The Quelin took that in. ‘Then I count myself privileged,’ he said, ‘to have seen you outside of that.’

Captain Tem got up from the table, the hints of yellow and purple in her cheeks unmissable. She hadn’t forgotten the garden any more than Speaker had, it seemed. ‘I’m going to watch the kid,’ she said.

‘Captain,’ Speaker said. She had no intention of walking back anything she’d said earlier, but she did want to help, for Tupo’s sake. This wasn’t a job for one person alone. ‘I know I can’t read your monitors like you can, but if you teach me what basic colours or patterns to watch out for, we can take turns. I learn fast.’

Captain Tem stood in the melted-open doorway, its liquid frame rippling around her. ‘Sure,’ she said, her voice utterly neutral. ‘Come on.’

ROVEG

Aeluon design didn’t make sense when you put other species inside of it. It was plenty functional for any sort of body. You could move around in an Aeluon space. You could use their furniture. You could be completely comfortable. But the look of an Aeluon living space – be it ship or building or otherwise – really only served to complement one species and one species alone. They treated surroundings as accessory, a backdrop to both fashion and the aesthetic of their own biology. Aeluons always matched the rooms they lived in, and when you substituted another sapient in their stead, the effect just wasn’t the same.

Nowhere was this rule more evident than with Ouloo, who looked like she belonged in Pei’s bed about as much as Roveg himself would. Her red furry frame sprawled against the pristine white polymer like an old rug – a nicely kept, freshly washed rug, but a rug all the same. Roveg had never seen a Laru belly-up before, and he did his best not to stare in curiosity at the oil-black skin that peeked through thinner layers of fur, or at the subtle seam of the pouch where Tupo had once lived. He thought of the keratin pockets that lined the edges of his own abdomen, where he’d once guarded four bubble-like eggs, two to each side. He’d barely been able to feel them, but he’d been keenly aware of their existence. Every step, every decision to sit or stand or lie down had been made with their safety in mind.

How things have changed, he thought grimly.

Ouloo was not asleep; he had not expected her to be. He could not dream of sleeping under such circumstances. Even so, he did not wish to startle her, and walked into the room with light steps, carrying a tray he’d brought from his own shuttle. ‘I’ve brought you some food,’ he said.

The Laru’s eyes were wide open, fixed on the ceiling. She did not look at him. ‘I’m not hungry,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper.

‘I didn’t think you would be,’ he said. He looked around for a table, or whatever Pei had that would pass for a table. He settled on a lump-like thing that appeared to be made of the same stuff as the bed, only firmer. ‘But hungry or no, I thought you could use some looking after as well.’ He set the tray down on the stylish lump and it moulded itself accordingly, creating a supportive platform. Stars, but it really did feel like it was showing off.

Ouloo gave him the barest of glances, but as she did so, caught a glimpse of the tray. This was enough to make her neck rise up. Roveg had assembled a spread of Laru-friendly nibbles: grilled quickbread, a hurriedly made batch of whitefish salad, tiny wraps of grain paper stuffed with nut butter and edible flowers, and the last of his smoked eel and crackers.

‘Did you … make this?’ she said.

‘Well, I’m of no help to them,’ he said, meaning the two sapients in the med bay. ‘My skills are a bit useless in a situation like this. So … this is what I can contribute.’

Ouloo sat up, resting on her back legs. ‘I can’t remember the last time somebody cooked for me,’ she said. Whether she was stunned by the gesture or just the entire terrible night, it was impossible to say.

‘Then it’s high time someone did,’ Roveg said. He lifted the carafe from the tray. ‘Mint fizz? I thought about making you mek, but I assumed you’d want to stay sharp.’

‘Stars, no, I don’t want mek,’ Ouloo said. She paused. ‘I wouldn’t mind some fizz, though.’ She examined the tray. ‘What are these?’ She pointed a toepad forward.

‘Flower wraps,’ he said as he filled a cup for her.

She picked one up and took a bite. ‘Oh, that’s scrumptious,’ she said. For a moment, her eyes brightened, but they dulled just as quickly. ‘I shouldn’t be enjoying myself.’

‘Oh, don’t think for a minute I ever expected you to enjoy yourself.’ He handed her the cup. ‘This is encouragement, not a cure. You’re probably going to walk away from this with mixed feelings about flower wraps. Which is a shame, because they are scrumptious, and I’m delighted you think so.’

Ouloo popped the rest of the flower wrap into her mouth and moved to take a sip of fizz. She paused. ‘Is this one of mine?’ she asked, holding up the cup.

‘Ah, yes,’ Roveg said. ‘My drinkware is almost certainly the wrong shape for you, so I took the enormous liberty of retrieving that from your house. I hope you’ll forgive me.’

The Laru scoffed. ‘After this, you three can have my house, if you want.’ She said the words with a paper-dry laugh, but her neck sagged as she spoke. Roveg didn’t need to be told why. Nobody knew what after this was going to look like.