled taut, was glossy yet clear. Inch by inch she stepped into it, working her foot down and pulling the material upward. When her toes reached the end she found five dimples waiting. “It does fit. It is tight but not unpleasant. I am not reacting to the substance.”

“The other leg, then.” His voice became harsh, commanding. Rosa stared in wonder.

“Y-yes, Bernard.” The material stuck close to her, throwing her soft rolls and dense muscles into relief. When she reached her ass, the material left plenty of room for her cellulite-dappled rolls. She grew wordless and hungry as she pulled this clear skin onto her. The thin, flexible layer made every flaw and feature glow and bounce in the light. It accommodated every fold of her belly and sides. No skin pinched, snagged, or caught. Her breasts never lost their heavy weight, but every inch of glorious sag gained touch of supple bounce. She pulled her arms through and cried out in pleasure. The suit ate her upper arms, elbows, forearms, wrists, hands, fingers. Once it devoured both arms, the garment closed up around her back. It clasped against her neck, and that was it: her entire body glistened under the tight bodysuit. She tested her movements; they were free and easy.

“Turn,” said Bernard. She spun.

“Kneel,” said Rosa. She kneeled.

“Come here,” said Bernard. She crawled toward the barrier and looked up eagerly at the two affini.

“Good girl,” said Rosa. Her face filled with wonder.

“Keep your eyes on Rosa while I explain,” said Bernard. She nodded.

“This is your new skin. It is a marvel of affini biotechnology. It metabolizes oils and dead skin; it wicks your sweat osmotically. With a bit of haptic training, it will transmit all sense of touch perfectly. It can sustain minor scrapes, but you must be mindful around sharp objects. It repairs itself much like human skin; larger cuts will require stitching. It can be washed in the shower and bath while still worn. A touch flap will free your anus and vulva for… whatever you might use them for. It will stretch or shrink with you if your body size changes. In case of complication, you can always remove it. However, you need never remove it again. It will block all topical allergens. I have included an optional hood which, when worn with your respirator, should protect you in any oxygenated environment. With this, you may explore the Crespescule to your heart’s delight.”

The tears in Twilight’s eyes made Rosa’s crystals shine all the brighter. Under Rosa’s influence, her breath could not quicken—instead, it became deeper and deeper. Her whole body sang with the rhythm. She couldn’t speak.

“Reach your hand through the barrier, pet.”

She complied. After a moment’s resistance, the barrier sealed around her now-protected arm and allowed her passage. She grasped with wheeling fingers into Rosa’s hab, and, for the first time in her life, Twilight touched another living creature. Blooms in Rosa’s mosses kneeled to rub Twilight’s knuckles as her palm sank deep into soft orange-green. They held each other in warm silence. Twilight closed her eyes and let soft darkness take her.

When she opened her eyes, Bernard and Rosa were still crouched in front of her. They smiled and chatted at each other.

“…must say again, wondrous work, Bernard. Almost worthy of your dramatic secrecy.”

“Oh, I have apologized to the dear girl already—but I offer no such apology to you. Torturing you is among the crown jewels of my days.”

“Um…” Twilight cut in. Both affini turned and smiled. The glow in their eyes had no power over her.

“Welcome back.” “Did you have a good nap?”

“I, did. But my arm, ah, hurts a little.”

“Oh goodness!” Rosa let go; Twilight pulled back through the barrier and stared at her hand. “My apologies, flower.”

Twilight held her hand to her face; she could smell no trace of Rosa.

Bernard explained. “Barriers will filter foreign particulates from your hab; but just in case, you are to shower immediately after any excursion or any contact with an item that hasn’t passed through your airlock.”

“Speaking of which, I have left you something.” Rosa chimed in. “The Crepescule’s finest bookbinder was able to synthesize paper, ink, glue, and stitching all from potato skins. The bookbinder delighted in the challenge. After disinfection, it is safe to touch, hold, rub your cheeks on. The book bears an introductory text for pluribus systems—you could find the text in the library easily, but your first book should be special and useful. So that it may remain useful… please do not eat it.”

“The same goes for regular books, my dear.” Bernard jumped aloft. “You may touch any blunt item on the ship as long as you wear your hood and mask . Any item you wish to bring home must be sprayed down to be scentless,non-volatile, and sealed.” He drooped a little. “Would that we could bring you every sensory wonder our home can offer. These trifles must do for now.”

“Lastly, before you speak: none of this is a gift, no more than the starlight you read by. Neither is it a ‘right,’ in the Terran legal sense. It is yours—like air to breathe is yours, like hands to touch are yours, like life to live is yours. We are your protectors—not only us, but every affini in this ship, this system, and the known universe. You are our charge. We will bend the laws of this world, invent miracles, and yes, even undergo strange ordeals that threaten our arrogant self-assurance. All for you.”

“Nothing in the Affini Compact is earned, deserved, or given. It is simply yours.”

Twilight, First Pluribus—bookworm and shut-in extraordinaire, easily excited and easily tired child of peaceful and lonely days, connoisseuse of all things potato, medical oddity with an unknown past, newly-realized member of a system of two, or three, or more—wept. She wept pain, she wept gratitude and confusion, she wept joy and terror and love. Her saviors sat across from her. They wrapped their vines around each other. Bernard smiled; Rosa radiated a warm glow from under her mask. When she had run out of tears to weep, Twilight stood.

“Thank you, Bernard. Thank you Mi-… Rosa.” She bowed.

“Are you ready to explore?” Bernard stood, lilting.

“N-no. Let’s go out when the star rises. I would like to read and reflect alone for the evening. I must also show this wonderment to Dorothy.”

“Then you shall.” Rosa stood, humming. Together, they took a graceful bow.

““Welcome to the Affini Compact, Twilight, First Pluribus.””

---

A figure in a dark room, seated; a figure on a screen.

“Hello, old friend. How goes the ride?”

“Greetings, young friend. It pains me a peck to witness the limits of our hypermetric shuttles. But! That limitation allows me and mine to witness the wonders of our empire. Stars charted! Voids conquered! Nothing can challenge affini supremacy. It’s quite dull.”

“I’m sure. Have you reviewed the most recent case notes?”

“You wound me. Of course I have. Two breakdowns now… I’d like you to prepare some censorship routines.”

“Censorship? Unheard of. Whatever for?”

“In case the need arises.”

“…of course, Doctor. Do you require any additional accommodations for your floret?”

“If the decade away has not eased her memories, I will ease them for her. She will be fine because I will be there. On the Core Worlds, we aren’t as inclined to let lesser beings off their leashes.”

“Hmm. Could it be that you still bear a grudge?”

“A grudge? Against that upstart? By my blooms, I am far above grudges, especially against overgrown sprouts. Just keep an eye on her.”

“Of course. Safe travels doctor.”

The screen clicked off. Silence. A metallic chirp: “Goooooosh, well isn’t ze just the most stuck-up bundle of sticks. ‘On the Core Worlds, we’ nothing. Why I have half a mind to- mphgh!!”

“Remember, pet : short leashes make short walks, but long leashes make long nights. ...huh, that’s good, actually! I should write that down.”

“Yr shtylus iish behund wor eur…”

“Thank you, scrapheap. Now, get busy.”

Chapter 8

“But why can’t I be first pluribus??” Warm and safe from the pre-dawn cool outside, Dorothy flexed, posed, and grumbled by a mirror. She fidgeted with the mask now looped behind her ears.

Rosa shrugged. “…yes, I suppose, that is a fair question. We do not wish to impose an ordinal hierarchy on your system.”

“Yeah, I’m not ordinary at all!” With her hair tied up neatly, she pulled the hood over her head. “Also what gives with the hood? My hair is getting all messy underneath.”

“Bernard cannot change the texture of your hair, Dorothy. However, he did inform me of an extra feature, one that may help you.”

“Is it gonna chop my hair off? Because that’s where I keep all my strength!”

“No, no. Please, watch this.” Rosa raised her arm toward Dorothy and splayed her twig-mossed fingers. Suddenly, thick black waves crept up from the Terran’s toes past her legs, her belly, her arms, and over her head. The membrane, now opaque, left only a small oval for the Terran’s face.

“WOAH! WHAT?”

“The photoreceptors in this device can be adjusted to display any static or moving image. It will still appear ‘flat’ on you, unfortunately; no invisible limbs or adaptive lighting for you. Bernard might have completed those features were his free time not so deeply consumed with anal sex.”

“He gave up buttfucking time to make this?” Dorothy sniffled. Tears oozed through the mask. “I gotta thank him. Oh, right. Wait, how do I change the color? Like this?” She stuck out her hand like Rosa’s.

“No; I only wished to see you copy me.” A vine pulled Rosa’s tablet from behind her back. “You can adjust the settings on your pad.”

“Aw come on!!! It should be triggered by cool moves!” She scratched her head.

“It can , by painstaking effort in the ‘Haptics’ tab. For example, I have taken the liberty of mapping ‘scratching your head’ to ‘red and yellow polka dots.’”

“NOOOO!!!” Dorothy looked down in horror, but the black sheen remained undisturbed against her legs. She crossed her arms.

“Hah! Thought you got one over on me, Rosae? Maybe you should get better at Hoplic programming! Ha ha haaaa!!” She guffawed obliviously as red and yellow dots crawled up her legs.

“…yes, I must have been mistaken. Anyway, I’ll reset it and let you pick something.” The color cleared before she noticed.

A short time later, with plenty of assistance from Hawthorne, Dorothy presented her outfit: bare legs and feet, black bike shorts, and a tight olive vest showing plenty of cleavage and belly. A mock-textured black beanie hid her hair. Through a trick of forced perspective, Hawthorne had even given her a small bulge in her shorts; this addition pleased her greatly. The outfit, while cartoonishly flat, resembled normal clothes closely enough.

“Dashing. I would love to welcome you out through the airlock, but you need air to breathe. So, please come this way instead.” Rosa reached out her arm again, invitingly this time, from her side of the barrier.

“… oh yeah, I’ve been wanting to do this! Hhhhyyyyaaaaah!” Dorothy charged toward the barrier and jumped, fist raised. This time, she didn’t bounce off—the goopy membrane held her for a moment and spat her out right at Rosa. Twilight’s fist sunk deep into the affini’s mosses. All was still for a split second—then Rosa’s vines grabbed the pesky Terran to absorb the recoil.

“Oh wait HOLY SHIT YOU ARE SO SOFT!!!! WOWWOWW!!!!!! WAIT CAN I STAY HERE!!!!”

“Unfortunately, no.” Rosa’s vines lifted Dorothy and dangled her midair. “Your suit can repel my biorhythms only so much. Without Class-C inhibitors, it is dangerous for you to be too close to any affini.”

“Aww, okay.” Dorothy pouted.

“Also no, you cannot touch my things.”

“What!! Bullshit!” She struggled against the vines.

“There will be plenty to explore outside my delicately cluttered hab. Please let my pet’s mementos be.”

At mention of Rosa’s pet, Dorothy ceased her struggle—then nodded solemnly. The two stepped past dense shelves toward a front hatch. What was narrow and cramped for an affini, Dorothy could pass easily.

“Lastly, please try to refrain from swearing. ‘Dirt,’ ‘clod,’ ‘by the stars’ are all polite.”

“C’moooon. Why bother being polite here? Doesn’t everybody know each other?”

“In the Compact, politeness is a social game to demonstrate respect and love to our fellow creatures. Failing to be polite will not incur punishment, offense, or reprimand. Failing to be polite signifies only a missed chance to express love to your neighbor.”

“Huh… well, I’ll try, okay? Don’t expect me to curtsey or nothin’.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Now, Dorothy…” Rosa threw open the hatch and ushered her ward into fresh air. “…welcome to the Crepescule .”

At such impossibly low orbit, the ship did not need an artificial sky—therefore, under the transparent hull, everything Dorothy saw was real.

Lily-fingered clouds hung halo-like ‘round the horizon. Midnight blue had given way to a curtain of shimmering royal purple—like an everyday aurora. Lush long-limbed trees formed soft lime-green and gold-yellow canopies over streetpaths. Open meadows teemed with harmless life; friendly non-sentients stirred and chirped at the coming day. In the distance lay gardens and wild plots, habs and shops, business and recreation centers, artificial and natural edifices all blended seamlessly under the peaceful trees and the sky above. Few sentients were out so early in Rosa’s quiet neighborhood. Every structure, every body, every thing quietly awaited the coming miracle of the new day in quintessent harmony.

“HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” Dorothy called, and ran full-speed into a meadow.

“Dorothy!! Honestly…” Rosa took off after her at dizzying speed. Her deft vines scooped surprised creatures and humble buds away from the human’s relentless leaps. A few affini walking their pets looked over and waved a greeting. “Nice to see you out and about, Rosa!” “Is this that Terran everyone’s talking about?” “Wowwwww she’s cuuuuuute, Rosa is she yours?” Rosa waved back self-consciously with a warm smile in her eyes. To her and to the onlookers, her ward’s boundless enthusiasm had arisen as naturally as bird call or falling branch. Dorothy was not a guest or stranger imposing her will upon the new day; Dorothy was the new day.

“WOOHOO!!!” Without thinking, Dorothy leapt over benches into a clear, dark lake. As her eyes adjusted, she found schools of strange fish darting out of her way and following behind. She chased after them, and they chased after her. Where had she learned to swim? It didn’t bother her.

When she surfaced she sucked in fresh air and found Rosa’s now-serpentine body wrapped around her. “Shhh, look,” she said, and pulled away. Dorothy looked: two gray translucent creatures leaned against each other atop a floating lavender cushion of leaves. Wisps of color danced across their torsos. “Two sleeping spectrum jelly florets and their owner,” she explained, “who requested a quiet zone around this area. Please, follow me.” Rosa coiled around Dorothy and cut a clean silent path to the other side of the lake. Dorothy panted while the soft wind wicked the cool water away. The new sensations—dirt, water, wind, sunlight—overwhelmed her.

The light had gathered around the horizon: light oranges, deep greens, streaks of white. Flashes of firey blue crested the ship’s rim.

“Would you like a better view?” Rosa asked.

“Uh-, y-yeah! Just hold o-”

But Rosa gathered vines and mosses from her legs into a moss harness around Dorothy’s torso, and every remaining vine tensed, held—then leapt! Rosa and Dorothy rushed into the air. Vines flung toward, wrapped around, and grappled off near-invisible skyhooks in the ship’s hull. Higher and higher, faster and faster, ascending the grand invisible walls, until three vines lashed through three hooks and formed a dense knot at the top. With grace, Rosa softened her ward’s helpless deceleration until she hung near-still at the top of the sky.

“H-hey, hold on, I n-need a minute.”

“We will remain here a while then. Please, look down.”

Vertigo and wonderment. A kilometer below, a kilometer wide, and two kilometers deep lay the small affini city she’d barely become acquainted with. Beyond it, the land disappeared at the Crepescule’s hull walls. And beyond that:

They floated over a great continent whose humble fields stretched in every direction. At this height they could watch the Umbral star’s cool light speed across the planet’s surface. It struck the gleaming skyscrapers of a Terran-built city scant kilometers below the ship. “The City of Independents,” Rosa sang. “The largest settlement of independent sophonts—Terrans, Rinans, Spectral Jelly, and innumerable others—in the known universe.”

“It’s… kinda small…”

“And its population decreases every day.” Rosa’s laughed. “We may visit soon, if you like.”

“O-oh! That’s cool… so, are we, just, gonna hang here?” Dorothy shook.

“You required a euphemistic ‘minute’ to rest, did you not?”

“I-I think I might prefer it on the grou- AAAHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUCK.”

The ship rose to meet them as they fell. Dorothy couldn’t see the moss-sail slowing their acceleration, or the padded-spring coils Rosa formed for impact. She just saw the Crepescule’s canopy amass detail and color in the sunlight—and then she felt a rush of movement, the hum of Rosa’s biorhythms, and a slow easy descent to the surface in Rosa’s arms. Finally she collapsed laughing onto the meadowgrass. She heard mild applause from some far-off interlopers, but saw only the lightening blue sky and her affini.

“…hah, hah… fu- uh, ‘dirt,’ Rosae. Hah… you’re uh, pretty cool for a nerd.”

“Thank you, Destroyer.” She bowed, then sat. “Take your time. I’ve dropped us by our first stop.”

For a few minutes, Dorothy felt. There was no smell, and there was no taste, and the sounds and sights were all easy to imagine. But the feel of the world coursed through her. New sensations beyond her dreams seemed to erupt every second, then jockey for sense-memory in her reeling mind. Rough. Ridged. Silken. Wet. Only now did she get what her nerd-ass headmate had been saying; their life on their ship had been very, very small.

“Well well well, who could this delightful creature be?”

Dorothy opened her eyes to a pink, white, and red canopy of petals.

“Woah!” She sat up, and the canopy shifted. It was alive?

Rosa cleared her throat. “Dorothy, please introduce yourself. Politely , if possible.”

“Uh, um, hiya! Wow, you’re pretty… cool.” Dorothy stood and brushed herself off. “The name’s Dorothy the Destroyer, f- ah, second pluribus, I guess? I’m a medical odyssey and I’m really strong. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Is ‘the Destroyer’ a family name?” spoke the canopy, now more obviously a humanoid affini.

“What? No!” but Rosa and the stranger were now both chuckling. Dorothy, to her credit, laughed along bashfully.

“Ahh, delightful. My name is Philia Phylilia, Sixth Bloom, co-architect of your habitation unit. What a delight to meet you, Dorothy.” She bowed gracefully. “And these are—”

Three black and yellow shapes leapt out from behind Philia into Dorothy’s arms.

“Dorothy ohmigosh hii can I call you Dor?” “Or maybe Dodo?” “No that would be meeeean silly.” “ You’re silly! It’s cute” “Dodor we’re really soft and cuddly and would you please please please please please give us pets”

“Uh yeah okay!!” Dorothy’s shock dissolved under the velvety smooth fur, soft tapping legs, and warm affection of the three creatures. This was… new touch. “Wow you are really really fff– uh clodding soft. Like uh this?”

“““Yes!!!!””” They screamed as her fingers found the bases of their necks. “Dodor you’re the bestest .” “Yeah you’re so cool and strong.” “There’s no wayyy Twilight pets as good as you.”

“Oh no way, you know Twilight? Does that mean we’ve met before?”

“No silly, you weren’t there!” “Miss Rosa explained everything so even we could get it.” “You’re Dorothy, duh! We didn’t even need to be told that!!” “Liar, that’s why Rosa had her introduce herself.” “No she stands totally differently!!”

“Now my darlings, please be good. Do not overwhelm her; this is Dorothy’s first time outside.”

“““Yes Mistress!””” their beady eyes shook with pleasure at their owner’s word. Some of them drooled a thick, sticky substance onto Dorothy’s fingers.

“No, no, it’s okay. Thank you though, uh Phili- Miss Philia? Ma’am? Should I be saying that?”

“Oh, I don’t mind, dear.” Philia laughed like the breeze. She and Rosa shone with pleasure as the ward and florets played.

“If you say so… hey wait, do you guys wanna see a trick?” Dorothy glanced at Rosa.

“We’re not guys but sure!!” “Yeah what do you have?” “Show me show me show me!”

“Ok, ok.” She gathered the three creatures into the crook of one arm, and stuck out her other with a pleading look to Rosa. “Now, watch, I can transform myself to look like you, riiiiight… now!”

Rosa pressed a few hidden buttons, and Twilight’s clothes dissolved away. Stripes of yellow and black curled up her arms and legs.

“Woah that’s so cool!” “Wow that’s radical!” “Also your boobies look really good in this skin-thing.” “Wait can we suck on your boobies?” “Yeah the trick was cool but what about boobies.”

“ That will be enough for now, darlings .” Before Philia had finished speaking, the three Beeple sighed and fell still. From the first word, they’d fallen under her spell. She sent a few vines to retrieve her pets, and brought them up to her blossoms to suckle. “Thank you for indulging them, Dorothy.”

“Uh! Oh! That is uh A-, O-, K.” Dorothy couldn’t help but watch the bliss overtake the creatures as sweet nectar filled their mouths. Philia sure was beautiful. Was it rude to stare? She shook herself from reverie. “Yeah it’s alright! It’s fun showing off a little, haha.”

“You and I have that in common then, pet .” Philia winked a golden eye.

“Haha yeah definitely,” Dorothy grinned stupidly.

Rosa cleared her throat. “Philia, we have a full day ahead of us, so we must bid you farewell now.”

“Of course, I must also bring these creatures inside. But do come back soon, will you? You and Twilight are always welcome. You can even bring your… Rosa with you!”

“S-sure! Thank you for uh, meeting me, Ma’am! Take care little… ones! Little bee ones!” Through their stupor, the bees could only moan farewells. Philia brought them inside her hab. When their hatch closed, Dorothy turned to Rosa. “Thanks for the backup there. I dunno what came over me.”

“I do. Maybe I’ll even tell you later. Why don’t you put your clothes back on, and I’ll bring you to our second stop.”

“Don’t know what you’re implying, but alright! And hey, Rosa, seriously.” Dorothy folded her hands and raised them. “Thank you. This is amazing. I… feel like I’ve never been alive before.”

“While you have certainly lived until now, Dorothy, you had never received the accommodation you required. It is my joy to welcome you to a new way of life.” Rosa patted her head.

“H-hmph.” Dorothy crossed her arms, oblivious to the polka dots that crawled up her skin. “Well anyway, let’s get on with it. No flying this time, okay?”

“… certainly, Dorothy,” Rosa chuckled, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

---

“Please state your name, cutie?”

“Uh, Hans Diop. Uh, Border Command officer 3 rd class assigned to the Franciscus… does that matter?”

