Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alice stared out the window. An infinite carpet of inky darkness, interrupted by tiny dots of light, like pinholes in a black sheet. She wondered, idly, if she were to reach up and press her finger into one of those holes, if she would feel the warmth of a better world on the other side. As if, perhaps, space itself was some kind of terrible box, designed to entomb and torture those unlucky enough to be born within its uncaring confines. These were not serious, literal thoughts, but the idle imaginings of a woman whose grasp on reality was slipping.

Hollow. She felt hollow. Empty. Her skin was numb to the touch. Around Alice, there were lights and sounds, but she did not register them. Even the words of a person standing right next to her were practically inaudible, as though she were underwater.

She ignored them.

Alice stared into her own reflection in the murky glass. She had black bags under her eyes. The cheap bleach job had already grown halfway out of her long, tangled black hair. Her skin was pale, yet also heavily pockmarked throughout. Beneath, a burn scar decorated her neck. Her left ear was missing a small slice.

She would never be beautiful. Alice couldn’t even feel sad about it. She was just so tired.

Her right side throbbed. She slowly, lazily gazed down at it, almost forgetting why. Beneath her sweaty, stained sports bra, Alice’s bare skin bore a large, purple bruise. Another one stung on her cheek. Feeling was returning to her and she didn’t like it. She wanted to stay numb forever. Alas, reality was merciless. It began to claw its way back into her brain, inch by inch.

Shouting. People were shouting.

Alice continued to sit and stare out into space. Where were they? She’d never bothered to actually figure that out for certain. Somewhere far from Terra. Very, very far. Alice barely remembered it. She was a child when she left and she never saw it again. Since then, she’d lived many places, never long enough to truly put down roots. Not until now, she supposed.

This mining colony had felt like home. Like family. At least, until… Alice refused to think about it. Not now. Rather, she could not think about it. She focused on what she could. Work. Friends. Were they friends, or only coworkers? If Alice ever quit, would any of them ever want to speak to her again? Perhaps at first, there would be a half-hearted effort, only to slowly fade into nothing. Despite knowing some of these miners for over a decade, Alice didn’t know their true character.

Over a decade… Fuck. Had it really been that long? Alice’s face paled at the thought. She wasn’t a young woman any more. Was she 33? 34? Alice supposed it was probably something like that, but the truth was, she didn’t even know any more. It isn’t as though they had the means, nor time, to celebrate birthdays out here. Not without missing a quota.

Where did my life go? She thought to herself.

To be fair, Alice knew she wasn’t old, per say. In fact, since getting on hormone replacement therapy, Alice had looked and felt younger by the day. She wished she’d done it ages ago. She wished she’d known it was even an option. But that train of thought wasn’t helping right now, so she discarded it.

“Alice.”

Her hearing was beginning to come back. Someone was trying to talk to her. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want anything to do with this.

“Alice, I… I get it, okay? But we need to know what to do with his things. A company rep is here to speak with you and-”

It was Keyla. A bit round around the middle, with a kindly expression, though Alice was never really so sure whose side Keyla was on. She seemed to flip flop between the emotional availability of an earnest friend, and her own special brand of passive aggressive self-interest, depending on the day. Even now, Alice couldn’t shake the feeling that Keyla’s maternal tone was a play at gaining some kind of social currency from this incident.

Alice couldn’t be picky right now. Though, she couldn’t really bring herself to speak at all.

“Hey. Alice.”

A male voice, just as soft. Everyone was being so soft with her right now. Handling her like she was fine china. A hand was on her shoulder. She didn’t want that right now. She didn’t like it. But she didn’t say anything.

It was Eddie, Keyla’s husband. Alice had attended their wedding in the mines, down on level K-3 where there wasn’t as much noise from the machines and where the mineral deposits glimmered a soft silver. They could afford such an occasion on account of Eddie’s standing. His family managed the mine, though its owners were living in luxury far, far away.

“You sit tight, okay? We’ll take care of what we can,” he said. Eddie was a kind man, though a bit meek. When it was up to him, anyway. He couldn’t stand his ground very well when Keyla decided she wanted her way, and she’d come between him and acts of generosity before. In this case, however, they both seemed to be in agreement.

“We’ll help you,” Keyla said, hugging Alice from behind. Again, something she did not ask for and did not appreciate. People just… Touched her. Why did people just touch her?

“... Thanks,” Alice managed to croak out, barely audible. Her voice was a pitch too low and she hated the way it sounded, even on a good day. And this was not a good day.

After that, they gave her more reassurances. Alice would have liked to say that it didn’t mean anything to her, but it did. She was too vulnerable, too raw, to keep herself closed off. Their words, while canned expressions of sympathy, really did make a small difference.

And then she was alone.

The metal door to her room was shut flush to its frame, though not yet sealed. It could only be sealed from the inside by rotating a thick, iron ring. Alice stared across the room at it. Her eyelids sagged heavily and her eyes were glassy. She dragged herself up off of the metal bench and over to the wheel, grasping it with shaky hands, and put her full weight into turning it one rotation.

Privacy.

Alice flopped onto the sleeping cot. At least she had her own room. Eddie had seen to that, after… Alice refused to think about what happened. Her ribs hurt. She laid down across the stiff fabric and flipped open a chunky metal laptop. The thing was heavy, ugly, and tethered to the walls with huge, awkward cables. It booted up loudly and clumsily. Pale, green letters decorated a black screen. 𝗪𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸, 𝗔𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗥𝗼𝘀𝗲𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗱. This awful device was her lifeline. Her purpose.

No good in the mines, Alice’s role on the station was to handle communications. She and another dozen poor fools who all thought, like she did, that it would be relatively easy money. Her reward was hellish hours for barely any pay and the constant looming threat of ‘Don’t like it? Grab a drill and get down there, then.’

Today, though... Today she’d been given a week off. One week off. Unpaid. Even the Terran Accord was a little considerate when it came to cases like hers. Rather, they’d likely run the numbers and found that providing abuse victims a few days to get their shit together resulted in marginally less employee suicides, which made it good for business. Any longer than that was out of the question.

With nothing to do, Alice just skimmed the internet idly. A hyperspace drone had updated their station’s network last week, so it was decently fresh. Doomscrolling might not have been the best use of her limited free time, but it wasn’t as though there was anything else to do in her tiny broom closet of a bedroom.

Another colony gone. Another warship gone. Nobody knew exactly where the battle lines were, but there was a creeping shadow of missing humans slowly spreading out from the edge of Terran space. The affini were making steady, uninterrupted progress in their crusade. She wondered what happened to those people? Were they dead? Slaves? Alice hadn’t even seen the affini propaganda, all the way out here. She knew next to nothing about them aside from the rate at which they’d expanded and the Terran Accord’s response to their aggressions. There was a war happening, somewhere. A war they were losing.

Alice couldn’t even bring herself to feel fear, right now.

With a sigh, she opened another window. The Terran overnet. To be specific, she’d connected to a much larger computer deep inside the station which was capable of such a thing. She required access to it in order to transmit data to their corporate headquarters. The connection was so slow that Alice could only send a few characters at a time. It was an excruciating, but necessary, process. She kept the feed open, in case they happened to reply, since receiving a response could also only be done by bits and pieces. That way, when Alice checked it, complete messages would be waiting for her.

