…

Today was the day. The day Connifred’s beloved new floret would get his implant and new arm. He was putting the finishing touches on his post-operation plan. Transport? Check. Lodging? Check. Undetermined amount of time in the schedule for his brave little terran to recover from surgery? Check. 

Being his first floret, this was also his first time providing the material for the Haustoric Implant. He’d read then re-read everything he could about the procedure and the history of its applications on humans. Compared to other sophont species, humans were in the middle of the road when it came to the complexity of the procedure. Aside from the initial implantation process, the fact that their control centers were all in the same convenient place made him think they were almost meant to be florets.

The implant was also going to help Herschel get used to his new arm. There were plenty of less conspicuous, more “classic terran” arm prosthetics available; ones that would have a near non-existent learning curve. But Connifred had something special in mind for Herschel, and that something special was getting harder and harder to keep only to himself.

Walking to the clinic Connifred could sense Herschel’s trepidation had almost entirely been replaced by anticipation. He kept his head held high as they entered the building, anxiety conveyed only through his tight grip on Connifred’s hand. 

When the time came for Herschel to be put under, Connifred beamed down at him with pride. As his eyes closed and his fingers slipped away from Connifred’s grip, it was like a weight had been lifted. The hard part was over. 

Connifred continued feeling lighter and lighter, his body unspooling from its humanoid approximation and falling to the floor. Fir needles splayed out from the impact sites, leaving a rough evergreen outline around his prone form. He could hear voices and sense movement as his consciousness frayed at the edges. 

“Are you okay- Oh, he’s re-blooming!”

“Here? Now?”

“Get his contact, gather him up.” 

He could feel pieces of himself being moved, placed together in some sort of container. Was he re-blooming? He had been putting it off for a while… He just couldn’t find the time now that he was taking care of- Herschel! His floret was going to wake up all alone, in an unfamiliar place. He fought to hold onto his rapidly depleting wakefulness, at some point sensing a familiar presence lifting him up. 

“-and you call me dramatic. Connifred, Connifred, Connifred. I told you no less than 14 times you’ve been overdue for your re-bloom. I offered to watch Herschel for a few days, make something of a party out of it…”

“Lembic, is he able to hear you? If he is unable to understand your grievances at this time, might I suggest you write them down for later?”

“Oh, we could make it into a song!”

The familiar sound of Saguaros’ mirthful chuckle was the last thing Connifred was aware of before he entered oblivion. 

~~~

Oblivion, it turned out, was dreadfully boring. Some affini were able to complete their re-bloom in a matter of hours, but he was not some affini. He was Connifred Myrtales Third- (well, Fourth Bloom once this was over with) Bloom and he famously took his sweet time when re-blooming. Generally the length of time needed had to do with the size of the individual and the available material. And sure, he was big. But not that big. 

Every time he’d inquired about it, he’d been assured that this was just the way he was and in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t really an issue. Well, now he was in a race with his floret for who could finish their “procedure” first. Which most certainly was an issue! Given the efficiency of modern xenomedicine, he knew it was no contest. 

So this was it for the next however long. He drifted in and out of limited consciousness, eventually noticing something. Whatever this thing was, it certainly wasn’t there before. Focusing on it revealed a door of sorts. A metaphysical door within the timeless void that was a whole lot easier to conceptualize in terms of rooms and doors and the like. 

Whatever sort of “door” this was, it certainly wasn’t a locked one. Connifred slipped inside and was delighted to find himself connected to his floret’s presence. The implant! He was connected to Herschel in a new, more intimate way than before. Recalling the material he’d brushed up on for the occasion, this certainly didn’t feel like a predictable response to the procedure. Perhaps undergoing his re-bloom had something to do with it? Either way, he’d be sure to studiously write down everything he experienced once he was able to hold a pen again. 

He could feel the extension of himself growing into Herschel’s person. The space beyond the metaphysical door growing more robust and detailed as the roots of the implant connected to the neurons in the human’s head. For the time being, his floret was an open book, and Connifred was an avid reader.

~~~

Humans had so many feelings. Any and every experience seemed to leave an emotional mark on them. He found himself bouncing from one to the next with seemingly little rhyme or reason, and any attempt to navigate them with a sense of purpose fell flat. 

There were affini out there that were experts on combing through sophonts’ minds, so he knew such a thing was possible. But trying to do so himself made him truly appreciate their delicate craft. Eventually Connifred gave up on trying to look for specific memories and experiences, instead just marveling at whichever ones he got a peek into. 

