Botanicaust

she was only interested in an answer. She needed allies.
    Rising, she straightened the new microfiber skirt the Fosselites had provided. The cobalt blue fabric would look marvelous in decent light. She longed for a string of beads or a bracelet, anything to prove someone loved her. But anyone who mattered was gone forever, and she had to make friends if she was going to ask for assistance.
    She entered the quiet hallway and headed toward a gathering hall they ’ d passed on the way to the room last night. The double doors stood open, and soft music floated out along with the scent of something unfamiliar. She paused at the threshold, looking over the empty circular tables. Clattering sounded from beyond another set of double doors. “ Hello? ” she called. The big room swallowed the sound.
    Approaching the other set of doors, she reached for the handle just as the door swung outward, causing her to jump back. A trisomy man carrying a large metal container glanced at her and continued past to a big metal cabinet with a clear plastic roof hovering over the center. As he moved, the unfamiliar smell wafted stronger around her and then waned. He set his load in a hollow apparently designed for the container and looked back to Tula. “ It ’ s not time yet. ”
    “ Time for what? ”
    “ You can ’ t come until it ’ s time. ”
    A woman stuck her head out the double doors. “ Louie? Who is it? Oh! ” She blinked at Tula. “ What are you doing here? ”
    The question wasn ’ t exactly unfriendly, but it had a wariness behind it that warned her she might not be welcome. “ I ’ m … looking for Dr. Kaneka. ”
    “ I ’ ll let him know. Have a seat. Lunch is in an hour. Oh, wait, you don ’ t eat, right? ”
    Tula smiled. “ I do. Just not as much. ”
    “ Oh. How about tea? ”
    “ What is tea? ”
    The woman winked at her, the first friendly gesture all day. “ Louie, come get our visitor a cup of tea, please. ”
    The man and woman disappeared behind the doors. The music stopped, and after a few moments, Louie came out with a cup of steaming liquid and set it on a table. He stared at her in what she thought was reproach. She sat and he set a spoon and a small bowl of golden fluid next to her.
    Without a word, he turned and left. So much for making friends . Alone with her “ tea, ” Tula sniffed the steam from the cup. Not unpleasant. She scooped a spoonful and tasted. Slightly bitter, like drinking dirty water. Wrinkling her nose, she pushed the cup away. Out of curiosity, she put the spoon into the other dish and paused as the substance resisted, stiff and thick. Lifting the spoon, she watched the viscous material string between the utensil and the dish. Maybe this was the “ tea? ” She pulled her index finger through a strand, pinching the sticky liquid between thumb and finger, and brought it to her nose. Sweet. Touching her finger to the tip of her tongue, she blinked in surprise before sucking her fingers clean. Sweeter than the candies she gave her kids.
    A large figure pushing a medical cart shuffled by the doors then stopped, drawing Tula ’ s attention. Michael stood outside, as if waiting for an invitation. She waved him to join her. He darted a look around the room, hesitated, and turned the cart toward her. His eyes were on her tea and she pushed both dishes toward him. “ I ’ m waiting for Dr. Kaneka. Would you like some tea? ”
    He shook his head, looking at her hands, not her face.
    Tula poked at the sticky stuff with the spoon. “ I ’ ve never had tea. Do you think you could show me how to drink it? ”
    Taking the spoon, he twirled it to make the glue-like stuff stop dripping and then stirred it into the cup of bitter liquid. “ Oh. That ’ s what that ’ s for. ” She laughed. “ This is the tea? ” She lifted the cup.
    He nodded, a shy smile playing about his lips.
    Tula sipped the sweetened liquid and found it much improved. She smacked her lips. “ Delicious. ” She preferred the sweetener alone, but didn ’ t want to appear ungrateful.
    The woman from the other room appeared again. “ Hello, Michael. Your father is on his way. ”
    He scuffed his feet and put his hands back on the cart.
    “ I ’ d love him to stay. ” Tula looked at the woman.
    “ He doesn ’ t talk. ” The woman waved him off.
    “ Michael and I communicate very well. ” Tula turned a bright smile his way. After her initial fear of the big man, she ’ d come to appreciate his