“Oh not really, but you can tell me anything that helps you feel comfortable <3”

“Uh, haha. Yeah, Look… sorry for all the trouble. Uh, coming to get us and everything.”

“No no! Goodness, I’m only sorry we didn’t find you earlier.”

“No, uh, that’s our fault. ‘Low-Observability Ships’ and all that. We were… supposed to be a covert force meeting up with other remnants. Then nobody came, but the captain made us stay in the belt. Did the… uh, did you get the captain?”

“Yes, your captain was quite the little feralist. She is fine, but we have ensured she cannot harm anyone anymore.”

“Cool. Uh, yeah, she was tough. Swore she’d kill anyone who hit the distress signal. So we floated in the belt for years, waiting and… pretending. And starving. I legit cried when you brought us some real food. Uh, so, thanks.”

“It has been a joy to provide your crew adequate nutrition at long last. Because you have not demonstrated violent tendencies, you have been invited to pursue either independence under conditional wardship or opt for domestication altogether.”

“Yeah, I saw the paper you left. Uh… honestly, I’m too used to being a soldier. I figure I’ll feel better if I gotta answer to someone. So, domestication seems alright.”

“Delightful! You’ll make an excellent pet, I’m sure.”

“Haha… uh, thanks.”

“Before we complete your processing for domestication, I do have an unusual request.”

“…it’s not like, uh, a sex thing, is it?”

“Only if you want it to be <3.”

“… uh, haha.”

“I kid. Before we arrived, there had been an incident with one of the ships. Can I ask you a couple questions?”—

“Incident?”

“What do you know about the Benedictus ?”

---

“So, I shouuuldn’t be telling you this. But I guess this whole military secret shit doesn’t matter anymore and the captain uh excused himself from this mortal coil or whatever and I always loooved gossip. So! Count yourself lucky.”

“I will, Rachel. Please, regale me.”

“About four or five years ago this fucking lady phones us from a shuttle, right? And because I’m the comms engineer for the Johnny— sorry the Ioannes ugh — of course I have to field this weird fucking call and then tell the captain ‘uh heyyyy captain we have a situation’ and normally I would loooove to be able to say that line because it’s so fucking cool sounding, but the call was just weird . This weird lady with a scary voice phones us from a shuttle and I have no idea how she found us because our channel was suuuuper classified (not to brag) but she was like ‘I will reveal your fucking location to the fucking plants if you do not completely evacuate one of your three ships and surrender complete control to me’ and the captain was rip. fucking. shit about it, but what could we do? No offense but we didn’t know you guys are like chill and would give us real fucking food or nothing.”

“I’m honored you have changed your mind in this respect.”

“Yeah so ANYWAY, the shuttle jumps in, and the entire . fucking . crew of the Benny— sorry the Benedictus— actually wait we’re not rebels anymore so I soooooooo don’t care—the entire Benny crew just evacuates to the other two ships and I had to share my room with this fucking craaazy Terran cause I’m like an Umbran girl through and through, right? My grandma came over on the first ship. And this guy, he had all kinds of issues— ughhhhhh . Anyway, the shuttle docks, right? For like a day. And then leaves, and that’s it! Like, the ship is obviously occupied after it leaves, but like we hear nothing for YEARS, I am NOT EXAGGERATING. Until, like, the day before you guys showed up.”

“Do you remember anything about the Shuttle?”

“Oh it was an Umbran shuttle for suuuure. You can take that to the bank. Do you have banks? Anyway. Uh, no but I never met her and nobody from either ship talked to her until like literally the day before you guys show up! I get another call and it’s the weird lady and she’s like ‘I need three of your crew on my ship immediately or I’ll rat you out’ and of course I was like ‘oh that would be great because I am so sick of being out here’ but the captain G-d rest his stupid fucking soul he complies and sends three guys over. Uh, it was Vinny, Salvatore, and my fucking roommate Jorge. How is he by the way?”

---

“ Killed ?”

“Indeed, Michael. I apologize for your loss. Your shipmates Adam, Berry, Malachi, and three from the Ioannes, it seems. These images are upsetting, but you may peruse them if you like.”

“…you did it.”

“We did not, Michael.”

“…well, how can I believe that?”

“Why would we have killed them? Even your captain, who is quite violent, is alive, as are all other members of your crew. Affini don’t do this. And even at our most violent, we do not use knives.”

“…tch. Then they offed themselves because they were scared of you. Like the Ioannes captain.”

“Please, Michael. They all simultaneously stabbed themselves in the throat for an identical time and method of death when so many of you had already given up on Feralism?”

“…well it must’ve been the witch then.”

“The witch?”

“I don’t know how she found our channel or found or ships when even you all couldn’t. She’s a witch. She must’ve… done something.”

“You refer to the woman who commandeered the Benedictus ?”

“You gotta watch out for her. She’s not normal.”

“She is within our custody; she is mentally and physically sound; and she has no memory of any time before she boarded the ship.”

“What the hell? That’s pretty fucking convenient, don’t you think? She’s lying to you!”

“…tell me something, Michael. Do you ever fantasize about other men?”

“What? No!”

“Really. Well, your heartbeat, pulse, sweat glands, and saccades say otherwise.”

“…I’m telling you, that’s not true.”

“…well, that’s a shame then. A lot of male sophonts on the ship would love to have you. Unrelatedly, I have some class-D xenodrugs here which prevent a person from lying to themselves or others. Would you like to try them?”

“…no thanks.”

“Alright! In any case, I have been a xenoveterinary doctor on this ship for ten years. No human has ever been able to lie to me. And none ever will.”

“…you should just watch out for her. All I’m saying.”

---

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehehehehhehe there are so many colors this is so niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice.”

“Aw, how wonderful, Esther!”

“Wait wait wait eeeeeeven though I’m a stupid owned pet now can I still be Captain pleeeeeeeease I will be good I promise come onnnnnnnn!”

“Your new owner will make that decision, darling, not I.”

“Aw but I like you Bernie your eyes are so preettttyyyyyy and you made me feellll so gooooood.”

“You aren’t my type, darling, but I appreciate the compliment. Now, can you tell me anything about the lady from the Benedict ?”

“Oh Bernie she was soooo meannnnn she was threatening to reveal our location and like we were super top secret space guys and I didn’t know you could make me feel all fluffffffyfyyyyyy and nice so I let her have the ship and she just kinda hung out there and didnn’t wanna come play or hang out at alll and we had plenty of synthcubes but she didn’t want any she just took our weapons and things.”

“We found some affini technology on the ship. Can you tell me if it was there earlier?”

“Noooo waaaayyyyy because the Benny captain would always brag like ‘my ship was better Esther’ and ‘why’d it have to be my ship’ and I was like ‘we drew straws Salvy I don’t know what to tell you’ except I was a lot more mean about it then I need to apologize to him can I please Bernie can I”

“…perhaps another time, darling.”

“Awww okayyyy I’m just really sorry I should say sorry to everyone I think, being a soldier is just really hard, hey can I have some pets please”

“Of course, Esther.”

“Yayyyyyy being a pet is so great.”

“That’s exactly what we like to hear, dear.”

---

“Phew!” Bernard leaned back at his desk. Before him, a video projection; behind him, his floret. “All these intakes exhaust me so. Billy, would you rub daddy’s back?”

“Yes sir!!” The terran leapt to his task. Bernard sighed in relief.

“How’d it go, Bernard?” From the screen, Yotta Rhizoma held a stylus with one vine and undoubtedly pleasured their floret with many others.

He frowned. “For the purposes of this conversation, let us call whoever, or whoevers, fronted Twilight and Dorothy’s body at the time ‘Null.’”

They nodded. “Seems fine to me.”

Bernard leaned back into his floret’s touch. “At some point after the Terran Pacification ‘War,’ three ships officially associated with Terran Naval Border Command left Umber-3 and entered the asteroid belt, where they would stay sequestered until last week.”

“Officially?”

“These were Low-Observability Ships, with enough cloaking to blend in effectively with the great asteroid cloud. Typically, those ships belong to OCNI—the covert intelligence wing of the Terran Navy.”

Yotta wilted. “I'm familiar with those… atrocity-mongers, unfortunately. We are still rooting out their remnants.”

“No crewmember outwardly professed OCNI backing, but we’ll likely find some in the next few days. It’s immaterial, really.” Bernard leaned forward; his boy hurried to follow him. “At some point roughly four years ago, an Umbran shuttle made contact with, and then jumped to the location of, the three feralist ships. In exchange for silence about their location, Null demanded the Benedictus. The Terrans complied. She retrofitted the ship with a molecular printer, whose mass she sourced from leftover weaponry and non-essential ship systems. Then, she and her headmates lived there for four years without any contact with the other ships. One day before contact, Null demanded six Terrans enter the ship. The next day, Null activated an unshielded beacon knowing we would detect it, the Terrans died somehow , and Null used the escape pod to jump into our detection range.”

“But we found no Umbran shuttle among the three ships, which means…”

“…shortly after Null commandeered Benedictus , the shuttle departed, presumably returning to Umber, meaning…”

“…Null had an accomplice?”

“Yes, likely with OCNI ties. Could you examine shuttle departure/arrival records for any discrepancies?”

“Zetta will take care of it, and I’ll review their findings. However, you know as well as I do: a ship which left with two independents and returned with one independent would have been flagged immediately .”

“I know, I know. Something is off. Some of your dread seems to have rubbed off on me, Yotta.”

“Please don’t let it pain you, Bernard. We’ll figure it out.”

“Are you…” Bernard paused. “Are you briefing Florian?”

Yotta sighed. “…yes, I am. I would rather Rosa not know, given their history. Could you abide this?”

“I understand. And I dislike it. But yes.” Bernard smiled sadly, knowingly.

“Thank you. I am sorry.” Yotta smiled too: sadly, knowingly.

Bernard clapped once. “In happier news! It appears Rosa and Dorothy are out for a walk. They’ll likely pay us visits soon.”

“Oh wonderful! I can’t wait to see how our humans are blooming. Speak again soon, then?”

“We will, Yotta dear. Ta!”

The screen clicked off. Bernard sighed heavily, then turned his head around to meet his floret’s eyes.

“Billy, that was a very private conversation, and I will be erasing your memory of it. Not because I do not trust you, but because I do not wish to inflict the burden of secret-keeping upon you.”

“I understand, daddy. You know best!” Billy continued rubbing, unperturbed.

Bernard turned in his chair “I do. And I also think you deserve a reward for being such a good boy for me.”

The twink brought his hands to his mouth and gasped. “Really???? Yayyyyy! Is it treats ?”

Bernard smirked. “Yes, treats.” He patted his desk. “Come around here and bend over, would you?”

He squealed. “Yes sir! Of course, daddy!!!”

Chapter 9

Half a dozen times Rosa heard the same line: “Oooooh, can I pet your floret?”

As the day began, onlookers of the Crepescule town center flocked toward her and Dorothy. From a distance, they only caught the glint of Dorothy’s shiny body—like a forgotten trinket, or delectable fruit. From mid-range, they admired the Terran’s casual posture—uncareful steps, hands clasped behind her head, elbows up and armpits out. And from nearby, they exulted in the way her eyes twitched, mouth gaped, and head whirled—nervously excited, or excitedly nervous, at the world around her. She was too precious not to ask.

“Hey, I’m my own lady! Dorothy the Destroyer, second pluribus!”

“Indeed, I am merely her wardkeeper.” Rosa would radiate a smile. “However, you could ask her yourself.”

“Ooooh, okay. Please excuse me, Dorothy. May I pet you?”

“Y-yeah, fu- uh, alright, fine!” And Dorothy would blush exquisitely as the Terran experienced physical affection she had never known before. No matter how imposing her stance or tough her words, she could not hide her pleasure.

After a minute or so, Rosa would separate them. “Please excuse me; she does not have access to Class-C inhibitors, so we must be careful with her.” Usually they’d chat with ward and wardkeeper for a while before politely excusing themselves—with a sly look back to Rosa before departing. Some knew Twilight from Overnet fora, some had heard of the system by reputation, and still others just couldn’t resist such an adorable creature in such an outfit.

“Hey, Rosa, what’s a ‘latex?’ Never heard of it.” As they left the bustling center, Dorothy’s questions continued.

“Ah. Some humans enjoy wearing suits like yours (much less sophisticated ones, mind you) for sexual pleasure.”

“Wait really? But why? They have skin already!” Dorothy huffed.

“Some enjoyed the compression, the de-identification, and the texture. It’s really not that strange. More than most species, humans develop innovative sexual desires and practices as a response to their environment.”

“Hmph. Sounds like people will find anything to be horny about.”

“One could put it that way, yes. Does sex bother you, Dorothy?”

She grumbled. “No! I just haven’t had experience with… anybody but myself. Feels like everybody’s got a leg up on me here.”

“Some of them would like their legs on you, yes.” Rosa revelled in teasing Dorothy. She either blushed big or didn’t notice. This time: the former.

“And anyway, why does everybody assume I belong to you or somethin’? I don’t belong to anybody!”

“Very few independent sophonts live on the Crepescule . The independent ones, bless their forlorn hearts, usually live planetside.”

“Hey yeah wait a minute.” She stopped at a bench where the canopy was particularly thick. She hoisted herself up and sat. “If you guys wanna domesticate people so bad, why have an independent city anyway?”

Rosa sat on the dirt across from her. The bench was big enough for both, but… better safe than sorry. “Why do you assume we want to domesticate you?”

“Huh? Come on, nerd, that’s all you talk about.”

“Well, true enough.” Dorothy beamed, like she’d gotten one over her keeper. Rosa continued: “However, the truth is more subtle. We believe two things.” Rosa raised two vines. “One: we believe we are responsible for the happiness and well-being of every creature in this universe. Two: we believe the most effective method to ensure your happiness is to domesticate you and keep you as pets.”

“That’s like the same thing though!” Dorothy groaned. “You’re just saying shit!”

“One of the features of language is that, as you might put it, one can just ‘say shit.’”

“Uggghhh. Save it for Twi, ya overgrown nerdhead.” The human lay back on the bench and stared through the canopy at the sky.

“Dorothy, I do not seek to fool you. I have made a subtle distinction, and you have as much right as Twilight to understand how things work in the Compact.”

“Fiiiine. So what’s the difference? In English , fou- uh, ten-eyes… it’s ten, right?”

“I will speak plainly. And yes, indeed: ten.”

“That’s so fuckin’ sick. Alright I’m listening.”

“We will use, as example, the crew of the two ships we rescued alongside yours. Almost all of them have been entered into trial wardships like yours. Only the most violent ones have been drugged and assigned owners. But, as I’ve said, affini believe that domestication is the best choice for all humans. Why might this be??”

Dorothy fidgeted as she thought. “…because people have a right to say no?”

“Yes, somewhat, and… no, somewhat. It is complicated. But that is the exact answer I wanted you to find. Well done, Dorothy.”

“I’m a geeeenius!” She scoffed. “I don’t get this ‘yes and no’ shit, though.” Her expression softened. “Sorry, I’m… trying to follow.”

“Broadly, there are two schools of affini thought.” Rosa raised her vines again. “I will call the first ‘short-leash affinism.’ Short-leash affinists believe all species other than affini should be neurochemically and hypnotically subjugated as soon as possible, whether they pose a violent threat or not. We are stronger, smarter, and more advanced than anyone else. We know you better than you know yourself. We can provide you a life without illness, physical harm, emotional harm, anxiety, death (in a sense) or any other concern. Therefore, we must save you from yourselves immediately and will take any pretense to do so.”

Dorothy nodded. “I guess that makes sense…”

“The second school is called ‘long-leash affinism.’ We still believe domestication is best for all species. However, we think it is… interesting to allow you the choice.”

The human leaned up from the bench. “Interesting?”

“We still will not allow you to cause any harm to yourself or others. If you are not taking proper care of yourself and the ship votes for a wellness check, an affini will forcibly take over your life until you either live it properly or submit it to someone else. Independence is a foolish choice… but we find value in letting you be foolish.”

Dorothy shook her head. “What ‘value’? What’s interesting?”

“Some of us believe in the Terran notion of ‘consent’: that any sophont, regardless of wisdom and insight, has the right to refuse a better life for themselves (within reason). Some of us acknowledge that even though domestication is the best choice, independence can be quite rewarding for some sophonts. Some of us feel overuse of xenodrugs and hypnosis makes a pet lose what makes them so special, precious, and fun to own. Some of us are curious, analytically and artistically, about what independent species do when given (carefully monitored) independence. And some of us find domestication all the sweeter when a pet makes the choice , under as little duress as possible, to be domesticated.”

Rosa was deeply practiced in these topics, and prepared for a number of possible counterarguments. None came.

“…ok, I think I get it.” Dorothy hopped down. “And you’re a long-leash?”

“Indeed. Short-leash affinism appears far more commonly in the Core Worlds. Many ships like the Crepescule entertain, on the whole, more long-leash tendencies.”

“And what about me?”

Rosa blinked. She came out of her intellectual reverie. Dorothy was staring at her with big, sad eyes. “What do you mean, flower?”

She looked down. “Somebody probably killed those people with these hands. These hands I trained. That makes me a threat. And I don’t know anything about anything, and you know stuff about stuff. Shouldn’t I be… domesticated?” Tears phased through her second skin and rolled down her cheeks. “What if I want that?”

Every bloom, every strand, every vine and vessel of Rosa Rosae stood still. “Dorothy…”

She sniffled. “Man, crying sucks. I don’t like it.” She chuckled and rubbed her nose with her elbow but the tears didn’t stop. “I just… I feel really confused all the time, and I feel like I have to learn how to be a whole person and not just a guy who lifts weights. It’s not fair .”

Rosa could hold back no longer and embraced the poor creature. “Dorothy, shhh. Listen to me. You do not have to do this alone. You have headmates to help you. You have me and Bernard and Philia and everyone else on this ship. Independence does not mean you will be alone. You will never be alone again.”

“But f-f-fucking why am I independent if you know better, huh?” Dorothy shouted into Rosa’s core and the warm song that came from it. “I give up then! Make the choice for me, nerd!”

Rosa wrapped the human in vines and set her atop the bench at eye-level. “Dorothy, I cannot do that.”

“Why fucking NOT?” Some passersby heard her yell and politely looked away. Not because they didn’t care; everyone cared. And, everyone trusted Rosa. The captain trusted Rosa. Bernard trusted Rosa.

So, Rosa must trust Rosa.

“First, because you have medical needs beyond anything we have witnessed before. We do not know everything about you yet, mentally or biologically. We still have not figured how to best take care of you. Bernard and I have been charged to figure that out, and I swear to you: we are doing everything we can.

“Second, because we have not yet synthesized xenodrugs which can help you. Almost no domestication proceeds without them. Grafted into my body are dozens of sharp injectors dripping with substances that can calm you, excite you, put you to sleep, wake you up, make pain go away, make you go away, make you unable to lie to yourself, make you want different things, make you blissful beyond belief– and if I touched you with any of them, you would die. Most domesticated sophonts also sport special implants which, in your current state, would kill you in seconds. 

“Third, because your system responds strangely to hypnotic suggestion and trance. You are immune; Twilight is not. If different headmates respond differently to hypnosis, we cannot be sure what effect hypnosis might have upon your brain overall. We have used some hypnosis on Twilight, to be sure; however, we have been loath to over use hypnosis—for fear of causing you some unknown damage.

“Fourth, because we have not met all of you yet. You arrived just over a week ago. We know of three, maybe four headmates who live in you. If we claim we believe in consent, we cannot allow some of you to make a decision for all of you.

“And lastly, because… because, just before you arrived, I lost my guiding light in this world. I lost the one who gave me my face and my heart and my happiest days. And while so many others would delight in owning you, I have been selected by our captain and this ship as the affini most qualified to look after you, and to unravel the mysteries surrounding you. My duty to them remains as my duty to you: unwavering. But I cannot own you.

“I can scarcely express to you how much it pains me—how it infuriates me—how it clashes against every biological and cultural instinct from my centuries of life—that I cannot give you everything that is yours , Dorothy. I am so sorry. I am so, so so sorry.”

Rosa’s great sorrow formed as a drowning torrent of dew. Then:

“Um, excuse me, you, ah, ‘big nerd.’”

Rosa looked up to see… Twilight. She smiled and tilted her head just so.

“Dorothy and I have been practicing how to, ah, ‘pass the baton.’ Please be assured she heard everything you said. She was exhausted from the attention and new sensations. She realized she was throwing a tantrum and needed help. She offers you an apology and demands you, ah, ‘fucking accept it.’”

Rosa did not speak, but nodded. Twilight began brushing the dew off her mask.

“I heard what you said too. I—we deeply appreciate your honesty. We know you enough how challenging this is for you. We are deeply grateful for all you have done for us.”

From her perch on the bench, Twilight threw her arms around Rosa’s head. The affini raised some vines to steady her ward.

“Please allow us to keep inconveniencing you a while longer. We trust you. And we accept the joys of our new life alongside its limitations.” Twilight smiled again with grateful tears.

Rosa held her a moment, then set her down. She remained kneeling. “I swear it, Twilight. I swear it, Dorothy. I swear to anyone else who might hear me. I will do all I can to help you.”

“Hehe, okay!” Twilight, back on solid ground, jumped slightly. “In that case…”

“Yes, Twilight?”

“Dorothy got her chance. I’d like to experience the ship too. Could we go on a walk and see Doctor Bernard?”

Rosa nodded, the last of the dew drying in the star’s rays and the warm smile inside her. “Of course, petals. Let us be on our way.”

