<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Hey, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?

<UnearthedHope> No, of course not. It’s nice to hear from you. I haven’t heard back from Polyphylla, so I’m assuming she’s been explaining things to you?

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Uh. That’s one way to put it, yeah.

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> You know about Leah, right?

<UnearthedHope> I know about her, yes. I told Polyphylla she should explain, that it might help you understand what she’s trying to do a bit better.

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> No, I get that, she did, but you know about Leah, right? That she had a meltdown last night?

<UnearthedHope> Oh. No, no I hadn’t. Are you okay? Do I need to come over? Does Polyphylla need help with anything? Her last episode was prior to my arrival on the Tillandsia but she has spoken about it to me about Leah’s difficulties before so I believe I have a fairly good idea of what may have happened.

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Polyphylla wants to keep things quiet for a day or two for her, so… probably not.

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Believe me I would rather have you here. Polyphylla has cooled off a lot from before, but at least some of that is just her worrying about Leah and not having the emotional bandwidth to give a shit about the feral terran.

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> But I get why she worries. And I get why she wants to let Leah have space to recover.

<UnearthedHope> I see. Very well. It is still very nice to hear from you. Can we continue to converse on here, if my presence there would be unhelpful?

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> I’d like that, yeah. Once she gets some more sleep Leah’s probably going back on the table, so there’s not a lot for me to do besides browse your net.

<UnearthedHope> I’m glad you’re feeling more comfortable, at least. Do you have a better appreciation of what domestication entails now?

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> I’m never going to be okay with it, Tsuga. Like, yes, in Leah’s case…I see why she wants it, I don’t judge her for that, and I don’t think it’s wrong for her to get care she needs. But not every terran is Leah! Most of us are still capable of dealing with our own problems.

<UnearthedHope> From what I’ve seen, I’m not sure that’s the case. Collectively, your species seemed to have had a great deal of problems you were unable to solve.

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Yeah, and the vast majority are rooted in capitalism, which you fixed. Look, I don’t mean to be an asshole, but can we talk about literally anything else? I just need a break. I need to process this before I can debate it.

<UnearthedHope> Of course. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> You didn’t, and it’s important, and we should absolutely talk about it. But not right now, ok?

<UnearthedHope> I understand. It’s probably something better discussed in person, anyway.

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Yeah. Maybe in a couple days, when Leah’s more stable. She’s doing better, but she’s still a little shaky around the edges. At least, I think that’s what Polyphylla was implying. She claims to be watering down the jargon for me, but I’m not so sure.

<UnearthedHope> She can be like that, yes. She’s a very impressive mnemonic engineer, though, especially for someone so young.

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Young, in this case, meaning “only about as old as some of the books I’ve recommended to you.”

<UnearthedHope> Youth is relative.

The next few days followed a similar routine for Cass. She and Leah would wake together, cuddle for a bit, and eat a hearty breakfast with Polyphylla. Then, Polyphylla would bathe Leah separately, so she could enjoy her xenodrugged shampoo, before taking her to her office to begin working on her again. Cass would bathe after that, then largely have the day to herself until Polyphylla brought Leah back up and made dinner in the late afternoon. Leah’s mood and stability improved day by day, first spacier and clingier than Cass had ever seen her, then slowly regaining her usual joie d’vivre, until by the fourth day she was more or less herself again.

Herself again. Cass couldn’t deny it anymore — she’d seen Leah at her worst, when all of Polyphylla’s programming had begun to fall apart and eat itself, and even then she’d still been her. True, Polyphylla had removed a significant chunk of Leah’s memory, but then, there were things Cass wished she could forget too, and things she’d buried so deeply she very nearly had. Would forgetting those things change who she was? Would that change be so bad, even if it did? The question ate at her, the one knot in the tapestry of questions she couldn’t quite untangle.

She could answer for Leah, at least, if not for herself. Finally seeing that lighthearted, unconcerned smile again after several days of a strangely cautious and hesitant Leah had given Cass nearly as much relief as it had Polyphylla. She wanted this. She asked for this. Now she has it. Every careful touch, every kiss, every moment spent snuggling drove the understanding home: what had been done to Leah was not abuse — it was repairing what abuse had done to Leah. As drastic as it was, as horrifying as it sounded and seemed in a vacuum, seeing it happen in real time as Polyphylla reestablished her equilibrium made it clearer than any words could: Leah needed this, and it was a good thing that she had it.

