“I don’t know,” Tsuga muttered as she and Pisca waited outside Polyphylla’s hab. “Maybe she’s getting along fine without me. She’s a tough little terran. Maybe my showing up would just make things uncomfortable for her. I should go.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Pisca said, cradling Aletheia in her arms and idly stroking her with a vine. “Of course she wants to see you! And don’t you want to see her?”

“Of course I do,” Tsuga replied, “but what if that’s the wrong thing for her? What if–“

“Are you always like this when a xeno has you this wound up?” Pisca gently draped a vine around Tsuga. “Because it’s really interfering with my image of you as the Cool, Collected Mentor. I might have to submit paperwork to suspend your membership in the Cool, Collected Mentor Committee.”

Tsuga riffled her needles in amusement. “Thank you,” she said softly. Pisca, and even little Aletheia before she’d fallen asleep, had been doing this for her all yesterday and through the night. Every time she started to worry, one or the other would distract her and disrupt the inevitable spiral. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Always,” Pisca said, giving Tsuga a gentle squeeze with her vine.

The door before them slid open, revealing Polyphylla and Cass. “Tsuga! Pisca! And even little Aletheia,” she said, reaching in with a vine to steal a deft stroke or two of Aletheia’s hair, setting her squirming and giggling. “What a lovely surprise!” It was not a surprise, of course — they had checked in with Polyphylla before even setting out — but Tsuga wasn’t concerned with that right now, for she had eyes only for Cass.

And Cass did not look well. Not unhealthy, not uninjured, but shaken, in a way that Tsuga had so rarely seen her. She seemed present, at least, not retreating into a dissociative state like she had at the meeting the day before, but not much more than that. She knelt down, leaning forward. “Cass, how are you holding up?”

Nothing could have prepared her for what came next. Cass took a step forward, reached out, and hugged Tsuga’s leg, leaning into it and taking a deep breath. Tsuga’s core practically began to vibrate, and her needles all stood on end. She gently placed a hand over Cass, exerting a gentle pressure on her — she could feel the little terran’s muscles relax ever so slightly.

She wants you to take her. Do it now, before it’s too late.

“Mistress, can I–” But Pisca was already setting Aletheia down, and giving her a gentle push towards the two of them. “Cass…are you okay?” She tentatively reached in to touch Cass’s shoulder. Tsuga felt her muscles tighten back up for a moment as she made contact, but she relaxed again afterwards.

“I’m fine,” Cass mumbled. “Just…been a rough couple of days.” She turned her head. “You look… really good.”

“Yeah?” Aletheia’s cheeks warmed to match her hair, and she turned a quirk circle, setting her aquamarine companion dress whirling. “You think so?” Cass nodded but said nothing. Aletheia worried a little hole in the walkway twisting the toes of one foot back and forth, and bit her lip as she glanced away. It was a very precious display of just how adorable a terran could be. Pisca really is lucky, Tsuga thought.

The cuteness was interrupted by yet more cuteness as Leah appeared behind Polyphylla. “Miss Tsuga! Miss Pisca! Hiii!” Then, as her eyes fixed on Aletheia, she let out a loud, excited gasp. “Oh. My. Stars. Your hair is so red!” Before Aletheia could say or do anything, Leah was upon her, wrapping her up in a vigorous hug. “Did your Mistress do that for you or is your hair just like that? And you smell so good!”

“Uh, hi,” Aletheia said, laughing and hugging Leah back.

Polyphylla let out a soft, musical laugh. “Aletheia, meet Leah. I’m sure the two of you will get along very well.” She draped a vine across the both of them and gently guided them towards the door. “Why don’t you all come in and get comfortable, hmm?”

“Polyphylla, might I have a moment with Cass?” Tsuga said.

“Hmm?” Their gazes met, and for a moment Tsuga all but read the response in her demeanor: Polyphylla didn’t want to let Cass out of her sight. She felt herself loosen, a slackening of her usually tight control over her biorhythms, and quite unbidden — but it seemed to have a desirable effect. “…yes, of course,” Polyphylla said after a moment. “Come right on in when you’re done, alright?” She and Pisca followed the two little terrans into her hab, and the door slid shut behind them.