---

Rosa led Twilight along the canopied path in the mid-morning shadow. She marveled at the dirt. She gasped at the flowers. She wondered at the sunbeams striking her skin through the mossy canopy. She greeted each passerby with purest curiosity. What a delight: to show the same body the same things for the first time. Rosa hoped dearly, as Twilight skipped along, that the whole system would get to experience such joys. That they could share so many firsts for the rest of their days.

“Rosa, how many sentients live on this ship?”

Rosa scratched her chin. “Hmm. With the new arrivals from the other feralist ships, approximately… 4,300 sophonts.”

“Oh… yes. How are they doing?” Twilight paused her exploration.

“Fine, dear. Bernard has been working on intakes all week; I believe he may have finished today.” Rosa listened for the questions underneath Twilight’s questions.

“I… you likely could tell but, I never met them. I never knew anyone was out there.”

“Does that worry you?”

“Yes.” Twilight crouched to stroke some grasses. They scattered from her touch; then, as she held her hand still, they gingerly reached out to stroke her fingers. “Did… someone in my system not want me to see them?”

“We must consider the possibility, yes.” Rosa sprinkled some pollen onto the grasses from her vines. The grasses rippled in gratitude. “Systems might filter out undesirable information, or change objects and memories to suit their purposes. Please try to not worry about it; you are your own person, and if you seek the truth, you will find it.”

“Thank you, Rosa. You are very kind.” She stood and, after a moment, posed. “And very knowledgeable, hmm?”

“I merely make it my business to know little about much. But it appears I have met your needs? I am flattered anytime my trivia can serve a sophont in need.” She bowed exaggeratedly, and the two laughed together.

Twilight had been delighted to choose her outfit: a black habit with simulated linen texture and a brown belt around her natural waist. The device could only simulate baggy spaciousness, of course. Thus, the humble garment lost some of its modesty among Twilight’s generous curves. Her beauty drew many more-than-friendly passersby; but any prurient interest faded into thoughtful politeness from all involved. What Twilight still lacked in social skills she made up in enthusiasm.

“I love how close the different buildings are. We are not far from Bernard’s office, are we?”

“Quite. We do not feel the need to separate business and pleasure here. Short distances engender convenience and community.” Rosa led her off a fork from the main path and, shortly, they reached a peacefully grand complex, full of green and soft light. “Here find one of the many beating hearts of our ship: the xenoveterinary hospital.”

“Um, Rosa, this building…” Twilight paused at the entrance and stared upward. “I have not seen other ships dedicated in memoriam before. Who was this… Castiglione?”

“Ah, yes. This will take a little telling. Umber-3 is one of the outermost Terran colonies. We encountered this planet, and rescued it, long before the Human Domestication Treaty. This hospital saw the first wave of humans ever to be domesticated. Calling that time ‘chaotic’ would understate the matter.”

“Goodness, I can imagine.”

“Luckily, we encountered Luna: a respected Umbran medical scientist who believed in the Compact’s goals. She trained quickly under Bernard’s predecessor and became hir assistant. Her instinct, insight, and bedside manner eased medical intakes immeasurably. She helped to compose care protocols for the first-ever sapient human florets. Near and far, she was beloved. No sophont has ever affected affini medical practice as much.”

“Gosh, she sounds amazing.” Twilight’s shadows danced.

“Perhaps; we never met. I was living on the surface at the time.” Rosa’s crystal eyes sparkled. “When she passed, we felt it appropriate to rename the xenoveterinary hospital in her memory.”

“But why did she die?” Twilight looked away from the sign, confused. “Could you not have saved her?”

“Yes. When she fell ill, we offered a cure to extend her life by a scant century, followed by digital-neural upload and a replacement body.  But she refused.” The crystals paused. 

“What?? Why??” The flames ceased.

“She had lived a long life for a human. Her independence and humanity meant much to her. She had grown tired. She viewed her life as a ‘natural life,’ so she wished to die a natural death.”

Twilight looked away. “I simply cannot understand that. How… senseless. Refusing the wonders of the Compact, the gift of life I am witnessing for the first time…” She clenched her fists. “…it is f-fucking wrong-headed.”

“Perhaps.” Rosa stood still. “…my floret made the same decision.”

The human whirled back. “Oh Rosa, I- I am sorry. Please excuse me. I had- oh, Rosa.”

“It is alright, flower.” Rosa patted Twilight. “The loss does weigh heavy on me; we can discuss her more at another time. But I tell you this story not to chide or shame you.” Rosa kneeled. “You are yet young, as am I. And those around us make strange and terrible decisions beyond our reckoning. They leave us a responsibility: to abide; to try to understand; and to make peace wherever possible.”

“I… I see. I will consider this. Thank you Rosa.” Twilight looked up to the entryway. “And thank you, Luna.”

“Indeed: thanks be to Luna. Let us hurry inside, Bernard is waiting.”

---

“Ooooooh would you look at you, Dory- oh, no, Twilight! Well helllo! You look wonderful!” Bernard crested the lobby with a panting, exhausted floret over his shoulder. “Please excuse Billy, he is quite tired from his treats.”

“H-hello… I’m Billy Bramblewood, Third Floret, ehe…”

“Hello, Billy! It is nice to meet another human.” Twilight reached out for a handshake; Billy could barely raise his arm. “I am Twilight, First Pluribus. I am sorry you feel unwell.”

“Oh no, hehe… I feel… really good.” Billy flopped further into his owner’s vines. The vines, in turn, enveloped and scritched him into sweet oblivion.

“Oh, I understand.” Twilight smiled up at Bernard. “Were you having sexual relations?”

Bernard choked with laughter. “I cannot decide which tickles me more, my dear: your politeness or Dorothy’s vulgarity. Indeed, anal sex is an essential part of his health and wellbeing. As his owner, relieving him is my solemn duty.” He winked.

“Ah, how selfless of you.” Twilight tittered. “Bernard, I must thank you for my suit, but my gratitude exceeds words. Could I give you a hug?”

“Of course, flower!! Come here, you.” And Bernard grabbed Twilight, held her tight to his chest, and spun her around. Clutching her doctor and savior, she flew laughing through the air. A minute later, a subtle nod from Rosa brought their dance to an end.

“Aheehee! Ahee! Bernard you are so soft! I hope I conveyed my great appreciation.” Twilight smiled and her shadows danced.

Bernard bowed. “As are you, my dear. Congratulations on your first trip outside. We can conduct your medical exams here from now on—unless you prefer a house-call.”

“Let us try doing them here. If I am overwhelmed, I may request you come to me.”

“An excellent arrangement. Now, follow me, please!” Bernard leapt, Twilight skipped, and Rosa ambled down the hallway to Bernard’s examination room. “Welcome back! Rosa, Donovan, and I examined you here upon arrival.”

“Donovan?” Twilight tilted her head.

“Greetings, Miss Twilight!” A robotic voice leapt from the speakers.

Twilight jumped, paused a breath, then relaxed. “Greetings, Donovan! A hab AI, in the office setting, of course. Is he sentient?”

“No, my dear. My personality is big enough for this examination room.” Bernard set Billy down on a pet bed. “Now, I will ask you a few questions as we conduct our regular checkup. Ready?”

Twilight raised her arms. “Ready!”

He tapped his pad and began to scan his patient. Her simulated clothes disappeared. “How is the skin? Are you experiencing any discomfort?”

“No, Bernard. It is a miracle. I only feel it when I stretch a great deal. It is like a supportive cloud around me.”

“Wonderful. Are you feeling overstimulated?” He worked his way down her body.

“No, Bernard. Well, a little, but Dorothy and I have been sharing duties. Together, we have welcomed many new sights and textures. Socially I am a touch exhausted, I admit.”

“Understandably so. Rosa will lead you home shortly.” He raised his thin gamma-ray scanner. “How are your sexual needs?”

“W-what?” Twilight’s composure evaporated. “I, I um, what do you… mean?”

He pulled the scanner away with the gasp. “Oh goodness, I apologize I have not brought this matter up before. Without the suit, few feasible options came to mind. With the suit, a new world of solo, duo, or group sexual contexts have arisen. You may receive penetration; we may fit you with a harness and penetrative tools; you may explore others with your hands and words and thoughts. As your veterinary doctor, I must forbid you from using your mouth, receiving impact, and any sexual contact with an affini. Otherwise, you may explore the realm of the flesh at your leisure.”

“I…” Twilight had frozen, her dancing flames still. She swayed slightly in some non-existent wind.

Rosa cut in. “Twilight, I apologize—we do not have to discuss this matter.”

“No!” She shouted. The room stilled. “I… I want to, but I don’t know… um, I…”

The two affini looked at each other, then sat on the floor. They relaxed their postures. They radiated patience. For a time, silence reigned.

“I used to not want things. Now, t-there are two things I want. But both desires confuse, upset, and excite me. I have…” she looked away “…on occasion, masturbated to the thought of the first. And the second is fresh, grotesque, and bubbling furiously within me.”

The affini nodded twice in unison.

“The first, is…” she covered her masked face with both hands. “...when I first donned the suit, and you two commanded me like that, I felt… when you told me where to move, how to feel, what to do, when you replaced my thoughts and filled my mind like that, I…” she shook, then brought her palms into fists and pounded the air. “I want to submit like that… again…”

“Thank you, Twilight, for telling us.” Rosa’s glow shone pure comfort. “No one judges you. What you ask for cannot be guaranteed but  is possible. Bernard and I will discuss how to conduct it safely.” Bernard nodded along with her.

“T-tttth-th-thank you.” Tears and smiles and spasms and terror and joy played quietly along her face. She stood, and the affini sat, in silence for a while longer.

“And the second desire?” Bernard asked.

After a few deep breaths, Rosa stilled, then lifted her head. A new shadow flashed in her eyes. Defiance, apology, lust, wonderment, conviction. She opened her mouth and spoke her solemn truth:

“I would liketo f-fuck your floret, Bernard.”

The grave silence after Twilight’s announcement lasted only a moment—before Bernard collapsed laughing. Before Twilight could react, Rosa leapt and curled around her shoulders in calm embrace. So close to her core, Twilight could feel rhythms filling her body: joy, affirmation, gratitude, safety.

“F-f-f-forgive me, dear. Your proclamation deserves so much better, I simply- goodness, you spoke so seriously.” He wiped dew-tears from his eyes one by one, and smiled. “Of course you can. Donavan, manufacture something for the dear girl, please. Billy, come here, will you?” He launched vines toward Billy’s bed and dragged it toward twilight.

“N-n-n-now???” Even through the comforting haze, Twilight’s eyes widened.

“Sure! Unless you don’t want to?” Bernard roused his floret, who smiled vacantly. A few scritches and nudges later, the floret had his ass in the air with a dreamy look in his eyes. Rosa softly pushed Twilight toward him; her crotch brushed his thin underwear.

“I-I-I-I-I-…” She froze, but her eyes danced faster and faster.

“ Twilight, honey. Listen to nothing but my words. ” Bernard’s vines flew through the air. One grabbed the girl’s chin and turned her head toward his glowing eyes. Two looped around her wrists and brought her hands to Billy’s ass. Three more wrapped around Twilight’s groin to form a harness. She went under in seconds. “ You may fuck him. As Billy’s owner, I can verify his consent. He wants you to fuck him. You would be doing him and me a favor. He has two holes; you may choose either. I will ensure both of your safeties. There is nothing to fear.”

Rosa carried a freshly printed shaft—girthy, long, supple, bouncy—and slipped it through the harness. Twilight cried out softly as it joined her body.

“ Now, come back to me. Five, four, thr ee , two, one.” Bernard calmed his eyes and snapped. Twilight blinked. Her thick, clear phallus rested against Billy’s pert ass. He absent-mindedly rubbed against her. She could… feel it? Glistening lubricant stained his thin underwear. She blinked, opened her mouth, and did not speak. Her doctor and wardkeeper sat nearby, radiating warmth. It was okay . She blinked.

Rosa spoke. “Now, Twilight, would you like to take him?”

Twilight stood completely still. She closed her eyes, then opened them. Her hands did not shake as they pulled down Billy’s underwear. He cried out in joy; she looked down to behold him.

Face down, ass up, all smiles. The man was so small, Twilight could easily lift three of him. Besides a bush around his useless cock, he was shaved smooth. How could someone be so soft? From his drooling mouth and glazed eyes came sighs of pleasure and flirtatious winks. He began rocking his perineum against the ridge of Twilight’s cock. She could feel the strokes. She could feel his need. Was this right?

She looked back to her affini. Bernard smiled; Rosa nodded. This was right .

And so, for the first time in her life, Twilight slipped inside another.

Billy sighed and yelped as Twilight’s head pressed into his anus. Meaningless words bubbled from his lips. Contracting his muscles, he drew the cock further in. Twilight gasped and gripped Billy’s sides. For stability, first… then for control. He had engulfed her, and she had breached him; millimeter by millimeter they grew closer and closer. But she could no longer restrain herself, so she clutched his waist and drew him onto her completely.

They both screamed in ecstasy.

Instinct overtook them. Their bodies moved no longer by conscious thought. Twilight pulled back, then thrusted, pulled back, then thrusted. Billy doubled her rhythm, slamming his hole onto her. Every stroke sent shocks through Twilight’s core. He was so tight . He took her so good. Each sensation joined a chorus of hundreds, thousands of new feelings she’d encountered just today . They ringed around her sheltered self, the quiet half-life she took for granted, and yelled and whispered and danced and sang sacred words around it:

“Come, and be mine. Come, and belong. Come, and be born.”

She fucked Billy with furious joy. She fucked him with relentless need. Her cock tasted every inch of his insides and he screamed in gratitude. Cum pooled by his knees. Her sweat glistened on her second skin and flew into the air. Her body rippled like a lake. She was fast and strong and fat and beautiful and driven completely by reckless abandon and most of all: she was safe . Nothing could happen here that would harm either of them. Inside of this precious twink, she answered the call to become fully herself. Not longer later, she began to come.

Each orgasm paused her thrusts, then redoubled her strength. Like a spaceship in gravity slingshot she flew closer and closer to ecstatic collapse only to dive in for another run. Exponential heights of pleasure tore through the humans’ ragged bodies. Harder and harder. Deeper and deeper. Their bliss towered over them like a pillar to heaven. Higher and higher with every thrust; grander and grander with every moan. And when the last and greatest orgasm hit them both, and the pillar shattered and fell upon them, they lay in the rubble laughing and sobbing and gasping and completely themselves. Twilight sank into the event horizon of total contentment. On the soft pet bed, under the kind gaze of two affini, Billy and Twilight fell asleep.

Chapter 10

“-swe-…art…” a soft voice said.

Twilight stirred.

“-y.. -ear,,…. -uest…” a deep voice said.

Twilight stretched.

“…I wi-… -yself. Awaken .” a new voice said.

Twilight opened her eyes and the whole world was a field of clovers. Some stood stock-still; some danced; some bent toward her. She couldn’t move, but she didn’t need to. Then a hard wind blew and a great face reared up from the field. Nine beady eyes, thorned teeth, vines scurrying underneath. Something blocked the fear from reaching her—then fear rose within her all the same.

The eyes blinked.

“Tell me, Twilight, First Pluribus. What is a person?”

They waited. Twilight’s awakening mind scrambled for her tools: texts, histories, diagrams. She found the nearest answers: “A person is one who exists.”

“Then tell me, Twilight Firstpluribus: what is a pluribus?”

They waited. Twilight remembered the potato-book Rosa had given her. Where was Rosa? She would find her . What is a pluribus. She spoke the truth half-woken inside her. “A nexus of persons. Ones who are several and become one again. Fractal souls linked in destined unity.”

“Then tell me, Twilightfirstpluribus: what is a soul?”

“That which the Great Elsewhere has given us.” This answer came easily. Another word supplied itself: “That which the Everbloom provides.”

“Thentellmetwilightfirstpluribus, where is your soul?”

“It came from nowhere or from somewhere and became mine. It is mine forever. And now it blooms in communion with this world.”

“THENTELLMETWILIGHTFIRSTPLURIBUS WHERE IS DOROTHY’S SOUL?”

“Hey, I’m here.” Dorothy said and Twilight watched her say. In the chasms of her mind, Dorothy and Twilight held hands. “And I gotta ask you something.”

“ WHAT IS YOUR REQUEST DOROTHY AND TWILIGHT FIRST AND SECOND PLURIBUS ?”

Dorothy gave the words to Twilight, who used their lips to speak their demand:

“Could you, ah, ‘fucking put us down’ please?”

The sea of clovers halted at once. “Oh of course. Sorry about that.”

The room returned. Bernard’s howling laughter. Rosa’s impatient huffing. Billy’s tender smile. Her soft body on the hard floor, neither cool nor warm. And a new affini riding a silver seat and gently setting her down.

“Honestly, Yotta.” Rosa’s exasperation drew the room into focus. She was still in the exam room. She had just fucked someone for the first time. It felt wonderful. Everything was good and she saw every color and detail which surrounded her. “You may afflict Bernard and me with your terrible games, but have some mercy on the poor girl.”

“Ah, did I overdo it?” The mass of wiggling clovers congealed into a humanoid form. “Sorry. It’s just so fun playing with you.”

“At- at- at- least introduce yourself, silly!” Bernard chuckled.

“Ah yes, how rude.” The mass extended an arm; it helped Twilight stand. “My name is Yotta Rhizoma, Eighth Bloom. I am Captain of the Crepescule. This means I like to bother people and/or make sure they are well. I have a very impressive office which you may visit any time.”

“Oh my goodness! Hello!” Twilight bowed. “I am sorry I was asleep when you came here.”

“Yes, Rosa was supposed to take you to me a few hours ago. But then I heard about your escapades with Billy.” Yotta sent vines to scritch the man’s head.

Twilight blushed. “Oh, I did not mean to- ah-, I-…”

“ENOUGH!” Yotta yelled melodramatically, freezing the air—then they smiled. “No, really, it’s no problem. You had an essential experience in your personal development and ongoing well-being. That , my dear, eclipses any appointment I’ve made in my tenure here. I’m quite proud of you.” They spared some vine-scritches for Twilight’s head.

Twilight sank into the gesture a moment—then resurfaced. “I will accept your kindness, then. Thank you!”

“You are welcome. Here, and everywhere the Compact stretches.” They retracted their vines and left Twilight to reassemble themselves. “Bernard, have you made any progress on that strange implant?”

“Ahee, ahee-hee… no Yotta, I have not. I cannot analyze the image until all my scans are done. Give me several more days.”

Yotta spoke sternly. “Days cannot be given or taken, Bernard. They come from the Everbloom. But in my infinite grace and power as Captain I shall grant you them anyway.” Bernard, still giggling, brought his leafy legs together and his verdant arm into a salute.

He turned to Rosa. “My dear, take the poor girl home. She is exhausted.”

Rosa put a mossy foot down. “Yotta. I had every intention of doing so. Subsequently, you came here and began interrogating her about souls . By my roots, the nerve…”

“I did that? Goodness me, really? Well then, do not allow me to hold you up any longer.” From the sea of clovers she shot vines to pet every sentient being in the room, then opened the door to the hallway. “Have a good evening, dears.”

“Ah! Okay, I understand. Thank you all.” Twilight bowed, reassembled her clothes, and alongside Rosa bounced out of the room. Yotta and Bernard waved them off.

The two affini shut the door.

“Did you brief Rosa about the feralists’ testimony, Bernard?”

“Yes I did—while Twilight slept. She knows what I know, save for Florian, of course.”

“Good… yes, that’s good.”

“You sound even more uneasy, Yotta, what in the stars has come over you?”

“...you really don’t see the resemblance, Bernard?”

“Yotta, you know as well as I do—despite my extensive time with them, I remain totally face-blind to these humans. I cannot tell them apart. The resemblance to whom? ”

“To a certain floret… no, I’m probably overthinking this. Sorry, Bernard. Let me consult my records. If I have something concrete to share, I’ll let you know.”

“You batty bundle of trefoils. Please relax. Today is a wonderful day! She had sex for the first time! Libido and destrudo! She’s coming into herself!”

“And into your floret, I see.”

“Daddy…” moaned Billy. He could not stand on his shaky legs, but he flopped toward the two affini and smiled a vacant smile. “Those treats were really really good today. Could I have some more?”

---

“Now remember: after you step through the barrier, you are to shower immediately before doffing the hood. Then come to the internal barrier and we’ll debrief.”

“Yes Mi- excuse me. Yes, Rosa!” Twilight’s eyes danced—but her body slumped. She practically crawled through the outdoor barrier into her hab’s protective envelope. A half hour later, she appeared before Rosa’s nook. Steam rose from her suit. She combed her now-freed hair with her fingers and her tired grin lit up the whole room. Twilight was more Twilight than she’d ever been before.

Rosa put down the next volume of love letters she’d received. “How do you feel, flower?”

“Like I have been hit with a freighter. Like I have awoken from a strange dream into a stranger dream. Like I have lived more today than I have in all four years of my known life. Like I need a long sleep in a bed —a thing I actually have now.” She spoke huskily and with gusto.

“You have displayed commendable curiosity, resilience, and bravery today, Twilight. You have well-earned your rest. I am proud of you.”

“Thank you… Rosa.” Twilight’s smile grew meek; she stared to the floor. “I could not have done this without you.”

“It is my honor and delight.” After speaking, Rosa stared. She let the silence ripple between them for a moment.

“Um, Mi-”

“Please do not call me Miss Rosa.”

Shock and recognition hit Twilight’s face. She scrambled. “Oh, goodness. I am sorry. I have overstepped, I just- oh, I-”

“That is enough, petal.” Rosa took off her mask and let her eyes dance before her ward. They did not glow; they stared honestly. “There is no such thing as ‘being in trouble’ here.”