And yet, Cass couldn’t seem to find a way to square what she knew about Leah with what she knew about the Affini, or about herself. They wanted to domesticate her, and even if she didn’t need it, they weren’t interested in listening. She wasn’t like Leah — yes, she’d seen some pretty awful things in her life, endured things that had broken her in no few ways for a while, but she had grown past those hurts, put herself back together, and emerged stronger for it. She didn’t need someone to reach into her head and tinker with her memories to make a theoretically better version of her. She was the Cass she needed to be, and that others needed her to be. Cutting away the parts of her that hurt would be undercutting the parts that let her be that Cass, and she’d collapse the minute she was needed most. Too many people were counting on her, and she couldn’t betray them like that.

It wasn’t until Tsuga arrived on the fourth day that her thought-spiral was meaningfully interrupted. Leah was having her first lazy morning in several days, with Polyphylla observing her instead of actively working on her mind. She and Cass were lying in a bed of flowers together, cuddling and watching clouds go by, when the hab announced Tsuga’s arrival. “Hey cuties, guess who’s here?”

“Bet that’s Tsuga,” Cass said, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “Okay if I go say hi?”

“Mmmyeah,” Leah said, biting her lip and playing with a flower, feeling its texture with her fingertips — she was still good and buzzed on Class-As from her bath.

“Okay,” Cass said, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. “Have fun with that.” Leah let out a giggle that bubbled up into a laugh as Cass made her way to the hab’s entryway. The door slid open and there Tsuga stood, and Cass felt a wave of relief wash over her. “Hey,” she said with an honest smile.

“Hey,” Tsuga said. It was Tsuga, but something about her was off, a subtle difference in her shape — a little more humanoid than it had been before, legs a little more trim, the foliage around her head a little more like an actual hairstyle (Very butch. Cass approved.). And had she gotten taller? “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. But I am really glad to see you — I guess I just got used to having you to argue about things with, huh?” Cass’s scalp tightened, one of the many ways her internal heuristic for Not Fucking Up Conversation was politely informing her that this might have been just a tad too much to lead with. Pivot! Pivot! “I, uh… I like what you’ve done with your hair.”

“…I don’t have hair?” Tsuga said, confused.

“No, I know, I just mean–“ Thanks, brain. More like that. “You look different, that’s all.”

“Ah, that. Yes, I’ve been working on refining this shape so that it looks a bit more terran-y. Moving mass around, getting used to it, rediscovering a sense of balance. It’s rather more… bipedal than I’m used to. I feel very top-heavy, as if I’m about to fall over.”

“Well, you look plenty graceful to me,” Cass said. “Come on in. Leah’s high as a kite and doing fine.”

“I am very glad to hear that,” she said. “Ah, Polyphylla, hello,” she added as they entered the common clearing, where Polyphylla was gently tickling Leah.

“Tsuga, there you are,” she said, continuing to play with Leah, who squirmed and giggled as she rolled around in the flowers. “Thank you for coming by. I know Cass has been looking forward to this.”

“As have I,” Tsuga said as she walked across the room — slowly, Cass noticed, so as not to make her have to jog to keep up with her long strides. “And Leah, is her… ah, the, uhm…” She added a quick bit of Affini to the end her sentence.

“Mnemonic equilibrium,” Polyphylla supplied, smiling. “And yes, much better. Not quite ideal, but we’ll see if she can’t get on-nominal by herself.” She scooped Leah up into her arms and stood. “She’s a tough little cutie. I think she can manage it. Isn’t that right, sweetling?”

“Yes, Mistress!” Leah managed to say through her gigglefit.

“Good, good,” Tsuga said, smiling and stroking Leah’s hair. Now that she was standing next to Polyphylla, Cass could definitely mark the difference in her height — she’d always had nearly a head (an Affini head, at that) on Polyphylla, but now she might have been a third of a meter taller, maybe even half a meter. It was dizzying. “Do you mind if we have a moment together?”