Today, there was no such correspondence. At least, not from the company.

“... What?” Alice actually said out loud when she saw it. A message. It wasn’t addressed to anyone. Who would just broadcast a message across the Terran overnet without even having an intended recipient? That would be an obscene waste of time and resources. It intrigued her. Against her better judgment, Alice couldn’t help herself. She opened it.

Ｌｉｆｅ⠀ ‎ ｉｓ⠀ ‎ ｈａｒｄ，⠀ ‎ ｉｓｎ＇ｔ⠀ ‎ ｉｔ？

Alice just blinked in the dim light of the monitor. Who would send this and why? What was the point? Maybe… Could it be somebody like herself? Another servant to the merciless comms, miserable and despondent, just casting their thoughts out into the void? They could get fired for that.

She could get fired for responding.

… Alice started typing.

She couldn’t send much. She didn’t have that kind of time. Alice hoped she could get three letters through at once. It was pushing things, but maybe if she compressed it enough.

Ｙｅｐ

Well. That was pointless. Alice supposed she was also just screaming into the void, too. She sat up, wincing a bit and clutching her side, then stood slowly and made her way back to the bench by the window. She could almost see the edge of the ring. Mariposa Mining Station 821-019 was set in the side of an asteroid; it was one of many which formed a great ring around the gas giant Edapus. Sometimes, if she was lucky, she could see it clearly.

Tonight, she wasn’t lucky.

All that awaited Alice outside her small, round porthole was the unforgiving emptiness of space. How many lightyears away were those stars? Could one of them be Sol? She didn’t actually know. Maybe. If she sent a message home, how long would it take to arrive? Would anyone she knew be alive to receive it?

Of course, this was nothing more than idle daydreaming. To make such personal use of company property would be severely punished. She really shouldn’t have even sent that one word out, just moments ago. If anyone noticed, she could lose her job, which meant losing everything. Food, shelter, the clothes on her back. She couldn’t afford to get off this rock. Alice would die here without work.

She turned back to her laptop in a flash of paranoia, intending to obfuscate her frivolous message in some way so that it would be more difficult to discover who was responsible. However, when her eyes fell onto that dim screen, sitting open on her bed several feet away, she froze.

Alice’s eyes were wide as saucers, her mouth hanging slightly open. She felt a trembling in her limbs and a cold chill ran down her spine. Her throat seized and her skin tingled.

There was a reply.

That’s impossible, she thought. That is completely impossible. No Terran technology can do that. From the looks of it, the reply wasn’t all that short either. Much longer than hers. Transmitting something like that across the overnet should have taken hours, maybe even days, let alone receiving hers so quickly! Humanity can’t do this. We’re decades away from it, at least, Alice told herself. She was certain. She had to be hallucinating. Imagining things. Maybe… Maybe everything that had happened to her had… Broken something in her brain. Something important. Yet, as Alice approached, the hallucination did not disappear.

This can’t be real.

Even so, there it was. Not just any message, either, but a reply sent directly to her, and only her.

Ｍａｙｂｅ⠀ ‎ ｉｔ⠀ ‎ ｄｏｅｓｎ＇ｔ⠀ ‎ ｈａｖｅ⠀ ‎ ｔｏ⠀ ‎ ｂｅ．

Chapter Text

A hulking shape of tangled, black vines and sharp thorns skulked in the dark, blood red eyes transfixed on the bioluminescence of the plant-tech facsimile of a monitor. Around her, empty glass vials and jars shimmered in the pale light, their contents long consumed. The chamber was small and cramped, but it befit her needs. No distractions. No interruptions.

Atropa Belladonna did not like to be bothered.

And the many days she had spent cooped up in here were finally bearing fruit. Though the past seven hundred and fourteen attempts had been a failure, Atropa was certain that this time, this time she had done it. Now, for the test.

Ｌｉｆｅ⠀ ｉｓ⠀ ｈａｒｄ，⠀ ｉｓｎ＇ｔ⠀ ｉｔ？

A simple message. Something just to see if it works at all. If she’d finally developed the means to communicate with humanity’s pathetic excuse of an overnet with superior affini hardware. The difficulty here was not on their end, it was with the limitations of the recipient. Atropa could hardly believe that humans even called what they had ‘technology.’ It was closer to banging sticks and rocks together than anything she would ever use such a term to describe.

Come on, sticks and rocks. Receive this message.

Of course, she wouldn’t know unless someone replied. Maybe it had been working all along and the humans were just too wise to fall for such obvious bait? No. Not all of them. Atropa couldn’t entertain the notion that every single human with access to their overnet would all, collectively, have the sense to ignore any mysterious transmission. At least one of them would be stupid enough. Surely, most of them were stupid enough. Dumb, cute little things.

Stop it, Atropa told herself. Stop degrading them. They’re beloved sophonts - sentient beings! They deserve our grace and protection and… Alas, she could not police her own thoughts. They came whether Atropa liked it or not. Her superiority. How small, and incompetent, and adorable humans were. The way that they screamed at the sight of an affini, the way they cowered, begged for mercy. Her vines trembled. The delicious expressions they made when all hope was lost. The sound of their moans and cries. The crying! Oh, the crying. What a marvelous feat of evolution. To think that a species would actually leak saline and make such beautiful music when they were sad or in pain or…

Atropa took a deep breath to calm herself down. She’d gotten excited again.

This is why no human should ever be your floret, she reminded herself. Not ever.

A grim silence fell over Atropa in the wake of her rampant fantasies. The excitement had faded into a dull, aching guilt. Why am I like this? Affini were supposed to be the caretakers of the universe. She was supposed to feel compassion and love for all sophonts. And… She did! She did love them. But her love was so warped, it was so… Wrong. She was wrong. Even reblooming hadn’t helped. If anything, the thoughts were louder now! Why… Why why why why-

Ｙｅｐ

A reply. There was a reply!

Atropa couldn’t even bother to hate herself right now. Instead, she was overtaken by righteous achievement. Victory! She’d done it!

“Yes!” Atropa actually shouted with a predatory tone, her thorns oozing something toxic, before getting ahold of herself. Embarrassed, despite being alone, she smoothed over her vines with a hand and then slumped over her desk again like some kind of overgrown black kudzu.

Okay. It works. It works and a human replied.

She didn’t have time to think. She needed to keep this correspondence going. They probably didn’t expect anyone to receive their little message for days, but Atropa’s custom array had captured it near instantly. She could even pinpoint its location, though that was less pressing than the immediate concern of keeping this creature engaged.

Ｍａｙｂｅ⠀ ｉｔ⠀ ｄｏｅｓｎ＇ｔ⠀ ｈａｖｅ⠀ ｔｏ⠀ ｂｅ．

That should do it, Atropa thought to herself. After all, the human had agreed that life under the Terran Accord was difficult, even undesirable. She didn’t want to come on too strong, so she simply posited the possibility that there might be something better out there. She was hoping this would entice them enough to reply again. The more correspondence the better. Atropa needed all the data she could get out of this.