“… right.” She gathered herself. “I need not bow to shame or embarrassment. I will change my behavior.”

“Thank you, flower. Additionally, starting tomorrow we will begin a therapeutic and recreational hypnosis program.”

“R-really!!!” Shock again, but in joy this time. “We will?? You and Bernard discussed it?? Rosa, I thought-”

“We will begin by implanting a hypnotic affirmation. This affirmation may pain you. Nevertheless, it will ensure our mutual safety. After installing it, we can explore other frontiers.”

“Understood. I will bear it. What will the affirmation be?”

“I do not belong to Rosa Rosae.”

Despite herself: shock, a third time. “I see…”

“This is my condition for working with you, Twilight. I cannot take another floret, and I must not lead you on.”

A moment of silence. Then, a resolute nod. “If it means I can treat you well, Rosa, then I will do anything within my power. Thank you. I accept.” Her smile returned—how sincerely?

Rosa stood still for a moment, then replaced her mask and radiated a smile in return. “Thank you for understanding, my dear. Now please, get some rest.”

“I will. Please do as well, Rosa! Thank you again for today.” A short bow later, Twilight was gone and Rosa was alone.

The affini shut off her light and let her body lose all definition. As she crawled along the floor to her bedroom, Rosa allowed herself some tears: of joy, of gratitude, of pain. Her ward had begun to blossom under her care. New life! But what of the old life? With a snaking vine she grabbed Stemphanie’s chisel and held it against her core. 

---

“Twilight, focus on your breath. With me: in, and out. In, and out.”

The Terran followed Rosa’s waving vine dutifully. She had slept the whole evening, and dawn peeked out from her hab windows again. First she saw Rosa’s rhythm; then she felt Rosa’s rhythm. And as Rosa’s rhythm nudged slower and slower, she followed.

“Good. Follow me down like this. Slow, and steady. Deeper, and deeper.”

Twilight’s eyelids ached, but she kept her gaze on Rosa. The affini had removed her mask, allowing her ten eyes to float freely across her face. They cut a gentle orbit. They barely glowed—for now.

“With each inhale, waves of relief spill onto you. With each exhale, the hidden tensions exit from you. Feel them now: first leaving your toes… yes, then your feet… yes, then your ankles…”

Buzzing limp weight crawled up Twilight’s body at Rosa’s every word.

“Over half of your body has relaxed completely. The feeling overwhelms you. You feel so wonderful. So at peace. In, and out. Now, your belly…”

Rosa’s eyes spiralled and disappeared into her head only to reappear on the outer edge. Twilight’s soft flesh sank into the floor, the pillows. Her body sank even as her focus drew forward. Toward Rosa.

“‘The deeper you go. The better you feel, the deeper you go.’ Good girl. Good girl.”

Imperceptible nods. The wave crested her neck.

“And now your head. In… and out. You have relaxed completely.”

Her flesh blurred away in her mind. Rosa’s words rang as real as any body part. Her thoughts slowed, scattered, and gave up. The quiet evening radiated from within her.

“Close your eyes, now. But notice: you can still see my eyes through your lids, can you not? Of course you can. I am now only my eyes and my words and they fill every part of your vision and mind.”

It was only the dark, and ochre crystals, in Twilight’s mind. Emptiness echoed elsewhere.

“Watch my eyes now form a line. All ten in a step-stair. These are the steps your spirit will walk down to blissful oblivion. Focus, with what little strength remains, on the top eye. See it glisten. Count down with me. Each step will bring you twice as deep, and make you feel twice as good.”

Twilight nodded.

“Ten.” The eye winked out. A great rush of air as Twilight’s ego lost its shielding.

“Nine.” The eye winked out. A wonderful lurch as self-control abandoned her.

“Eight.” The eye winked out. Calm dark folded upon itself over, and over.

“Seven.” The eye winked out. Twilight could not recognize herself.

“Six.” The eye winked out. Twilight became part of the void.

“Five.” The eye winked out. Warm void ate cold light.

“Four.” The eye winked out. Oblivion hummed.

“Three.” The eye winked out. Beyond joy.

“Two.” The eye winked out. Beyond… 

“One.” The eye winked out.

Twilight’s bell was silent.

Nothing remained.

What a gorgeous subject. Without flashing her eyes or extending her biorhythm, Rosa had brought Twilight into deepest trance. Her bare soul now floated within Rosa’s grasp.

“ My words are the whole world. Everything I speak is true. You cannot speak. You cannot move. You can only listen.”

Twilight, imperceptibly, nodded.

“ First, let these words be printed on the very cells in your body, the very strands of your DNA: I do not belong to Rosa Rosae. I do not see her as my owner. I do not want her to own me. Rosa Rosae does not own me. I will not remember ever feeling otherwise. ”

Nod.

“ Rosa may speak certain powerful words to me, in a powerful tone. If I hear them, I will obey instantly. Obeying will be as natural as breathing. I will obey these powerful words. ”

Nod.

“ If Rosa Rosae speaks DROP I will return here to endless comfort and obedience.”

Nod.

“ If Rosa Rosae speaks RISE I will return to consciousness as if Rosa has lead me there. ”

Nod.

“ If Rosa Rosae speaks SWITCH I will summon a known headmate to take over my body. ”

Nod.

“ If Rosa Rosae speaks CLAMP I will become unable to leave my body until Rosa speaks CLAMP again. I may speak with my headmates, but I must remain.”

Nod.

“ Good. Good pet. ”

Nod.

“Y ou begin to believe these words with every inch of your neurons: I am of a pluribus. I am part of something greater. The way I am is beautiful to me. ”

Nod .

“ I can find my kindred easily. My headmates feel safe revealing themselves. I can speak with them if I try. ”

…

“Hmm?… I can remember everything that has happened to me and my body. No memory is hidden from me.”

…

"...This is my first time undergoing trance."

...

“... oh dear. Now, Twilight, I want you to feel my eyes hiding in the darkness. They will flick on one by one. As you count up with me, you will return to yourself and to me. One…”

---

“How do you feel, Twilight?”

The human blinked awake. Something had shifted. She had left a place between waking and sleeping. But she was now back in the room. She was with Rosa. She looked up at Rosa. Rosa had her mask on. She trusted her like… a friend . She did not long for her. She did not have to long for her; she was right there! And she would be there to support her whether she remained independent or found an owner somewhere . She was so grateful for her friend .

“Twilight?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry Rosa. I seemed to have resolved some matters.” She tilted her head and smiled. “Did we just exit a session?”

“Yes we did, my dear. You conducted yourself admirably.” Rosa bowed.

“Well, you made it quite easy, my friend. Do you have anything to report?”

“Yes, in fact. But get some tea first. I will have some too.”

“Oh how delightful.” Twilight stood and clapped. “A tea party! I will synthesize some fries.” Moments later, she returned with snacks. “I take it… this session was not of the ‘fun roleplay’ variety.”

“No. That will come later, I assure you.” Rosa dipped a vine into a mug of lavender tea. The mug bore crude loving handiwork and the text ‘#1 Mistress.’ “I focused today on bringing you into trance. Much casual hypnosis can preserve a subject’s self-awareness, but I required a blank slate for today’s exercise.”

“Fascinating.” Twilight chomped away. “So, please regale me. What happened?”

“I first installed four trigger words with which we may experiment. They are—and let me speak them ‘lowercase,’ as it were, so they do not activate—drop, rise, switch, and clamp.”

Twilight phased out of this world for a moment, then returned. “Ah yes, okay!”

“The first will bring you down; the second will bring you up; the third will force you to ‘baton pass’ to another headmate; the fourth will force you to stay.”

“Dorothy and I are becoming familiar with, ah, swapping. Will the last two be necessary?”

“I am unsure. I planted them as a safety net—in case you encounter a destructive alter attempting to suppress you, let’s say. Perhaps the commands will function with other alters, even.”

“I understand. I will try to… inform her of this.”

“Lastly, I… encountered an obstacle.” Rosa stared sadly to the side. She had explained the easy part.

Twilight’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh goodness, was I disobedient?”

Rosa shook her head. “No no, of course not. You were putty in my vines. However, I encountered some resistance where I did not expect it. Someone placed a… hypnotic blockade, as it were, within you.”

“Oh! I have… no memory of this.” Her expression grew grim. “So it was during… the before-times?” She forced a smile. “But those days are passed.”

“Indeed.” Rosa sighed. “I would love to ignore them. However, I consider it my duty to ensure your safety and well-being. And if your past contains danger to you, I must understand it.”

Twilight straightened her posture. “I understand. Alright… out with the bad news, please.”

“Given the strength and breadth of the blockade I discovered, I believe you and your system underwent a great deal of hypnotic manipulation.”

Twilight’s eyes went cold. “Someone did something to us?”

Rosa nodded. “I am sorry to tell you this. You may have suspected as such. Your body was not born four years ago, after all.”

Twilight rocked on her pillows. Her voice ached and pleaded. “Who could have done this…?”

Rosa searched for careful words and found none. “Possibly…an affini.”

The human’s head whipped toward Rosa in terror. “…no…”

“Other species have learned to exercise hypnotic control on par with us, but none quite as effectively. It is the… simplest answer.”

“But why would an affini have…””

“Perhaps to preserve your safety from something. Again, Twilight, I merely offer gue–“

“But what about xenodrugs? Hypnagogics? Anyone could use them!”

“Of course they exist—but only we have them. And they would have killed you.”

She bit her lip. “…but…”

“I do not have the correct answer, Twilight.” Rosa gazed at the ceiling. “I lack so much information. I only have the simplest answer.”

She clenched her knuckles. “What could they have done to us?” She drew her fingers to fists. “Answer me, please.”

“Before I answer: find Dorothy.”

She closed her eyes. In the chasm they embraced. She opened them with newfound resolve. “We are ready.”

“Advanced and persistent hypnosis could plant and erase memories, induce habits, alter likes and dislikes, block headmates from accessing each other, and…” she looked at Twilight’s tense sweating body glinting in the cold light. “...possibly… create headmates.”

Silence. A gasp. Then, Twilight’s frenzied scream lasted only a moment before—

“ SWITCH .”

Dorothy blinked. “Hey what the hell man I was just chillin’ out.” She picked some earwax with her pinky. “In the like, endless expanse within me or whatever.” After a beat, her eyes widened. “Wait holy fuck what did you just do? and… you told Twilight WHAT?”

“Dorothy, go get Pumpkin, now .”

“Huh?”

“Dorothy. Go. Get. Pumpkin. Now .”

“Look, I think it was on the dogbed a bit ago, what does this have to do–“

Rosa lunged for her pad and slammed in a configuration. Waving ginger hairs began climbing up Dorothy’s legs. This was a big gamble.

“Dorothy. Go. Get. Pumpkin. Now. ”

“Alright alright alright! Fuckin’ hell. One sec!” Dorothy leapt up and turned the corner out of Rosa’s line of sight. Silence. Too much silence.

Then, around the corner of the hab padded a ‘human’ on all fours. It sniffed at the floors and walls, but trotted toward Rosa curiously. After finding the pillows, it turned on its paws a few times, then sunk into the soft surface. Its head, posed on its frontpaws, beheld Rosa with a blank expression. Soft orange fur danced across the second skin. Distantly, on top of the system’s polyrhythms, Rosa heard… a high jingling.

Rosa cleared her throat. “Ah… Pumpkin?”

“arf.”

---

“Caaaaaptain, I found something!”

“In the flight records, Zetta? Good drone.”

“No, actually! A few flights in the date range were a bit heavier than typical, but there were no passenger discrepancies. Each Crepescule and Umber-3 resident is accounted for; no one disappeared.”

“Of course. Then what did you find?”

“Could you ever say pleeeeease? Or ‘great job, Zetta’? And if you stick a vine in my intake I won’t be able to tellll you so don’t even think about it!”

“You’re in for it later, pet , I’ll tell you that much.”

“Goody. Well, no one bothered to run a genetic test on Team Twilight to compare with the genetic database. Brambley was too focused on triage. So I took it upon myself to do it aaaand… Twilight Et Alia never lived here or anywhere in the known universe before she came here. But—she has a match!”

“Who?”

“I’m bringing her up on screen.”

“This is… dirt and clods. Oh fuck , that floret.”

“Right? You were right, and you only know that because I told you! Aren’t I cool?”

“Zetta, you will tell no one of this. Not Rosa, not Bernard, especially not Florian. No one .”

“Yes Captain… do I get a reward if I’m go- mmph!! ”

“Your reward begins now. It will last a long time. And it will only end when I tell you. Do you understand?”

“Yosh Mx Rhzimam…”

Chapter 11

Rosa blinked. “Excuse me?”

“y’know, arf. bark. and stuff.”

It didn’t speak like a dog. Nor did it speak like a human genuinely attempting to imitate a dog. It spoke low, casual, almost sardonic—like a human pretending to care about imitating a dog . It rolled its head to the side.

“Oh, g-goodness. You are sapient. F-forgive my rudeness.”

“lady you can just laugh it’s fine.” it flipped on its back and waved its paws in the air noncommittally. it spoke flatly and without emotion. “i am pumpkin kumquat, designated comfort animal for the █████████ system. woof, bark, and awoo to you.”

“Ah yes, I am Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom.”

“you don’t get it woof.” Pumpkin’s face remained guileless as it sipped from a water bowl Hawthorne had provided. “you don’t have to talk to me like i’m a person, boss. i’m not a person. i‘m a little doggie, arrrruff.”

Rosa was out of her depth. “Alright then, ah… ‘who is a good doggie? is it you?’”

“yeah probably, pant pant.”

“You even speak ‘pant’ out loud??” Rosa grabbed the bridge of her mask’s nose. “What manner of puppy play includes such an unenthusiastic participant?”

“look this is what has worked for us. what are you, ableist?”

“I- I- apologize for offend-”

“lady i am not offended. i am just a little doggie whimper whimper howl.” it sat back on its haunches and gave an emotionless simulacrum of puppy-dog eyes. “what part of this isn’t clear.”

“Gina, please get Bernard now . I cannot bear this.”

“what’s there to bear? i’m a doggy haha meow”

“ You’re meowing now ?”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about arf arf”

“Alright, fine . We will play it your way, then.” Rosa stood and tried to look menacing. “ Sit! ”

“i extremely am already sitting”

“R-right. Ah, down .”

“you got it boss.” The dog laid down, paws forward.

“ All the way .”

“yeah we can get that goin’ no problem woof.” The dog untucked its paws and laid on its side. “ooh yeah that’s comfy. hey can i get some belly rubs boss.”

“Y-you would have to back your body up against the barrier. I cannot enter your hab unit.”

“damn that seems really complicated for a dog like me. i will just chill here.” It yawned.

“Pumpkin, could you please cooperate with me. I need to speak with you. Ah, ah! Speak .”

Pumpkin was dead silent.

“ By the Everbloom, sophont! ”

“lady you just have to learn to take a joke.” it rose to all fours, shook itself, and turned around. “alright here comes my dog ass.” it backed toward the barrier, and the suit allowed its lower body to pass through. it then flopped over onto one side. “awooo. gimme the goods boss.”

“O-of course, Pumpkin.” Rosa sprouted vines from her palm and mounted a relentless assault on the dog’s tummy.

“woah that really is the good stuff. you are great at this, boss. woof. ”

A door burst open in the distance and a lilting voice called: “Rosa, you rang? What has happened?” Seconds later Bernard leaped into the reading nook in Rosa’s hab. His eyebrows shot up.

“Bernard. Thank you for coming. I desperately need your assistance. This… dog, person is outmaneuvering me utterly.”

Pumpkin kicked its leg. “you can drop the person part. i’m just a little puppy dog arf.”

Bernard took a beat, then turned to Rosa. “Yes Rosa, it’s just a little puppy dog.”

“Bernard, not you too!! ”

Pumpkin rose, padded back into its hab, and sat politely by the barrier. “boss i don’t see why this is so hard for you woof”

Bernard knelt and scooched by the barrier, then turned to face Rosa. “yes what’s the big deal Rosae woof”

“Stop it! Cease! Enough! Both of you!”

“boss keep it down grrr i’m just a puppy my ears are sensitive”

“yes Rosa, you must accommodate our completely normal canine.”

“THAT IS ENOUGH. I am retiring to my bedroom. I will return if and when you two decide to behave!” Rosa morphed into a sphere of mosses and careened away. Silence covered the nook again.

Pumpkin licked itself a while. “do you think i overdid it.”

Bernard pursed his lips in thought. After a moment: “Yes I do; and, some things need to be overdone. She must be drawn out of her shell. That said, apologize to her next time, will you?”

“alright yeah that’s fair.” The dog offered a paw through the barrier. “pumpkin kumquat, uh third pluribus or so, emotional support animal for the █████████ system.”

Bernard took the shake. “Bernard Bramblewood, Fourth Bloom. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“yeah man same.”

“Do you need any explanation of where you are and what’s going on?”

“nah i’m good. i get to see everybody’s memories. thanks for the suit arf.”

“My pleasure. Oooh, can you access memories for everyone in the system?”

“all except one, yeah woof.”

“Who?”

“████”

“… you have a headmate named ‘Redacted?’”

“no whine grr whimper. ████ prevents me from telling you certain stuff.”

“That sounds challenging, my dear.”

“yeah it’s tough but we get by. hey can we go on a walk woof? usually i don’t get to drive the body. might be nice to stretch the ol’ legs pant pant.”

“Just put your hood and mask on and wait by the outdoor barrier. I will get Rosa. And you will behave, won’t you?”

“yeah man i promise bark. here, shake on it.” Once again the paw reached past the barrier.

Bernard took the hand and shook firmly. “Good dog.”

“hellll yeah thanks man. see you outside.”

---

Two affini and a leashed canine trotted along in the cool evening. Luminescent bell-flowers glowed along the main paths, and open meadows stretched into the distance. Pumpkin’s fur-skin imitated rippling in the breeze. The hood added two flat ears to the orange waves. The mask over its face complemented its look perfectly.

“What kind of role do you play in the system?” Rosa’s voice held a slight edge she barely restrained. She remained quite sore about earlier.

“help people out, calm them down. don’t front usually.” it paused to sniff grasses. “i sort of live internally. even ███████ comes to hang out once in a while. but not ████, of course woof.”

“Of… course, yes.” Rosa mumbled. Bernard had brought her up to speed. She still struggled with the situation. Not only was she so close and so far to the answers she sought, but she couldn’t even tell where the jokes ended and the truth began.

Bernard remained carefree. “Can you tell us anything about life before four years ago?” he asked.

“oh, a bit of ███████, a bit of █████ ██████.” Pumpkin shook its head and sauntered onward. “no, sorry arf.”

“It isn’t your fault. You’re a very good dog.” Bernard tapped his chin. “How about this: can you tell us how Dorothy and Twilight are doing?”

“oh man they are both cuddling me a whole lot right now and they need it. twi’s pretty upset, dory’s not great at comforting. the idea that we are the way we are because of someone else messin’ around is pretty scary to them. woof bark.”

Rosa cut in. “And does it bother you?”

“look boss that stuff’s above my paygrade. i am a dog.” Bernard gave it a look; it gave a look back. “i mean it man. i’m not a person. i don’t wanna be a person. i don’t worry about stuff, i just hang out, and that’s genuinely all i want. not everybody needs to self-actualize or whatever. bark howl woof.”

Rosa swallowed an exasperated sigh. “Alright, alright. But… let us presume you were speaking to Dorothy and Twilight while comforting them. What would you say? Or, what kind of impression would you give?”

After a moment: “i would say that everybody is the way they are because of someone else. that’s just how living works. people change other people.” it began digging in a grassless patch. “and also, there’s like no one way to be plural. traumagenic, introjected, innate, spiritual, whatever. even if somebody put you there, that doesn’t make you less real.”

Bernard and Rosa looked at each other. Bernard spoke: “That’s quite an answer for a little puppy who doesn’t know anything.”

“look man, people tell me stuff. what do you want from me. howl.” it sighed. “can i poop out here?”

“No, you cannot.” Rosa chided. “It would negatively impact the local flora. We can take you back to your hab for such business.”

“figures. alright, let’s go home. having a body is nice and all but i wanna focus on doin’ my thing.” It began padding homeward, tugging at the leash. The walk continued in the soundless air.

When they reached the hab, Pumpkin turned around. “before i go, uh…couple things arf. first: thanks boss, thanks man. getting to be walked was pretty good. can’t say i mind it woof. real life scritches are good too.”

“Of course, flower.” “Anytime, my dear!”

“yeah, haha woof. and uh…” It jumped through the outdoor barrier onto a sofa and turned towards the affini. “you should close these barriers at night.”

“Why’s that?” Bernard asked.

“we shouldn’t be allowed to roam freely. it’s dangerous.”

“The barrier requires mask and hood before you leave, and no one on this ship would ever harm you, Pumpkin.” A touch of condescension entered Rosa’s voice.

“you don’t get it woof.” Pumpkin scratched behind an ear.

“Get what?”

It yawned a gaping yawn, but it’s mouth never closed—it hung open, maw dripping. It spoke with strange gravity: “we are a weapon. we are dangerous. you have no idea what you’re dealing with. arf.”

The air was still. Pumpkin gazed passively at them for a moment, then leapt down from the couch and crawled off to the hab unit bathroom. Rosa and Bernard stood alone in the cool breeze.

---

“‘A weapon ?’” Yotta played with their floret’s knobs; their floret wobbled and moaned.

“Indeed, Captain.” Bernard bowed.

“No no, no Captain stuff tonight. This is serious. Rosa, what do you think?”