“No, of course not. Come on, Leah, let’s go have a snuggle party, and maybe a nap, and let Cass and Tsuga catch up!” She gave the (still giggling) girl a squeeze and spun her around, earning a squeal of delight as she she carried her off to one of the other room. Soon the common clearing was silent save for the natural sounds of the forest and the gentle thrumming that Cass couldn’t help but pick up from Tsuga.

“So,” Tsuga said, kneeling down and smiling. Cass still had to look up at her, but at least she didn’t have to crane her neck quite so much. “How are you holding up? You said things have been better between you and Polyphylla, but there’s more to well-being than that.”

“I’m fine,” Cass said. “Just… I would really like this bullshit to be over and done with. I don’t particularly enjoy these sword of Damocles situations. That’s… that means ‘impending doom,’” she added, seeing the confused riffle of Tsuga’s needles.

“Ah. Well, I wouldn’t call domestication doom per se. You’ve had enough time with Leah to see that. That is– do you feel well enough to have this conversation?” Her eyes flickered in waves of blue and indigo, and she wore a reasonable facsimile of an expression of concern.

“Yeah, I think so,” Cass said. “And, yeah, like I said, I get why it can be a good thing. Leah needed help, and she got it. Fine. I accept that. But I’m willing to bet that ninety-eight percent of the time, my take is the more accurate one. Power corrupts, Tsuga, and you have too much fucking power.”

“I disagree vehemently on your characterization of domestication as something corruptive,” Tsuga replied. She paused, and glanced to the floral sofa. “Shall we sit?”

“Sure,” Cass said, following Tsuga over to the sofa and taking the proffered vine, using it as a stepping stone to haul herself up. “But I’m not wrong. This is absolutely a power thing. The Captain wants me to give up my comrades, and I’m being threatened with domestication if I don’t comply!”

“… I will acknowledge that the Captain wants that information, but I think you are misunderstanding the motivation. E wants Polyphylla to get that information from you, yes, but doing so will not require domesticating you. And in any case, I don’t believe that’s nearly so pressing an issue for em at this point.”

That sounds ominous as hell. “…what do you mean?”

Tsuga drummed her fingers on her knee for a moment, creating a series of staccato wood-clacking sounds. “Nell was brought in a few days ago.”

Cass’s heart plummeted, as if the world itself had dropped out from under her. “What?!”

“She’s doing well, I’ve seen her,” Tsuga said, a soothing tone to her voice that did nothing to help Cass’s mood. “She was apparently found in a little tent somewhere in the valley east of the mountains. The Captain has been taking care of her since then, and e thinks she’ll be willing to talk soon.”

“Bullshit,” Cass hissed. But she knew all too well that everyone cracked eventually, and she remembered how easily the Captain had gotten inside Nell’s head over an insult. Her blood ran cold. “Don’t tell me that bastard is already fucking with her mind again?!”

“No, I don’t believe so, actually,” Tsuga said. “It’s something of a point of pride for em, as I understand it — from what I’ve heard, anyway. E prefers to work without fascination, posthypnotic suggestions, or even most xenodrugs.”

“… you mean torture,” Cass whispered. Somewhere behind her eyes a black pit yawned wide, but she squeezed the feelings of terror back down until they were a tiny mote she could go back to pretending didn’t exist.

“What? No! No, of course not!” Tsuga said, openly horrified. “Cass, you can’t possibly think us capable of that sort of thing, can you?”

Cass stood firm, staring up at her, focusing on her chin to avoid her eyes. “Tsuga, if there is one thing I know about your people, it’s that every time I think I know what you’re capable of, I learn exactly how wrong I am.”

“We would never harm any being like that!” Tsuga said forcefully. “Surely you must understand we don’t have that kind of behavior in us! What the Captain is doing is more… psychological. I’m not an expert on eir particular methodology, but I think it’s clear e wants Nell to realize that we have your best interests in mind, and that struggling is not only futile but counterproductive to both our ends.”

“I want to see her,” Cass said. “I want to see her right now.”

