“It’s just–it’s tried to kill itself three times now.”

Cantilop Pepiin, Third Bloom gesticulated wildly with his vines in a habit he must have picked up in Terran space. Venisin Lanse, Eighth Bloom hadn’t seen him in at least a century. And now he had pulled her over from half a galaxy away because of a single floret. But the case was interesting.

“Even on the sedatives?” 

“The last time it was on Class Js. We sent it to a human psych specialist afterwards, you know what it said? It said it was bored’.”

“Huh." 

“Yeah, totally fine, blissed out of its mind squirming in Janeis’s vines one day–we have the logs from its medical implant on that, and the footage from the cafe–the next day it gets left alone for five minutes and somehow finds a toaster and drags it to a bathtub.”

Cantilop’s vines were getting increasingly animated as he explained the puzzle, and Venisin had to start blocking the ones headed for her body–which he naturally didn’t notice. 

“Shouldn’t it have been way too incapacitated for that?” Venisin asked.

“We suspect it tripped or something, human bodies are weirdly fragile like that, it had a bruise right on the outside of its elbow where something humans called the ‘comedian bone’ sits. Then there was a bunch of bleeding in its mouth. Roots it nearly bit off its tongue.”

“So the pain leads to momentary clarity, and momentary clarity leads to ‘I’m going to induce pain until I find a way to kill myself’” 

Venisin paused, then got to her core question.

“So why call me? Because you’ve tried making it happy with the xenodrugs, and it reacted poorly, so you figure I don’t like using xenodrugs and that would help?

“…Yes.”

“You realize there’s a lot of other stuff that comes with that perspective?”

“Yes, and at this point we could use some of that too.” 

He looked uncomfortable at the admission, but Venisin pressed on.

“If it's a discipline case why not just get the haustronic implant right away? Wouldn’t this be much more easily fixed with some neurochemistry? Maybe throw in an object fixation on a toy or something? Or if it got this far, why pull me from across the rotting galaxy and not just jump to Class O?”

Cantilop shrugged. “We’d negotiated a peaceful surrender with some rebels. It wasn’t one of them, but fell under the deal. So no on the implant or the Class O.”

“Hmm…”

“Yep, and because we need to figure this out, I’ve already talked with the local Domestication Agency Department on Floret Health and Wellness and we’re willing to create exemptions for quite a bit of your... preferences... to get this case under control.

“That’s great? But also… quite drastic. Even with that…” 

“Well like I said it’s not just the suicide attempts. The other stuff is pretty drastic. It was on Class Js because it had broken out of the Janeis’s hab twice in a row.”

Cantilop’s vines got more excited again as he continued.

“The second time was real impressive, it used a vineprint off a water glass to get through the backup door sensor.”

“How’d it get the panel open?”

“Back of its toothbrush. But the real hitter is what it said when we retrieved it from a VERY off-limits-to-humans synthesizer plant.”

“Let me guess, it was bored.”

“How’d-“

“If boredom will make it kill itself I’m sure it’d happily break out of a hab unit first.” Venisin forced a smile.

She didn’t believe for a second that this sophont was actually bored. Nevermind that feeling bored was basically impossible on Class J xenodrugs. But whatever was actually going on, she'd most likely need to figure it out herself. It was clear there was some kind of blindspot here.

“So you remembered that I actually enjoyed dealing with the Kvėnzrkrom situation and all its complications, and you figured this might be similar,” she changed the subject.

"Yeah. We tried some others first, but everyone declined after the trial period."

Venisin was silent for a while. The sheer determination required to attempt suicide while on class Js intrigued her. And she’d eat her coat if there wasn’t more depth to this floret than what a couple of failed matching attempts had found.

“Very well, I’ll meet her. And then I’ll decide.”

—

Kira paced. She thought she was mostly lucid. She counted to 31 in binary on her left hand, and it seemed to go at roughly the right pace. She’d used this trick a lot lately, and the anxious part of her brain was worried she was learning to do it even when under the effects of xenodrugs. 

She owed this trick a lot. The combination of coordination, memory, and higher order reasoning had helped differentiate her Class Es from her Class Cs, and suddenly being unable to make it past 23 had finally tipped her off that her last plant overlord was, in fact, dosing her with a working memory inhibitor in her sleep.

Luckily turning a discarded vine into a noose had taken almost no working memory at all.

Unluckily it hadn’t quite worked well enough.

She'd have to start thinking up alternatives. For the trick and for the noose.

Now she was going to meet another potential owner, who’d test drive her like some used car and decide her particular brand of restlessness and anxiety and determination wasn’t worth the trouble. She was fully expecting to get Class O’d sometime soon. Then it would finally be over. The affini two owners ago had threatened it, and the only reason she hadn’t asked for it herself yet was that she slightly preferred to go out on her own terms. Death of the spirit was the same as physical death, and she’d yet to find any spirit in any of the Class O pets she’d found. 

It wasn’t death that scared her, it was losing herself. She’d worked too hard, fought too much, overcome too many obstacles to become who she was only to have that identity torn away by some alien who thought being 10 feet tall and green gave them some kind of automatic right of ownership. More importantly she’d made promises that she intended to keep, even in death.

The pacing got tiring so Kira went back to inspecting the walls of the hab unit they’d locked her in. They’d done a better job this time. No tools that could potentially be used to jam into one of the panels, and anything resembling a manual safety override had been removed or covered up before she got here. Just when she was going to start banging her head against something for stimulation, the door opened and Cop-something walked in. 

He looked like he was about to say something, but a vine reached in through the door and pushed him to the side.

