"Mother Swamp, just look at that thing," Gll'rach hissed through her teeth as her console display traced out the data from the station's EM arrays. The staggering bulk of the Ïackcerpret jump-hauler emerging from Infraspace provided an unpleasant reminder of how insignificant their own void presence still was, but at least it was starting to become routine for the Volvax traffic controller.

The Human Grove it was in the process of disgorging had been a real shock.

In hindsight she wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. A flat little stone-shaped ball of plants and water. Something from a tadpole's cartoon. Kind of absurd for a vessel -- no, a being, a vast and ancient living creature -- that spent the majority of its life in the void.

Smaller freighters, cargo shuttles and passenger craft of endless variety poured out around the Grove, merchants and tourists and other clients of the Ïackcerpret logistical empire. Already a flurry of comms chatter was descending upon Volvax High-Orbit Traffic Central at lightspeed as traders jockeyed to be the first to clear customs, but Gll'rach was still watching the Grove slide silently from the On Time and Intact's cavernous fore shipbay.

Great raindrop-shaped silvered domes fell from the front to the back of the worldlet, studded into the graphite-black crust of its external structure. Crystalline spires bristled irregularly along its dark surface, winking as backing starlight or probing searchlights from the jump-hauler shone through them. It was a seed pod pilfered from a God's garden, descending out of the void upon her home.

It was beautiful.

She realized the crystal nodes on the Grove were not just refracting light, that many of them were flashing EM signals of their own. With a creak of her saddle she shot into a working posture as she recognized their attempts to hail her. Expecting to have to perform an exotic decryption on the incoming messages, she switched her display to the info packet she'd been sent by some state department crony. It was almost disappointing when she realized they were using a practically ubiquitous trade protocol.

"-ffic Control, this is diplomatic shuttle The Wind in the Lindens requesting clearance. We are currently docked with Quaking Aspen Grove, once you provide an approach vector we'll get underway."

It took her a moment to realize her human counterpart had just spoken flawless Vathi, and that the Ïackcerpret translator unit her superiors had acquired at considerable expense was sitting silently on her control panel.

"Acknowledged, diplomatic shuttle, this is Traffic Control. Sending a clearance package now." She was pleased to keep her voice steady and neutral as she radioed back to the enormous living craft.

Like a gnat fleeing a beast's tail a tiny dot detached itself from the mass on her radar screen before falling in behind the swarming vessels of other star-civilizations with stately patience. Gll'rach laughed quietly to herself as she heard angry voices erupt at several of her colleagues' consoles. The traders were furiously watching the human shuttle jump the entire customs queue.

Eat scum, gasbags, she thought fiercely to herself. You aren't here to save the world.

-^-

"This is So'both Rill with Channel 76.31 News coming to you live from the Gobgol City spaceport, where the much-anticipated human diplomatic delegation has just touched down. I am told they will be disembarking from their vessel imminently, and while we wait I've got So'bax University Xenobiologist and increasingly-frequent guest of the program Dach'an Ssyx joining us remotely from his office.

Dach'an, thanks so much for your time. What can you tell us, broadly speaking, about these Humans?"

"Always a pleasure, So'both. They're certainly one of the lesser-known members of the galactic community in our neck of the mangrove, so I'm afraid I don't have a comprehensive breakdown for the viewers at home. I am, however, pleased to tell you all that they're regarded as a stable and peaceful - if reclusive - neighbour, and they have maintained a 5-star rating in the Ïackcerpret client registry for over ten thousand years."

"That is a relief, let me tell you. The peace and stability nearly as much as the great rating. Now is there any truth to the rumours that this delegation has come to us to consult with our leaders regarding the impending climate fiasco?"

"Well So'both, you've kinda skewered me on that one. My department relies quite heavily on government grant money, and if I don't refer to what you're calling an 'impending climate fiasco' as 'a politically contentious and logistically ambiguous pseudoproblem' I can assure you we won't get very much of it ever again.

I can however, point to a slim but consistent body of anecdotal evidence gathered from across our species' information-sphere that the humans are generally understood to have some unique climatological expertise. Even if the government is simply acting with great foresight here, it is safe to say they have probably brought the humans here to take a look at some of our recent 'biospheric conundrums'."

