Haven sat nervously in the chair Anix had pced her in. It was Affini-sized, which meant it was far too rge for her and it left her only just able to see over the table, but it was nevertheless very comfortable. She had been sitting patiently while Anix briefed the other members of the committee on what her life had been like since she'd woken up from the cryosleep that had freezerburned half her body off.

  Wish it had just done the whole thing, she thought to herself. Good enough for three-quarters of the people who went in, but not me. Follow-up thoughts revolved mostly around what a horrible person she was to have had those thoughts in the first pce, and how she was the only one who actually should have died (well, maybe her father too; she was horrible for thinking that thought, but he was also horrible, so it canceled out like multiplying negative numbers).

  "And, st but certainly not least, there has been some very recent activity on the ~romantic~ front," Anix said, giving Haven a gentle headpat with a vine and shaking her out of her thought-spiral. "With none other than fellow chronodispced survivor Tara Dvoretskaya! I've included their file in Appendix B, if you'd like to take a look. They are an extremely charming little sophont and have adapted to the Compact exceptionally well."

  "Well, I'm very gd to hear that," said the sleek, masculine affini sitting across from Haven. Orchis Lunaria was the representative from the Bureau of Xenosophont Wellness, and he reminded Haven of what little she'd seen of Scoparia — very focused, very serious. His foliage was all from some kind of alien biosphere where all the leaves were iridescent, like petrochemicals in water. "It's good to hear that, given the option, she's choosing to associate with sophonts who acclimate well. I am a little concerned about the game itself, however, given how fresh the trauma of capitalism is for her in an experiential sense."

  "I'd like to inquire about that as well," added Thyrsiflora Heterantha. She was, according to her introduction, a xenopsychologist, but Haven didn't remember much more because she couldn't stop staring at the enormous antler-like branches that swept back from her head. They had to make up at least a third of her mass. "Haven, as I understand it, you came from an extremely privileged stratum of Terran society, and were therefore shielded from the direct stresses of capital if not the indirect ones. Are you entirely comfortable with simuted capitalism in the context of a social game?"

  Haven fidgeted uncomfortably. So far, she hadn't been asked to talk, and that was entirely fine by her. "Well, uhm, I think it's fun? I mean, I'm not doing what I used to have to do, which was mostly just, you know, go to board meetings and have lunch with horrible people and do speeches at quarterly presentations and-" She had the sense-memory of something being caught in her throat, and that was enough to make her pause. "I like being a secretary," she continued after a moment. "I just... type things, or take messages, or find the right paperwork. It's easy, it's always something specific, and it's not— I'm sorry but I don't know how else to describe what I used to have to do besides bullshit. Everything about being an executive is bullshit."

  "I do value that honesty, Haven," Thyrsiflora said, smiling and putting Haven totally off her guard. Was she not about to be yelled at for cursing? "And I can see how discrete, straightforward tasks would be preferable to loosely-defined tasks without any meaningful feedback. Yet, I've had a look at your vitals, and I can't help but notice your cortisol levels are through the roof. Your office game seems at turns to exacerbate and ameliorate the issue."

  "She does suffer from generalized anxiety, I've discovered," Anix said. "Were it not for the fact that her system is still recovering from cryovitrification and her endogenous mass fluctuating as the cambium ttice reconstructs her tissues, I'd already have her on anxiolytics."

  "Mmm. That was a common affliction for your species, early on," Thyrsiflora said, nodding along. "Well, I'd begin that as soon as possible, even if only as a microdose. To be clear, Haven, there are strong positive signs in your vitals as well. From the annotations Anix has provided, a great many of them have to do with Tara."

  The fidgeting began again. I don't know how they can stand to be around me. "Tara's nice. They got me the secretary job in the game, and I like working for them. They're a good boss." She was the only boss Haven had ever had whose name wasn't Dad, so this wasn't saying much by comparison, but Haven was sure Tara would be a great boss no matter what anyone's previous track record of bosses was. This made it particurly unfair that Haven was such a waste of space as a secretary. She selfishly wished that she could be at work right now, filing papers for Ms. Dvoretskaya, instead of sitting in this wardship meeting.

  "I think someone's just a touch flustered on the subject," Anix said, her vine coiling gently around Haven's shoulders. "There's a budding romantic retionship here, no doubt, and one that I heartily encourage — which is one of several reasons why I passed on that request to fast-track the oral reconstruction to you, Xanthisma."

  "And I'm happy to report that it's been properly cultivated and is ready for instaltion." Xanthisma Iogeton, who was shaped less like a terran and more like a big, colorful bush made entirely of flower petals, shook faerself out with what Haven could only assume was excitement. "Phormia's ready to conduct the procedure at any time. If you wanted, you could drop in right after this meeting and have it done."