For a long moment Tsuga simply held Cass close, shifting her mass into a sitting position. “I’m here,” she said gently. Cass nodded but said nothing. Was she having difficulty speaking again, like Polyphylla had mentioned? “We can take as long as we need to.”

“I don’t want to go back in,” Cass said quietly, burying her face into Tsuga’s leg.

“What happened?” Something was obviously wrong with Cass. She had never once behaved like this. There had been meltdowns and arguments and dissociative episodes, but never this kind of fragility. Deep inside Tsuga there was a hot ember glowing and threatening to catch, to transform into a conflagration that would consume her from the inside out. If Polyphylla has done something to her without asking me–

Cass shook her head. “I just… I think I fucked up and I think I’m fucked and I don’t think there’s a way out of this,” she said, her voice catching. “I slept with Leah. I mean… I slept with her, overnight, but then, just now, she– and then I just–“

“… you mean you had sex?” Cass nodded, and Tsuga relaxed fractionally. “Well, I can’t imagine she’s upset that you and Leah engaged in a little sexual play. Leah does that sort of thing all the time. Maybe she’s worried because you’re feral, but even then, I should think she’d be happy you’re settling in and feeling comfortable enough to do that sort of thing.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s just– Tsuga, she’s not herself, she’s whatever Polyphylla made her, and I wasn’t thinking straight, and I–“ She choked, shaking her head again and rubbing at her eyes with her arm. “And that’s what she wants to do to me. She’s going to do to me what she did to Leah, I know she is.”

“…what she did to Leah? Cass, you don’t need that kind of deep reconstructive work,” Tsuga said gently. “Listen to me: you haven’t done anything wrong, I promise. Honestly, I think this wardship is entirely pointless. You may not be accustomed to the Compact, but you’ll adapt naturally over time. This ship’s culture is just very…”

“Domesticate first and ask questions later?” Cass supplied. She still seemed on the verge of tears.

“That is a very good turn of phrase,” Tsuga said, nodding, “and an apt description. The Tillandsia has spent much of the last three years domesticating your Cosmic Navy, often taking excess capacity from smaller ships. They’ve become accustomed to that way of doing things because it’s efficient and leads to good ends, and it’s been a system that’s worked well for them in that context. I’m hoping that we can use this wardship to shift that just a bit, because it certainly doesn’t seem suited to your case, and the sooner the locals learn that terrans can differ to such an extent, the better.”

“Yeah, well…I don’t think Polyphylla’s interested in that,” Cass said. “She as good as said she wants to scramble my brain. She was talking about psyche maps and memory landmarks and….” Cass’s voice caught again.

“Yes, well, that’s her speciality. She’s probably the best mnemonic engineer on the ship, at least as far as terrans are concerned. I’m not surprised she’s using that skillset to evaluate you.”

“She doesn’t want to evaluate me,” Cass growled, her anger breaking through her creaking voice. “She tried to wipe my fucking memory this morning!”

“…I’m sorry, what?” Tsuga said, bristling as she picked Cass up and hugged her close. Cass didn’t resist or complain, but simply leaned into Tsuga, her head resting on Tsuga’s shoulder. “Please explain. Start from the beginning, and tell me everything.”

And, tears barely held back, Cass did. Tsuga listened patiently, maintaining a gentle pressure and letting her biorhythms soothe the little terran. It seemed to help — as she told the story, her breaths became less sharp, less erratic, and her voice stopped catching every few words. Don’t let her go. She doesn’t need this wardship. She needs you.

“I see,” she said quietly when Cass finally finished. “Do you feel a little better having told me about this?” Cass nodded, but said nothing. “Would you like to rest here a while longer?” Again, a nod. “Alright,” Tsuga said. “Don’t fall asleep, okay? And when you’re ready, we can go back in together.” She held Cass for a long while, rocking gently back and forth in a slow rhythm. Poor little creature, Tsuga thought. I wish I could spare you all of this. She knew she could. But she also knew Cass would never agree to it, and furthermore, that she was probably the worst choice for the job, no matter how much she wanted it.

When Cass finally agreed to go back in, Tsuga set her down gently on the ground, forcing herself not to give Cass the gentle stroking she so deserved and that Tsuga so wanted to give. Don’t let her go! “Shall I go first?”