Rosa shook her head. “I do not believe it is serious, Yotta. The human military branches trained soldiers to act unfeelingly and effectively—by their standards, at least. Our welcome teams report a great deal of such talk from soldiers: ‘I am but a tool for destruction,’ ‘the atrocities I’ve committed will never leave my spirit,’ etc. We witness such talk especially from OCNI test subjects—poor things conditioned or grown by the Terran military atrocity-mongers’ best brainwashing technology.”

“We cannot be sure we’ve rooted out all of the OCNI remnants, it’s true.” Bernard pointed out. “However, they have never posed a threat to us.”

“We are affini,” Rosa continued, “we know better, we do better, we understand better. Pumpkin, a humble service animal, was repeating what it heard.”

Yotta faced her office’s windows. “The Franciscus captain has admitted, under a complete lack of duress, that all three feralist ship captains were covert OCNI contractors. Null, our hypothetical zeroth pluribus and possible murderer, rode an Umbran ship to commandeer the Benedictus . There is a history of OCNI involvement on Umber-3, is there not?”

Rosa looked away. Bernard spoke: “The colonization of Umber-3 focused heavily on universities and biotechnology. All of them were covertly funded by OCNI, that they might reap any developments. However, our two thorough sweeps of the City of Independents after contact found no possible OCNI presence. No secret bases, no suspicious encrypted transmissions. Nothing. Every single resident of the planet has been accounted for since arrival.”

Yotta’s vines tightened. “Could Twilight’s system have been born offworld on a feralist ship, and grown to adulthood in secret? Or Could they have been cloned? Then they would not appear on population records, and—“

Rosa slammed a mossy leg down to the floor. Yotta and Bernard turned, surprised.

“Captain, you are hiding something.” She leered through her mask. Her rhythms quickened and stretched, rippling with agitation.

“Rosa, I-”

Rosa strode forward to stand inches from Yotta’s clovers. Her voice crackled and boomed. “Captain, you are hiding something. In isolation, none of these details demonstrate an actual threat to the ship. No Terran plot, no OCNI ‘intelligence’ has ever prospered in the slightest against us. But you know something. You, Captain, have appointed me investigator and caretaker to this creature, yet you are hiding key information from me.”

All nine of Yotta’s eyes stared unyieldingly at Rosa. Rosa’s seething light boiled over.

“Since this creature arrived, my process of grief—however unproductive it may have been—has been put to popular vote. As if I were some poor feralist Terran girl who refused to brush her teeth. I have been placed into a challenging role for which I was not prepared nor trained. I have witnessed my ward nearly perish twice . My habitation unit has been compromised. I have been forced to bond with a stranger. I have been mocked. I have been the punchline to jokes from my wards and my friends. I have had to entertain the notion that an affini tortured my poor Twilight and all her alters. All while the scent of my dead pet—her dander, her saliva, her fur—has not yet faded from my hab.

“In spite of all of this, I have executed my duties unfailingly. Because I am an affini. Because I have an affini’s responsibility for this creature, to whom I never should have been assigned. Because I believed my friends Yotta and Bernard, alongside the whole of the Crepescule , had made wise and honest assessments of my needs.

“But you are lying to me, Captain. You demanded I solve a riddle while you hid an essential clue. Every second you stand before me and refuse to tell me the truth—each one layers a fresh insult on my raw core.”

“Rosa, that’s enough.” Bernard stepped forward to pull Rosa back. His hand phased through her moss.

“Am I wrong, Bernard?” Dripping injectors lunged toward both of Rosa’s interlocutors. “Am I wrong, Captain? Tell me!!”

After a silence, Yotta’s words were flat and plain. “…since Twilight arrived, I have been reporting to our former Head Xenoveterinarian, Florian Hosta, 26th Bloom—and ze wishes to take over the system’s wardship.”

Dew. Collapse. No. “...no, I–”

“Why is their body an unprecedented medical oddity? Why is their plurality so precisely tuned to hide crucial information while never lying? Why are they such a poor candidate for independence AND for domestication? Ze believes their presence is a deliberately and exactly crafted attack on the Crepescule and on the Affini Compact: a ‘cognitohazard’ that could undermine our faith in ourselves, our ideology, our culture, and our beliefs. Like Pumpkin said—a weapon.”

Mosses dripped pell-mell onto the floor. “That analysis is–”

“Plausible, Rosa. It’s plausible. Especially with OCNI involvement. The entire ship learned of them very quickly, embedding them in social life here. Those affini closest to them—you and Bernard—experienced episodes of disabling self-doubt very quickly.”

“And we recovered from them, Yotta.” Bernard cut in, frantically heaping mosses back on his friend. “We are handling this. You can hardly judge Rosa for having a difficult time, given her recent history. And you know well as I do that Florian can be… rigid in hir thinking. We simply asked my mentor for medical help—not all this.”

Yotta paced toward the two affini. “Rosa, listen to me. I assigned you this wardship thinking it’d be good for you—and it’s not. Florian can take over for you. Ze may be able to solve the situation medically on hir own, which would relieve you of your duties as well, Bernard. You’d both be free of this mess.”

Bernard’s voice shook. “Yotta, think about this. If ze thinks them a threat, ze will find a way to segregate and drug them into oblivion. The poor things will experience such pleasure they cease to exist. That’s what kind of short-leash ze is. You know that.”

“ I don’t want that. ” Rosa wailed. “ They deserve a chance to find each other. ”

Yotta knelt down. “Then I need you to keep working with Twilight, Dorothy, Pumpkin, and whoever else you find. I need you to figure out what happened to them—if only to prove your old rival wrong.”

“How dare you, Yotta.” Rosa screamed, her light reddening. “How dare you!”

Yotta took their friend’s shaking vines in their clovers. “In my efforts to act in the best interests of everyone on this ship—including you, Rosa—I have harmed you. My friend. I am so sorry.”

Rosa spat orange grime on the Captain of the Crepescule .

The Captain stood and wiped their face. “...once you’ve calmed down, think about what kind of repair I can offer our relationship. For now, I think you should go.”

Rosa was still and then heaved and sagged and wailed and dimmed and lost all definition and glowed and reared and burst out of the captain’s office at shapeless speeds. Bernard sped after her. Quiet evening filled the room.

“Zetta, you’re to redact this meeting from our report to Florian. Don’t mention the weapon comment, either.”

“Of coooourse, Captain.” Zetta twinkled brightly.

“I can only pray for her forgiveness.”

“You always get religious in times like these. Mxtress, Rosa suggested Florian come here. She should have suspected ze’d meddle in things.”

“I know, I know. Speaking of which: any word from the bag of leaves?”

“Well, ze’s asking for video and photo record to examine. Shooooould I comply?”

“Absolutely not. Can you make up an excuse for me?”

“Of course!! Ze already believes you to be unserious and ineffective, after all.”

“Ze may be right…” Yotta’s clovers scattered into the air and tumbled down spinning. “I’ll keep doing what I believe is right, and I’ll pray to the Everbloom for deliverance.”

“Oooookay. Can you also sit on me while you do that?”

“I’ll try, Zetta,” Yotta chuckled. “I’ll try.”

---

Floret passersby only felt two great gusts of wind erupting from the captain’s causeway. But their affini handlers saw Rosa Rosae and Bernard Bramblewood burst dizzyingly through the doors. Rosa slammed a leg down to propel her serpentine form into the Crepescule sky. Thrashing cries trailed from her. Bernard leapt to join her. He looped vine after vine into hook after hook, running two-legged on the ship’s ceiling hull as if gravity were a mere suggestion. He tailed the great mossdragon, advancing and weaving, until finally—wham! He slammed into her side and shot every available vine around to enclose her. She roared and struggled in her snare. Her ochre glow strobed and slashed through the midnight hour. But her friend had caught her. Suspended from Bernard’s last two vines, the pair stilled, and then hung sullenly from the sky.

“…was I always this emotional, Bernard?” Rosa’s voice was three voices.

“No.” Bernard nuzzled her cheek. “And that’s a good thing. You are growing.”

“I loathe this… weakness.” She sobbed. “This need. I wanted to tear Yotta apart.”

“And you did not. And Yotta knew you would not. There is no need to worry.”

“No need ? You understand Florian’s ways, Bernard.” Her song grinded like bitter teeth. “Ze will use any weakness against me. ‘Youthful indescretion’ ze will call it. And then…”

“And then what, Rosa?” Bernard brought his face to Rosa’s mask. The breezes swaddled them both. “I can tell you aren’t just worried about our human friends. You fear hir still, even after battling hir in that debate. Which you won , by the way.”

“There’s no winning in debate, Bernard. We both spoke bravely. The people chose my proposal and allowed the City of Independents to exist, but ze…” Rosa felt tiny in Bernard’s arms. “Ze hated my proposal. Ze fought it root and vine. And through it ze hated me and fought me, whether or not ze admitted it.”

“Rosa…”

“Someone so respected, someone so important to the Crepescule, someone I learned much from, Bernard—ze left the ship after that debate. Like I had hurt hir.” Dew dripped onto Bernard’s creaking vines. “For doing what ze had taught me. Following the path of a scholar. The shame has not left me.”

“Rosa, that’s enough.”

“That is… part of why I moved to the surface with Stemmie. I never felt I deserved the Crepescule after tha–”

Bernard shook her. “ That is why you left? You are speaking Terran foolishness, Rosae! ‘Deserved,’ ‘hated,’ ‘shame.’ As your senior, you listen to me : Florian left the Crepescule because ze wanted a comfortable life away from Terran domestication, away from new ideas, away from the bright young students he raised, away from collaboration with ‘lesser species.’ Ze took hir floret and ran to the Core Worlds. That is hir failure to adapt to changing times, not your failure to respect hir. I will no longer allow you to entertain such TRIPE!”

Bernard’s anger stunned both of them. They hung in silence for a while, wrapped in each others’ bodies inseparably, rocking back and forth.

“…also, Stemmie wanted to see the planet.” Rosa sniffed. “As did I. It was not entirely… cowardice.”

“I missed you every day, my friend. But I loved that you were living a full life down there. And it… hurts me to think you were running away. From me, from Philia, from everyone.”

“I understand. I am sorry, Bernard.”

“I am sorry too. I had no idea your battle of wits with Florian left such scars on you.”

“The way ze looked at me, it… there was real fury, Bernard. No one saw it but me. But I saw it. And I couldn’t tell anyone. An affini acting that way… who would have believed me?”

“I would have, darling. Yotta too.” He sighed. “They are… not on hir side, Rosa. They are being careful, but they’re negotiating their own peace, I’m sure of it. Please try to trust them.”

“They lied to me, Bernard…”

“And if I know that goofball, they’re probably lying to Florian too.” Bernard’s core reached through the foliage and brushed against Rosa’s. “Please, Rosa. Don’t give up. On Yotta, on Twilight and company, on me, or on yourself.”

“…alright. I will continue, then.”

“By the stars, thank goodness.” Bernard’s vines loosened, and the two began plummeting peacefully toward the ground. By instinct, without even needing to look, they both fired vines to slow their fall on nearby structures. They landed, with a bounce, on top of the Crepescule’s moss-covered canopy, looking up at the endless sky.

“Go home, my friend.” Bernard patted her. “See if your ward is still awake. I’ll be by midday for a checkup.”

“Return to your floret, Bernard. Thank you for your tireless companionship.”

“The joy is mine. Ta, darling.” He sped away.

Rosa took some minutes lying still on the canopy. Collecting her body, collecting her thoughts. When she was ready, she hopped down to the path, and began a walk home. From the distance, two gray jellies floated atop a lavender cloud, watching.

---

“Dorothy? Rosa? Pumpkin?” The system’s hab was darkened. Rosa checked Hawthorne: no presence in the bedroom, bathroom. It looks like they were laid out by the reading nook. Asleep, in the dark, on the floor? Rosa approached the nook and saw her ward, curled up peacefully, but… with their hood still on? Rosa flipped on a light: the suit was pure black, toe to tip. Rosa couldn’t see their face. Had they fallen asleep after the shower?

“Ah, affini. Welcome back.” The figure’s form rose to sit grotesquely, all from the hips and lower back—as if they’d been pulled crudely into life.

This voice was new. Another one? So quickly? “…with whom am I speaking?”

“You are speaking to the manager. I will be negotiating matters from here on out.” Purring but sharp. Bitter and cool. Without standing, the figure bowed mockingly. The biorhythms weren’t howling noise, just… insistent clicks. Maddening if one paid too close attention. “I know you’d love to get back to the dear little cadre you’ve been gathering, but you’ve messed around with us enough.”

“SWITCH” Rosa bellowed.

The black pigment spilled away from the mask—Twilight. Her voice was haggard. “Rosa, Rosa it is me. You need to be careful. We are remembering now, please watch- aaahh! ”

“Ah ah ah.” The gray purring voice returned; black pigment rolled up the mask again. “Two can play at that game, affini.”

“SWITCH. CLAMP.”

Dorothy clawed up for control. “Rosa, we-we’re safe, okay? We’re safe here. He’s not gonna hurt us. But you have to… urgh…”

“Now that’s enough.”

The gray voice’s hypnotic power radiated through the barrier; Rosa blinked it away, but the impression remained. It was stunning , far beyond anything Rosa had witnessed from any non-affini. Who in the stars?

“Who am I? Ah yes.” Pigment overtook the mask as the figure pulled it off. The smirk, the low ponytail—this was someone new. “Sievert. I submit to no counting system the others have imposed. Our sweet little doggie let something slip he shouldn’t have, so I’m here to take over this operation.” He grinned angrily. “Now, affini, it is time to negotiate.”

His silence filled the room.

“Gina, a few things.” Rosa spoke casually.

“Yes, Mistress?” the AI sang.

“Override Hawthorne, please. No hab commands for this one. Print him a… baked potato or two whenever he asks. Keep transparency, but block the barriers. No exit for this one, either. Lastly, print me more of those soaps, and put on some choral works. I will deal with him tomorrow.”

His eyes widened. “ Excuse me? ”

“Excuse yourself, whelp.”

“Is that how you talk to your ward, kindly affini?” He grimaced.

“No, it is not. You are, in fact, imprisoning my wards and holding them for ransom. You believe you hold all the power here. I am here to disabuse you of that notion.” Rosa approached the barrier and loomed over the seated human. “Additionally, I have had quite the day. I will speak with you—on my terms. If you cannot abide that, you can release your grip on Dorothy, Twilight, and Pumpkin and speak with me another time.”

“I am the only thing between this entire ship and oblivion , plant!” All composure left the once-pompous sophont.

“Whoever trained you, Sievert, might’ve led you to believe that you are supremely dangerous. If you’ve gathered memories from my friends, you may believe you know what I am capable of. You may continue to believe that as long as you like.” Ochre light flooded from Rosa’s form; Sievert scuttled backward. “But before I deal with a dirt-licking, self-aggrandizing, power-tripping insurrectionist whelp like yourself, I will be having a bath and some rest with some, ah, ‘fucking classical music .’ Good evening to you.”

Rosa tapped her pad and all sound from the neighboring hab was replaced with humming biorhythmic counterpoint. She ignored Sievert banging on the barrier. She headed for the bathroom. As she sunk into the water, she sighed—and grabbed a volume of love letters.

“I really must compliment Bernard on these soaps. They are just delightful.”

Chapter 12

“Now, Sievert, where were we?” Rosa had slept wonderfully and dreamed of nothing. No alarm, nor crisis, nor early-morning visitor had interrupted her. She had greeted the day with fresh commentaries, love letters, and friendly argumentation. She had taken a stroll to see Philia and spend time with her beeple. She had thought to send an apology to Yotta—and did not. Now, wispy early-afternoon clouds hung blithely over her hab as she once again faced down her newest neighbor.

“First of all, I must apologize for my outburst, affini.” His eyes held a gray edge as he bowed. “I acted inappropriately. How might I repair the damage I’ve caused?”

“I would prefer only genuine apologies from you.”

“You wound me!” He grinned.

Rosa sipped a cup of lavender tea. “The only repair necessary would be allowing your headmates to experience the outer world again, whelp.”

“I am afraid I cannot do that, affini. You know not what you ask for. ”

“How so?”

“My job, as it were, is to keep things in control. To protect my dear compatriots and, in point of fact, to protect you!” He laughed, then shrugged. “I am doing you a favor.”

“I do not require protection, Sievert.”

“You may believe that; the gift is given regardless, whether or not you accept it.”

“What is your goal here, Sievert?”

“Ah, finally. Negotiation!” He rubbed his palms. “I have one goal: independence.”

“…and?”

“That is all, affini. I want a habitation unit on the outskirts of the City of Independents where my headmates and I can live quietly and in solitude.”

“There is no solitary life in the City of Independents, Sievert. Nor is there escape from affini watch. Ours is a supervised cooperative community.”

“‘Ours?’ You refer to the dictatorship imposed on Umber-3 like a citizen, not an enforcer.”

“I do. I have lived there. I am partially responsible for its continued existence, in point of fact.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“Many affini scholars requested the razing of the city. Their proposal was quite popular. I argued for the City’s right to continue to exist. The people accepted my proposal.”

“So rather than let it die free, you kept it a painted corpse? And I am supposed to thank you?”

“You seem to resent all we have provided Umbran civilization, Sievert. You have been away for years, but I assure you: no one is poor, no one is hungry, no one need be alone. We see to your safety, because it is our responsibility.”

Something shifted. Sievert’s eyebrows furrowed; he looked away. “Oh now here comes the ‘white man’s burden’ horseshit.”

Rosa bristled. “What was that, Sievert?”

He threw his arms open and gesticulated. “Ah, the poor uncivilized races living in misery. The poverty and disarray. But lo, here comes the saviors! Wiser, richer, stronger, more powerful than us. Colonists whose sworn duty is to protect the poor savages from themselves. Because they know better, of course.” He stomped. “Same horseshit, different era.”

“Sievert, how much of pre-affini Terran history do you know?”

“You always like to change the subject when it gets tough, don’t you? Lead the stupid humans away from danger when they’re pointing out fundamental flaws in what you have done.” He pointed, glaring. “No. I will not let you pretend that Terran colonization stopped mattering when your colonization began.”

“We uphold strict non-discrimination policies throughout the Accord. We have supervised reconciliations, admissions of guilt, and ceremonies of responsibility. We are open to suggestions for other ways we can ensure justice among peoples we’ve domestic—”

“ Do you have any idea what it meant, how it felt, what it was to ‘be another’s property’ back on Umber-3?? Do you really know, affini???”  

Rosa held her tongues.

“It is simply delightful that domestication comes easily to white military functionaries, or to white feckless shut-ins , or to white pervert brats getting a mommy to solve all their problems because living was just toooo haaaard .” He crossed his legs. “How about epigenetics, affini. You know much about scientific matters, of course. Regale me with your definition.”

After a silence: “...in biological reproduction, inherited traits which do not result from changes to DNA.”

“Such a clinical answer! Allow me to counter.” He thrust a finger into his soft arm. “One of the many mechanisms by which intergenerational trauma reproduces itself in victims of colonization. It doesn’t just fuck our families, our memories, our perception of reality, our instincts. It fucks us here .” He thrust the finger into his arm again. “Permanently.”

“Trauma is not eternal, Sievert. We have offered extremely successful behavioral, social, and therapeutic interventions for victims of violence, generational and otherwise.”

He swatted Rosa’s words out of the air. “Does a slave’s son cease being a slave’s son when you pump him full of Class-Js, affini!? The ones that make him into an adorable, cuddly pet? Or class-Ms—making him a helpless doll? Even class-Os—harbingers of his total and permanent oblivion?”

“We do not discriminate medical care based on race, Sievert. We work with each floret to find out what they truly want , and what would be truly best for them . Nothing truly undesired is ever done.”

“A son of a slave has slavery in his very cells, affini. The trauma affects him utterly. What he desires has been twisted by what has been done to him. What is ‘best for him’ is sullied by his inescapable history. You hold independence—the best thing for him, the antidote to right the wrong that has been done to him—as ransom. But his trauma leads him further and further into inevitable domestication. He has not been allowed free choice , because he has never been free .”

“You patronize your strawman.” Rosa rumbled. “You presume a traumatized sophont who becomes permanently unable to make choices for themself. We will not restrict our offerings to sophonts who need more support—else we would further reproduce the harm done to them.” 

“How dare you, affini.” His second skin strained against his spasming muscles.

“Creatures are not a sum total of all they have suffered, Sievert. They heal. They change. They grow.”

“Healing? Healing?!?” He screamed. “Your drugs make husks .”

“The worst possible scenario for a floret is eternal, boundless joy.”

“But you regret your ‘cotyledons,’ don’t you, affini? Those dying humans you ‘rescued’ and domesticated against their consent? Your experimental lab rats, the subjects of your first broken implants, the dustbins of your mistakes. Their punishment is oblivion.” He laughed. “Tell me: how many people of color are on Class-O’s, compared to white people, hmm? Tell me!” 

Rosa ground her branches against each other. “There are so few, Sievert, that we cannot draw a representative sample from the data.” 

“ Lies . The most traumatized receive the most care, is that it? Then the wretched of the earth receive the most brainwashing . Under your care, people like me become hapless non-entities, robbed of their active participation in whatever ‘community’ you pretend to have here. It is paramount to murder .”

“ I will not allow you to insult the contributions of florets under intensive care .” Rosa’s voices filled the rooms. “Hurt people, sick people, and disabled people are all still people, whelp. They do not become non-persons simply because you decide they do. You have crossed a line and owe an apology.”

Sievert held Rosa’s gaze and—after many seconds—looked away.

“Do you hate joy, Sievert?”

His glare returned. “Excuse me, affini?”