  Images fshed half-remembered through Haven's mind; freezing cold in the dark, her lungs burning as she struggled to work them. Alien chatter overhead as they worked on flesh she could no longer feel, flesh she no longer had, dead flesh that had been cut away.

  "Excellent!" Anix said. "And that'll prune two branches with one cut, because it'll also allow us to begin work on evaluating food-reted wellness skills for little Haven. Just think, flower — you're going to get to chew things again!"

  "I... okay?" All this effort was being wasted on her, and she did not deserve it, not in the slightest. "I'm okay with the feeding port, though." More than okay with it, to be honest. She'd come to enjoy the meditative feeling of eating as a mechanical action totally removed from any kind of biological context. And it might have turned her on just a little.

  "I'm sure you are, petal, but eventually you are going to be coming out of that sarcotesta and you'll need to be able to provide healthy meals for yourself — which means we need to evaluate your ability to do so. Besides," she added, smiling, "I am told by reputable sources that oral contact is very important in Terran courtship rituals. Let's give Tara something nice and soft to smooch, hm?"

  Haven curled further in on herself, though there wasn't much farther she could go — she was already taking up a minimum of space as it was. No no no no no I don't deserve Tara I don't deserve food I don't deserve a mouth-

  Something pinged from several points around the table, and Thyrsiflora sighed. "There's that cortisol spike again."

  "Haven, little one, are you feeling anxious about the surgery?" More of Anix's vines coiled comfortingly around her, and it was all Haven could do to shrug. "I assure you, it'll be a very simple procedure with a minimum of recovery time. You won't miss any of your game dates, I promise."

  Haven clutched her knee in the palm of one hand — neither of which, she reminded herself, were really hers. Yet more effort wasted on her. They should have just left me in the freezer, they should have just left me in the freezer-

  "I'm going to suggest that I give her a microdose of tricosapeltaric acid," Thyrsiflora said.

  "That shouldn't have any adverse affects on the sarcotesta or the cambium ttice," Xanthisma said, "but no more than fifty micrograms, just to be safe."

  "That should be sufficient to level her out, I think." Before Haven could even react, she felt a port she'd never known was there open up in the sarcotesta's shoulder, and one of Thyrsiflora's vines was already plugging itself into it, injecting something into her right at the colrbone. "Now Haven, you may experience some side effects from this," she said, several extra eyes appearing from out of her foliage, all of them glimmering in shades of green and blue. "Visual disturbances are common, as is partial loss of fine motor control, but it's important for you to internalize the following: you are safe. No harm will come to you."

  Even as the vine withdraw, Haven could feel a difference. Something was crawling slowly through her body, and the lights in the room were flickering in a strange way, not in magnitude but in hue. "I...wh-what?" Her heart had never left its mechanical rhythm, but she could feel the tension in her mind scken just a little nevertheless. What did they give me? Oh stars this is it they're going to melt my brain. "I don't..."

  "Shhh. Calm, little one, calm." Anix stroked her gently - her head, her back, her hand. "Calm."

  "Tricosapeltaric acid is a rapid-onset, rapid-decay anxiolytic xenodrug," Thyrsiflora expined. "It's primary use is heading off panic attacks in terrans — or, as a recreational drug in spectrum jellies, which makes them make the funniest patterns with their bioluminescence," she added with a suppressed giggle. "In either case, it'll metabolize into harmless ethers and be flushed from your system very quickly, but with any luck it'll also pull you up out of this pit your fight-or-flight instinct has dug for you."

  Haven was feeling better, weirdly enough. The thoughts were still there, but they weren't digging into her brain like they had been — they were just thoughts. Thoughts about how awful she was, about what a waste of oxygen she was. I definitely don't deserve this. They should have just let her melt down so they could wipe her brain and turn her into a floret and then she wouldn't have to be her anymore. "I don't...think I needed-"

  "Hush," Anix said. "That was about as bad as I've ever seen your numbers get, petal. I really feel we can't get her out of this thing soon enough," she added in an aside to the others. "It's got to be at least part of what's affecting her mood."

  "Well, it's not nothing," Thyrsiflora said, "and physical recovery will likely help, but I'd wager it's more clock-shock than anything. Chronodispcement is a serious, multifaceted condition, and it's nothing to be taken lightly. Haven, you're going to be seeing me twice weekly, starting-" She gnced at Xanthisma. "Three days from now?"

  "Oh, she'll certainly be up and running around by then," Xanthisma said cheerfully.

