Sarion has been pretty much standing around, people-watching, letting her memory-crutch bubble up old thoughts to stand in for her diminished ability to generate new ones. Some of the thoughts are new, though, just because so many of the people are so unlike what she could have expected. It's a novel sensation, frightening but pleasant, like diving from a high cliff into a pool on a hot day.

Every few minutes a Bell comes to check on her, make sure she doesn't need anything, that she's still responsive to conversational stimuli. She is not improving instantly, but she is better, and she is glad to have her alts, and she is finding this party nicely stimulating.