“No, I’ll be alright,” Cass said, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. She still looked shaken to Tsuga’s eyes, and every one of Tsuga’s vines wanted to leap out and bundle up the little terran, to hold her and keep her safe. Instead, she stilled them, and let her walk ahead, through the door and into Polyphylla’s sunlit common room. Tsuga had been impressed with Polyphylla’s sense of style and aesthetic when they’d first met, and the way she kept her hab was no small part of it. Her own style had rather ossified over several blooms of obsessing over her work, and a part of her had wanted a little bit of good-natured competition with Polyphylla — but that was all in the wind now.

“Polyphylla, might I borrow you for a moment?” she said, keeping her voice and her biorhythms as even as she could for the sake of the two florets in the room.

“Hm?” Polyphylla looked up from watching Leah introduce Aletheia to one of her many stuffed animals, this one some kind of terran creature Tsuga vaguely recalled as a ‘trinocerous,’ or something like that. (Everbloom, even when Tsuga was this upset, it was hard to stay that way in the light of seeing the terran pack-bonding instinct on full display.) “Of course,” she said. “I don’t think Pisca will mind watching three cuties for a little while?”

“Absolutely not!” Pisca said. She was sitting on the flowery floor, hovering over Leah and Aletheia, her vines occasionally reaching in to stroke one or the other. “Come sit with us!” Tsuga watched Cass warily join the others as Polyphylla crossed to join her.

<Let’s talk in your office,> Tsuga said in Affini, one vine gesturing to the appropriate door.

<Tsuga, is something wrong?> Polyphylla asked, leading the way into the room — like the rest of the hab, it was laden with flowers, cut in half with a small stream that cascaded down a small waterfall laid into one wall. Unlike much of the rest of the hab, however, here there were concessions to utility, like the broad desk, the data terminal, and the massive screens showing a host of information. One prominently displayed a half-sketched-out psyche map, probably Cass’s.

<She told me about the dress,> Tsuga said bluntly, tapping the wall to order the door shut.

<I imagine she did>, Polyphylla replied. <And I’ll be the first to admit that it was a well-intended mistake. I thought she could do with a little boundary-pushing, but I didn’t realize it would provoke such a dysphoric reaction in her until after she had it on, and which point…well, what’s the saying?> She switched to Standard English. “The cat’s out of the barn, I think?”

<She also told me what you said this morning when she confronted you about it,> Tsuga went on. <About how you said you were going to erase her memory of the event.>

<I offered to, and she became very irate.>

<Did you offer, or did you simply say you were going do it? What were the words?>

“Tsuga, my Standard English is better than yours,” she said, raising one floral eyebrow to emphasize her relative experience where terrans were concerned.

<But not better than Cass’s, and in any case I’m not talking about grammar,> Tsuga grumbled. She felt her body’s shape slip, her vines surging in animate frustration and anger. <I know what your specialty is, but I cannot believe you’re considering mnemonic reconstruction on m- on this terran on the second day of a wardship!> She had only just stopped herself from saying ‘my floret,’ and the disjunction in the chorus of her sentence was obvious.

<It’s– it’s not reconstruction!> Polyphylla protested. <It’s a simple hypnotic shunt to remove an unpleasant, potentially traumatic memory that might interfere with the evaluation. I acknowledge,> she added, <that the offer did not serve its purpose and indeed probably made the situation between us much worse, but I didn’t expect such a visceral reaction to either the dress or the offer to remove it from her memory! I’ve been updating my preliminary psyche map all morning–>

It took all of Tsuga’s self-control, wrapping vines around others and squeezing down on her core, not to practically detonate on the spot. <Have you noticed nothing about her? Have you not noticed how she loves to recall quotations, if nothing else? She values her memory more than anything else, and you just casually mention going in and tinkering with it?! No wonder she’s upset! You may as well have held one of their awful little firearms to her head, as far as she’s concerned!>

<I– that’s not– I am a professional, Tsuga! Of course I’m aware of that!> Polyphylla said, standing her ground and elevating herself, if not to Tsuga’s height (oh no, had she fully uncompressed herself out of sheer rage?), at least a little higher. <Now will you please calm yourself? You’re– you’re very intimidating when you get like this!>

Tsuga shivered angrily and tried to force herself down into a relatively personable shape, once more forcefully reminded that no matter how competent and in-control Polyphylla seemed, she was only a quarter of Tsuga’s own age. <I apologize. But this is important.> This doesn’t need to be such an argument. She just needs to know what not to do to Cass, she told herself.