Naturally, if her discovery led to the rescue of these poor humans on the other end of the line, they would not go to her. Other affini, affini without these terrible impulses, would take them in. Atropa was fine with that. She’d made her peace with it a long time ago. Part of her motivation to develop this new technology was a sort of recompense for her internal failings.

She would never have a floret of her own and she was fine with it.

She was fine with it.

She was fine with it.

Atropa realized her grip on the desk had begun to dent the metal and buckle its legs. She quickly released it, sulking back against the wall behind her and staring at the ceiling.

“Sweet little things. Such fragile, soft creatures... They shouldn’t ever have to share a room with something like me.”

⠀

⠀

Alice couldn’t move. She was frozen, like some prey animal caught in a predator’s gaze, just standing there staring at the monitor. There it was. It couldn’t be, but it was.

Ｍａｙｂｅ⠀ ｉｔ⠀ ｄｏｅｓｎ＇ｔ⠀ ｈａｖｅ⠀ ｔｏ⠀ ｂｅ．

She wasn’t educated enough to understand precisely how the overnet worked or what the giant, room-spanning machine in the base of the station actually did to send and receive information across multiple solar systems. But Alice knew enough to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this speed and quantity of data was completely outside of human capabilities.

Who, or what, sent this message?

Her mind flashed to the war. The affini. She’d never paid too much attention to it. Mariposa was so remote that Alice had never seriously considered the possibility of the war directly affecting her life. Like many, she was too focused on her own problems to think of the bigger picture. One never expects such things to matter until they do.

Could this be the affini?

She wracked her brain for everything that she knew about them. They were an alien race, or species, she supposed. Plant-like, allegedly, and very large. Advanced. So advanced that they’d gained ground every single time Mariposa’s internet was updated with news of the front.

Is it possible that they could be capable of this?

Alice placed a hand on her sweaty forehead, smiling deliriously, eyes a bit wild. If they’re able to send a message like that, instantly, across this much distance… Then humanity doesn’t stand a chance. That puts them decades, maybe centuries ahead of us, she thought to herself.

She just started to laugh.

There was no humor in Alice’s laughter. It was a hollow, empty sort of sound, something cold and broken. If the affini are going to win no matter what, then none of it mattered. All those hours she’d worked. The days. The weeks. The years. Everything she’d been through. Everything that had happened to her. Humanity was all dead, anyway. Walking corpses.

Even him.

Her grin became manic. That’s right. He’s doomed too. That bastard.

Alice slumped against the wall and leaned her head back, shutting her eyes and just laughing. She wasn’t happy. It was a release of emotion. She needed to get all this pent up feeling out, somehow. As the minutes passed, her laughter dissolved into sobbing. She slid down the wall into a fetal position, hugging her knees to her chest and crying violently. She wailed and trembled, snot and tears running down her face and knees.

Some of her coworkers could hear it. None of them wanted the trouble. They left her mercifully alone.

Alice had no idea how long she cried. There was so much pain inside of her and it all came rushing out. Before she knew it, she was laying on the floor. The cold metal stuck to her cheek. It felt nice against the bruise. Her ribs were hurting again.

“So that’s it, huh?” Alice asked nobody.

And then, something clicked. Inside Alice’s brain, a piece slid into place. Things felt different now. If humanity was doomed, then that was that. There was nothing she could do about it. So why bother? Why bother with anything? None of it mattered. Nothing mattered.

Alice struggled to sit up. She felt so sore. Her face and neck were disgusting. She grabbed an oily rag off the banister and wiped herself down, then sat softly on the hard, uncomfortable bed.

Alice glanced idly at the screen.

The message was still there.

She sighed. Wow. Lucky me. The inevitable doom of my entire species wants to chat. You know what? Sure. Why not? After all, what did she have to lose? Her job? Alice chuckled darkly. Not like that was going to matter for too much longer. Whether she starved on this rock or got ripped apart by aliens, what difference did it really make any more?

Alice put her fingers over the keyboard, but she hesitated. After a beat, she swapped to the previous window. In the claustrophobic darkness of her tiny quarters, Alice opened the internet database, then typed in a search term.

𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶

Dozens of documents opened. Audio files. Video files. It was all new to her. She felt oddly fixated on the topic, now, even though it had never interested her before. Fixation was good, Alice reasoned. Anything to keep her mind focused and away from… Alice refused to follow that line of thought any further.

𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝗱𝗴𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗦𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗲

𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗦𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗔𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗻 𝗟𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗰𝘁

𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗺 𝘁𝗼 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗣𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗲

𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶 𝗗𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗮𝗹

𝗧𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗮𝗻 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗲

𝗡𝗲𝗴𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻

𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶 𝗗𝗲𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗪𝗮𝗿

Article after article. Alice opened each one, briefly skimming its contents. In the end, she only ended up more confused. There was so much misinformation and bias in these reports. They gave her little concrete understanding of what the affini actually wanted. To enslave humans? To conquer the galaxy? Something like that, she supposed.

Alice was already a slave to begin with. Albeit, the oligarchy was clever, and they had developed a sophisticated system to ensure that their wage slaves didn’t feel like slaves. But that’s what it was. At least, she’d always thought so.

She moved the cursor back to the overnet window. Her finger hovered over the key for a beat, then she opened it. There it is. This message could not have come from anywhere else. Alice swallowed. She couldn’t help but be nervous. Despite largely giving up on life, there was an instinctual fear at play. Something ancient. Self preservation pushed at the back of her skull, becoming louder by the second.

It would be better to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth, right? She’d read all the human accounts of what affini were and what they wanted, but why stop there? She had a direct line to one. This was her chance to at least find out what kind of lie they’re selling. It might even be the truth. Alice’s curiosity was getting the better of her.

Alice typed a single letter. Her breathing was getting heavy. She was sweating.

A second letter. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

The third letter. Alice just stared at it. If she sent this, there would be no going back.

The rabbit hole was right in front of her.

Crawl back to your old life, or jump in.

She hit enter.

Ｈｏｗ

⠀

⠀

Atropa felt a shiver run through her core. Her thorns tingled with elation, causing the black mass of her viney body to undulate and ripple disconcertingly. The sophont replied. Of course, due to the limitations of humanity’s pathetic technology, they could scarcely send three characters. Not even a question mark, though Atropa had little doubt that this was a question.

She propped her chin on a spiny tendril to think for a moment. How? How could life be less hard? Or how had she sent these messages? She supposed both of those questions could be what the human meant. Should Atropa answer them? Should she answer honestly?

Poison seeped from some of her larger spikes, a bad habit when she was focused or stressed. It pooled on the floor in steaming purple puddles. Even other affini were unsettled by Atropa’s appearance and mannerisms. She was everything that the most paranoid humans had ever dreamt up in their worst nightmares, and more. Genuinely terrifying. Like some kind of eldritch mass of writhing shadows, sharp and venomous and disturbing. This is why Atropa kept to her private ship. Her peers were too tactful to admit it, but she knew they didn’t care for her.