"I would have preferred a smidgen less ambiguity, Dach'an, but I understand the pressures we're all working under. At any rate I am told the humans are about to leave their craft, so we'll let you get back to your research. Thanks again for your time."

"Don't call me again unless you're going to send me the questions firs-"

-^-

"Why do they weep, grandmater?"

"Because this is the first time they have seen the sky in centuries, precious thing."

-^-

Vor'glrr appraised the being standing across from him.

The humans had a tendency to mind their own business. The few civs with which they did deal regularly were happy to remain tight-lipped on the subject. Whether that was by request, or folks simply luxuriating in the cachet it brought them was anybody's guess.

Thanks to a stunning lack of supply the tidbits the Volvax intelligence community had managed to procure had cost a fortune. He had spent the yearly GDP of a small, prosperous nation on what amounted to a few hundred words of text and a smattering of images, less than half of which were proper 3-dimensional captures.

The plant suit was weirder-looking than the grainy visuals had suggested, far less uniform than the manufactured suits his kind were just beginning to ship into orbit en-masse to support their growing space industries. Little furled buds clung to every exposed surface, hiding away the superconducting crystals which performed the work that Volvax tech left to silicon circuit boards.

"Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the saddles on the opposite side of his desk. It was a humid, overcast day and the view from his office was satisfactorily splendid.

Perched right on the banks of the Gob river as it began to widen into a long, chicaned delta, he could see the bustle of the city wharves and dockyards in one direction, and out past the coastal mangrove to the sea beyond in the other. On the opposite bank was the city's Old Town, with all of its historic charm.

With the environmental shields up it was one of the finest places in Gobgol from which to watch the city whirl about its business. Of course, as a power move - one he often pulled to fluster negotiators - he had left the shields down. The breeze was thick and sticky, and before long biting insects would begin to investigate.

The human nodded at his prompt, and curled their legs beneath them as they settled into a straight-backed posture.

"I know you've traveled quite a distance to get here, I hope the journey was pleasant," the volvax offered.

"Thank you Minister. The Ïackcerpret are practiced hosts," the human replied, "and at any rate it is easier for our Grove to maintain homeostasis inside of a ship. I do miss the view when we travel it, but The-Wrought-and-Shattered suggested to us that time was of the essence, and so Infraspace was our only real option."

"Yes, and we're glad you decided to take it. Fascinating that you can spend all those centuries in transit unfrozen, but maybe a little tricky for the dynamics of diplomacy. I'm sure you've heard it many times already but welcome to Volvax." A gnat landed on his primary eye and his tongue shot out to snatch it. Vor'glrr spied a few of them buzzing around the human, too.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

"You've done your homework, Vor'glrr. Most of a Grove's inhabitants spend the cold and silent darkness of travel in a state of petrification, but our guardians tend to the Grove in long and peaceful shifts." As the human spoke one of the larger buds on its suit began to unfurl.

"Hrm, fascinating," the volvax murmured, distracted.

Startlingly, the blooming leaves revealed a savage-looking armoured arthropod. It shook itself, and then flexed its segmented limbs. The increased internal pressure blew a quartet of long, graceful wings out from its back, and a secondary pair extended from the end of its tail.

With an audible thrum it launched itself into the air, snatching a wheeling bitefly as it went.

The human had brought their own pest control.

He shook his head, trying to regain his focus. "You have me at a disadvantage, I'm not sure my aide got your name." It was damned hot on the river with the shields down, and he could feel great swathes of his hide beginning to flush in an attempt to shed heat.

It bared its teeth at him, a smile if he remembered the briefing properly. "You may call me Araucaria. You look warm, Minister. Would you be more comfortable with your environmental shields raised?"

It was going to be a long negotiation.

-^-

"...two hundred fifty thousand cubic metres of radioactive waste, one hundred twenty-five million tonnes of your moon's regolith, sixty million litres of seawater, and fifteen trillion smart credits backed by Ïackcerpret Intragalactic Transport and Telecom." Araucaria smiled faintly as she gathered her breath.

