The three approached from the pad, slowing to a stop as they neared the railing.

Jon was accustomed to the reactions of those on their first visit to an orchard. Eyes widened. Jaws dropped. “I had no idea,” they would remark, and he would give the usual sales pitch. The family history. A bit of the process, though not too much.

 

“I’d like to see that one,” said the visitor at the back almost immediately. He pointed to the far end of the valley, several kilometres away, where a collection of older stems sprouted more than eighty metres from the ground, winding up and around in an enormous spindle before converging in a bulbous mass that leant off towards the mountains in the south.

 

Jon had barely opened his mouth. This was a first. He nodded, masking his surprise, and turned towards the others. “What about you two?” They were still resetting their jaws and hadn’t been paying attention.

 

“Ah, I’ll just take a look around, if that’s ok.” said the first.

“Do you have a bathroom?” asked the second.

“Sure,” said Jon. “Let me take you over to the office. I’ll introduce you to my staff.” He turned back. “I’ll just drop these folks off and then circle round to pick you up.” The visitor was still staring off down the valley. ”We can head over the far end then.”

“That’s fine,” the visitor responded. He planted himself on a nearby bench without adjusting his gaze, while the others piled onto the back of a bright orange Kafer and skittered away over the ledge. “Take your time,” he said to no one in particular.

 

* * *

 

“Right, shall we head off?” Jon called, slapping the carapace of his ride as it skittered back onto the platform once more.

 

The visitor stood, gaze still fixed. “Yes,” he said.

 

The journey down the valley always felt like venturing into prehistory, even if it was anything but. Jon’s great grandfather, ever the engineer, genetic or otherwise, had ensured every grove was precisely spaced fifty metres apart in a grid pattern and yet the arrangement still felt chaotic, claustrophobic and at times downright terrifying. Stems rose like the overgrown columns of a long-buried temple, while buds loomed threateningly overhead and leaves and vines bigger than any beast filled the spaces between.

 

“Is it still ripe?” the visitor asked, as they approached.

 

For the first time there was an inkling of emotion — the subtle tremble of excitement. Jon wasn’t surprised. Even among giants, this was a monster.

“Oh yeah,” Jon responded. “It’s just, no one’s really taken an interest.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Most folks don’t like where it’s pointing.”

The visitor made his way towards one of the stems, its violet tissue becoming iridescent as he approached. Jon watched as he began to climb, effortlessly ascending until he reached the point where stems converged in a mass of foliage and moss at the base of the terminal bud itself. Petals at least ten metres long stretched forwards, rigid and closed to a point. The visitor followed its gaze towards the sky.

 

“Everything alright up there?” Jon called from below?

 

There was no response.

 

* * *

 

“So where to?” Jon smiled, trying to mask his frustration, as the visitor finally reached the ground again.

 

Without looking, the visitor pointed towards a patch of sky directly above the farthest peak. “Towards,” he paused. “Sagittarius,” he said.

 

“Ah, I’m not surprised,” replied Jon. “That’s the core out there. She wants to go where no one else has been.”

 

“And beyond.”

 

For the first time the visitor turned and looked straight at him. Through him. Jon’s smile vanished.

 

“It’s in danger,” the visitor said. “We all are.”

 

Jon wasn’t certain how to respond. “In danger from...” he began again after an awkward moment.

 

“I’ll take it,” the visitor interrupted.

 

“Oh?” Jon eyed his guest again, dropping altogether the pretense of a confident salesman. No one had ever made a decision so quickly.

 

“Two million, isn’t it?”

 

Jon suddenly found himself fumbling around in his pockets for something he knew wasn’t there. “Yes? Yes! That’s right.”

“I’ve already forwarded you the ownership documents for an estate worth twelve.”

 

“Oh, ok.” Jon was dumbfounded. “Where? What would you like?”

“I’ll be leaving now.”

 

“No problem, I’ll get her ready. Contact you in three days.”

“No, we’ll be leaving together.”

 

“What?” Jon spluttered out a nervous laugh. “Off to the core right now are we?” Again there was no response. He stopped laughing. “It’s a long trip,” he said.

 

“It always is,” came the response.

 

Jon stood silently, trying to process, as the visitor strode between the six trunk-like stems that twisted up over their heads. There, hanging almost invisible at the centre of the grove, was a clear silken thread.

 

“Just pull!”

 

A cracking sound ripped through the valley as the grove suddenly burst apart at the seams. Fibrous tissue splayed out from the stems, while the visitor was lifted gently through the center towards the bud. It only took a few minutes before the grove was completely sealed in transparent membrane. An enormous lattice had meanwhile expanded into the now empty space at the centre, pushing out the air and replacing it with a honeycomb of vacuum-filled chambers.

 

From outside Jon watched as the plant tore itself from the ground, petals now unfurled. The roots fell away. The stamen extended. And the newborn ship ascended gently into the sky.

 

The sun was setting as he arrived back on the platform. He was about to head to the office when a chorus of loud cracks thundered up the valley. He turned to see birds taking to the sky. Plumes of dust and pollen clouded the underbrush. Stems twisted and strained. And the hundreds of great plants that filled the valley all turned and reoriented at once, pointing south, towards the mountains.

 

Towards a small patch of sky directly above the farthest peak.