Finally, she’d reached a conclusion.

This human was clearly not happy, she’d admitted as much in her first reply. Atropa wasn’t surprised about that, human culture was basically designed to produce suffering. In fact, if she tried, Atropa doubted she could concoct a more insidious and efficient mechanism for producing human misery than what humans called their own economic and political system. It was brilliant, if deranged. She almost had a twisted appreciation for its shameless malice.

If her new pen pal was reaching out from a place of desperation and despair, she didn’t really need to answer the human’s question. Rather, all she truly had to do was throw them a lifeline. Open the door, so to speak. And in the meantime, she could continue to run diagnostics on the communications feed for her presentation to the others.

Ｉ⠀ ｃａｎ⠀ ｈｅｌｐ⠀ ｙｏｕ．

That should do it. Atropa snickered to herself. She knew, logically, that her goal was to help this human. To help all humans. That this was an act of benevolence and rescue. Yet, Atropa couldn’t help but enjoy the chase, just a little. She took a sort of smug glee in the act of leading this lower lifeform along and playing with its inferior brain. Like a predator pursuing and cornering prey. Her mind briefly wandered to what this human might look like. How they were probably cowering at the realization that an affini was speaking with them. Their pale face and wide eyes and that adorable way they would shiver and shake.

A pang of guilt. Right, I shouldn’t be thinking those things.

⠀

⠀

Alice furrowed her brow. What an obvious trap. Help her? Like they helped all those colonies that went dark? Sure. It sounded to her like the kind of help she could devise for herself with a strong rope and somewhere to hang it. No thanks.

But then, what if it was earnest? She didn’t actually know what happened to the people who were taken. Domestication? Slavery, basically. That’s slavery. Well, this station is slavery too. Maybe the affini’s slavery was better? Uhg. Alice sighed and rested her forehead on a lumpy, hard pillow.

This was insane. If anyone ever found out she was sitting there, just talking to an affini on her laptop, she’d be shot in the head for treason.

She looked at it again.

Ｉ⠀ ｃａｎ⠀ ｈｅｌｐ⠀ ｙｏｕ．

‘We’ll help you,’ Alice heard Keyla’s voice in her head. She couldn’t help but chuckle darkly. Everyone pitied her, even the fucking alien overlords. What a day.

“Well… In for a penny, in for a pound,” Alice whispered to herself as she began to type.

⠀

⠀

Atropa was passing the time with a simple trace. It was child’s play for her to pinpoint the location of her new friend. She compared the coordinates to a starmap projected on the adjacent wall and whistled. What a remote system. This poor thing was stranded in the middle of nowhere. Edapus. No, that’s a gas giant, it can’t be. Ah, one of the asteroids in its ring. Why would they be there? Humans were so strange. Could it be to gather resources? Atropa knew that they liked to take some of the most unfortunate members of their ‘society’ and toss them into hellish places just to collect a few rocks.

With a stray vine, Atropa caressed a flower bulb, coaxing it into unfurling and projecting something new onto the opposite surface with its bioluminescence. Their archive of the Terran internet. At least, a collection of all the data they’d absorbed from the networks of every colony and ship the affini had conquered.

She idly navigated the database until Atropa found it. Mariposa Company had mining stations all over this ring, or they used to. As the ore veins ran dry, workers were either relocated or, to Atropa’s horrified disbelief, simply abandoned and left to starve. They call this insanity governance? Only one station remained in operation. Mariposa Mining Station 821-019.

“There you are, little thing,” Atropa cooed, sounding way more sinister than she meant to.

ＯＫ

Atropa blinked. She glanced at the central display. A reply. Just two letters, but they said a lot. Her new toy was willing to play. Sophont. Not a toy. Valued sentient lifeform. Come on, Atropa. Stop it.

She tried to concentrate. Atropa had all the information she needed to mount a full scale rescue of these poor souls. Rather, she had enough data to share with her peers so that they could go help these humans. Atropa didn’t really like to leave this room, let alone her hab. Her fulfillment was here, with her beloved displays. All the information and entertainment in the Affini Compact, right at her fingertips. Direct communication with anyone she might want to talk to, all from the comfort of her home. Why would she want to leave? Especially to wade through some filthy human mine.

Besides that, if she were surrounded by the adorable, screaming little things, Atropa didn’t trust herself enough not to hurt one.

With a dejected sigh, Atropa began to type a question. Her peers would want to know how many humans were on this rock so that they could accurately judge the scale of the operation. Might as well ask.

Ｈｏｗ⠀ ｍａｎｙ⠀ ｈｕｍａｎｓ⠀ ａｒｅ⠀ ｌｉｖｉｎｇ⠀ ｉｎ⠀ Ｓｔａｔｉｏｎ⠀ ８２１－０１９？

⠀

⠀

Alice almost screamed. Sure, she’d more or less accepted that humanity was doomed. But still, there was a difference between that sort of detached, indirect surrender and this. The affini knew exactly where she was. She swallowed hard, trying to push down the flight response and get ahold of herself. You knew what you were doing. You knew this is where it would lead. Calm down.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Alice’s heart rate slowed and she physically felt herself coming back down to reality. This is fine. Alice slapped her cheeks with her hands. Anything is better than this fucking place.

She opened the network and checked the employee and family roster. Then Alice sucked in a big gulp of air and held it, typing the number. This was treason. She was a traitor.

５７

Alice held her breath. What had happened to her, that she would be willing to go this far? What would the others think if they ever found out? Names and faces began to run through Alice’s mind. Conversations over coffee. Laughter at dinner. Watching the latest broadcast when a hyperspace drone came through to update their network. Board game night at Eddie’s.

What had she done?

Then, that thing in her brain kicked in. The new passenger. The voice that told Alice: It doesn’t matter. Nobody matters. You don’t matter. They don’t matter. We’re all dust, anyway. She could feel the tension leaving her shoulders as merciful, kind apathy washed across her thoughts. She glanced at the window and let the vast, empty expanse of space comfort her. We’re nothing.

Alice was tired. Today had already been emotionally draining enough before all this. Her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. She’d laughed. She’d cried. She had felt deep terror. And she’d felt hope. A glimmer of hope that maybe, if things changed, they might change for the better. Rather, there was a growing resentment and determination inside her. Things had to change. They had to.

As she laid her head on the pillow. Her body felt heavy. It would be strange, sleeping alone in an unfamiliar room. This hadn’t been her quarters until today. Last night, she’d gone to sleep in the top bunk of a room shared with… Him. Alice shut her eyes. She felt such a complicated mix of emotions. Relief to have escaped, yet also, somehow, remorse. Alice was terrified that she’d made a mistake. That now she would be alone forever. That no one would ever love her again. That he was right about her. In fact, she’d all but accepted it. Would a woman with any hope for the future have answered that message?

And yet, why drag the whole station down with her? If Alice wanted it to end, why didn’t she just put a plasma rifle in her mouth and pull the trigger? The answer, she surmised, was that she was a coward. Alice was a coward who would rather bring doom to her home, to all the people who’d loved and supported her, than take matters into her own hands.