“I’ll ask the Captain if that’s possible,” Tsuga said. “I promise. I’m sure it will be, but perhaps not immediately. She’s your friend, and you want to see her. No doubt she wants to see you, though I imagine she has rather a lot else on her mind at the moment…regardless, I can’t imagine the Captain would want to keep you separated long-term.”

“Is everything alright?” Polyphylla had returned, sans Leah. “I heard raised voices.”

“It’s fine,” Tsuga said. “I was just passing the news to Cass that Nell’s aboard and with the Captain.”

“Aaah,” Polyphylla said, nodding. “Well, that explains that. Please don’t be worried, Cass, the Captain is really very gentle.”

“Oh, good, a gentle brainscrambling,” Cass said, laying the sarcasm on as thick as she could.

“And we were making such progress,” Polyphylla sighed. She crossed the room and sat on the sofa, trapping Cass between her and Tsuga. “I thought you were over this idea of domestication as a bad thing.”

“For Leah, maybe. Not for Nell, and definitely not for me.” She edged a bit closer to Tsuga.

“Well, Nell will likely have a very different opinion soon,” Polyphylla said, “so I suggest you prepare yourself for that. As to your case, well, that remains to be seen. And that is something I would like to talk to you about. Tsuga suggested I leave the issue alone until we could both be here, because she felt it would help you feel less threatened.”

“…I already don’t like where this is going,” Cass said, her skin prickling. Suddenly she felt as if there’d been a tiger loose in the room the entire time, and she’d only just noticed it as it was getting ready to pounce.

“It’s alright,” Tsuga said. One of her vines coiled around Cass’s waist; she leaned into it, and it tightened around her gently. “We’ve been talking over the last few days, Cass, and we have a proposal for you. We’d like to run it by you, if that’s alright.”

“If you sold me out, Tsuga–“ Cass began, glaring up at her.

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about selling anything,” Tsuga said. “Please. Let’s talk.”

Cass was still for a long moment. “Fine. What is this big plan of yours?”

“You’ll recall that I spoke to you about your psyche map,” Polyphylla said. “Mnemonic landmarks and so forth?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Cass said. “And you explained Leah’s, and what you did to her. Just because I’ve seen you do it doesn’t mean I want it myself.”

“That’s not what I want to talk to you about,” Polyphylla said. “This is purely about my evaluation of you for the wardship, and how I would like to approach that. The trouble with observing you is that you have a very strong feral persona — not your baseline personality, to clarify, but the version of yourself that you present to the world around you. I’m not saying that you’re evasive,” she added. “Most people maintain a persona to one degree or another. In your case, you’re highly guarded, even hypervigilant, in a way that suggests no small amount of past trauma without necessarily offering any clues to what that trauma might be.”

Cass shivered. She was doing the creepy mind-reading thing again. “That’s my own business, not yours.”

“It is my business for the purposes of the wardship. I know you have very little trust in me, and I accept that. I made some…missteps when we started out–“

“That’s putting it mildly,” Cass growled, shooting a dirty look up at her.

“–but I’d like to think we’ve made up ground on that,” she went on. “I would like to do what we call a mnemonic regression on you. Think of it like a guided tour of your past — we’ll sift directly through your memories while you’re in a trance state. With that information we can complete an accurate psyche map–“

“Absolutely not!” Her heart rate practically doubled on the spot as fear swelled up inside her until she thought it might block her airway.

“–and Tsuga has offered to chaperone, with a promise to stop me from making any changes to your memory or cognition beyond those necessary for the regression itself,” she finished. “Not that I would do that, but for your own comfort.”

“Why in the world do you think I’d be okay with that?” Cass said, whirling around to stare up at Tsuga. Her gut churned, and her hands had tightened into fists of their own accord.

“Cass, if Polyphylla can’t make a solid recommendation that you be allowed to remain independent, she’s going to have to recommend you for domestication,” Tsuga said gently. “I know you don’t like the idea, but it’s your best hope of getting what you want.”

“And what if you get in there, dig up things that should stay buried, and decides, oh no, this one’s too broken?” she spat. She turned back to Polyphylla. “Where is the line drawn? Is it just your subjective decision? Because forgive me if I don’t trust you to make that in good faith considering your biological imperatives!”