Though he had known the sum was coming, Vor'glrr couldn't help but look miserable as he gazed back over the aged wood of his desk.

"In exchange you will receive two hundred thousand cubic metres of mycelial sod specialized for agricultural management, three hundred thousand cubic metres of mycelial sod specialized for combating desertification, twenty-five million litres of microbial sludge specialized for the elimination of environmental microplastics-" she continued, before her counterpart cut her off.

"Microbial sludge? What are the downstream effects of introducing this 'sludge' to our reeling biomes?" the Volvax Trade Minister demanded suddenly.

The human regarded him patiently. "Your Department of Natural Resources was already briefed on this exchange to allow them time to prepare you, Minister, but in short our microbes are going to be a great deal less catastrophic for your ecosphere than another century of rampant plastic degradation.

Yours is not the first world we have come to on the precipice of that particular slow death, nor would you be the first to turn down our assistance if it comes to that. I only wish you better luck than we had with our own homeworld."

The volvax was stunned for a moment. The whole exchange felt absurd, like being threatened by someone while holding a gun to your own head. "I just know that the President of the Congress of Nations has concerns about er, aggressive colonization by your extraplanetary cocktail," he croaked.

"I can't promise our Life isn't going to thrive here," the biped replied with a knowing nod. "You have created desirable ecosytems for some of our most useful specialists. Wasn't that the point of this visit, minister? Our mutual friends The-Wrought-and-Shattered would not have kept you in the dark about the nature of our assistance."

The Minister nodded grudgingly. "It is the point, but you must understand my concern. This government will be remembered for what happens, for better or worse."

"I understand that new life is better than no life, minister. Your government does too, or I wouldn't be here. Your children's children will grow up on a world very different from the one you did, but a far better one than they stand to inherit now," the human said severely. "We understand that our Life will benefit from the exchange, that is why our fee isn't higher. We're fixing your world minister, did you think the nuclear waste was payment? Our Groves eat it, but that doesn't mean we're fool enough to think it's valuable to you.

The credits are not without their uses to us, but what Volvax really offers is a fertile ground to spread our Life, and fresh genomes to add to our multiplicity. Welcome the change, Minister. Welcome the growth."

The human smiled wryly. "At least we aren't building a military base."

Vor'glrr had no reply, and spread his foreclaws in concession. When you asked the galactic community for help it came in every conceivable form, but it rarely came without conditions. The-Wrought-and-Shattered had brought several possible solutions to them when Volvax diplomats had warned their trade partners of their looming environmental crises, and the humans' soft touch had seemed by far the least exploitative of the fledgling star-civilization.

Sensing the end of the argument, she continued. "In addition to the sod and the sludge, you'll receive three hundred thousand tonnes of enriched soil, thirty-five million litres of Grove-purified water, and a small team of tenders to oversee the allocation of these resources and the bootstrapping of your environmental programs."

"Those numbers sound impressive, but it all amounts to a few big farms and the water they'll run through in a year. How can I trust you with the future of my home, when that is all you've brought to us?" The volvax was sitting forward in his saddle now, all of his eyes locked intently on the bright pair staring back at him.

"It will take a hundred years for Quaking Aspen Grove to convert your regolith back into usable soil and water, and decades before we can properly replenish our stores of all the resources we are selling to you. To say nothing of the tenders, who are each an irreplaceable pillar of our community. We came to help, and we have not been miserly with our offer." The human cocked her head and fixed him with a pointed gaze.

"I could trust a rock to do a better job with your home than you have, would you really question the suitability of my people? A century from now, when the last of your regolith is being broken down by the Grove, you will be long-retired - if you still live at all - and my tenders will still be here stewarding our gifts for you."

"We have our own programs you know," Vor'glrr huffed. "We aren't totally helpless. We didn't bring you here to be talked down to! I just want to know that I'm not making a terrible mistake when I sign this agreement."

"My apologies, Minister. I do not look upon what you have with disdain. My kind craves a horizon to chase, and an elemental part of us misses it dearly when we are confined to the Groves. I can scarcely stand to look at your sky without trembling. This planet is worth saving. Let us help you save it.

What good are credits when your food is poison and you choke on your water?"