However, that was not the real reason. She wasn’t ready to accept it, but the truth was, deep down inside, Alice wanted to be saved. She wanted something, anything, to happen. She dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, this affini creature actually would rescue her.

Stupid. Childish. How could a grown woman lay there and wish for something so immature as to be magically spirited away from her life? It was pure fantasy. Maybe she’d never really gotten a chance to grow up.

And yet, try as she might to deny it, Alice did want that. She wanted it so badly, in fact, that when the last message came through, she didn’t even feel fear. Alice observed the words from where she lay, eyelids half closed, mouth slightly agape.

Ｓｅｅ⠀ ｙｏｕ⠀ ｓｏｏｎ．

A soft blush ran up over her cheeks and she shut her eyes with a sad smile. As if. Alice sleepily closed the overnet window, then rolled over and let darkness take her.

Chapter Text

Ｓｅｅ⠀ ｙｏｕ⠀ ｓｏｏｎ．

Of course, Atropa didn’t mean that personally. She wouldn’t be going anywhere near that rock. But she did intend to rescue this human. All 57 of them. …In her own way.

Atropa inserted her limb inside of the plant-tech machine and twisted it to the left 90 degrees. The organic computer made a soft squelching sound and then hummed as it connected to the affini overnet. Light unfolded around Atropa, enveloping her in an array of affini script inside concentric circles and connecting lines. The projection spanned the room, running up over the walls and ceiling. She extracted her arm and began to make selections.

𝒰𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝒾𝓉.

These words, though written in native affini, seared themselves into the luminous display before dispersing. They arrived near instantaneously on matching devices all over the quadrant of systems where Atropa was stationed, alerting a variety of her peers and superiors.

It took time for all of them to assemble. Eventually, though, Atropa would be surrounded by the life-like holograms of her own kind. Many of them seemed tired or overworked, and none were excited to be here.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Genista. A thick, voluptuous pillar of lavender colored vines decorated by small, delicate flowers. Her tone was exasperated. She slumped over from the weight of all her tasks, many of which had been unceremoniously put on hold in order to humor Atropa’s request.

“We’re very busy, Belladonna,” Nerine admitted with a voice that was at once both sympathetic and frustrated. A thin, spindly figure of bark and dry leaves, she looked even more overworked than the rest of them. Atropa winced. She’d expressed a desire to be called Atropa in the past, but her peers were too preoccupied to break old habits.

“I’ve done it,” Atropa declared with a bit less enthusiasm than she’d hoped. The atmosphere in the room was oppressive and she already felt uncomfortable. “I've cracked the Terran overnet. I was able to send and receive multiple messages. I’ve found a human settlement using this method. A mining station, to be precise. 57 sophonts are-”

“You contacted them?” Nerine asked, looking alarmed.

“Dirt and roots, Belladonna. Please tell me you didn’t give away your identity to this human.” That deep, angry voice could only belong to Hellebore. A massive oaken figure built like a work of art, covered in old gashes and scars that they’d yet to rebloom and heal. A security expert and ex-feralist hunter who’d helped bring no less than three sophont species into line during their service. They'd had no such excitement during the human domestication campaign, at least not yet, but Hellebore remained highly cautious nonetheless.

“Not explicitly, though I imagine they’ve put it together,” Atropa admitted, her voice getting low and quiet. “But we can just save them. I have their coordinates, we’ll just-”

“Do you have any idea how many planets, how many systems, we’re juggling at one time right now?” Hellebore asked with a cold, tempered rage. “We don’t have time to fly halfway across the galaxy to some remote location, deep inside enemy territory.”

“And now that they think affini are coming for them, the humans will erupt into chaos,” Genista said frantically, holding her face with both hands. “The human you contacted could be killed for turning traitor! Some of them might even self-destruct out of terror.”

“There’s a reason we take them by surprise,” Nerine said tiredly, rubbing the equivalent to temples on her head. “Belladonna-”

“Atropa,” she corrected her.

“... Atropa. Sweetheart. This isn’t good,” Nerine continued after a pause.

Atropa’s body was undulating, irritated, like an angry pile of black licorice. Her thorns were leaking violet death. She could not hide her frustration. Not just at them, but at herself. What she’d expected to be her crowning moment of glory had turned to dirt in seconds. The other affini largely hid their disgust, but a few couldn’t help but show how they didn’t really care much for just how creepy Atropa was, especially when she got agitated.

She was like a monster among beautiful maidens. For every soft, smooth curve among the holograms, Atropa matched it with sharp, jagged edges. Her voice had a toxic, sinister quality to it, even when she meant well. Try as she might, she could not rearrange her face into something that wasn’t scary to look at. Her pitch black coloring gave her the unsettling appearance of a predator’s silhouette in the dark.

And she knew they looked down on her for it. She knew they thought she was some kind of mistake. That affini should never be this frightening, this monstrous. No one would ever say it. Never. It would be an unspeakable faux pas in their culture to judge anyone for how they look or sound. But Atropa could tell that they did. She could tell.

“You have to manage this,” Hellebore stated flatly.

“What do you mean, manage this?” Atropa asked tensely.

“None of us have the time. You’ve put sophont lives at risk. You will fly to that system, dock your hab, and monitor them to ensure that no human gets hurt.”

Atropa was speechless. She stared for a long moment, just taking it in. They expected her to go babysit 57 humans while still fulfilling all of her other responsibilities?

“You think I have time for that?!”

“You made this bed, as the humans say,” Genista said. The rest of the affini nodded in agreement.

“What do I even do if they do go crazy and start killing each other or themselves? I’m not a field operative. I don’t even have pharmaceuticals in this hab.” Well, maybe a couple, but definitely not enough to subdue a whole colony. “I’m not trained in xenodrug administration or human physiology or-”

“Just use your natural-” Nerine started to say, but then fell silent as she remembered. As they all remembered. Atropa was poisonous. Almost anything grafted onto her wilted and decayed black. Her pollination was toxic to any lifeform. The problem was with her core. The affini’s best had tried and failed to fix her. Now they were all looking at her with such sadness, like she was defective. Like she needed their pity.

“You’ll figure something out,” Hellebore said, cutting the awkward silence.

Atropa hated this feeling. The feeling of helplessness. Of being powerless. The authority of the masses, of those older and more experienced than her, came crushing down. It made her feel small. It made her feel like she didn’t get a say. There was nothing that she hated more than this. She knew they all looked down on her. She knew in her core that they didn’t see her as an equal. She was seething.

“Bel- …Atropa,” Genista tried to say with a maternal and comforting tone. It sounded so fake to Atropa. So forced. She didn’t want it, anyway. The very last thing she needed was to be coddled and condescended to.

“Very well,” Atropa replied with as little emotion as she could muster, trying not to give them the satisfaction.

She cut the feed.

Atropa sat in silent darkness for a long moment, coiling like a spring. Then, all at once, she lashed out, smashing against the walls and floor, piercing and ripping and slapping and whipping and letting out all of her pent up frustration in a flurry of violence and rage. When she was finished, the chamber was leaking fluids from multiple gashes and pierced holes. Entire machines had been rendered inoperable until she repaired them. She was covered in blue and green and orange fluid from the vandalized equipment. It pooled at her roots and mixed with her venom, hissing quietly.