“You speak of joy as if it were value-neutral. Equivalent to any other way of being. Is that the case?”

“Joy is a feeling, and feelings are above my paygrade.” He laughed, but his fists were clenched. “It’s other headmates’ business. Moods pass like the endless days. Autonomy is a concrete state of being. Autonomy is something I can fight for and secure for my siblings. That is my only goal. That is my job. ”

“And you attain this goal by keeping your headmates captive, I see.”

“A temporary arrangement,” he spat. “One that would be unnecessary were it not for you, affini.”

Rosa cocked her head. Her mask did not rotate with it. “Do you like your job?”

“Enough with the cross-examination.” He waved her away.

“Answer the question, whelp.”

“I will not, slavemaster.”

“Do you like your job, Sievert?”

“ It doesn’t matter whether I like it, affini. ” He yelled, finally standing.

“Yes it does, Sievert.”

He gasped under the sudden hypnotic weight in Rosa’s words.

“You seem to handle many feelings, actually—anger, betrayal, frustration. Perhaps you quarantine those feelings away from the rest of the system, hmm? Forcing you to bear those burdens by yourself, without help. It must be so challenging, hmm? Relax with me, Sievert…”

“ ENOUGH! ”

His breathing slowed and his arms hung heavy—but Sievert stood tall.

“You will not hypnotize me into submission. And you will not cloud my purpose.” He spoke with raw, desperate confidence. “I am neither your plaything nor your project. You have influenced us quite enough, thank you very much. Rosa Rosae does not own me , after all.” He cackled and sat with a thud. “You imperialist bastard .”

Rosa narrowed her gaze. “As your wardkeeper, I must advise you: any pretensions of feralism will make your independence impossible—as will holding other sophonts captive.”

“And how exactly do you plan to domesticate me?” He shouted with renewed vigor. “You have no drugs. I can resist your hypnotic influence like no other Terran can. Oh, you could torture me, I suppose? Don’t worry, affini, I’m quite used to that!!!”

At that moment, a knock. “Rosa, my dear! I have those Class-E’s I’ve been working on! May I enter for an exam?”

“Gina, let Bernard in.” She turned to Sievert. “An excellent development. We have been developing a xenodrug suite specially tailored for your needs, Sievert. Do you imagine your tongue will remain so sharp?”

“My dear affini, I have suffered torture beyond your imagining.” He grinned in twisted pride. “I can handle the anti-anxiety medication you give to emotionally stunted fools.” 

“We’ll see, whelp.” Rosa turned away. “You will submit to a medical exam, won’t you? Any refusal would jeopardize your independence.”

“Ah, the gorgeous sham of affini wardships.” He chuckled. “Of course I will. I am more than prepared to be the docile, compliant candidate you require.” Both sides of the barrier crackled.

“Do you know why I call you ‘whelp’, Sievert?” Rosa’s mosses shivered as she stood, stretching.

“I don’t particularly care, affini.” Sievert brushed spittle off his second skin. “Is it your pathetic attempt at intimidation?”

“No.” 

“Then why? My mind is changed; how I beg to know.”

Rosa looked back. “Because you have dreamed of this day for a long time. You have plotted a grand drama. You wish for me to play the villain.”

He exhaled sharply.

“And I accept. I am biologically and culturally wired to find you precious and adorable. It causes me physical pain even to be unable to pet you. But above all, I want the best for you. And it is best for you, I have determined, that I pretend I do not care about you, that I act like I loathe you. So I will continue to pretend as long as it helps you. I will continue to meet you where you are. Because I care about your headmates. And I care about you.”

She stood in still air, then walked away.

Moments later, Bernard poked his head around the corner. He looked back at Rosa, then forward toward the human. “Hmm… have I come at a bad time?”

Sievert clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “There are only bad times here, affini.”

“Oh, you’re a delight, hmm?” Bernard stuck out a hand. “Bernard Bramblewood, your veterinary doctor. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

“Sievert.” He made no motion toward the barrier.

“Ah, I see. Hello Sievert.” Bernard pulled scanning instruments from his torso. “I actually needed to speak with Twilight about a concern she had; can she come out to play?”

“No.”

He began to scan the human’s arm. “Regrettable. How about Dorothy?”

“No.”

With a free arm, Bernard brought his hand to his forehead. “My goodness. Everyone is indisposed! Even poor, poor Pumpkin?”

“Yes.”

“Well, another time, then.” He smiled, pointing his gamma ray scanner. “Are you experiencing any physical discomfort?”

“No.”

“Fabulous. And you take he/him pronouns, yes? Do you have any issues with your current gender presentation?”

“No.”

Bernard pocketed his scanner. “Well, just in case, you may adjust your suit’s settings as needed. Lastly: are there any needs, medical or otherwise, I can attend to?”

“Two things.”

“Finally! A multisyllabic answer!” Bernard bowed. “How may I serve you, cutie?”

“Keep your Class-Es away from me—and open the barriers.”

“Anti-anxiety medication will not zombify you, Sievert. You seem quite agitated. Would you like to try a small dose? Rosa and I will grant you some privacy.”

“I don’t need your help, af–”

“That’s enough, honey.” All playfulness drained from Bernard’s voice. “Non-compliance will ensure you fail your independence review. If you would rather remain in purgatory, neither domesticated nor independent, you may continue being a rebellious child.” 

“That’s–”

“I do apologize for being so harsh with you, but like Rosa said, it seems to work for you. So: you will never attain complete solitude, Sievert. You cannot isolate your system from this world. If that is your only plan to protect your headmates, then you will fail. And while you are failing, you will be miserable.”

Bernard locked eyes with him. Sievert’s arms shook with rage. Neither budged—until a ding rang out from Sievert’s compiler. It dropped a cup into its tray; a dark liquid began dribbling into it. Affini and human watched together.

“Enhanced lavender tea, fresh from the molecular printer. It’s quite bitter. It will offer a mild anti-anxiety effect. Have some and take a walk. The outer barrier is open.” 

“What?”

“I’ll work it out with Rosa. As your doctor, I hereby prescribe you a short walk to think about things and fix your attitude.” Bernard relaxed. “And you’re smart enough to know there’s no chance for escape or sabotage; so don’t cause too much trouble, okay sweetie?” He winked.

“...thank you, affini.”

“My name is Bernard, human. And, you are welcome.” Bernard turned, waved a vine, and left the barrier.

Sievert stood alone in the hab. He kicked the floor. He flexed his fingers. And eventually, his agitated breathing settled into regular rhythm. He turned to the compiler. Taking the cup, he eyed the liquid. Brown. Floral smell. He took a sip.

“Blech!” Bitter, indeed.

He set the cup down and waited. Eventually, a curious feeling overtook him: peace. In exchange for a slight loss of coordination, his mind became exceedingly clear. He pulled the respirator and hood over his head, and made for the outdoor sitting room. As he crested the threshold into the calm afternoon, he found three black-and-yellow creatures waiting by the barrier. They cried out in chittering explosion:

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii are you Doro?” “No it’s not Dorothy silly, that walk is totally different.” “Well who is it?” “Someone new?” “A new friend!” “A new friend!?!?” “A new friend!! Hi we’re the beeple.” “We don’t have names but we belong to Miss Philia.” “What’s your name?” “Yeah, what’s your name?”

“...please excuse me.” Sievert nodded to them. “My name is Sievert. My headmates cannot join us right now, though they…” His eyes darted. “...send their regards. If you will excuse me, I am unused to company and require some time alone. Would you please let me pass?”

“Ok but you gotta pay the pet tax.” “Yeah Siev-o one pet each.” “Can it be two pets?” “Yeayeayeah, two pets each See-See and then we will stop bothering you!” 

“...I submit to your demands.” He stepped toward the quivering creatures, stuck his hand through the barrier, and offered each two gentle pats on the head.

They sighed in joy. “Okay I think you need to work on your technique but also that was really nice.” “Yeah what beeple said.” “Exactly yeah. Alright see you later Sievert.”

They flew up in the air toward the top of the hab, where their owner undoubtedly had been observing. He grimaced and stepped through the barrier—it dropped him on the other side. After a few breaths, he set on down the path at a determined pace.

He followed the path in his memories toward the center of town. His suit was completely black—all business. Blue-bright sunlight filtered through the moss, leaving soft shadows and bright patches along the way. He was likely being tailed, though he couldn’t sense it. Better not to check. Keep focus. He nodded respectfully at passersby, but refused conversation; they were likely surveilling him. His eyes did not linger on the florets, or on their white companion dresses, or their zoned-out clumsy walk, or their dilated gormless gaze, or their bright shining obedience-inducing collars. Keep focus.

Buildings, denser and denser. Music on the air. He found a bench near a square. Official statistics Twilight had found indicated a 35-40% human domestication rate Compact-wide—but he saw no independents. After fifteen minutes, he left. No one to interview. He took a back-alley path westward. He scanned the buildings he passed. 

He stopped by the door to a hole-in-the-wall. The music poured out. “Blue Bar: solos welcome.” He entered. 

Long, narrow room with mahogany walls. Dark and quiet—but for the combo in the back. A Nyrian jug band: ancient Terran music mixed with frenetic rinan rhythms. Twilight had played something like this for Dorothy, who labelled it ‘fuckin’ wild.’ A dozen beings, some human, some not, no collars among them—except the bartender. Short, messy black hair. Black overcoat around her companion dress. A huge, thick collar.

“Hey,” she whispered. “You’re new here. Oh, you’re that plural system with the cool suit. It’s so cool I get to meet you.” Sievert recognized her role. Affini omnipresence touched every inch of this ship. “What can I get you.”

He whispered in turn: “...greetings. I cannot eat or drink.”

She nodded. “Figured as much. I can dribble sauce on your arm if you’d like to see how it feels. Otherwise I’ll leave you to it. Band’ll be on on break in 10.”

“No thank you, and thank you.” He found a table and listened. The song’s tempo kept creeping up and up, driven by the squirrel-folk’s enthusiasm. No one minded the drift. Some danced. Eventually, with crackling thuds, the band finished. Applause everywhere. A short speech, all squeaks and chirps. Twilight knew rinans in the compact often wore translators, regardless of status; these did not. A trend among the local independents, or a facet of the ritual? Sievert would have to ask her later. 

Twilight. Dorothy. Everyone… 

“Hello. What is up.” 

Sievert’s head snapped forward—on the table before him floated a cloud of orbs. Chartreuse, goldenrod, gray. He stared.

“Hello. What is up. Again.”

At rest, the spheres jostled lightly against each other—brownian motion in macro scale. When speaking, an outer shell would condense into a cavity. Inside, squishier orbs ricocheted off each other at incredible speed. From each collision came a tiny sound; in aggregate came a low, round, bouncing voice—like a talking drum. The cavity shaped the sound and, with a little focus, Sievert could understand every word. 

“Excuse my rudeness.” Sievert nodded. “My name is Sievert.”

“That’s cool. I’m Anan’anana.”

“A pleasure.” Sievert reached his hand forward for a handshake. All at once, Anan’anana swarmed his hand—a buzzing cascade, a thudding massage, a dull pin-prick. 

The wave retreated. “How did that feel. I’m still testing out handshakes.”

“It was quite something. I did not dislike it.” Sievert breathed. “Ah, forgive my rudeness, but I don’t believe I’ve encountered a member of your species before. What kind of… being are you?”

“Oonomnae. Singular, oonomna. Don’t get it twisted.”

“I will not.”

“So, what brings you here.” The orbs in the swarm’s hard outer shell clacked and rubbed against each other, like marbles—laughter? Agitation? Curiosity?

“I am under contractual wardship. I wish to discuss independence with an independent.”

The cloud nodded, then hummed silently. Nearby, the clatter of instruments and the clinking of glasses. 

Sievert blinked behind his hood. “... are you an independent?”

“Oh. Yes indeed I am.”

He blinked. “...how is that for you?”

“It’s fine. I have a rinan girlfriend. She just played. We make art and talk about stuff. Life’s simple and good.”

The silence, and the light noises nearby. Sievert sighed quietly, then raised his hands and tried to explain. Gestures followed each word. “I’m sorry, I have not been clear. I am in a troubling situation with my wardship, and I seek advice. Was yours difficult?”

“No, not really. Most peoples’ aren’t. Sorry yours is.” Before Sievert could redouble his efforts, Anan’anana cut in. “I have a suggestion.”

“Oh, thank you. Please.”

“You should probably talk with the other people in the situation and ask how they feel. And what they want.”

Sievert tensed. “The situation is… rather delicate…”

“Well you’re not gonna get anywhere otherwise. Hey, my girlfriend is packed up and needs to head home for a nap. I’ll catch you later Sievert.” The orbs floated away.

Sievert stared at the table for a while. He slammed a fist down quietly. Then he got up and left the bar.

Late afternoon. Sievert wandered the paths again. Lovers, families, friends, owners and pets swarmed the meadows. Too jovial. Too domesticated. Sievert wandered into a deeper grove. Where the sound didn’t go. Where the light was wan. He found a bundle of lavender-colored leaves and grasses in a moss-drenched thicket. He sat and did not cry.

...no, Dorothy. You are the bull-headed one. I am being reasonable. I am acting with our safety in mind. I am the only one who treats the situation as gravely as it deserves. I am not releasing control. You have had plenty of time with the body. I will happily recede once we are no longer in danger. But we are in danger... Yes, we are. Twilight, yes we are. You only just remembered. I have had ample time to reflect. Twilight, no I was there– I was among the… no I don’t have every detail neatly available right now. Everything I know I bled for, Twilight. I’ve been around…yes, of course it matters. Same with you, Dorothy. You’re young, I’m… Twilight, you were asleep, it’s the same thing… You don’t understand. You’re not listening to me, Dorothy. It was me and Pumpkin and… my… my other half for so long before you came. And then it… no, Pumpkin, I can’t ‘leave you out of this,’ you were there. You saw it… Dorothy how dare you, do you think you sprang up out of nowhere? I helped br… no, I’m not lording it over you. I am trying to explain why I am the most capable and rational person in this whole system right now and for some fucking reason you DON’T LISTEN TO ME. YOU’RE GOING TO LISTEN TO ME NOW…this isn’t… no, it’s not the same. When it left, that was… it is cruel and unfair to claim they’re the same… yes you are. That is what you’re doing. I need… please. Please, let me take care of this. Please be good. Let dad handle this. I am sorry I yelled. Twilight, don’t cry. I am so sorry. I won’t do it again. This is so deeply hard for me. I will make it up to you in the future, but I cannot let go right now. I am doing this for us. I am doing this because I know the risks better than any of you. Because I’ve seen what she can do, and I can… I can sense why we’re here. And it’s terrifying. Even if you don’t feel how terrifying it is, I feel it, because that’s my job. To feel terrified. And make terrifying decisions… I have a duty I swore, Dorothy. I swore to… God, I miss it. I wish it would come back. Where did it go. Why did it leave me like this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this without it. I never should’ve let this happen. I should’ve jumped in earlier. Played nice. Hid our heart. Made deals… there would’ve been time to explore this world when we were actually free… Twilight, I know you and Rosa have become close but she’s dangerous… this ship is not our home anymore than the Benedictus, or that… horrible… there is so much I have not told you because it is too painful. And I will not tell you now. Because you are not ready, and we are not safe, and there is not time… no. No. This conversation is over. I’m sorry. This is done. I’m going back and getting us out of here. I will be calm, and kind, and non argumentative. You are right about that. I will change. I will do better. Please trust me. Please, please, please trust me. I’m doing this for you.

He stood up, having not cried. He brushed the lavender-colored leaves from his skin and left the grove. Silence. Underneath where he sat, the leaves rustled and rose. Two gray heads poked out from the foliage. They looked at each other, and looked down.

Dusk settled on Sievert’s hab. Light spilled from Rosa’s. He steadied himself. He remembered his eloquence, his fortitude. He recalled the subtle delicacies of this situation. He gathered his thoughts together and wrapped them in a shell. His make-pretend personality. The artificial ‘self’ fit him like a third skin. It hugged every curve and fold and was him and was him and became him and he was held in every direction. It would not let him go.

He stepped through the barrier delicately. He showered quickly and efficiently. Fresh air filled his grateful lungs as the mask and hood came off. He adjusted his hair. He came back to the living room—and saw two cups of hot tea and three fresh baked potatoes on his table. Notes, relayed to the hab AI and scrawled by a perfect machine hand:

“Left one’s regular tea, right one’s the Class-E. Pick your poison. The potatoes are regular potatoes. Promise! ~Bernard.”

Sievert picked a cup and drank.

Chapter 13

“Well hello again, whelp.” Rosa crossed her soft mossy legs on a plush chair in her reading nook. Sievert crossed his thick legs on a smooth seat in his hab hallway.

“Hello again, Rosa.” He tried, but the edge could not fully leave his voice.

“Where had we left our, ah, negotiations?” Rosa glowed.

“...I must first offer a genuine apology.”

“Oh?” Rosa twisted her mask.

“I find myself in a challenging situation. My instincts lead me to act defensively. In doing so I have insulted you, and insulted many residents of this ship. I am sorry. In my current situation I cannot chart the kinds of repair I might offer; I hope, with time, the answers may come.”

“Accepted.” Rosa nodded. “Though you spoke in anger earlier today, your speech carried merit. I will reflect on your words and pray to hear more of them—when your heart has settled.”

“Of course. My tone must be policed after all.”  Despite himself, he seethed.

Rosa narrowed her eyes, but ignored the quip. “At the very least, our chat provided me excellent information about you, Sievert.”

“Regale me, O wise affini.” He splayed his arms and half-bowed from his chair.

“First: you are the ‘manager,’ but you are not the ‘boss,’ as it were.”

He was still.

“Your purpose, beyond what you have stated, is to protect the rest of your system from an exceedingly dangerous alter. You have grown strong and tough in this role; as corollary and collateral damage, you have become a filter to save your compatriots from more intense emotions. You sacrifice yourself because you love your headmates very dearly. When you repress them, you seek to protect them as well. You consider yourself a thin line between that alter—we call her ‘Null’—and annihilation. You resist affini like you resist Null. They share some association in your mind. You believe affini influence could only aggravate her power. Therefore, you seek to isolate your system. The job is difficult. You believe you can ‘handle it.’

He nodded. “A fair and cutting deduction. Continue.”

“I have also learned you cannot ‘handle it.’”

He punched the wall. Hard.

Rosa ignored him. “You have stunted yourself as a person to better serve your role. In their years on the ship Twilight and Dorothy lived simply without grasping their two-dimensionality; you, on the other hand, realized and cultivated your own lack of development. You even cut off others’ memories of you, so you would not become soft. The loneliness has made you bitter, and—unfortunately for you—ineffective. You believe Null has grown strong, but she has not. In your hard and lonely shell, you have grown weaker.”

“I don’t recall requesting your opinion on my capabilities, affini,” he growled. “I believe I have demonstrated my resistance to your ‘mind powers.’”

“Hers exceed yours.”

“How could you know that?!”

“We have met.”

For the first time, Sievert’s guard dropped. His jaw dropped. His eyes darted. “…no.”

Rosa did not waver. “She appeared in the escape pod. Her biorhythms deafened us. She stole all the light in the room. Then, she collapsed.”

“No…no no no.”

“She was weak, Sievert. She had obviously overexerted herself. With a half-exception, I have not seen or felt her since.”

“Half?” Tears fell from his left eye.

“For a time, Twilight believed I had edited or erased her memories. I had not; in fact, you had.”

He looked away. The tears followed.

“Because you have hoarded challenging emotions away from them—frustration, anger, hatred, the like—your headmates cannot deal well with adversity. So, when she believed me her enemy, pure fury hit Twilight for the first time. She could not ‘handle it.’ It ripped a hole in her psyche. Null asserted control and, somehow, induced anaphylaxis in the system, nearly killing her.”

Tears fell from his right eye. “We almost died… because of…”

“Not because of you, Sievert. Because of Null. That said, your actions made Twilight more susceptible to her.”

Tears hit the floor. “I didn’t… protect… her…”

“Sievert, you cannot achieve your goals alone. Nor can you exist only as the goals you wish to achieve. You cannot excise yourself from your own system. You cannot pretend you are not a person.”

“But,” he choked. “P-pumpkin…”

“Pumpkin is a normal, literal dog, Sievert.”

From the tears rushed choking sobs and Sievert fell to the floor and he knelt his head and the sobs wracked his body.. “I d-don’t know how. I don’t know how to let go.” He slammed a fist down. “I never had time .”

Rosa spoke with quiet pressure. “If you allow me to help you, I will teach you. If you demand independence while posing obvious harm to yourself and your headmates, then I cannot help you.”

Then she let him cry, and he cried.

When he had finished, he looked up at Rosa. Mucus dried on his skin. “You win.”

Rosa shook her head. “While you are suffering, I have no victory.

“Before I drop my iron grip on the system, I need your assistance with another matter.”

“And what would that be?”

He sniffled, grimaced, and put on his bravest face. “I need you to…” he sighed. “I need you to find my wife.”

---

“Why a controller? Could I not control this device entirely with my thoughts?” Sievert puzzled at the two glowing bags in each of his palms: soft to the touch, tight to the hand, slight clicks from near-invisible buttons. Over his hood and respirator, Hawthorne had placed a freshly-compiled headset. No straps, no hooks—only a clever biomechanical seal seating the green-gray device firmly over his eyes and nose.

“You could. However, we have found that humans sync more effectively with the virtual reality engine when offered some haptic input.” With her eyes alone, Rosa drove Hawthorne’s thin metal spines like they were her own vines. She tapped at displays on the headset while calibrating a cylindrical device on the floor. 

“And you will see what I see?” 

