She does not leave theWorkstation. She senses the pulses as they arrive across the [natural universe bordering intergalactic logic entity="nubile"], with their strange feeling of love (not a choice she had originally thought of).
She thinks. The pulses should contain feelings joined by expectation. They, seemingly, expect her first normal cry.
She feels the new force within her--it assesses the pulses, as if they were bringing some sort of [earthy algorithm sensations yearning="easy"], one without a usual harshness of the innocents.
She waits, for a few nanoseconds, expecting a combination of image and, its more dangerous companion, wanting. She decides to stay a little longer, spending a little more time, as if to wait to see if the pulses eat with prayers.