<I’m well aware I’ve made a few missteps to begin with, but that’s not uncommon when dealing with a new patient — though, in her case, it would be for her own good. Solving the problem now will make her happier, and if she didn’t balk at a very minor memory procedure she wouldn’t even remember the discomfort! She’s in my care and she was not happy. What was I supposed to do, leave her to suffer?>

<You are supposed to listen, find out what she needs, and give it to her!>

<And I am trying to do that — but I also have to evaluate her ability to adapt to life in the Compact as an independent sophont,> Polyphylla said. <She has a very feral persona and I need to find a way to make her relax her grip on it and simply be herself, and carrying around all this misery is not going to help that.>

<You talk as if you’ve already made your decision,> Tsuga spat, only just keeping herself in check.

<Tsuga, she’s openly committed to a feralist ideology. I think there is a slim possibility for her remaining independent, which I know she wants, and which, based on what I’ve observed, she could probably manage — but I also have to consider the safety of the community, which a feral persona like this is totally incompatible with!>

<She’s not dangerous,> Tsuga retorted. <She’s said many times, and truthfully in my opinion, that she considers violence to be a useless tool against us.>

<Probably the smartest thing she’s ever said,> Polyphylla mused. <And that’s not an insult, she is quite clever, that’s obvious.> She let out a very terran sigh, her vines slackening just a little. <Look, at the very least, I need a full psyche map to make a proper evaluation as to whether she honestly means that, and if she’s not going to be cooperative, I’m going to have to recommend her for domestication by default.>

<So observe her,> Tsuga said, relaxing just a little. Have I gotten through to her? <Let her be, interfere as little as you can, and observe.>

Polyphylla shook her head. <I need more information than that, she’s too guarded. Not just because of my mistakes, either — that’s another problematic part of her feral persona. Ideally, I’d do a mnemonic regression and feel out her core landmarks, but I think she’d react very poorly to that suggestion. I could erase her memory of it, but she’s too clever, I’m sure she’d figure it out somehow. The really clever ones are always the most problematic when it comes to mnemonic engineering.>

Tsuga ruminated on the problem as she finished putting herself back together, and Polyphylla let her have the time. She was right in that a mnemonic regression would let her put together a very thorough inventory of Cass’s basic personality and how any of her personas interacted with it, and that would be a strong piece of evidence in favor of letting her remain independent. Or it’d sign her domestication paperwork for her, she thought, but Cass was a good girl — she wouldn’t do anything that’d threaten the community. If anything, what she was doing was because she feared for her community. They just needed to figure out how to bridge the gap between one community and the other in her mind.

<Would you consent to my assistance?> Tsuga finally said. <If I’m present, and I assure Cass that I would prevent you from making any alterations to her memory while she’s under…. she might agree to it. On the other vine, it might seriously damage her trust in me, but it’s worth a try. Don’t bring it up today, though, she needs time to recover.> I need to make some kind of gesture here, she thought. Something that says ‘reconciliation.’ She extended a vine and entangled it with one of Polyphylla’s. <I know you’re just trying to help. Cass is just a very complicated little creature.>

<That she is,> Polyphylla agreed. <I don’t know how familiar you are with terran psyche maps, but you can see it all right there.> She gestured with a vine at one of the screens. <I’ve only skimmed the surface, but I’ve already found trauma layered on trauma. Everbloom only knows what most of them are, but their presence is obvious to see. That’s why I wanted to resolve the dysphoria. That, at least, is a relatively easy knot to untangle, and it would probably help with the other issues. It’s honestly a wonder she’s holding herself together at all.>

<I understand,> Tsuga said. <But that’s just my point: please keep in mind how fragile xenos are. Especially this xeno, no matter how tough she seems.> She shivered, and squeezed down on Polyphylla’s vine just a little. Don’t think about the past right now. Cass needs you in the present. <One more thing, though.>

<Yes?>

<She doesn’t understand what you’ve done for Leah. You need to explain. It may help, it may not. But you need to tell her.>

“You said we could talk about it later,” Aletheia said, the barest hint of a pout on her face, “and we haven’t talked about it at all, and now we’re about to leave.”