Time was meaningless in the void between blooms, but when he sensed his body pulling itself back together it felt like it was happening too soon while at the same time not soon enough. There were so many nooks and crannies of Herschel’s mind he had yet to explore, but his sense of duty made the parting all the more manageable. His floret needed him. 

~~~

“Do you know who I am?” Connifred looked down at the source of the words, getting his first look at Herschel as he shivered in trepidation. He spoke his first words. 

“Herschel Myrtales, First Floret. I know you more now than ever before.” Connifred extended a hand to his now comparatively smaller floret, which he reciprocated. The moment their hands touched, Connifred swept him up into his arms and held him close. 

The joy he felt at being able to assuage his ward’s worries so thoroughly surged through his vines. He could sense Herschel’s fear draining away, replaced with relief and what could only be described as love. The trembling terran practically melted into Connifred’s embrace. 

Herschel gasped as relaxed into the familiar embrace. The feeling of the affini- his affini- was almost indescribably perfect. Like a warm blanket on a cold day or a gulp of water after a hike, but for his soul as well as his body. From that moment, he knew everything was going to be okay. 

…

In the days following, Herschel rarely left Connifred’s side. Now that the crisis had been averted, his body demanded the additional rest and recuperation it was promised following major surgery. Herschel found himself sleeping most of the day, waking periodically to find himself wrapped up in Connifred’s vines. Occasionally he’d be given bites of food to eat or water to drink, but for the most part Connifred seemed fine to let him snooze in peace.

With the eventual return of Herschel’s lucidity and energy, they began working to get him acclimated to his new arm. It seemed to work best when Herschel wasn’t thinking about it, evidenced by the many times he was able to catch whatever Connifred playfully tossed at him. It was when he tried to understand how it worked and connected to himself as a whole that things got tricky.

Thinking of it as just an arm made things simple enough. It was an extremity that connected to his shoulder and could grab things. Aside from general use though, the appendage was figuratively and literally alien. Lacking the bones and joints of a regular limb, it was unbound by limitations suffered by his original arm. Connifred insisted that his mastery of it would improve over time, often with mangled terran idioms. “Chicago wasn’t built in a day!”

That particular day, they were strolling through one of the natural areas of the ship. The menagerie of interstellar flora made for a fascinating mix of botanical garden and art gallery.  Taking a break for lunch, the two of them were sprawled out on a gingham picnic blanket. Herschel was eating a sandwich, holding it between his original human hand and newer botanical one. Connifred had some of his roots in a glass of that special affini water. 

He withdrew them and passed the glass to Herschel. “Would you like some?” His floret took the glass and studied it up close before raising the glass to his lips. A firm but gentle vine stopped his hand before it got any closer, guiding it and the glass down and onto the ground. “No, no. With that.” Connifred motioned towards Herschel’s new arm. 

“Wait, really?” Herschel’s eyes grew a smidge wider as the implications dawned on him. He brought his hand over to the water, marveling at how it unfurled into a mass of vines that began probing the glass. A few slipped in and almost immediately his face lit up. “I-it’s drinking it!” Connifred chuckled and rustled his pet’s hair. “You’re drinking it, sapling.” 

Herschel’s vines reformed into a hand as he lifted them out of the liquid. He flexed his fingers in front of his face as he lay back against Connifred, who pulled him up against his chest. Herschel could feel pieces of the affini vibrate as he spoke, “Do you feel up to going on a bit of an adventure sometime soon?” 

“Absolutely.” Herschel could hear Connifred’s leaves rustle jovially at that. 

…

Glendalon 5 was gorgeous. The binary star system it orbited gave the whole planet a theatrical vibe, as everything cast two shadows. The local populous was largely nocturnal, which left the long double-sunned days for the affini and other visiting sophonts. 

A familiar gingham blanket rested in the grass beneath the shade of a helical tree. Herschel and Connifred sat and took in the vista before them. “Would you believe me if I told you that this precise view was the default background image for every tablet in this arm of the galaxy?” Herschel looked up at Connifred quizzically before responding. 

“Seeing as you don’t have a habit of lying to me, I’m going to say yes, I believe you.” The affini chuckled as he rustled Herschel’s hair. He then stood up and extended a hand to help his floret do the same, guiding him out of the shade and over to a particular spot nearby. 

“To be precise, the actual image was taken from right over……here.” Connifred pointed to a stone marker on the ground, engraved with affini and other unfamiliar scripts. Herschel studied it matter-of-factly for a few seconds before looking back up at Connifred with a sly smile. “I don’t think you brought me all the way out here just to share this admittedly interesting factoid.” Connifred fought to hide a smile behind a who, me? gesture. “Just a hunch.” 

“Okay sapling, you got me. We’re here for those.” He pointed up at the two suns as his whole body swayed back and forth in anticipation. Herschel glanced up at the sky then back to Connifred, silently asking for further guidance. The affini leaned down to be closer to the human’s level as he continued. “Close your eyes and tell me what you feel.” Herschel did as he was told without a second guess.

“I feel the wind, and the ground beneath my feet…” Connifred nodded and pressed him further. “Good, good. What else?” Herschel’s face scrunched up in concentration, causing Connifred to rub a soothing hand down his back. “Relax. Take it easy, nice and slow.” Herschel took a deep breath and stood in silence for a few seconds before continuing.

“I can feel the sun against my skin…” Connifred leaned forward in anticipation, quietly adding “Focus on that. Are you feeling it just on your skin?” Herschel focused his breathing, his new arm unfurling itself into a mass of botanical matter and reaching towards the sky. He continued, “I can feel it in my arm, m-my other arm... Sort of two things actually… They’re definitely different, but I’m not sure I can quite explain-” Herschel’s eyes snapped open as he met Connifred’s gaze with a look of complete wonderment. 

“The suns! I- I’m photosynthesizing!” Connifred’s eyes twinkled with joy. Even without the implant, he could feel his floret’s palpable enthusiasm as it radiated off of them. Taking care not to disturb his unfurled arm, Herschel fell against Connifred in a one-armed hug. The affini reciprocated the gesture, pulling Herschel up off the ground and holding him close. 

Connifred refrained from showering his beloved pet with cuddles and affirmation (at least for the time being). He instead held them steady and probed for more information. “Could you try and describe it, in your own words?” The information would provide an invaluable look into terran psychology, and would definitely get its own page in future scientific journals. More importantly, it was spectacularly adorable. 

“It… It’s sort of like when you’re baking something and it’s almost done. How the smell radiates from the oven and when you’re nearby you can just barely, almost taste it. It’s like that but with this different kind of what I guess I’d call ‘flavor’. I… I can’t really describe it better than that…” 

“Almost like you’d need to experience it for yourself to get an idea?” Connifred’s body rustled in what Herschel recognized as his affini’s closest natural reaction to a smile. He brought himself closer, nuzzling against Connifred’s chest and closer to the core that was the source of his enrapturing song. He’d said it many times before, and couldn’t help himself from saying it again. “Thank you.” He repeated himself dreamily, “thank you.”