“It’s cool,” Atropa said shortly.

⠀

⠀

Alice sipped her coffee, holding the mug with both hands. It was terrible. The instant powder they used was way past its expiration date, but technically not too dangerous. The sweetener was even worse. She didn’t dare imagine what it was actually made out of. Definitely not sugar. Without it, the coffee was completely undrinkable. And yet, the aftertaste and tacky sensation in her mouth which that sickly sweet chemical left behind almost made her want to chug the whole thing at once.

“Alice? … Alice?”

Alice snapped out of it and realized that she had been just staring into her cup for a long time, not saying a word. She came back into reality just in time to glance up and see Keyla, sitting down to eat breakfast. Her meal didn’t look any more appetizing than the coffee.

“We… We’ve stalled as long as we can, Alice. …Eddie is with Mr. Cooper now. He’s from the company. He really needs to talk to you.”

Keyla had stalled as long as she felt like it, Alice concluded to herself. Keyla had reached her quota of benevolence and now she was done with her. Fair enough, Alice supposed. She couldn’t very well expect everyone to put her first. Or anyone to put her first. Ever.

“Alice. Alice, I’m losing you.”

Keyla tapped a finger on the table in front of Alice’s face, bringing her glassy eyes back into focus.

“... Sorry.” Alice said quietly.

“It’s fine, hon. Just… Just maybe fix your hair? Mr. Cooper will be here any moment.”

What’s wrong with my hair? Alice didn’t say it. She just stared blankly back at the woman.

The door slid open behind Keyla. There stood two men. One was a bit skinny and on the shorter side with a buzz cut that really didn’t look quite right on him, glancing anxiously at the floor. Eddie. The other was different. Tailored suit and slick back hair. Piercing eyes. Alice let out an exhausted sigh. She really didn’t want to have to deal with the company right now.

“Alice, this is Mr. Cooper,” Eddie explained, pointlessly.

“A pleasure,” Cooper said, voice devoid of anything resembling pleasure.

“Morning,” Alice replied begrudgingly with a monotone.

Keyla and Eddie retreated to the opposite end of the break room to give them some space. She spoke to Eddie quietly. Alice eyed them with suspicion. What was she saying to him? Alice couldn’t help her paranoia. They were definitely talking about her and it was so hard not to worry about it.

But who cares? Alice thought, and it actually helped to alleviate her anxiety. If she dared to believe that she hadn’t imagined her correspondence last night, then none of this mattered at all. Or it wouldn’t matter for much longer, anyway.

“Lewis-” Cooper began.

“Alice,” she corrected him.

He blinked. Cooper glanced down at his papers and flipped through them a bit. How could the company still have her deadname on file? Alice rolled her eyes. Incompetency didn’t account for this. They just didn’t give a shit about her.

“Ah, right. Apologies, Alice.” He didn’t sound sorry. “In any case, I am here to speak with you about your recent dispute with your husband-”

“Ex-husband.”

“As I understand it, you’ve just recently separated. I’m afraid that you must remain separate for one year before we can officiate a divorce, the cost of which will be deducted from-”

“Sure,” Alice interrupted him, propping her arm on the table and supporting her head with one hand. The black bags under her eyes had gotten worse and her eyelids sagged with the weight of sleep loss.

Cooper cleared his throat.

“As I was saying. You had a dispute with Gabriel Daley, is that correct?”

Alice grabbed the bottom edge of her stained tank top and lifted it up over her head. She stood slowly, placing the crumpled garment on the table and facing Cooper, stone faced. Her body was covered in bruises. Her sports bra, the same she wore yesterday, bore bloodstains.

“... I see,” he replied tersely, taking notes. “And did you happen to upset him in some way?”

Alice’s eye twitched. She sat back down hard, not bothering to put the top back on.

“Apparently,” she replied with venom.

“Well, Alice. You have my sympathies,” she doubted that, “but I’m afraid that this whole incident isn’t really in the company’s best interest. Gabriel is a hard worker. A loss in his stellar productivity would-”

“I never want to see him again,” Alice stated firmly.

Silence followed. It was tense. She couldn’t tell what Cooper was thinking.

“Perhaps marriage counseling?”

Alice chuckled darkly. She stared into her coffee mug.

“Docked from my pay too?”

“Well, you are the one who lodged an official complaint.”

She grinned. Cooper raised an eyebrow, not sure where this was coming from. Alice just leaned back in her chair and smiled at the ceiling with her eyes shut. You’re all going to get what’s coming to you, she thought smugly. None of this matters. Not your company. Not your shitty policies. Not my goddamn name being wrong on your fucking paperwork.

“... Moving on, I understand you will no longer be dwelling with your husband-” Alice winced “-in the immediate future? I’ll leave it to your supervisor to sort that out.”

She remained silent.

“There is also the matter of your login credentials on the network. I see you’ve updated them to Alice Rosewood?”

Alice stared at him expectantly until he continued.

“While I do have a record of your first name being updated with our office-”

“I would hope so,” Alice retorted. It was years ago.

Cooper ignored the remark. “Rosewood is your maiden name, yes?”

Alice didn’t reply.

“Legally speaking, you aren’t divorced until-”

“I’m not changing it.”

“I would be forced to file an official reprimand on your permanent rec-”

“I’m not changing it.”

Cooper adjusted his tie.

“Very well. Thank you. Have a nice day.”

He stood and walked across the room to Eddie. They briefly exchanged words and then the company man took his leave.

Alice just felt numb. She was laying on her hand, face squished slightly, staring out the window at the stars with a vacant expression. Eddie and Keyla approached softly, delicately, as though she were some fragile thing.

“Hey Alice,” Eddie started, timidly. “About that room you’re in.”

“You said I could use it,” Alice replied quietly.

Eddie and Keyla looked at each other.

“Yes,” Eddie replied, “But you see, something came up and-”

Alice just stopped listening. Keyla wants the room for something. That’s how it always was. She just shut her brain off and focused on the stars. The vastness of space. Somewhere out there, something spoke to her. Something more than human. Would she meet it? Whether it killed her or kept her, in that moment, Alice thought to herself: either way is fine.

Anything was better than this.

“-so that’s why. I’m really sorry. You can sleep there tonight, then we can set you up with another bunkmate. It, uh, will have to be a man. The station is 90% men, as you know,” Eddie sounded so sorry.

He probably really was. But he was also weak. Too weak to say no to Keyla. Too weak to stand up for his values. And that made his values worthless. Alice was so tired of cruel people who hid behind a guise of kindness, but she was even more exhausted of spineless cowards who claimed to help, but weren’t willing to face even the slightest conflict to do so.

I’m so sick of humans.

“Whatever,” Alice replied.

Keyla looked offended at her tone, while Eddie just seemed to become guiltier. Not guilty enough to actually do anything about it, of course.

“Are we done?” Alice asked flatly.