  "And that won't conflict with her game schedule either," Anix said. "I want her to have as much Tara time as she can get."

  "I very much agree with that," Thyrsiflora said. "More contact, both with other chronodispcement survivors as well as chronolocals, will be a tremendous benefit. Anix, I highly suggest you graft tricosapeltaric acid, in case Haven has any repses."

  "I was already pnning on it after this little incident, but thank you for the advice nevertheless," Anix replied. "Now, there is one other thing I wanted to bring up before the committee, and especially to you, Xanthisma. In your opinion — and Phormia's, for that matter — do you think Haven's tissues have healed enough to enable the sarcotesta's sexual response pathways?"

  "Th-the what?" Haven squeaked.

  "Hmmmm." Xanthisma curled a vine in front of faer face and considered the question, faer floral face bending into a pronounced frown of concentration. "I should say that a limited response would be quite safe at this juncture. Obviously I would not suggest leaping headlong into any kind of physically strenuous mating activities."

  "I very much doubt this little cutie has any pns for that," Anix said, giving Haven a squeeze, "but I would like her to be able to properly appreciate what that suave little Tara is doing on a more physical level, especially if she's going to be able to reciprocate."

  "I'm with Anix," Thyrsiflora said, nodding. "The more we can do the enable the healthy retionship these two are building, the better for both of them."

  "Mmm, well, Haven?" Xanthisma said, tapping her with one of faer vines. "Go right ahead with that, then, but remember, nothing high-impact. If they want to leave marks on you, they're going to have to wait until we unwrap their present for them, alright?"

  "High...impact?" Something about the way Xanthisma said it — or maybe it was the way that faer outline was rippling, as if fae was a reflection in a pool of water that had been gently disturbed — left Haven feeling like she was floating. "I don't..."

  "I know, I know," Xanthisma said, patting Haven on the head. "It doesn't seem like your kind of thing, anyway. You're far too gentle a flower for that. But I'm doing my due diligence. No stress positions, no masochism, absolutely no striking of any kind."

  "For what it's worth, I very much doubt Tara is any more into that sort of thing than Haven is," Anix said. "But it's a good thing to keep in mind nevertheless, Haven. Just in case they're a little hungrier than we're giving them credit for." All the affini around the table chuckled.

  "Oh...kay...?" Her words seemed to come out in slow motion, as if something was pressing the pause button on her thought process whenever she tried to talk.

  "Fifty micrograms is definitely her limit for right now," Xanthisma said, tapping away at faer tablet. "The micromuscur effects seem to interfere with transmission in the neuromycelial bridge. Nothing dangerous, but that stutter's a clear sign. Thankfully, it's already beginning to break down in her system. Now, Haven, to bring this back to what caused your anxiety spike in the first pce — please rest assured that this is a very simple surgery with no significant risks associated with it. We'll be giving you a prosthetic jaw; within a week, you'll be able to chew solid food again, but we'll leave the feeding tube in for the meantime. Do you have any questions? Requests?"

  Haven tried to order her thoughts, but it was difficult the way the world seemed to be made out of getin. They were going to give her a new jaw? To chew with? That meant teeth. She was going to have teeth again, and presumably a tongue. Hard to swallow without one of those. "L-Lips?"

  Xanthisma chuckled. "Yes, petal, I'm sure Phormia and Xanthisma will make certain you have a very lovely pair of those. Well, I'm satisfied. Orchis?"

  "Mmmm." The masculine affini had been silent, observing the entire exchange carefully. "Yes, I think little Haven is on the right track. Anix, I think you're all doing a marvelous job with her, especially given the severity of her injuries and trauma. Xanthisma, you said you're ready to install the jaw prosthetic, and I don't see any reason to wait on that, so unless anyone else has anything further to add?" He waited for a moment, then nodded, his entire form rippling like someone had thrown a rock into his image in a pond and spshed it every which way. "Very well then. This meeting is concluded."

  "Anix, what do you say to sedating her here and now?" With the rippling and wobbling of the world, Xanthisma seemed to simply flow from faer seat across the table to Haven's side. "She seemed awfully anxious about the surgery, and after what she's been through I can't bme her."

  "Yes, I think that might be for the best," Anix said, stroking Haven's hair. "Little one, you're going to take a nap now, alright? I'll be right beside you when you wake up, I promise."

  Haven's brain finally found its way back to speech. "But I-" The port in her shoulder slipped open again, and another of Xanthisma's floral vines plugged itself in. Something cold began to flood her insides, working its way through her body. The rippling continued, the world shaking itself into droplets as she fell backwards into the darkness.