“Please lower your voice,” Polyphylla said, her form tightening in a dangerous way even though her voice remained gentle. “Leah is asleep, but if you wake her up and upset her, I will be very unhappy.”

Cass gritted her teeth. “Sorry. But I’m not wrong!”

“You have my word,” Polyphylla said evenly, “that if in the course of a mnemonic regression I find sufficient evidence that you are not a danger to yourself or to others, and that you are capable of slackening your feral persona given extended exposure to the Compact’s way of life, then I will recommend that you remain an independent sophont.”

“And you have my word,” Tsuga added, “that I will be there the entire time, watching over you.” There was something in her voice, an undertone or a resonance, that Cass felt like a gentle breeze. “Please,” Tsuga added, offering Cass another vine, held out in front of her.

Cass sucked in a breath, reached out, and took it. They’re just going to do it anyway if you say no, she thought. Either before or after they seal your fate. “Your word,” she said, looking up at Polyphylla. “If I’ve even got a toe over the ‘I can hack it’ line, you turn me loose.”

“If you prove not to be a threat to yourself or to others,” Polyphylla repeated, “and if I believe you are capable of relaxing your feral persona, then yes, I will recommend that you remain independent. You may still require some degree of observation, to ensure you don’t backslide, but you would not be under a wardship.”

“….” Cass reached out and took Tsuga’s vine in her hand. “Okay,” she said, squeezing it. “But don’t fuck me on this,” she added in a low whisper.

“I will do no such thing,” Polyphylla said, rising to her feet. “But I will give you two some more time alone together. I know Tsuga has been looking forward to that. I’ll go start preparations for the mnemonic regression. It won’t happen today, there’s too much to do, and I need to preload a series of control responses into your mind before we can put you under. Tomorrow, perhaps, for a first session, but we’ll see.”

“Thank you for all the hard work,” Tsuga said as Polyphylla walked away. “We very much appreciate it.” She sat there with Cass for a moment, then added, “May I?” as she lifted one enormous hand and hesitated. Cass nodded, and she gently settled it on Cass’s back, fingers weaving between arm and body to rest against her. She leaned into the comfortable weight and sighed, tension rushing out of her. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, not great,” Cass said. “I don’t like this idea. But I also know you’re probably right and it’s the only way I get out of this with my brain intact.”

“Your brain would stay intact regardless, Cass,” Tsuga said, giving her a gentle squeeze. “You know that.”

“Yes, yes,” Cass grumbled, “but not in a way that matters. I am the product of my experiences, Tsuga, good and bad, and I’ve become the person I am for a reason. I don’t want that to change.”

“For what it’s worth, I would prefer that outcome as well,” Tsuga said. “I think you are a marvelous little sophont, with a brilliant mind and a very strong drive to help others, and I would never want to change that about you. These are all good things, but we can’t allow those good things to come at the expense of your own well-being.”

“But I’m fine,” Cass protested. “I’m only here because the Captain is mad that I didn’t just roll over and do everything you all wanted the minute you showed up!”

“That is not entirely correct,” Tsuga said, “but I will admit that the Captain would like for you to tell us where the terrans down on the surface are hiding so we can help them, even if it’s not eir first priority for you any longer.”

“I can’t betray them like that,” Cass said, clenching her fists again. “They trusted me.” She froze, and stared up at Tsuga. “Don’t let Polyphylla go digging there!”

“I won’t,” Tsuga said, “though I think she’s going to be more concerned with less recent events, the formative ones for your feral persona.”

“I don’t have a feral fucking persona,” Cass said, heat rising in her neck and in her cheeks, scrabbling at her skull looking for ways into her head.

“It’s a technical term, not a value judgement.”

“Bullshit!” Cass slipped out from under Tsuga’s hand and stood up on the floral sofa, tugging her way free of the vine around her waist. “You know it’s bullshit, too! You see something you can’t have, and you decide, ‘well, actually, we can have it, because we say so.’”

“That is not accurate,” Tsuga said gently. “And you know that. Please calm down.” Tsuga offered the hand again, palm up. “Please. I know we’re ideologically opposed on this, but I’d rather we not let anger into this. We really are only trying to help you, to whatever degree you require it.”

