Yirella had been five or six when she started mentally assigning her two muncs as Uno and Dos. They’d been studying old Earth languages at the time, and she’d liked the softness of classical Spanish. By the time she was seven, Uno had become Uma, because even Yirella rather enjoyed the idea of having a goddess as a companion, while Dos had become Doony—for no reason whatsoever except it sounded kind of fun. When she reached eight the names had become an ingrained facet of their association, and even Alexandre had given up asking her not to use them.

Now as Yirella leaned on the wall, staring through the big window into the treatment room, Uma and Doony had their arms wrapped around her legs in a loving hug. Her hands stroked their skulls, providing reassurance that she was all right and still cared for them despite leaving them behind for eleven days. When the rescue flyer had landed back at the Immerle estate, everyone’s cohorts had come charging out of the dormitory to greet them. They ran into a wave of emotion—the relief and stress her yearmates were radiating in the wake of their ordeal. The poor muncs, expecting a happy reunion, had reacted badly, demanding affection, embracing their masters and mistresses in unbreakable hugs. It had taken a long time to calm things down. Uranti, the munc-tech, was called to deal with Dellian’s semi-hysterical cohort, to allow the doctors to treat their injured master without having to constantly bat them away.

Yirella had watched the spray shot that was quickly administered to each of the creatures with interest. She was sure it wasn’t a sedative, as they didn’t become drowsy. Instead the drug seemed to banish their emotions. Then she realized Alexandre was studying her. For once in her life she didn’t bow her head or look away; she returned hir gaze levelly.

“Did we pass?” she asked belligerently.

Surprisingly, Alexandre looked immensely sad and turned away. Yirella had followed the medical party as Dellian was carried into the treatment center. Now that the casualty team had finished with him, he was lying on a wide clinic bed, his wounds covered with long strips of surgical-grade a-skin, with various tubes emerging from blue blisters stuck to his arms. His munc cohort was snuggled up around him, drawing warmth and comfort from the touch—a scene reminiscent of puppies nestling around their mother. After spending her time on the resort island successfully playing the unattainable ice queen, she rather envied them and let out a sigh of regret.

Uma and Doony immediately tightened their hold on her legs, sensing her affection was being directed elsewhere. They only came up to her hips now, so they couldn’t see through the window. She stroked them again, down the nape of the neck, the way they enjoyed most, and cooed reassurance at them, body posture reinforcing the feeling, I’m fine, and I’m relieved for my friend, too. Everything is going to be good.