The aliens began eating. Her guide picked up a small purple fruit, smelled it, and handed it to her. Juna picked it up, and examined it. She didn’t recognize it, so it was probably yet another species new to the Survey. She smelled it, in case this was expected. The fruit had a rich, complex odor, aromatic and sweet, like a fine wine. The sick alien touched her arm with its knuckles. She glanced up. It held out a similar fruit, and showed her how to peel and eat it. It tasted like one of her father’s finest botrytic Rieslings, only without the alcohol aftertaste.

The food was delicious, but the textures and flavors were disconcerting. One fruit smelled and tasted like custard with cinnamon, another Iruit resembled fresh crab. Juna sampled the pale grey meat. It tasted sweet, as though marinated in fruit juice, and salty, with a faint hint of cheese. It was odd, but not unpleasant. She wondered what kind of animal it had come from.

The aliens urged food on her until she couldn’t eat another bite. The meal made a huge difference. She no longer felt as if a strong wind could blow her away. When everyone was finished eating, her guide poured water into a bowl made from half a gourd and presented it to each person in turn. They rinsed their hands and arms, and splashed their faces to wash off the remains of their meal.

When that was done, the sick alien held its arms toward Juna, spurs up. It wanted something. Unable to understand, Juna shook her head. The alien reached out and grasped her arm just above the wrist. Its touch was cool and firm. Then its wrist spur pricked her arm, and she was unable to move. Fear surged through her as she fought this sudden paralysis. As quickly as it had come, her fear was washed away. Juna knew she should be terrified, but she couldn’t reach her fear. Her guide grasped the sick one’s other arm. Their wrist spurs joined. A third alien linked wrist spurs with her guide.