“At first, the Corvus soil structure couldn’t support even the hardiest Earth plants, until the colony investors spent most of their capital on shiploads of fertilizer. Ah, it was considered a marvelous joke in the Hansa—the great manure convoy to Corvus Landing—but carrier after carrier spread it across our plains. After the colonists had stabilized the soil chemical levels the next season they were able to make the transition to wheat and oats and barley.” Talbun sighed. “I wish the trees had been here to record everything. Massive amounts of seeds were planted in an industrial fashion, low-flying aircraft strewing them like cropdust all across the plains.”

The old priest looked wistful as he led Beneto down the gentler slope on the other side toward the beckoning grove. “I came here after three years, and it took the settlers five to turn Corvus Landing around. Now we’re marginally self-sufficient, modestly profitable, though we have little to export. The northern mines produce enough minerals and refined metals that we can build our structures. Mayor Hendy has changed Colony Town into the thriving boom city you saw at the spaceport.”

Beneto and Talbun passed a low structure that the aged priest identified as his home. “The women of Colony Town cook for me and insist on cleaning my house. It’s important to them. They’d never let a green priest forget how much they respect and appreciate us.” Talbun gave a weary smile and continued toward the whispering fronds of the worldtree grove. “In truth, though, I spend little time within walls. I prefer to sleep and pray out among my friends the trees.”

They walked into the grove, and Beneto immediately felt the benevolent sensation around him, the dozing, infinite mind of the worldforest. Beneto knew he would take his rest out here as well, where the grove could speak to him. The trees would whisper in his dreams, and he would whisper back to them.

When Talbun touched the scaly bark of the nearest tree, his face became wistful, as if decades had melted away from him. “Every day, I come here and tell the trees whatever news I’ve learned. Not much happens on Corvus Landing, but they seem to enjoy it if I just ramble on about philosophical matters.”

“The trees love to drink in information wherever they are, regardless of the subject.” Beneto stood beside the old man in the grove, feeling as if he had come home. These worldtrees were much younger than the ancient forest that covered Theroc, but still exactly the same.

Talbun looked at his young comrade, obviously relieved—as if anticipating when he could rest at last. “Corvus Landing is no one’s dream of a paradise, Beneto, but it is a planet where hardy pioneer spirits can make a home for themselves. I hope you’ll like it here.”