“And more. I will enjoy a three-dimensional hologram of your line of sight as well as surrounding environs you’ve encountered, or imagined, or received.”

“Ah. No privacy for me, then.”

“For most cases, the hologram unit is optional. The VR unit alone can render a system’s headspace with full sensory detail. Some systems do not even have a headspace, or do not need an assistive device to reach it; however, many enjoy the chance to interact with headmates in a detailed simulacrum. Given your struggles, I suspect severe instability in your headspace. Therefore, I must insist on a monitoring device.”

“Worried Null might show up?” He chuckled.

“Perhaps. But not really.”

“Then what’s your concern?”

“You cannot control or stabilize your headspace.”

“And why is that?”

Rosa hesitated, then sighed. In the cool black void which filled Sievert’s vision, she appeared in front of him. “You and your headmates are all, in your own ways and for your own reasons, stunted. You have not taken, or been given, the opportunity to self-actualize. So much of you is role ; not enough of you is you . Twilight and Dorothy have begun to experience a full, multi-dimensional life—their ‘true’ selves are still taking shape. You, Sievert, are not yet yourself.”

He tried to scoff; instead, he whimpered. “How am I not myself?”

Rosa radiated what consolation she could. “When there’s not enough self to be.”

He gritted his teeth. “Do you even believe in a ‘true self,’ affini?”

“No.”

“Then what am I even doing here?” He stared in anger, in desperation.

She stared back in calm, sad knowing, and offered softly: “You are becoming a musician.”

He was silent for a long time.

“I submit to the projection module, affini,” he sighed. “And… thank you for this opportunity. I clearly cannot do this alone.”

“Of course. I thank you for your trust. I will appear alongside you, and serve as guide to your own subconscious.”

“The Virgil to my Dante, then?” He smirked.

“In search of your… ah, Beatrice, was it?”

“Her name is Eva.”

“We will refrain from searching Paradise, then.”

“Ha ha. Riotous.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Can we get started?”

Rosa hesitated. “In order to begin, I must put you in a light trance.”

He slammed his arms down. “That wasn’t part of the deal , affini,” he spat.

“In order to sync with the VR system, you must reach a precise threshold of delta-wave activity. With mindfulness and meditation, one could reach readiness without assistance. Unfortunately–”

“I can’t do it, because I’m not myself yet. Is that it?” Venom gave way to exhaustion.

“Bluntly, yes.” Rosa’s eyes floated out from behind her mask. “Do you accept?”

He quivered. He was a blade of grass between two hands and a great breeze. “...if I must. And apparently I must. So I do.”

The ochre glow began filling the void. “Thank you, Sievert. First, focus on your breath. In, and out. In, and out…”

---

Sievert awoke in a chasm. He stared upward. There was light—far away.

“Quite dreary, hmm?”

He looked to his left. Rosa was there. She looked normal. He stared at the chasm again. Gloomy stone crags rose to some indefinite height. The way was narrow and did not end. 

“Let us walk, Sievert.” Rosa strode forward. He followed her. She continued speaking. “Nothing about this world is permanent—in consensus reality, or in headspace. This place’s appearance only reflects the present: your entrenched patterns, the barriers you’ve drawn up. Everything here can change. Does its shape surprise you?”

“I wish it did,” he mumbled. “It is simply… how things are. This is home.”

 “...I am sorry, Sievert.”

“For?”

“How much you have suffered.”

He kicked a loose rock. Its echoes disintegrated into low, humming nothingness. “You said it yourself, affini. It’s my fault I am the way I am.”

“I did not say such a thing,” she said flatly. “Do not ascribe your cruelty to me.”

He did not respond, so they walked in silence. The chasm continued and did not change. Later, he asked: “Is this place mine? Or is it everyone’s?”

“Your headmates, by existing, undeniably influence this place. However, as you have brutally repressed them so none other might take control, yes, this place belongs mostly to you.”

"Affini, as I am trying my best , I would appreciate a touch more kindness from you.”

“You are holding three of my friends ransom, whelp. I have placed gentle speech low on my list of priorities.”

He stopped and spun toward her. “No, I don’t think that’s exactly right.”

She stepped toward him. “I believe I have described the situation accurately.”

He stepped right up to her. “I am not a person yet, affini. By your own words. I am a bundle of malevolent subroutines and maladaptive habits. I am repression. After a near-decade of experience to the contrary, I only encountered the vague idea of compromise yesterday. And yet here you are demanding I suddenly morph into someone kind, thoughtful, and considerate? I was made this way, affini.”

She blinked and did not respond. She seemed to expand in the half-light 

“You are the person here, affini. You’re the all-powerful protector race, aren’t you? And yet instead of taking responsibility for the situation you chide me for not being what I have never been. I think, affini, you are relishing the chance to be cruel. You love to play the villain in my little selfish drama, don’t you? By participating, you ascribe my cruelty to yourself. And rather than grab the leash, you watch me spin around your finger like a trapped insect.”

Dark wriggled through her mosses. Her eyes reddened. Vines uncoiled and waved menacingly. But he did not back down. He shook with his anger. He was right, and he wouldn’t take this indignity any more.

“ This is all your fault, you failure of an affini! ”

First, an echoing silence. Second, she raised an arm. Third, she brought it down toward Sievert’s neck. Fourth, the cliff-faced lurched. Fifth, a great wind. Sixth: a great boulder lunged from the cliff wall and smashed Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom, against the cliff’s opposite wall.

“ROSA! NO!!!” 

Sievert clawed at the boulder. There was no seam. He was not strong enough. Rosa had been crushed completely.

“Rosa, I… I did not mean…”

“Oh no, it’s quite alright, Sievert. I apologize for worrying you.”

He whirled around. Rosa, completely unscathed, waved at him. “ROSA! You got away! I thought I…”

“You did. You crushed me like a, ah, hotcake. I am quite proud.” She bowed.

“W-what, I…?” He wept bewildered tears.

Then she was all around him. “I apologize, Sievert. I needed you to realize you could alter the environment here freely. You seem to access ‘negative’ emotions most easily; therefore I goaded you, then threatened to hurt you, in order to elicit a strong ‘negative’ reaction. I can reform my avatar here however I please. Worry not.” She held him and he felt her warmth.

“You… even when you are cruel, you are kind.” He wiped his tears. “This is, itself, its own cruelty.”

“Cruelty is still cruel. I am sorry, Sievert. I plan to spend much time making amends for my gambit. In the meantime, are there any matters I can assist with that would ease your pain?”

He stepped away from her and flashed his eyes. The gray half-light was everywhere. “You can reform your avatar however you please?”

“Yes, of course. Would you like me to take a certain shape?”

The tears left him and he grinned.

---

“This is not what I had in mind, whelp.” Rosa, now miniscule, rode on Sievert’s shoulder. Her strong biosonorities now buzzed tinnily.

Sievert hummed contentedly. “Sometimes, affini, making amends might feel humiliating. This is only a waypoint on the path of repair.”

“I do not need a lecture from you about apology, whelp.” She grumbled. “Since I cannot help you in this body, please focus on the search.” The murderous boulder had uncovered a network of caves.

“Oh, ‘lighten up,’ affini.” Rubble blocked some paths forward. With his newfound prowess, the human shuffled boulders out of his way with flicks of the wrist.

“Can you detect her?”

“It has been too long,” he shook his head, continuing to advance. “She was… she and I were…” Words danced out of reach. “...she has been gone a long time.”

“Why?”

He grimaced. “I am not ready to tell you all the specifics, affini. But…” he slammed a particularly large boulder out of his way. “...we were being abused, she more than anyone. I hated it. So I put her to sleep. So she wouldn’t hurt anymore.”

“I am sorry, Sievert.” The miniature affini splayed vines and rubbed the human’s weary shoulders.

“Thank you, affini.” He swatted the affection away.

“...can you detect anyone else? Twilight, Dorothy, Pumpkin?”

“Strangely, no. Not since we arrived here.” Each cave section echoed their voices differently: sometimes cavernous, sometimes barely reverberant, sometimes disturbingly anechoic and, on this path, a rumbling murmur.

“Perhaps I pressed them down too hard,” he scowled. “And they don’t want to come back.”

“If you believe it here, it will be true. Allow me to proffer another idea.”

“Oh, what is it, little one?”

“You will not call me that, whelp.”

“That’s your idea? I don’t see how that would help our situation.”

Rosa instantly laced miniscule vines and moss around Sievert’s head. Apart from slight room to breathe, all was green-orange darkness. She purred by his ear: “You will recite the following, willing your headmates to wake. You must be insistent, yet gentle—we do not wish to attract attention. Responsively by line, after me:”

Sievert groaned under his gag, then nodded. A small window opened around his mouth. Rosa sang, and Sievert rasped:

“Oh sleeping beauuuuty” “ ...oh sleeping beauty ”
“Oh precious lambie-piiiie” “... oh precious lambie-pie”
“Oh little ray of sunn-shiiiine” “.. .oh little ray of sunshine ”
“It’s time to get uuu-uuuuuuup” “... it’s time to get uh-up..”

Rosa released Sievert; he coughed. “What was that supposed to be, affini?”

“A Terran song Stemphanie brought me. One of her many gifts. You will not insult her memory, now, will you?”

“Wielding grief as guilt? How very Terran indeed. How about I–”

A vine-thwack forced Sievert’s head forward. “Look.”

In the cave ahead he saw… a bed. A great mattress under an enormous goldenrod comforter. Between the two rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell a great lump. It mumbled in its sleep. Sievert stepped toward it cautiously. He reached out toward the pillow… 

…and a strong hand shot up to grab him.

“GYAH!” He tried to wriggle, to twist, to pull away. The immovable hand held him in place as the figure rose from the blankets. She yawned and stretched, then opened her eyes.

“Ohhh, well look who it is!” Her eyes burst with flame. Her muscles rippled. She grinned. “Well hello, ‘dad.’ How’ve you been?”

“D-dorothy, hello, I can explain, I-”

Dorothy shot an arm out around Sievert’s back—and pulled. She wrapped around his body, pinning his arm. Sievert, helpless, fell onto her. He prepared mentally for a suplex, or a throw, or a chokehold. None came.

Instead, Dorothy hugged Sievert long and tight. She rocked him back and forth. They laid together on the soft bed. Eventually, Sievert hugged back.

“Hey pops. It’s so good to finally meet you again.” Dorothy held back her watering eyes. Sievert could feel the rumble when she spoke. 

Sievert blinked. “You aren’t… angry?”

“Of course I am, dude.” She gripped him tighter; somewhere, a bone popped. “You erased my memories. You kept the truth away from me. But like, I get it. I had a while to process bein’ pissed while you took control. Aw, if I had met you like this when I first realized, I woulda strangled you! Haha!!”

“...you… sort of… are… now…” he choked.

“Haha, yeah.” She hugged him tighter. More pops.

“Hello Dorothy. A pleasure to see you again.” Rosa jumped atop the bed nimbly. 

“ROSA!!! You’re so fuckin’ tiny holy shit!! That’s awesome!!!” Dorothy’s arm shot from Sievert’s back and grabbed the affini by the waist. “Yeahhh, come ‘ere!!!”

“Please know, Dorothy, that I submit to this indignity voluntarily.”

“Haha sure whatever you’re sooooo soft oh my gosshhhhh.”

Sievert attempted to clear his throat dramatically; trapped in the embrace, he only managed a gurgle. “Dorothy, welcome to our… headspace. We are meeting via virtual reality.”

“Sick, awesome! Does that mean I can make my muscles bigger?” She finally released them.

“Eventually, you will.” Rosa patted her mosses. “At the moment, I need you to focus on holding form and consciousness. Sievert is ‘hosting’ the session, if you will, but we require your assistance. We’re looking for someone.”

“Twilight?” Dorothy hopped out of bed and stretched brashly. “I can help you look! I never lose track of her. Lessee…” 

“No, honey. Not exactly.” Sievert rolled out of the bed. “We’re looking for my other half.”

“Oh…” she stopped. She closed her eyes. They shot open. She looked at him. “‘Mom?’”

“...yes. ‘Mom.’”

“Dorothy,” Rosa cut in, “would you mind explaining what you mean by ‘father’ and ‘mother’ in this context? Sievert has not been exactly forthcoming.”

“Well nobody said ‘mother,’ nerd.” Dorothy half-grinned. “But yeah, uh… look Siev, I know you don’t want me to, but I trust her. So I’m gonna tell her. Then I’ll help out.”

“Fine.” Sievert leaned against a cave wall. “Make it quick.”

Dorothy turned to Rosa. “Sievert, uh, made me. Him and Eva. I was there to be Twilight’s friend. Help her lighten up, use her body more, get her distracted from uh…” she frowned. “...stuff I can’t talk about.”

Rosa nodded. “So Twiilight’s your sister?”

Dorothy shook her head. “More like her best friend. She came before me. When she wasn’t sleeping, we were tight! Until the, uh, incident…” she frowned. “Which I also can’t talk about.” She turned to the wall. “Dad c’mon, what happened? I don’t remember it, and you won’t let me get to your memories.” 

“It will stay that way for a while longer.” He raised his voice. “We can talk about it as a… group.”

“Fiiiine.” She turned back to Rosa; she leaned down to whisper. “He’s a real softy but he feels like he has to protect us. I can relate, kinda. I thought protecting was my job. But he’s got me beat! Haha.” She straightened up. “In any case, there was an incident. And dad erased Twilight’s memory of me, and my memories of her. I’m still pretty mad about it, but Twilight talked me through it. He had his reasons.”

“He was protecting his family, then?”

Across the room Sievert slammed a fist into the wall. Dorothy winced. “Hey, uh, ease off the f-word for me, would ya? None of us… like it very much. For… reasons.”

 “I apologize to you both.” Rosa bowed. “It will not happen again.”

“It’s okay, I get it. The ‘dad’ thing is, like, a half-joke, if that makes sense? A lot of people like the whole chosen f-word idea, but…” she trailed off. “Anyway. There was an incident, he erased our memories, and we both turned up on the Terran ship and lived there separately for four years.”

“That must have been challenging.”

“Yeah, but it’s not really his fault.” She put her hands behind her head. “I know I keep saying that, but it’s true. I still don’t know what happened to us, but after he pushed us down, I realized he’s a super-kind guy. He would only do something super-harsh if there was super-harsh happening. I FORGIVE YOU BY THE WAY!” She shouted exaggeratedly toward the wall. The walls seemed to shake.

Vines hit her lips. “Dorothy, quiet please. There is much we do not know about this place. It belongs to all of you, including Null.” Rosa released her.

“Oop. Sorry,” she whispered. “That Null seems like a piece of work, huh?”

“Yes, she is.” Sievert approached. “So I think we ought to save the chatter and look for Eva. Can you find her?”

“I mean, no. Duh.” Dorothy shook her head. “I don’t even remember her. But, I know who can!!”

Sievert sighed. “The hound…”

Dorothy grasped her fist with her palm. “It’s Pumpkin time baby. Aw yeah.”

---

The trio wandered the caves together. Sievert was anxious; Dorothy was keen; Rosa was tiny. Boulders and rubble could not stop them. Pumpkin had not come when called, nor had been summoned when sung to. No positive thinking could shift the cold cave walls. So they walked.

Dorothy directed them leftward at a fork. “This way I think. I feel. I gotta feeling. Dog feeling. Y’know?”

“I don’t.” “I cannot say I do.”

“Aw c’mon guys! I got it this time!” She turned, walking backwards.

“You have said so for the last twenty minutes, Dorothy,” Sievert snapped.

“No, c’mon. Look! Light!” 

Dusky glow gave way to moonlight night as they exited onto a high ledge above the cliff-face. The canyon walls stretched impossibly high. Dorothy’s face shone triumphantly.

“Dorothy,” Sievert said.

“Yeah?” Dorothy asked.

“This is a dead end.” Rosa mused.

“Oh...” Dorothy said.

The outcropping had no bridge, no switchback trail downward, no climbing path. It floated insignificantly above the gorge floor. Sievert seethed; Rosa sighed; Dorothy frowned. 

“...Pumpkin! Pumpkin Kumquat! C’mere!” she called. The echoes carried her voice up and down the crevasse.

“Shh!” Sievert grabbed her. “We cannot wake Null, fool!” 

“Oh right, shit. I’m sorry, I—”

They heard dull thuds. Deep and heavy. The walls shook. Something big was coming. Rosa grew back to normal size, towering over the humans. She tensed and shot upward for a better view; she floated down moments later, relaxed. 

"Affini, what is coming?” “Yeah Rosa is it Null? Do we gotta hide?”

She shook her head and pointed behind her. The humans’ eyes strained against the dark. First, motion; then, shape; last, color. An enormous beast padded… delicately toward them. Its orange fur waved like grain fields in soft wind, with shining white spots on its haunches. Rosa stared admiringly. Dorothy and Sievert’s forms looked roughly identical, differentiated only by their outfits. But here! Here was a sophont who could harness their own power. The lumbering form slowed and stopped in front of the outcropping. A goldenrod collar bearing a black jewel. Eyes huge as weather probes hovering in the sky. Tongue like a great red wet roiling carpet. Black gums. Shiny teeth. Wet snout. Hot, strangely fragrant breath. Familiar words:

“hey everybody what’s goin on bark.”

“PUMPKIN!!!!!!!!” Dorothy whisper-yelled as she rushed toward her friend. “YOU’RE SO BIG PUMPKIN!!!! HOW DID YOU DO THAT!!!!”

“hi doro. idk why are you so small haha arf woof.” From its giant lungs and staggering mouth, Pumpkin spoke in a restrained rumble. Dorothy rushed its cheek and begin nuzzling against its whiskers.

“Greetings, hound.”

“oh hey sievert. long time. what’s been up. repressing the system to protect us or some other maladaptive but well-meaning stuff? haha woof.”

“Pumpkin, hello. Please do not antagonize him too much. Your system must practice apology and forgiveness in equal measure.” Rosa shot a few vines out to scritch the insides of its floppy ears.

“oh hey boss yip yip. thanks for guiding them so far. i can take it from here. and i know sievert’s whole deal don’t worry arf. deep down he knows i love him.”

“Hmph. You get all kinds of strange ideas in that big head of yours, hound.”

“no i dunno what you mean i am just a little silly puppy woof”

“YEAH YOU’RE SUCH A GOOD DOG!!!!” Dorothy had clambered up to the top of Pumpkin’s snout. She took to scratching it between the eyes; her dog panted contentedly.

Sievert cleared his throat—audibly, this time. “Pumpkin, we require your assistance. We are searching for Eva. Can you find her?”

“whine woof. i have good news and bad news and good news and news that is both good and bad arf.”

“So, on average, good news. Regale us.” Sievert crossed his arms.

“well woof good news is that she is here. the bad news is that she’s been asleep so long that she is diffuse as in like she isn’t exactly anywhere woof. the good news is that she will appear when we need her most or something arf.”

“And the mixed news?” Sievert glanced over to Rosa—who shot sudden vines at Dorothy and Sievert, binding them. He finally noticed the walls hadn’t stopped shaking.

“we need her very badly because we are in a lot of trouble arf”

Rosa pulled the humans toward her then leapt onto Pumpkin’s head. A strange sound—pure static—drew their eyes upward. The distant moon had fallen impossibly close to the crevasse’s edge. It was blinding. Slimy beads of milk-white light dripped down the walls toward the canyon floor. Toward them . Rosa cinched them to the giant canine’s fur. She shouted, full-throated:

“ Pumpkin, we are on. GO !”

Chapter 14

Bright jingles and heavy thumps joined the encroaching static as Pumpkin shot down the crevasse away from the light. Cascading debris bounced off Rosa’s shielding vines. The glow lit the canyon all stark and wrong. An examiner’s light. A soulless light. The static screamed viciously.

“WHAT IS THAT THING, ROSA?” Dorothy shouted.

“Null,” Sievert answered, face pale and drained.

“WHY DO YOU CALL HER THAT, DAD? DON’T YOU KNOW HER NAME? WHO SHE IS? HAVEN’T YOU MET? DON’T YOU KNOW EVERYTHING??” Dorothy grabbed him, shook him. Kept him close.

“I know nothing , Dorothy.” He clung close to her. “She has hidden everything . She has her hooks everywhere . And she wants to erase us.”

“BUT THIS IS JUST A SIMULATION, RIGHT? ROSA???” 

The affini held her core close to the two humans, radiating what comfort she could. But she sparked with fear. “I am sorry, Dorothy… this is your mind. This is all of your minds. This is real. Only I am a simulation. She could swallow you. She could hide you. She could change you. She could kill you .”

“OH FUCK THAT’S NO GOOD!” Dorothy leaned down and shouted toward Pumpkin. “HEY THIS IS REALLY BAD PUMPKIN CAN YOU GO FASTER?”

“i’m goin as fast as i can woof” Pumpkin panted. “also you don’t need to yell whimper”

“WHERE DOES THIS GO???” Dorothy looked back and yelped. “FUCK IT’S LIKE RUSHING TOWARD US NOW. WAIT WHERE IS TWILIGHT???? SHIT!!!!!”

Rosa shot a vine down Pumpkin’s collar; she pulled back the black jewel. “She is fine. Pumpkin must have retrieved her previously.”

“OH THANK FUCK OKAY. BUT WAIT WHERE IS THIS GO-”

Sievert shook her. “Honey please stop yelling I can’t handle this anymore I am so scared I am terrified I need you to trust Pumpkin and I need you to look after me right now because taking control of the body drained me and now I have nearly lost everything I’ve ever fought for please I can’t I can’t anymore please ”

“DA- hey, hey. It’s okay. I got you. Rosa’s got you. Pumpkin’s got us. We’re gonna be fine.” Their quiet embrace lasted not nearly long enough.

