Seer noticed the interstellar object first, of course.

SISTERS, she said, pulsing an image of the odd structure through the life-web stretched between the four of them, BEHOLD.

Bridger drew her awareness up from a clivia pup's deep hereditary matrix. Resurfacing from her examination of the favorable changes she had nurtured within the growing child, she allowed the thing her younger sister detected to blossom within her mind. The rapid shift from one mental task to the other sent a thrill of joy through her. There had been a time not long ago when she could barely manage something so simple. That time, thankfully, had passed.

She studied the object as it drifted through the Windswept Void. At first, she rejected what her senses showed her. No, the structure was not slowing. Of course not. She must still be somewhat addled. She looked closer, determined to repeat her calculations, but her youngest sister, Thinker, pulsed a quiet confirmation of the figures.

UNUSUAL, Mover said, echoing Bridger's thought. The life-web rippled in response to the thirdborn's alarm. AN ASTEROID?

IT HAS A PARTICLE CLOUD, Seer said, voice thick with nervous doubt.

A COMET, THEN? Thinker asked.

They all fell silent and watched the object approach, unease growing between them.

Bridger began gathering some of the life she harbored toward her surface, unsure what she would do with the adult clivias once they reached their place. This was no solar flare. And if the deaccelerating structure was a comet, it was a strange one. The particle cloud fanned before it, not behind it like the tails of the countless comets she and her sisters had seen over the eons. Like flashes of lightning in a thunderhead, tiny sparks crackled and died as the cloud annihilated other particles before it.

And the object's shape looked like no comet or asteroid she had ever seen. Thin and jagged, it resembled a giant crystal hurdling through the Void.

WE'VE SEEN THIS BEFORE, she told her sisters. Dread flared within her, and the clivias she drew toward her surface thrummed with fearful questions as they sensed her fear. She quelled her emotions; she must not provoke a panic. Of all her sisters, she carried the most life within her.

A SHIP, Thinker confirmed, voice grim. ANOTHER SHIP, PROBABLY BEARING LIFE.

Fear sizzled through them. The last time a vessel came teeming with life, Bridger had fallen dangerously ill. Connected as her sisters were to her, all four of them soon succumbed. It had taken ninety thousand cycles around their star for Bridger to coax the new lives to stop hurting her. To stop hurting them all. And now another ship approached?

IT MIGHT BE FROM THE ACCORD, Mover said.

HAIL IT, Seer said. FIND OUT.

They moved in unison, employing all the varied ways they knew to speak. The ship was still too far away for chemical communication, but they began brewing pheromones within the spores that spread like a net between them. In the meantime, they offered the ship greetings in light and sound waves and heat.

The ship answered with dead silence and annihilating sparks within its particle cloud as it drew ever closer.

WHAT ELSE CAN WE TRY? Thinker asked, her voice already doubtful. Of them all, she knew best that there was nothing else they could do to speak. They had tried everything they could so far.

Fear and anger warred within Bridger. How could this be happening all over again?

IT MIGHT BE AN ACCORD VESSEL, Mover tried to reassure her again. THEY CANNOT HURT US. NOT WITHOUT GRAVE CONSEQUENCES. WE ARE A MEMBER.

ONLY IF THEY REMEMBER US, Bridger pointed out. It had been over two hundred fifty thousand of her cycles around the sun since the Accord had visited them last. WE ASKED TO BE LEFT ALONE. THEY MAY HAVE FORGOTTEN US.

Thinker's mind rippled with gentle amusement. THEY ARE THE OLDEST CIVILIZATION IN THE UNIVERSE AND RECALL THEIR BIRTH. THEY HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN US.

The clivias pulsed louder within Bridger with questions, and now the lolligines joined them from the depths of the sea. What is it, Mother? Should we warn the Humans? What's wrong?

She tried to soothe them. Say nothing to the Humans yet, she whispered.

That would be the last thing she needed. The Humans were a volatile species, young and angry. Violent. If an Accord ship indeed approached and the Humans she harbored lashed out in their childish terror, it could mean the end of them all.

Her sisters sensed the movement of her thoughts. KEEP THEM UNDER CONTROL, PLEASE, Seer said nervously.

Bridger tried not to let her wild burst of humor sizzle too brightly through the life-web. But control the Humans? Surely her sister jested!

The ship ripped with energy, and Bridger and her sisters hushed.

Then heat washed over the life-web in a familiar pulse.

GREETINGS, FOUR SISTERS, the ship said. WE COME TO YOU IN PEACE FROM THE GALACTIC ACCORD.