“Oh, um, yes I think that-” Eddie started to say, but trailed off when Alice stood and walked past him.

She dragged herself down the hallway dejectedly, hanging her head. That hollow feeling had returned in force. She couldn’t even feel the cold metal against her hand as she slid it along the wall. Voices sounded like noise and lights were blurring in her vision.

Before Alice knew it, she was back in her room. Well, the room. She collapsed onto the bed, face down, and let her legs hang off the opposite end.

“Fuck.”

⠀

⠀

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Alice woke up with a start and blinked deliriously. What…? She reached out in the dark and fumbled around, finding the edge of her laptop. She lifted the screen, blinding herself with its dim light. The beeping didn’t cease. Now, a blinking icon in the corner of the monitor matched its rhythm. Alice struggled to slide the cursor over onto it, clicking on what she assumed had to be a notification of some kind. It expanded as her vision cleared and focused.

𝗜𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 [ 𝗨𝗻𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗡𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 ] [ 𝗔𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗼 ]

𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁? 𝗬 / 𝗡

This felt familiar. Last night, when she’d received that message, she’d been faced with a similar choice. The kind of decision that made Alice’s heart beat faster and her skin tingle. Something between fear and excitement. An emotion she didn’t have a word for.

If it was the affini hailing her, then it was close. At least inside the system. Close enough to use the station internet for a direct call. Close enough to be on their doorstep at a moments’ notice. Alice shot a paranoid glance out the window, panic creeping up her spine. Nothing. Nothing but space. She looked back at the screen. This was real. It was a bit too real.

Her finger trembled over the keyboard. Her self preservation instincts screamed in the back of her ears, but something else spoke louder. A voice that said ‘Something has to change.’

“Something has to change,” Alice said out loud with a shaky voice, steeling her resolve.

She accepted the call.

At first, her laptop emitted only static. A low hum, like an old radio, crackling in the dead of night. Then, a voice. An androgynous voice. Deep. Low. Quiet. It had a sinister, malevolent quality to it. Dangerous. Like the voice of a predator. It was synthetic, but also organic, nothing mechanical about it. An imitation of human speech. The sound sent shivers down Alice’s back and made her hair stiffen and eyes lock wide open. It made her sense of touch more sensitive; suddenly, the texture of her clothing and the bed against her skin were distracting. It made her sweat and gasp for air. It was the kind of voice that would make anyone feel like prey. Every bit as malicious and hungry as it was playful.

“Hello, little thing.”

Chapter Text

Alice wasn’t breathing. When she realized that, she quickly sucked in air, gasping. How long had it been that she’d sat there, frozen solid? Her lungs burned. It was as though that voice coming out of her laptop had sucked the air and heat out of her body. There was a strange rhythm to it. A cadence that wobbled in her ear drums and made her brain feel fuzzy.

“Still with me, little one?” Atropa asked smugly, grinning a wide, crescent shaped grin of gleaming silver thorns as she lounged casually in her hab. Though she wasn’t thrilled to be here, the opportunity to tease and play with a human was a very nice bonus. Atropa couldn’t help herself. They were just so cute, especially when they were scared.

Radio silence. Atropa balanced her chin on a black tendril, glancing out the adjacent window at the ring of Edapus. Somewhere in those thousands of asteroids, a poor, helpless sophont was transfixed by her voice. Terrified, probably. It was another reason that Atropa really wasn’t cut out to be a pet owner.

While all affini were naturally hypnotic to a degree, most had a comforting presence which naturally calmed sophonts down and made them more suggestible. Something rhythmic about their circulation, movements, and intonation. Atropa’s biorhythm, however, was asynchronous and wrong. It was unpleasant and unsettling. Like the rest of her, there was something defective about it. Instead of bringing peace to sophonts, it instilled a deep and instinctual tension. It was still effective - in fact, Atropa’s voice was uniquely potent even for an affini - but the natural response to hearing her was always fight or flight.

“Deep breaths, human. You’re safe,” Atropa cooed, her tone more demeaning and mischievous than she intended.

Alice did not find this reassuring. She’d never heard something scarier in her life. It was mesmerizing. She was transfixed like a deer in headlights. She tried to speak but her throat clenched up. Pushing air through the constricted passageway, Alice only managed to produce some small, high pitched squeaks.

Atropa almost melted right then and there. That was so adorable! She couldn’t believe how cute humans were, especially this one. It took her a moment to regain her composure. This wasn’t a pleasure call, she reminded herself.

“How about we start with proper introductions,” Atropa suggested, trying to drag Alice out of her paralysis. “You may call me Atropa. For now.“ She really wanted this little cutie to call her something else, but now wasn’t the time for that. There would never be a time for that, Atropa concluded with a tinge of resignation. “I represent the Affini Compact.“ Atropa tried to remember the rest of the canned elevator pitch, but couldn't quite place it. Something about bringing all sophonts into their loving embrace? She never had to do this.

“... A… …Al.. ..l..” Alice was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering. “A… Ali… Alice!” She finally managed to force out, with great effort.

“Oh, very good girl,” Atropa purred.

Alice’s heart skipped a beat. A blush ran up over her face and she quickly covered her mouth with both hands to muffle the heavy breathing. What the fuck was that? Hearing Atropa speak those words, even over comms, had been a full body sensation for her. Alice’s skin was tingling all over. She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure that she even could speak.

“Well, Alice, I’m simply checking up on you. Can you answer a few questions for me, sweet thing?”

“.. Y.. Yes..”

Atropa sighed. The effect she had on humans was a bit inconvenient for this. The girl could barely talk. She would get used to it eventually, Atropa thought. She hoped so, anyway.

“Very good. Now. You will tell me whether or not the other humans have discovered our correspondence.”

“T-The.. They ha… haven’t…”

Atropa smiled that silver, cheshire grin of hers, where instead of teeth, rows of razor sharp thorns sparkled like white diamonds in the pitch black abyss of her body. Alice was adapting quickly. That was two whole words! Not to mention just how obedient the girl was. Atropa had to restrain herself from getting too attached. This little thing was making her yearn for a floret of her own; thoughts that she’d long since buried. She clenched her vines and then relaxed. Focus on the task at hand.

“Now, you will describe the state of your physical and mental wellbeing.” Atropa stated each command as though it were a simple fact that Alice would comply. She opened her digital notes and prepared to transcribe the human’s answer in affini text.

“I… I’m.. uh…”

You can do it, Atropa thought, daring not speak again and subject Alice to another dose of her voice.

“I’m.. I’m s.. Safe.. I guess…”

Atropa furrowed her equivalent to a brow. That wasn’t especially convincing.

“B.. But.. I.. I…”

Alice couldn’t believe she was answering this question. She couldn’t understand why, but she felt compelled to respond honestly and fully, despite the way her throat seized and her body trembled. Somewhere deep in her brain, she understood that that voice belonged to something that was superior to her in every way. That she was like an insect in the palm of this being’s hand. Though she’d yet to even see Atropa, something about the way she spoke, the tone, the rhythm, the intonation… Alice could not decipher what was being done to her, but something was being done. This felt compulsive. Induced. She didn’t feel as though there were any choice but to reply. If she didn’t, Alice had the overwhelming sensation that refusing would be lethal. She had no reason to think so, but she felt it.