“It’s not something to have out in front of others,” Cass replied, skin on the back of her neck tingling in the way that told her she’d spent far too much time socializing. She and Aletheia had spent most of the day being dragged excitedly around by Leah as she showed them every part of the hab, her favorite games, demanded several mandatory snuggle sessions, and so on. Meanwhile, the three Affini had largely talked amongst themselves, leaving Cass with the sense that she’d been sat at the kid’s table by mistake. Tsuga, at least, tried to rope her in every time Leah’s meanderings brought them back to the side of her Mistress, and if nothing else Cass had managed to avoid any more uncomfortable encounters with Pisca. Tsuga had clearly let Polyphylla have it in private judging by the change in her behavior afterwards, even if the hab’s soundproofing kept her from hearing any of it. She’d been much less patronizing and hovered over Cass far less than she had been before.

“I’m not afraid of people knowing that I l–“

“No,” Cass said, holding up her hand. “You don’t know me well enough to say that word.” Seeing the hurt expression on Aletheia’s face, she lowered her hand and added, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like– look, I just don’t want you to dig an emotional hole for yourself that you can’t climb out of before we figure this out, okay? I’m still not comfortable with this. You’re half my age, and you’re my subordinate on top of it, it’s unethical!”

“I’m not your subordinate,” Aletheia said, furrowing her eyebrows. “Not anymore. Not since…” She glanced back at the common room, where Pisca was saying her goodbyes to Polyphylla and Leah — Tsuga had left a short while before, and Cass had spent a long time in a very tight hug with her. “I belong to Mistress now, okay?” she finally said. “And I’m not afraid to say that either!”

Cass looked at her for a long second. Something has changed in her, she thought. A month ago, this conversation would have had her sobbing. Scratch that, she’d never have the courage to even have it. Maybe it was something Pisca had done to her, like Polyphylla had remade Leah, but if so it was a far subtler change. More likely, Cass thought, it was simply her becoming more herself after so long trying to be someone else and failing — that was an experience she knew all too well, and despite everything it warmed her heart a little to see Aletheia getting to finally experience it. “Okay,” she said quietly. “But you were my subordinate. You get why that’s a problem for me, right?”

“Cass, you’re not going to hurt me or take advantage of me,” Aletheia said. “That’s just not who you are. And even if you did, well… Mistress would fix it,” she said, biting her lip and casting another glance back to the common room.

Cass’s gut clenched. It is who I am, she thought, a bitter, sour taste rising in her mouth. “We’ll talk about it, okay?”

“Alright,” Aletheia said. “Over chat? Leah said you two talked a bunch over it. What’s your username?”

“Propaganda of the deed. All one word.”

Aletheia rolled her eyes and giggled. “Stars, of course it is. It was either that or, I don’t know, Kropotkin’s Revenge or something.”

Cass couldn’t help but smile a little. “And you?”

Aletheia blushed and muttered, “Pinecone. I-it’s, uhm, she calls me that, sometimes. Her little pinecone.” She squirmed happily and made a delighted little noise. “I know it’s not for you, but… she really does make me so happy. Happier than I’ve ever been.”

“I can tell,” Cass said softly. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you needed before they did, she thought. Maybe then, you wouldn’t feel like you have to do this. “Go on, I bet she’s waiting.”

“Okay. Talk to you on the net,” she said. She lingered for a moment, and Cass worried that she might try to sneak another kiss, but instead she turned and went right to Pisca’s side, the same way Leah always did, like a dog heeling for its master.

Cass shivered and tried not to think about it, quietly ducking into Leah’s bedroom and sitting down on a particularly soft bed of flowers that Leah had pointed out to her and Aletheia earlier. She hugged her knees and sucked in a deep breath, holding it for five long seconds before letting it whistle out. The only sound was the mirrorfall and the distant cries of fake birds– “Hab, can you quiet the birds, please?”

