The world outside of the hab unit was unlike any ship Herschel could imagine. He was outside, while still inside the massive vessel that according to Connifred, was actually on the small side as far as affini craft went. For their first outing, Connifred suggested a short walk to the library. The number of books he was returning constituted a miniature library in their own right, and would have taken Herschel multiple trips and a wheelbarrow. 

He couldn’t imagine how expensive a membership to the ship’s library must have been. The libraries in the Terran Accord were enormous and had access to every book imaginable, provided you could afford that tier of membership. The “public” in “public library” referred to the fact that everybody in the general public was welcome to purchase at least basic access.

The best summer of Herschel’s life was when the library system messed up and gave him unlimited access to the entire third tier ad free. He gorged himself on book after book, reading at his own pace without worrying about when he’d be yanked out of the story by an ad break. Of course his literary crime spree was brought to an end once his transgressions were discovered. He feigned innocence, then ignorance, and was let off the hook with only a 4th tier penalty to his credit.

After that it was hard for Herschel to go back to his old literary routine. Every ad break felt that much longer, and the shallow pool of titles available to him seemed that much smaller. He didn’t rediscover his passion for reading until he was able to get his hands on his own analog and/or jailbroken copies of books. 

When the cosmic navy drafted him, he had to make due with the few analog books in his possession, leaving his illegal jailbroken books behind. His heart sank as he realized that his books back on the Regan’s Glory were likely lost forever. Given the veritable library back in the hab unit, getting new books was likely an option. After all, if he was legally considered a …dependent… to Connifred he could probably check some out for him. 

The building that housed the affini library was obvious. Every square inch of the place practically oozed coziness, with seating options designed to accommodate all manner of alien lifeforms. The head of an affini was suspended over the front desk in a tangle of vines. Whereas most of the other affini Herschel had encountered had some basic semblance of a humanoid or animalistic shape, this one was more akin to jumble of vines with a head haphazardly thrown in. 

Following the vines down from the head only made things more complicated. They splayed out in all directions, snaking their way through the library’s various nooks and crannies. The head smiled as it saw them approaching. “Connifred! We missed you at- Oh! Is this your new floret? He’s positively darling!”  

Sensing his floret’s building anxiety, Connifred put a comforting hand on the little one’s shoulder. “Herschel, this is Atada. She’s the head librarian and one of the major contributors to the Terran Translation Project.” Atada nodded while scrutinizing both of them. 

“Looks like he took quite a chunk outta you. Shame terrans can’t just grow a new arm like we can.” Herschel looked from Connifred to the librarian with a nagging feeling. “What is she talking about?” he thought. The wave of calm that usually washed such thoughts away failed to do so this time. Connifred had indeed been working on lessening the intensity of his medication, which Herschel noticed and appreciated. 

“We’re working on it.” Connifred assured her. “How’s the terran section coming along?” Atada positively radiated happiness in her reply. “Check upstairs, Banoy’s been up there non-stop since the latest Morrigan’s Star Garden translations came in.” One of the librarian’s many vines motioned for Herschel to follow it and Connifred gently nudged him toward it. 

“Go on, Sapling. Pick out anything that catches your interest.” Herschel cautiously followed the rippling vine up the stairs, marveling at both the scale of the library and how completely wrapped up the place was in Atada’s vines. The aforementioned “terran section” was clearly marked with sign after excited sign.

Sitting on the floor next to a jumbled stack of books was a terran wearing what Herschel would later come to know as companion clothes. One of Atada’s many vines gave him a nudge, pointing behind him towards the new visitor. He stood up and turned around, flipping open a notebook with a pen at the ready. 

“Salutations! Welcome to the terran section. I’m Banoy Pomme, first floret.” Banoy studied Herschel, jotting things down in his notebook, which far as Herschel could see was filled with nothing but numbers and tally marks. Banoy blushed and sheepishly put the notebook away. “Looking for anything in particular?” 

