"I'd compare it to, hm, putting on a boiler suit - while tied up, and it's too small and of a very rough fabric - and while you're in the process you can feel more and more of what's happening in it, a little like coming down from omnilol, then once you've fully got it on the bindings come off and you can move intentionally even if it's very uncomfortable.  And since this is our first batch I think it's smart to be very safe about things like 'what if they're moving reflexively instead of intentionally', 'what if they've just been at it so long that they can move a little even though they aren't all the way in', that sort of thing."

"I don't know what a boiler suit is but I think I follow anyway."

"A pair of coveralls?  Painter's costume?  A thing you put on over your regular clothes when doing work that might ruin them."

"Aha. Uh, are the baby bodies... hungry."

"They're mostly very sleepy, which is most of why I'm having trouble telling whether they're ready."

"It's just it's been a while and they're so small!"

"I think they're just about ready but if you want to send another shuttle out with some milk to be on the safe side I won't object."

"Is there another batch that could be heading out now anyway?"

"Not sufficiently organized yet, information-wise."

"They probably couldn't eat the milk anyway if they're not all settled in and I guess they don't have infantile jaundice to clear or anything. Mrindeh will presumably top them off when they come home to her."

"I was only going to wait a few more minutes anyways."

"Awesome." Tailswish.

Previously, a larger-than-babies small child approached Mrindeh.

"Hello, Ms."

"It's, uh, it's Mrindeh."

"Hello, Ms. - Mrindeh.  May I have some hair ties?"

"Sure, what kind do you like?"

"The little ones for the ends of braids instead of the ones for all of the hair near your head, please."

Little bag of hair ties. "There you go. Lots of colors."

"Thank you very much!"  She giggles, politely.  "May I also please have a sandwich on wheat bread with lettuce, turkey, and cranberry sauce spread on the side closest to the turkey, cut diagonally, please?"

Mrindeh blinks and hands her a sandwich, wrapped up in paper.

"Thank you again."  Kennedy unwraps it and examines whether it's to specifications.

It is, though she didn't specify every property of the sandwich so Mrindeh filled it in.

Like what.

The turkey is very thinly sliced, but it's not the slightly gelid deli style, and it's warm. The cranberry sauce is chunky and has cardamom in it. The lettuce is not a cultivar she's heard of before and it's remarkably flat and sandwich-shaped. The bread is quite crusty and rustic-textured.

Kennedy will try a bite.

It's edible.  She'll eat the rest of it while in the general vicinity of Mrindeh unless that seems objectionable in some way.