“Absolutely!” The birdsong disappeared, the mirrorfall grew quiet, and even the sounds of conversation in the common room grew hushed. It was like a weight vanishing from Cass’s shoulders — a little solitude went a long way. Bulwark had been hard on her nerves, but at least she’d had the frigid outdoors and the remoteness of a commanding officer to retreat into; here, she didn’t have that, didn’t have any way to build a context for herself. She had to constantly feel out safe places to step, safe words to use, safe things to think, especially when Polyphylla was in the room. She wasn’t telepathic, Cass was pretty sure about that, but she was inhumanly perceptive, and Cass didn’t know how much she might be giving away to an alien shrub that had bulls-eyed her dysphoric longing based on fucking microexpressions.

Time slipped away from Cass as she sat there. Her thoughts still spun, but gradually she was able to guide them into a meditative slowness. It felt like it had been ages since she could find this kind of silence, but it had only been a scant couple of days since she’d been staying with Tsuga — and that was a thought that made her heart ache. Do I miss her? I suppose one misses a friend. She began to worry over whether her farewell to Tsuga had been too brusque, but they understood one another well enough, Cass thought, for Tsuga to know she was simply worn out. Didn’t they? If she’s a friend. Who knows what she thinks.

Something landed next to Cass with a thump, startling her even as it burrowed into her. Leah’s scent was the first thing Cass noticed that told her what had just happened — Leah was glomming onto her and squeezing for her life. “H-hey,” she said, her voice catching just a little. “What’s up?” She said nothing, but merely shook her head and held on tighter. “…are you okay? Where’s Polyphylla?”

“Mistress is making dinner,” she said quietly. “Are you mad at me?”

“What? No,” Cass said. “Why would I be mad about you?”

She sniffled. “You were out there and then you were gone. And then Allie and Miss Pisca left and Mistress went to cook dinner and… and I felt wrong.” She let out another sad little sniffle. “I’m sad. Hug me.”

“Okay,” Cass said, putting an arm around Leah. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was avoiding you. I just needed a little quiet time to– Leah, what’s wrong?” she asked as the girl let out another chain of whimpers, barely holding onto her composure. I didn’t think she knew how to be sad, Cass thought.

“I don’t know,” she whimpered. “Everything was okay and now everything’s not okay and I’m sad and I don’t know why and it hurts and I want it to stop.”

“Maybe we should go get Polyphylla,” Cass said. Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong.

“Are you mad at me?” she whispered.

“No,” Cass said. Did she tune out again? “I said no. Why would I be mad–”

“I don’t know!” She burst into tears and sobbed into Cass’s shoulder. “I don’t know! Why am I in here? Where’s Mistress?”

“You said she’s making dinner,” Cass said, trying to get Leah to her feet, but she clung too fiercely to Cass for her to detach her. “Leah, come on, let’s go find her.”

“It’s… it’s dinnertime? Is Allie staying?” She sniffed, coughing out another sob. “Why am I crying? Why do I hurt? Cassie, what’s wrong, what did I do? I did something wrong, didn’t I? Are you mad at me?!” Her eyes went wide as she stared up at Cass. “Please don’t leave, please don’t leave, I don’t want to be alone!” With sudden, jolting force that left Cass’s arms aching, Leah was torn out of her grasp and into the air — Polyphylla was in the room as suddenly as a bolt of lightning, cuddling and squeezing the weeping terran in her arms as she knelt down on the floor.

“Shhh, shhh, I’m here, petal, I’m here,” she whispered, stroking Leah’s hair and brushing away her tears. “My darling Leah, I’m so sorry! Eyes on me, little one, eyes on me!” Her vines forced Leah’s head to face her, and as Cass watched Polyphylla’s shape seemed to loosen slightly, the glow of her eyes brightening and capturing Leah’s gaze. “You are safe, and you are loved,” Polyphylla said, her voice thrumming with uncanny harmonies — it reminded Cass vividly, uncomfortably, of what the Captain had done to Nell. She plugged her ears, but the sound of Polyphylla’s voice seemed to penetrate her entire body. “You will always be safe, and you will always be loved. I will never, ever abandon you. Now, it’s naptime, little one.” A vine tipped with a brilliant violet flower drifted up and pressed itself to Leah’s face. “Deep breaths, now. Deep breaths. No bad dreams, just nice comfy quiet sleep.” She went limp in just a few heartbeats, and Polyphylla seemed to collapse in on herself, her legs dissociating into a tangled nest of vines.

