‘I didn’t know that part,’ Roveg said, his forelegs shivering. ‘That’s … oh, that’s vile.’ And it truly was, but this fact did nothing to derail his glee.

Tupo had become scientific fervour incarnate. ‘How do they take it from them?’

‘Tupo, please,’ xyr mother said wearily.

The Akarak looked dumbfounded. ‘But … but why?’

‘I have no idea,’ Pei said. ‘No idea.’

‘I knew they ate other mammals, but … ugh,’ Roveg said.

‘They eat mammals?’ Tupo said, xyr voice heading toward a shriek.

Speaker cocked her head. ‘Is that worse?’ she asked. ‘Killing and eating them, rather than harvesting something from them while still alive?’

‘Do you not think so?’ Roveg asked.

‘We only eat plants,’ she said, ‘so all of this is outside my realm of expertise.’

‘What sorts of plants do you eat?’ Ouloo said, pouncing upon the opportunity for a change in topic.

‘Oh,’ Speaker said, blinking. She looked surprised to have someone interested in the subject. ‘Well … hmm.’ There was a long pause. ‘I don’t know the names for any of our foods in Klip.’ This bothered her, clearly. ‘I guess I’ve never talked about them with …’ She gestured at the group. ‘People like yourselves.’

‘Broad strokes?’ Roveg said. ‘Fruits, leaves, nuts …?’

‘All of the above,’ Speaker said. ‘Fruits especially, and flowers. We need a lot of sugar.’

‘See, that’s nice,’ Ouloo said. ‘That sounds like very nice food. Perhaps you could give me a list of your favourites before you go? I’m sure I can look up the translated names.’

‘Why?’ Speaker said.

‘Well, so I could carry some here! That way if you come back – or if you send any of your friends our way – I can make something more to your liking.’ The Laru blinked her large eyes hopefully.

Roveg popped a snapfruit tart into his mouth as he watched Speaker’s reaction to this. Something had caught the tiny sapient completely off guard.

It took Speaker a moment to understand what Ouloo was saying. She looked around at the others, each holding a plate or snacking from the table – or in Tupo’s case, straight from the bag. She saw herself as they did, hanging about the edge and not taking any of the offered food. But … surely. Surely they knew …?

The others looked at her expectantly.

No. Of course they didn’t. The core detail that had determined everything – everything – for her species in the past two centuries, and they didn’t even fucking know about it.

A tangle of frustration began to surface, one that grew more and more knotted with every standard – every tenday, it sometimes felt. To the others, she was sure this question was nothing, and in the grand scheme of things, that was true, just as a speck of dust was nothing. But a million specks of dust, gathered over time, became something big and ugly and impossible to ignore, something that could jam your ship’s filters and ruin your day. Stars, she was tired of needing to be the Linking file for her entire species wherever she went. She’d learned about them; why hadn’t anyone she met ever done the same for her?

She located her tension. It resided in her shoulders, her hands, the joints of her jaw. Mindfully, deliberately, she let it go.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said to Ouloo with a smile in her voice. ‘I didn’t mean to insult you. This all looks delicious.’ In actual fact, she had no idea what any of the foodstuff around her was, but in a different reality, she would’ve loved to try some. ‘The thing is …’ She decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, even though she knew what the answer would be. ‘How much do you know about our suits?’

A silence fell over the group, and there was a weight to it that suggested more than just ignorance. Ah. So they did know something, or at least some of them did. Captain Tem and Roveg had an inkling, she guessed, from the way the Aeluon’s colours were mixing and the fact that a morsel in the Quelin’s grasping toes had paused on the way to his mouth.

Captain Tem was the one to answer, and she did so with a question. ‘Do you mean how they work, or why you use them?’

‘Both. Either.’

‘I know they were mining equipment, once,’ Captain Tem said. Her tone was careful but direct. ‘The Harmagians made your species use them, before the Accords.’

‘That’s right,’ Speaker said. A few minutes of conversation was nothing to form an opinion on, but she did respect the Aeluon’s frankness, even if she disliked her profession. ‘Do you know why we still use them, off our ships?’

‘I … no. I don’t. I assumed it was because you wanted to … to compensate for …’ Captain Tem stopped, reframed. ‘You’re a lot smaller than the rest of us.’

‘We are,’ Speaker said, ‘but it’s not a matter of being able to see eye to eye.’ She wasn’t about to fault an individual for simply not knowing something – she’d certainly been on the end of that equation many times. But stars, was that what they all thought? That her people just wanted to be bigger? ‘In part, it’s because we can’t move around public spaces the way the rest of you do.’ She raised her left wrist-hook. ‘We don’t walk around our homes. We climb. We swing.’ She pointed from where she stood to one of the tables. ‘Without my suit, I’d have to crawl on my belly to get from here to there. I could. But that’s not ideal.’