Cass stared at the hand for a long second, then back up at Tsuga. “You really just do not get it,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “You just don’t get it.”

“I do get it. But I also get that often, sophonts don’t realize when they need help. That is, to be perfectly honest, as true for us as it is for you.” She leaned in a bit closer. “I am not,” she added, “particularly well for an Affini, as you may have noticed.”

“No one’s threatening to domesticate you,” Cass replied.

“No, but domestication isn’t something to threaten with, or to punish with. Leah is an extreme case, and even then you can surely see the love Polyphylla has for her.”

Cass shivered, the anger coalescing into a heavy lump in her stomach. “I know that,” she hissed, looking away. Tears began to well up, hot and insistent, in her eyes. “I know she loves her.”

“And if you do require domestication, your owner will love you just as powerfully,” Tsuga went on. She hesitated for a moment, then added, “And they would want you to feel the same way. To feel safe and comforted by their presence. To enjoy their company. Domestication is an act of love, Cass. I know you find it discomforting, even terrifying, on a conceptual level, but it is perhaps the purest act of love that exists.”

“Don’t say that,” Cass whispered, squeezed her eyes shut. Don’t let it get to you. It’s just psychological warfare tactics she’s had culturally instilled into her. Don’t let it get to you! The tears streamed down her cheeks, the salt taste catching on her lips.

“Please, come here,” Tsuga said, reaching out with her hand. Little vines slipped free of her fingers, gently probing as if to ask for permission. Unable to stop herself, Cass leaned into it, sucking in a deep, sniffling breath. She let Tsuga guide her back to her side, where she all but collapsed to her knees, crying. “Shhh,” Tsuga said, the gentle pressure of her hand pressing Cass against her. “You don’t have to be afraid. Think about it: we’ve domesticated every species we’ve come across. Every species we’ve ever met, we’ve found a way to love. Isn’t that a thing of transcendent beauty?”

Cass was beyond replying. Are you seriously crying right now? she shouted at herself in her head. You can’t afford this! Stand up and fight, you coward! Are you going to let those bastards win? Are you going to stay broken, or are you going to fight?! Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt the deep, black pit yawning open again, and the ghostly sensation of fire crawling up her arms. Fight! Back! Every hurt they did to you, pay them back tenfold! Tear the whole rotting edifice down! Rage, frustration, and fear swirled together in an incomprehensible storm of emotion, and Cass rocked back and forth against Tsuga as she wrestled desperately with it, trying to force it back down.

And all the while, Tsuga held her, gently but tightly enough to always feel present, a comforting pressure. “I’m here,” she said, her voice rumbling in the gentlest tones that Cass could nonetheless feel throughout her entire body. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Every word, every syllable, was a drumbeat permeating her, that slowly but surely stilled the turmoil inside her. She breathed in time with the beat, and slowly her heart rate began to fall. “I’m here.”

“I’m…so fucking scared, Tsuga,” Cass managed to whisper. Coward, she told herself. Coward! COWARD! You didn’t endure it all just to end up some pampered pet on a leash!

“I know,” Tsuga said. “But it’ll be alright.”

“I can’t just give in,” Cass said, her voice catching on the sobs still lurking in her throat.

“You don’t have to, little one,” Tsuga replied, her voice soft and soothing, drawing more tears out of Cass. “Just be yourself. Just be Cass, and don’t worry about the details.”

“But what if you don’t let me?” she whimpered, pressing her face into Tsuga’s side. Let? Let?! The revulsion screamed up her esophagus as burning, sour bile that she only just managed to choke back down.

“Then you will be loved, and everything will be alright,” Tsuga whispered. “And if you do win back your independence, as I think you will? You will be loved, and everything will be alright. So don’t fret. Don’t fret, petal. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

Cass sucked in a shuddering breath and nodded. That, at least, she believed — Tsuga was the one Affini she trusted to say what she meant. It’s out of my hands now, she told herself. I don’t have a way to stop this. All I can do is hope. Inshallah, I can get through this thing with my mind intact.

But there was still a part of Cass, angry and spiteful, that held herself a coward and a failure for that kind of thinking.