Kira’s breathing hitched when she saw the affini that followed. It had these long, shimmery strands going down its body, something that wasn't quite a vine and wasn't quite a flower. Kira couldn’t figure out if they were a white that shimmered purple , or a purple that glowed white. The vines ran through a smooth set of leaves, plated together almost like armor of leaves, and she could just make out a whole array of colorful flowers hidden on the underside. It was beautiful.

The clean patterns and hidden complexity spoke of control, of hidden depth, and suddenly Kira felt lonely. She looked up to see that the two of them were now alone, and that it was inspecting her at least as intensely as she’d been staring at it. The stare reminded her of–no, best not to think about that. She needed to be strong.

It sat down by the door, and broke the ice. “My name is Venisin Lanse, Eighth Bloom. And you would be?”

The stare had paralyzed Kira, halting the constant motion and almost anxious twitching that followed her everywhere. But Kira wasn’t ready to let herself be taken in by that. “Don’t you already know?”

“I have entirely avoided learning about you, besides that you have a penchant for escape, and that you don’t seem to particularly value your life.”

Venisin paused to tap her face with a vine. Unlike most affini Kira had met, she seemed to eschew the fake arms made of vines and instead only popped individual vines out when she wanted to grab something or make a gesture. It emphasized on the graceful, controlled appearance, like an otherworldly general dancing through the world with their hands clapped behind their back. Kira guessed others might have found it unsettling, but she thought it was beautiful.

Venisin’s next sentence took her out of her reverie.

“But I don’t think you really want to kill yourself.”

“What about three suicide attempts makes you think I don’t mean it?” Kira was indignant.

“If you managed a suicide attempt on Class Js you should have managed a successful suicide before then. From everything I've read humans are pretty fragile.” Venisin answered. 

There was a pause. “And you’re pretty inventive.”

Kira didn't know how to respond to that. The invalidation infuriated her. But the almost flirty compliment took the edge off. And the brazenness of it spoke to something much deeper. So she settled on an indignant look. 

“Fine," Venisin continued the conversation like nothing had happened, "Let's start with some easier topics. I would love to refer to you by something other than 'it' so a name and whatever species specific pronouns you use would be great.”

Kira took a breath. This she could do. "My name is Kira. Humans use she/they/he pronouns, most only use one, but I'm fine with she or they."

“Great,” Venisin nodded, “you'll have to explain more about their significance sometime. I think we should start by getting you somewhere less boring, there's scratch marks on the walls and your foot has begun rapidly twitching.”

Kira's foot had, in fact, begun twitching. But she still had questions.

"Aren't you worried I'll try to run?" Came out first.

Venisin didn't even bat a simulated eyelash. 

“Nope. We both know you’re not escaping this ship, and you’re too curious and too smart to get into mischief right after we’ve met,” Venisin said, “Let's start with this instead, though: What do I need to do so you don’t try to kill yourself again?”

Kira hadn’t expected that question. 

But she had an answer.

“No xenodrugs.”

“OK.” Venisin didn’t even blink. 

“See, you didn’t mea– what?” Kira gaped.

“I’ve spent the last five blooms with a species that originated from a highly toxic homeworld and filtered out almost all of our substances instantly. I’m not in the habit of using them, and I think we rely on them too much as a species.” Venisin tapped a vine to the floor next to her. “Is that all?”

“Uhh," Kira needed a moment to process that, "I guess?"

There was another moment as gears turned in her head. “Not to… Not to sound ungrateful I guess but… how do you intend to, uhh, ‘do this’ without xenodrugs?”

Venisin’s look suddenly got even more intense, and Kira felt absolutely pinned to the spot.

“You mean ‘how do intend to keep you a well behaved and obedient floret without drugging you out of your mind?’” There was an edge in her voice now.

The color on Venisin’s glowing vines grew a shade darker, and suddenly Kira thought she looked a lot more malicious and plant-monster-y.

“I’ll punish you, of course. I studied your biology on the way over, and your nervous systems are so sensitive.” She seemed to almost be sparking. “I’m sure we can find something to keep you in line.”

The sudden dominance hit Kira like a punch in the gut, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. The threat of violence should have scared her. It did scare her, but there was something else there too, something she was trying to keep boxed away. She had to push back.

"I- I-Isnt that unethical?"

Somehow Venisin's smile got meaner. 

"Well, my little petal, the board sometimes makes exceptions for special little sophonts like yourself where higher class xenodrugs aren't an option.” Why couldn’t Kira look away from that smile?? “And then they bring in a specialist like myself. But that won't be an issue because you'll be a well behaved little flower won't you?"

“Y-Yes Mi-Venisin,” she stuttered.

"Alright," Venisin was suddenly all business again, "you will walk two steps behind me and one step to the right at all times. You will keep your focus on me. You seem bright so I expect you’ll be curious about your surroundings regardless, but if I for a second feel your focus isn’t perfectly on me, I will punish you. Fail to stay in your spot, and I will punish you. Simple.”

Kira spent a moment trying to regain control of herself but instead turned a bright pink. Then she shook herself, and finally found her composure.

“Umm, is there something you’d like me to call you?” She asked.

Venisin tapped a vine to her face. “Hmm, yes, I’ve read of a variety of titles you Terrans use for superiors. You may call me master.” 

Kira took a deep breath, and didn’t let it affect her as much this time.

“Yes Master.”

She could do this. She could keep her promises while staying in proximity to this evil, dominating plant monster. She'd follow the rules, maybe even lean into some of her instincts to make it easier. But she wouldn't get emotionally involved. At least it wasn’t being possessive.

“Oh, and you probably think this is going to be some kind of trial period, after which I leave you to the next hapless plant. That’s not happening anymore. I've decided I'm taking you, and nothing you or anyone else can do will change that.”

Kira felt herself falling.