Herschel realized this was the first other terran he’d encountered since waking up in the affini medbay. Stumbling over what to say, he eventually blurted out “Full access to this place must cost a fortune…” Banoy’s demeanor shifted from excited professional to uncontained giddiness.

“It’s all free!” He blurted it out in the loudest library-appropriate voice he could manage, then took a breath and centered himself before continuing. “There are no memberships, or tiers, or ads, or anything like that. If there’s a book you want to read, you can take it and do so.” 

Herschel looked around with a new sense of wonder. Banoy beamed, radiating the same positivity as Atada. “You keep being reminded that money isn’t a thing in the Compact, but then there’s those moments where it really hits you.” Herschel nodded in solidarity.

Feeling more at ease, Herschel began looking around for himself. “Is there a mystery section?” Banoy nodded and pointed the way with both hands like a game show presenter. 

<> <> <>

Atada’s many vines made reshelving books downright trivial. Her head stayed at the front desk, focusing entirely on Connifred. “You never struck me as the type to straighten out wayward rebels.” She smiled coyly, “This one’s clearly made quite an impression on you.”

“Is it really that noticeable?” Connifred unraveled the vines that made up his body, taking stock of his physical person. Atada replied “You used to have to duck when you entered the door.” Indeed, looking up he couldn’t deny how much space there was between his head and the ceiling. She added, “whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

Connifred knit his body back together and replied pensively, “I don’t think I’d consider this one a risk to himself or others.” Atada cocked her head and spoke with more curiosity than doubt. “You don’t think that a terran soldier from a rebel ship that blew a chunk out of you and himself counts as a risk?"

Connifred clarified, “I don’t think what he did was fueled by malice. He was frightened, not wrathful. Since he began recovering he’s been nothing but obedient and agreeable.” The librarian fidgeted a bit, clearly holding something back. “What is it?” Connifred pressed her. 

“Are you sure his current behavior isn’t also fueled by fear?” Atada’s words hit Connifred harder than the explosion. She had a point. She was observant like that. He’d read that terrans often diffused tension with humor. He’d seen how terrified his fragile floret had been in the moments of full lucidity. Was keeping him “sharp” doing more harm than good? 

“Hey, hey, eyes on me.” Atada wrapped a vine around Connifred’s arm, yanking him out of his spiraling doubt and back into the present. “Stop catastrophizing. You’re fine. Your floret is fine. The little guy’s clearly fallen for you, at least on a subconscious level. Just keep doing what you’re doing, alright?” 

Herschel came bounding down the stairs with Banoy in tow, carrying a small stack of books in his arms. Connifred’s remaining worries melted away when he saw his floret’s face. Banoy placed the books on the counter and was rewarded with a pat on the head from one of the Atada’s vines. 

The way Banoy relaxed into the librarian’s touch sent a trickle of worry to Herschel’s mind. If the collar wasn’t enough of a dead giveaway, the way Banoy delighted at the slightest affirmation from his …caretaker… certainly made his “pet” status clear. He’d meant to ask Banoy about his experience as a floret, but the allure of literary comroderry was too much to risk ruining with such an uncomfortable topic. 

…Would it have even been an uncomfortable topic though? Banoy clearly didn’t seem to mind his current situation. If anything he seemed completely delighted by it. The only time his affini came up was when Banoy delighted in talking about getting to untangle her from the library at the end of every day. 

Was he any less “free” than the average Terran Accord citizen, struggling to make ends meet in a system that cared only for profit? The word “freedom” was held with utmost reverence in the Accord. It was the primary reason to repel the invading botanical menace which sought to strip them of it. 

Banoy looked to be doing just fine under the “tyrannical rule” of the conquering affini. Was this really where human civilization ended, curled at the feet of creatures from beyond the stars?

It certainly was a lot to think about. But for now he was leaving the nicest library he’d ever been to, with a stack of books he could read at his leisure, at the side of an arboreal titan that had been nothing but kind to him. An arboreal titan who apparently had something to do with the “incident” that landed him here…