"You're serious," he breathed, reeling. He realized how badly he wanted this slender alien to convince him that it was time to feel hope again. "There isn't a fragment of cynicism in you, you're convinced you can do this."

"Cynicism is the refuge of the apathetic and the frightened, it is never to late to do something. That my kind are standing before you today rather than lying in a tomb at the bottom of a gravity well is proof of that." There was a note of steel in the human's measured voice.

"Our gifts seem insignificant, and your problems loom larger than they ever have. These things take time Minister. I know the people of Volvax grow impatient as they start to fear that it is running out. We have traveled between the stars to bring you a cure, not a bandage.

Next year your 'few big farms' will cover five times the area they started with, and once they've acclimated to Volvax our mycelia won't need Grove water to grow safely. By year three the seed program will be ready to export Volvax-grown mycelial sod en-masse to wherever the Congress of Nations needs it most. In a decade your children will be able to eat and drink without consuming more microplastic, and their children will be born and die without it ever entering their tissues."

Araucaria paused for a moment, before fixing Vor'glrr with another soft smile. "I'm not being theatrical. It was all in the briefing, Minister."

The politician cleared his vocal sac sheepishly. "Yes, well admittedly I may have, ah, skimmed through some of the materials.

Normally this sort of thing would have been handled by the head of the Department of Natural Resources, but between you and me her corruption and lobbying violations investigation is about to be formally announced. The President asked me just yesterday to handle this personally."

"You've committed no harm, Vor'glrr. I sometimes take for granted just how much time we have to ponder our decisions. To ease your fears, we have come to worlds far worse off than this one, and nudged them back from the brink. The worst is yet to come, but these are surmountable challenges.

And for the love of your gods and ours keep your own programs going. Every credit you spend and hour you work saves more people from suffering."

-^-

Chen'en Zaa wove through the crowded accessway.

"Yeah, it's like six jumps to home, and dad said that since we've moved to a higher client tier ÏITT subsidizes way less of the travel costs, so I'm not going back to Volvax for break.

I'm sorry babe, just... use your hand or something. I know your broke ass isn't fronting me the credits to jump home.

Oh for Swamp's sake, it's barely even a full quarter until the end of the year, and then I'll be home for like the entire rainy season. We knew this was going to be tough when we agreed to go long-distance, babe.

Because I'm going to check out a Grove! No, seriously. Quaking Aspen was riding a jump-hauler through Beychae and they'll pay my way back to school when break is over. Babe, get over it, I am not coming home. This is actually interesting, they're like, part of our history!

Look, I have to let you go, I'm at my gate. I'll talk to you after the break, when I can hop on the school's quantum relay for free. Tell your mom I said hi!

Yeah, love you too babe." She rolled her primary eye as she closed the call. Boys.

The lone human occupying the accessway gate stepped up to greet her. "Ah, I've been waiting for you. We're so pleased to have you, our last visitor from Volvax departed a very long time ago.

The aft shipbay is only very lightly pressurized, if you don't have a sealsuit you'll want one of our slime-hoods until you're acclimated to the Grove's internal environment."

The hood was more animated than she expected, wrestling the human's hand playfully before oozing down over her head to cover her respiratory, vocal and sensory systems' vulnerable termini. Somehow the little creature managed not to choke or blind her as it contoured itself to her.

The hood's protoplasm was as clear as glass, and once it adjusted to her eyes her vision wasn't impacted by the thing's presence at all. She tried not to think of a snot bubble as its bulb of captured air extended from her face.

"Oh, it really likes you! You must have a compatible external biome. Usually strangers gross them out." The human chuckled to himself as his own visor dribbled down his face.

Inside the Ïackcerpret ship it was difficult to appreciate the size of the Grove, its silhouette looming over her seeming no different than any skyscraper in the darkness of the shipbay. She quickly passed through a slick, malleable veil that reminded her of the hood, and then she was inside. Her human guide passed her off to another of his kind.

The new one bared her teeth. "Chen'en Zaa. I am glad you could make it. I worked with your great-grandmother, you have her eyes.

Welcome to Quaking Aspen Grove. Welcome home."