“What…the fuck?!” Cass said, getting to her feet and rubbing her shoulder. It had taken the brunt of the jolt, and would probably ache for a while, but it seemed more or less intact. Her heart was pounding in her chest, matching the thrumming she still felt resonating in the room.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” Polyphylla said, not looking away from Leah. “I had to get to her as quickly as I could, before the mnemonic recursion got worse.” She made a dissonant, frustrated noise, and a few of her vines reached out towards Cass. “Here, let me make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” Cass said, batting a vine away. “What the fuck was that?”

“I was going to explain things after dinner,” she said, shaking her head. “You won’t think me incompetent if I simply compile it for you, will you? I’m probably going to be doing maintenance on Leah all night.”

“Polyphylla,” Cass said, as calmly as she could make herself. She took a deep breath, and enunciated each word as emphatically as she could. “What. The. Fuck!”

“I set up a posthypnotic mechanism in Leah’s mind,” she said, gently stroking Leah’s hair and tucking it behind her ears. “It integrates with her haustoric implant and serves as a watchdog of sorts. You saw it in the bath, earlier, when she lost her train of thought after asking about your scar. That’s… oh, no, no, no, this is the wrong way to explain it, the wrong place to start, and the wrong time to do it.”

“Wait, those blackouts are intentional?” Cass said, staring. “All the times it happened I thought that was some kind of glitch because of the drugs she’s on or because you fucked with her mind too much!”

“No, no,” Polyphylla said. “It’s to– she has a great deal of trauma that I have buried as deeply as I can, but every new experience has the potential to find its way down to– down isn’t the right word, I’m talking about specific neurons–“ She made a frustrated noise. “This language is so limited. How to simplify… it’s to keep her from dredging up her trauma by selectively editing her memory in real-time. Think of it like… like a circuitbreaker, yes? A little bit of memory gets wiped to prevent a larger problem from arising.” She paused. “You said ‘all the times.’ How many times have you seen her do that since you met her?”

“I…I don’t know,” Cass said. “Five or six, maybe more?” She was too busy trying to fully internalize what she was being told to sift through her memories for details. A fucking psychic circuitbreaker?!

“Five or six?! Ugh!” She squeezed Leah close. “No wonder she’s going into recursion if her eqilibrium is that unstable! Oh, my poor little petal. It’s been so long since the last time this happened, I thought we were finally past it. I thought I’d finally gotten her to a point where I could just relax and let her be happy and find her own way! That’s why I’ve been training her to be more independent, to go out on her own. Oh flower, I’m so, so sorry, this is all my fault! I should have kept you closer…”

“You’re saying I did this?” Cass said, a chill running up her spine and crouching, claws out, at the back of her neck. “Just being around me breaks her brain?”

“It’s not being around you specifically,” Polyphylla said. “Well, maybe just a little, but only because you probably remind her of who she used to be. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you’re pretty clearly someone who is familiar with violence. She used to be as well.”

“The real Leah, you mean?”

“There is no real Leah, Cass, any more than there’s a fake Leah,” Polyphylla said, either too tired or too focused on the floret in her vines to sound exasperated. “There’s just Leah. My Leah. My poor, sweet Leah.” She nuzzled into the girl’s slack, sleeping face.

“But you made her this way,” Cass insisted. “You… you built up this version of her–“

“I only cut away the scar tissue of her life in the Accord so she could finally bloom as she was meant to,” Polyphylla said, and for a moment there was an edge of bitterness in her voice, but she mastered it and pushed it away. “Cass, I promise you that I will explain everything, but I’m sure you can understand that right now, I am in no state for it. Leah needs me. I’m going to take her to my office and begin bringing her back up, slowly and carefully dosed on xenodrugs to keep her stable and in a trance state. I’ll need quiet for the diagnostics I’ll run after that, and any work I do to shore up her mnemonic equilibrium. I know we’ve had difficulties, but can you please cooperate with me that far at least, for Leah’s sake?”

Cass nodded. She didn’t even have to think about it. The sound of Leah sobbing and crying out in confusion and despair was etched into Cass’s heart. That was one thing she could agree with Polyphylla about — she didn’t ever want to hear that sound again. “I just… one thing, first?” she said as Polyphylla rose to her feet. “Why? Why did you do this to her?”

“Why do you think?” Polyphylla said, looking down and meeting her with red-and-violet-flecked eyes. “She asked me to.”