Of course, it was just a feeling. It wasn’t as though Atropa’s biorhythmic speech could actually physically harm Alice. But the feeling of danger was very real.

“I’m… S.. Sad? I.. I think?”

Atropa nodded, still remaining silent while Alice recovered. She was regaining her speech, which was necessary for there to be any point in this. The last thing Atropa wanted to do was sabotage that for her.

“... No… Not sad. …Empty. Hollow? …I just don’t know what to do any more. I guess, I never planned this far ahead. …I didn’t expect to still be alive, I suppose. I’m… I’m tired, I think. Tired all the time. I don’t feel like anyone really cares about me. I hate my job. I hate my voice. My body… Everything is wrong. They all wish I was still Lewis. I know they do, I can see it in their eyes. They want me to be someone I’m not. …I hate it here. I hate it. I don’t want to be here any more.”

Alice had never said these things to anyone. Not once in her life. She was pouring her heart out to this creature, this monster from beyond the stars. Atropa’s hypnotic voice had dragged the ugly truth out of Alice like unclogging a drain. And once Alice started, she couldn’t stop.

“My body hurts… I’m covered in bruises… I can still feel it. I can feel him hurting me. And I hate that. I hate being reminded of him… I hate it so much. I just want people to stop talking about that bastard… We used to have something. I thought we did. But maybe, I was just desperate to be in love? I don’t think I ever really paid attention to the signs.”

Alice was crying and shaking, clutching herself so tightly that her arms stung. Atropa almost interjected but managed to stop herself at the last second. She needed to let Alice speak, even though the flood of information was almost too much to follow.

“I ignored every red flag because I just wanted to belong to someone. Does that make this my fault? Are the last six years I wasted managing that gaslighting, guilt tripping piece of shit’s emotions and taking his outbursts all because of my own stupidity? Did I deserve it? ..Did.. Did I…”

Alice couldn’t talk any more, though this time for her own reasons. She was sobbing so uncontrollably that her words had been drowned out completely. Alice was hunched over, shaking violently, tears soaking her chest and thighs. Heaving and gasping. Wailing.

Atropa stiffened at the sound. She wished that she didn’t like it as much as she did. By the Everbloom! Humans made such incredible noises when they were in anguish. She could listen to this all day. It excited her in ways she didn’t want to acknowledge. And for a long moment, perhaps a bit too long, Atropa simply listened to Alice cry and enjoyed the music of it.

These were disturbing revelations, though. Atropa reviewed her notes to the beautiful sound of Alice’s lamentations. This sophont was in critical danger of self destruction. It seemed that she had been badly abused and, worst of all, blamed herself for letting it happen. Atropa groaned. This entire situation was way more complicated than she’d anticipated nor wanted to deal with. She had been hoping, dearly, that Alice would have simply confirmed that she was physically well and of sound mind. Not… All of this.

Atropa was, first and foremost, a programmer and data analyst. Her place was with computers, not sophonts. A recreational interest in xenopsychology aside, Atropa hadn’t been trained in the handling and care of humans. She wasn’t overly familiar with their physical or emotional needs. And she definitely was not prepared for this situation.

For a moment, Atropa considered offering to rip the offending man’s head off. This kind of intrusive thought was the sort that she hated the most. Immediately, Atropa felt guilty for even allowing that into her mind. The primary motivating directive of all affini was to preserve sophont life, by any means necessary. All of her peers felt this way with burning conviction. The fact that Atropa was so much less concerned with rescuing every single little creature, no matter how deplorable or nasty they were, was a defect. She was defective.

Meanwhile, Alice had cried herself hoarse and was now sitting in an awkward and uncomfortable silence. She’d just dumped her trauma on a super advanced, potentially evil space alien. Admittedly, Atropa had all but forced her to, though Alice didn’t know anything about affini or how they functioned, so she felt responsible for venting. Cold sorrow was slowly being replaced by red hot embarrassment. Alice buried her face in the pillow, humiliated. This was their first contact?

“Do you really want to leave that place?” Atropa’s sinister, spellbinding voice finally asked, sending fresh shivers down Alice’s spine.

She had to think about that. What it really meant. If she said yes, was she signing up for slavery or execution? She still wasn’t completely certain what the affini’s intentions were. Especially this affini. Atropa sounded, well, terrifying. Alice had never heard a more evil sound than the tone of this plant’s voice. Poisonous. That’s how she sounded.

Then again, what else was there for her, here? Alice turned her head to the side so that she could stare out the window. The ring was visible. Finally, their asteroid had rotated just enough that Alice could see it. Lines of dazzling blue and orange and silver, sparkling like an endless road of gemstones, stretching off into the distance where it vanished around the side of Edapus’s pale violet body. The view was breathtaking. Space was so vast and so beautiful, and Alice was so, so small. This station. These people. All of humanity was just a tiny grain of sand in the cruel, uncaring scale of the universe.

In that moment, apathy overtook fear. Alice stared blankly, glassy eyed, at the floor as she spoke in a quiet monotone.

“Yeah.”

Atropa muted the feed so that she could audibly sigh. This human was practically begging to be a floret, but her vines were tied! The poor thing needed to be saved and taken care of so badly, that much was plainly obvious. Yet, Atropa could not be the one to do it. Even if she was able to accept herself as an owner - which she very much could not - that didn’t change the facts. Atropa didn’t know the first thing about floret ownership, and more importantly, she lacked the authorization to even begin such a legal process. Getting said approval would be next to impossible, with how her peers looked at her. Atropa was a dangerous mistake. She didn’t deserve a pet and she shouldn’t have one, for the human’s sake. That’s what she told herself.

“I’ll keep be touch,” Atropa responded.

𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗧𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱.

Alice trembled in the dark. This was too real. It was far too real.

“Atropa,” Alice said quietly to herself.

This creature. This alien. This… Person? The affini was sentient. Thinking. Feeling. Alice questioned if Atropa was really a monster. She was terrifying, sure. Profoundly terrifying. But there was something else to her. Had that affini sounded… Sad? Alice must have imagined it, but she couldn’t seem to shake the notion. Atropa’s last words sounded somehow so lonely. That couldn’t be, right? It was stupid to think that. Surely she misheard. In fact, trying to read into an alien’s tone was probably a fool’s errand to begin with. Alice had no way to know if what she’d detected even matched up with human emotions. Alice was overthinking things, she concluded.

Trying to psychoanalyze some eldritch thing from across the stars. Stupid, Alice berated herself. She had no idea what she’d gotten into. How could she even begin to try and understand something like Atropa? She had jumped right into the palm of some entity from another galaxy whose motivations and means of achieving them remained a messy tangle of misinformation and assumptions. And she’d taken the entire station with her. Every single human on this rock would be dragged into this game Alice was playing with a board and pieces that were both beyond her comprehension.

Alice smiled darkly against her pillow, fear and excitement equally at play in her conflicted expression. Serves them right.