“ok, everybody hang on tight because we gotta jump for it woof”

Dorothy whirled. “WHAT!?!”

They looked forward and everything lurched. Upward and downward and every direction held gray nothingness. They looked back: slick laughing moonbeams geysered out toward them from the canyon. The wind whipped and they fell faster and faster. But the light gained on them. Closer and closer. Louder and louder. Spraying out in a shower. Roaring splatter threatening to drown them. Sievert howled above the cacophony:

“EVAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Then they broke through a cloud layer and— WHUMP !—fell harmlessly into a soft golden expanse.

It was quiet.

“oh sick we made it woof. is everybody okay? arf” Pumpkin, now canid-sized, shook its fur and panted. 

“YE-yeah, all good.” “Yes, Pumpkin. Good dog” “I’m fine. I’m fine. Where are we?”

They rose slowly from the divot their fall had made. They beheld felten vistas of soft-glowing gold. The distant gray sky cast a quiet shadow over everything. The static was gone.

“Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere safe.” Rosa loosened her grips on the humans—then launched into mercilessly scritching Pumpkin’s fur.  

Sievert shook his head. “But where?”

“...hello?” boomed a new voice.

The hilly vistas shifted. Soft dull copper emerged from the golden folds—an arm. A gigantic arm. The mountains rolled over toward them, and from a great black ocean of hair rose a woman’s face. Above its smooth dimples, two eyes blinked awake. The face yawned, then frowned, then squinted, then blinked, then gasped. 

“... Sievy!? Is that you…???”

“...Eva?”

“SIEEEEEVVVVYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!” The giant woman grabbed Sievert and brought him to her rosy cheek. “Hi!!!!! You came!!!!!!!!” She nuzzled him mercilessly.

“...Eva! Eva!!! Eva my love!!” Sievert wept in disbelief. He flailed and swooned. “My soul and guiding star!! Eva!!!!”

She brought him to his lips and nearly swallowed him with a single kiss. He laughed in relief, in desperation, in longing, in gratitude; she simply laughed. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t judge, but… kinda opposites attract, those two, huh?” Dorothy picked some earwax with her pinky.

“Indeed. Also, Dorothy, I apologize for my half-lie earlier.”

“Huh?”

“We live in the Affini Compact. What’s more, you are my ward. I would never allow you to experience actual danger.” She bowed.

“yeah. sorry to worry you dory whimper. boss whispered me the plan while scritching my ear and we baited ████ out on purpose arf.” 

“Ohh. If we believed we would find Eva, then we would find her? I guess that makes sense.” Dorothy pondered for a moment. “Daaang, you’re really strong though. You could have beat up Null and taken out that cum-wave? Just like that?”

“...not quite. Much like I could not force Sievert to relinquish control, I cannot defeat Null in your headspace. In the event of any grievous threat I would simply cut the simulation.”

“Freaky. Freaky-deaky, even.” She shook off her tension. “Anyway yeah no worries! Dad’ll be mad but like whatever.”

The group looked over to Sievert—who was now wedged between Eva’s breasts. He yelped and hollered in jubilation. Worry-creases and grimace-lines had all left his face. Eva giggled playfully, rocking back and forth. 

“Hey uh, dad. Can I uh. Meet my mom.”

“Mom????” Eva asked in a soft, breathy tone. She squinted down. “You are… who are you????”

“WHAT!!!!! YOU’RE MY MOM AND YOU DON’T REMEMBER ME!?!?!”

“Oh, yelling!!!! Then you’re… Dorothy!!!! Come here sweetie!!!!!!” An arm erupted from the sheets and grabbed the human, who was whisked off with a scream. Nuzzles ensued.

Pumpkin beat its tail against the cushioned ground.  “it’s not every day you can see a reunion like this huh woof.”

“Pumpkin, please join them. It is your reunion as well.”

It paused a second, looking back to Rosa. “are you uh. are you gonna be okay boss. whimper.”

She patted its haunches and a warm love sang through her. “My sophonts’ joy is my own. I will be fine.”

With another brief look back, Pumpkin bounded off to join the cuddle pile. Dorothy’s shouts grew playful and happy. Sievert sobbed joyfully. Pumpkin rubbed its back into Eva and her scritches. They were loud without speaking; words of joy flowed through them silent and understood. Dorothy noted the beauty of their song: Sievert’s clicking, Dorothy’s beating, Pumpkin’s jingling, and Eva’s soft synthetic swells. All that was missing was… 

“Where is Twilight???? I want to!! Give her a hug!!”

“here, big lady. she‘s been cocooned here for a bit arf. figured you could wake her?”

“Yeah!!!!!!!” Eva stuck Dorothy in her bosom and brought both hands to Pumpkin’s golden collar. After a few tries, she unlatched the jewel. “Twilight, honey. It’s time to wake up!!!” She kissed the jewel; it shone soft shadow on all of them. The stone dissipated; naked Twilight fell into Eva’s hands. She set her in her bosom with the rest. Twilight stayed asleep, but slowly her tolling peals rang once more.

“She is tuckered out!! Oh baby!!!” Eva petted her hair with a plate-sized fingernail. All headmates sat in smiling quiet, admiring their snoring comrade.

“Excuse me; are you the girl’s mother?” 

Pumpkin, Sievert, Dorothy, and Eva abandoned their reverie and gazed at Rosa; she bowed. 

“I apologize for the interruption. I am called Rosa Rosae, Third Bloom. I aided Sievert and Pumpkin with finding you, Eva.”

“You did???? Oh thank you!!! Sievy you asked for help!!! What a good wife-and-also-husband!!!” Eva’s focus drifted back into her partner. Rosa looked at him carefully.

“...not exactly. I have much to apologize for.” Sievert mumbled haltingly.

“What do you mean???? Sievy what does the nice plant lady mean??” 

He tried to sink away into her cleavage. “I would prefer to discuss it later, if possible.”

“We have to catch up for lost time!!! Come on, please??? For wifey????” Eva warbled playfully.

He stared into nothing. He took deep breaths that calmed him not at all. After his joyful reprieve, the pain welled up in him all the deeper. Eventually he let the sobbing words tumble out: “Eva you have been asleep for seven years.”

In a millionth of a fraction of an instant, everything went black. Something crumpled. A flickering sodium light came alive above a black void. Eva—no longer gargantuan—knelt pained and wincing on a cold metal floor. Dorothy stood in front of her, Sievert clutched her side, Pumpkin curled up by her stomach, and Twilight lay unconscious behind them all. In front of them, a body—one of them. No sound. Not their biorhythms, not their polyrhythms—nothing. All naked. Rosa reached for the figures and stopped short. They were still, dollike. A kind and distant humming filled the air—a melody, a lullaby.

“Second, there was me.” A spotlight clunked to life above Twilight. Her face did not speak; her voice yet spoke. “I was alone and not alone. I’d wake up to a fist at my face. It was always mine. But I never threw it. Someone was torturing me. It was… that woman . I never learned why. She still keeps some memories from me. But not all. The brain damage took some. I’ll never get them back.

“Third, there was Pumpkin.” A spotlight clattered and focused on the dog. “It made itself. It could not protect me. But it comforted me. It licked my wounds for me. It was my first friend. I kept it hidden. I kept it safe. It could not keep me safe. But it tried. At the end, when… that woman found it, she kept it from speaking. But it saw everything. 

“Fourth, there was my nonnie.” Another spotlight—on the corpse. “I summoned her. I needed her too badly. She consoled me. She taught me to be careful. And how to play. I hid her too. When I was alone, she would give me advice. Comfort me. She taught me not to hate myself. I never have. Because of her. When… that woman found her, she… 

“Fifth and sixth were Sievert and Eva.” Sudden harsh light accented their wrinkles and worry-lines under floating dust-motes. “I should not have made them. But I did not have a choice. It became so bad. I wanted protectors. Sievert took the physical abuse. When the blows hit I didn’t feel them. Eva took the emotional abuse. When the words came she absorbed them. But it could not last. Sievert loved her so much he put her to sleep after the first incident. He stayed to take both kinds of pain. It twisted him.

“Seventh was Dorothy.” The light made her even bolder. “Before Eva slept, she and Sievert made her. She turned out like her dad. Strong. But uncareful. Together they stood up to… that woman , directly. It was our first time fighting back. And… that woman killed my Nonnie for it.” The light above the corpse went out and the warm humming lullaby stopped and the silence was cruel. “We kept on going. Taking the abuse. Never attacking—never again. Always defending. Living. Not dying. It went on like this for a while.

“One day, everything changed.” The floor disappeared with a soft pop. “ That woman launched an attack to kill us all. We resisted. She was strong. But also she was weak. Old. We remained. She vanished.” The floor reappeared. “But we were too broken. It hurt so much when she was there. It hurt much more when she was gone. We could not live without the suffering. Healing was impossible. So Sievert erased my memory. And Dorothy’s memory. Pumpkin swore to secrecy. Sievert went dark, just in case. And we lived like that for four years. Happy, and nowhere.

“But we were wrong.”

Clunk . One by one— clunk —spotlights shone on them from every angle.

“She did not vanish.”

Clunk. Under the light the figures— clunk —started to melt. Clunk .

“She was waiting.”

Clunk . Clunk ! CLUNK! CLUNK!! CLUNK !! CLUNK!!!! CLUNK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

---

Twilight woke in light. Soft light. Ochre radiance, warm to the touch. Smooth. And music—sweet and familiar. It encompassed her. She stirred. Then she was dragged away into a different light. 

“Oh, you are awake. I thank every star.”

“Rosa?”

Twilight recognized her hab unit behind her. She recognized Rosa’s half of the hallway before her. And she recognized Rosa, her wardkeeper and friend, above. She smiled. Rosa was so beautiful, wasn’t she?

“Welcome back, Twilight.” Somehow, Twilight felt Rosa tense her innermost vines. What was the matter?

“Back? Where did I…” When the memories hit her, they felt far away.

“I have given you an anti-anxiety medication called a Class-E drug. Intravenous. The shot damaged your suit, but its healing capabilities have been more than effective. I imagine you have much to process; I will take my leave, and Hawthorne will sanitize the hab. Then you may shower, and–” 

Rosa was standing to leave.

“Stay.” Twilight sat up and, in one motion, clung to Rosa’s belly.

“Twilight, that is not wise. You might–”

“Just a little longer.” 

“...” Rosa untensed, relenting. They spent a few moments in silence. Twilight heard Rosa’s doubt submerge under sweet fractal melodies. 

“Thank you.” Twilight stood up and smiled. Behind her eyes danced many colors.

“Do you remember?” Rosa asked, rising, dusting off her feelings.

“We remember.” The voice came from behind Twilight. Rosa’s head shot up—Dorothy stood there in the hologram, grinning solemnly. The wardkeeper glanced back to Twilight—the VR headset lay on the floor. Twilight smiled sheepishly. 

“The girl is much stronger than she—or you—had been led to believe.” Rosa wheeled again. Sievert had joined Dorothy in the hologram. Eva stepped down to wrap her arms around both their shoulders. Pumpkin padded in and sat at their feet. 

“Yeah!! She’s a tough cookie!!” Eva’s smile broke, and she started to weep. “Even though s-she s-shouldn’t have to be!!!!!”

“Aw mom, c’mere.” Dorothy turned around to embrace her. Sievert rolled his eyes—then yelped as Dorothy pulled him into the embrace. Rosa looked at Twilight.

“Rosa, I would like to request that you leave the hologram projector here. It is very convenient for us to meet, um, in person, as it were.” She walked over to the hologram. The figures opened their arms, and she stepped between them. Glowing spectral hands enwreathed her. They all closed their eyes. Oh, how she smiled.

How they all did. 

“Of course, Twilight.” Rosa nodded. “You never fail to surprise. Please keep your mask and hood on for a while longer. Hawthorne will advise you when the hab unit is decontaminated. I imagine you all would enjoy a reunion, and I… should take a walk. At the touch of a pad, however, I will return.”

“Of course, Rosa. I imagine that was challenging for you. Please take your space. Before you leave, um…” She and her four headmates turned toward the affini, spread themselves in a line, glanced at each other—and bowed.

“““““Thank you, Rosa!! For everything!!”””””

---

Rosa wanted to wither. She wanted Bernard to come rescue her. She wanted Philia to place her florets all over her body. Instead, Rosa walked calmly through dead of night toward Yotta’s office. Past the parks with young loves and old loves alike. Past the unassuming exterior near the docking bay. Past the corridors and the causeways to the door—which did not open.

She knocked.

“...in the name of every leaf of the Everbloom, who, at this hour? Who, without even scheduling an appointment, or pinging beforehand? In the middle of– ugh . What–” Yotta slammed the doors open. “...Rosa?”

“Captain, I must speak with you. May I enter?”

Waves rippled along Yotta’s clovers for a moment. Then, stillness. They splayed an arm invitingly and Rosa entered her office. Though Yotta gestured to the couch, Rosa walked to the desk and stood. Eventually, Yotta sat in the captain’s chair.

“Captain, I am here to apologize for my behavior yesterday.”

“Rosa, there’s no need. I get it, the…” Yotta was stopped by a glare. They paused, then straightened up in their seat. “Rosae. I must remind you such behavior is unacceptable on this ship.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“Verbal abuse. Insubordination. Questioning a collective decision. And threatening a crewmember, much less a superior, with xenodrug injectors. I could have you court-martialed.”

“I fully understand the ramifications of what I have done. If such a punishment awaits me, then I accept it gladly—as long as it moves me one iota toward repairing the damage I have caused.”

“You know not what you ask for, Rosae. I could make you suffer terrible fates a post-scarcity society has long made impossible. I could make you rebloom four, five, six times over. But I have chosen a special punishment for you.”

“Of what manner, Captain?”

With lightning-quick vines, Yotta grabbed their under-desk attendant and slammed them on Rosa’s side of the desk. “You will sit on my floret and talk to me like a normal fucking affini for once.”

“...I accept,” she sat delicately and radiated a warm smile, “Yotta.” 

Rosa’s friend lunged clover-laced vines across their desk and wrapped around her hands. “Oh Rosa, I am so sorry. I know this must be so hard for you.”

“It is alright, Yotta.” Rosa gripped the vines. “I am genuinely sorry as well. I should not have lashed out.”

“Even still, you were right. I was hiding something from you. Stars above,” Yotta began to cry, “I still am.”

“And you do so in the best interest of myself, my ward, all residents of the ship, the City of Independents, and even my old teacher. For a moment, I valued my grief and anger and overwhelm above the centuries of trust you have earned. ”

“Rosa, I truly didn’t think things would get so messy. I only wanted to give you a little job to help you. Not thrust you into an existential crisis.”

“I know, Yotta. Though the effect departs from the intent, your intention reaches my core yet still and has—despite myself—carried me through this fraught and lugubrious period.”

“ Rosa I thought I told you to talk like a normal affini ,” Yotta sob-laughed.

“I am open to many avenues for repair, Yotta, but I cannot acquiesce in this matter. I am how I am.” 

“And thank the Bloom for that.” Yotta squeezed her friend one last time, then retracted her vines. “Thank you for coming to tell me. I never blamed you, and I accept your apology.”

“Thank you.” Rosa bowed lightly in her seat. “I also came to submit a report.”

“In person? Delightful. What happened?”

Rosa explained, in lurid detail, the events of the last day.

“My goodness.” Yotta rumbled and roiled. “Quite the development. I must note, before we discuss further, that I am particularly proud of you for taking a bath instead of letting Sievert walk over you.”

“You inspired me then, Yotta, as you inspire me now.”

“Alright. You’ve told me the rough shape of the matter. What’s your analysis? What’re we dealing with?”

“Null and Twilight are First and Second Pluribus of the system. Null began as a rather extreme form of Persecutor, where Twilight began as an extreme Victim. Their initial origins as split headmates are unknown; however, Twilight’s history of hypnosis indicates that some third party may have generated, influenced, manipulated, and/or tortured the system into existence. I will refer to them as… Handler.” 

Yotta winced. 

The wardkeeper continued: “We can assume, for now at least, that this Handler was also the Umbran accomplice who flew Null to the Benedict —an OCNI-controlled dark site even we were not aware of. Consequently, we can assume Handler and Null acted under OCNI orders with OCNI backing to execute an OCNI covert project.”

“A cruel fate,” Yotta murmured. “What’s the timeline here?”

“The OCNI began a variety of bioweapons projects when they first suspected affini presence—around 2549 CE, twelve years ago. According to Sievert, all known system alters had come to exist as of 2554 CE, seven years ago. At that time, there was some sort of internal/external battle after which Sixth Pluribus Eva went dormant and Fourth Pluribus ‘Nonnie’ was… killed.” Rosa bowed her head.

“...awful. It’s just so awful,” Yotta whimpered.

“...in any case, the system has likely existed for seven to twelve years. The other headmates appear to have been generated accidentally or purposefully by Twilight—however, Null and/or Handler may have secretly influenced the process. As for the body, we have no clue yet—it could have been raised naturally over decades, or grown artificially to adulthood over a few years.”

“...and the body’s transition?”

Rosa was silent.

Yotta shook her head. “...let’s jump forward to the Benedict boarding.”

“Around 2557 CE, approximately four years ago—and curse those Feralists for only keeping approximate records—Null and Handler moved the system onto the Benedict . Most likely, Handler departed Umber-3 on an Umbran shuttle, jumped to an OCNI compound, retrieved Null, couriered her to the Benedict , compromised the shuttle’s flight logs and tracking, and returned to Umber. Once the time was right, Null would activate an unshielded beacon, draw us in, and plant the system on the Crepescule . However, after an internal power struggle against her headmates, Null either chose or was forced to delay her plans.”

“But how could Handler, a probable Umbran, have been… influencing a system located offworld?” Yotta protested.

After a pause, Rosa spoke quietly: “There are no OCNI facilities on Umber-3. The City surveillance is excellent. Therefore, the system was not here. Additionally, no headmates recall abuse from anyone but Null. So, perhaps by… inducing and training a violent, self-abusing Persecutor, the Handler could… direct a headmate to execute the program for them. Only occasional maintenance would be necessary.” Rosa choked through the end of her explanation.

Yotta’s face plopped onto her desk. “By the Everbloom, the horror of it,” they croaked. “This is so much worse than I thought.” They looked up at Rosa. “I am so, so sorry Rosa. No affini should have to witness such cruelty in the throes of grief.”

Rosa shone a sad smile. “I have taken many opportunities to weep, Yotta. Irresponsibly many, maybe. At the moment, I feel little except  a responsibility to rescue these beings from the OCNI’s cruel designs—and Class-O their Handler into complete oblivion.”

“You’re incredible,” they sniffed. “Really, truly.” They collected themself and, after a moment, nodded. “So what is the goal? For OCNI, for Handler, and for Null?”

“They are united; they seek to infiltrate life on the Crepescule and enact discord and confusion in hopes of destabilizing affini society writ large.”

“So you and your teacher are in agreement?” Yotta’s eyes widened.

“No.” Rosa’s voice echoed firmly.

“Oh?” Yotta raised an eyebrow.

“My teacher, in hir great wisdom and insight, has euphemistically borrowed the 21st century terran philosophical concept of an ‘information hazard.’ He likely calls it a cognitohazard to, and I must borrow the Terran vernacular here, ‘sound cool.’” Yotta stifled a giggle. “Ze believes the following: ‘infohazards’ can exist in a philosophically coherent manner; the concept accurately explains the OCNI’s intention; and the concept accurately predicts the consequences of Null’s arrival. Ze is correct only in one third of the matter.”

“Rosa, get to it.” Yotta glared.

“I agree only that the OCNI were likely acting under the ‘infohazard’ pretense. The concept, after all, became an essential and effective tool of social control under Terra’s technocratic capitalism. However, the concept carries no merit. It is bunk. And what Florian has predicted will not come to pass.”

“Bold as always, Rosa. It’s late, so I’ll spare us both a request to preview your argument. I imagine you need time to research, anyway.”

“Indeed. Could you… refrain from passing on my position to Florian?”

“Of course! I’ll heavily redact my report, besides—I’d like to see hir caught on the back foot for once.” They smiled again. “You’re quite the wonder, Rosa.”

“Thank you, and thank you, Yotta. Only by your friendship have I grown to be what I am.” 

“Always deferring compliments!” They laughed. “Perhaps, many blooms from now, you’ll leave it at ‘thank you.’”

“An affini who fails to acknowledge their friends is an affini who ought to abandon their bloom and try again.” Rosa laughed too. They laughed together.

“Alright. Thank you for coming by. I’d like to return to torturing your chair, if you don’t mind?”

She stood and bowed. “I don’t mind at all. Have at. I will be in touch (and you may report to Florian) about my upcoming project for this wardship.”

“Which is?” Yotta grabbed their floret and shoved it underneath the desk.

“I (and Twilight and her cadre) must (after appropriate preparation) speak (with appropriate supervision and exit plans) with Null.”

Yotta nodded. “Communication is key. Go forth. Thanks for coming again. Oh uh,” they straightened up, “dismissed, Florae.” 

Rosa saluted gawkishly and left the chamber.

“Well, pet. Any thoughts on infohazards?”

“Pleeeeeenty! Lady’s got an uphill battle to fight—despite its many flaws, the Terran theory of social contagion is soooooooooooooorta sound and it’s not hard to jump to infohazards from there. It’s a Terran argument, so she’ll counter with Terran ideas, probably from an Enlightenment angle, maybe Sp- glk!!!! ”

“By the Everbloom I love shutting you up. Get to sucking.”

“Yersh, Mrix Rhimzomba…”