Jeff was standing on a low rise some ten feet behind me, one hand resting on the trunk of an alien tree, a weary expression on what remained of his face. The bandage was gone. So was most of the skin. In their place, he had a twisting mass of vines and roots, some thin as filaments, others thick as garter snakes. They were in constant motion, twining around each other in complicated knots that unlooped themselves as quickly as they had formed.

Breath catching in my throat, I looked down at my left arm.

The skin was gone from the elbow to the tips of my fingers, replaced by a mass of vines thicker than the ones on Jeff’s face, darker in shade and covered with thorns like a blackberry creeper. I raised my arm to the level of my eyes, drinking it in. There were small white flowers with petals like a butterfly’s wings hidden at the center, visible only in glimpses between the moving vines. The thorns smelled sharp and astringent, and I knew they were tipped in some sort of complicated poison, something that would stop hearts with a touch.

“Is this…?” I whispered, and stopped, unable to finish the question.

“Once,” said Jeff. I looked up. He was watching me with sympathy in his still-too-human eyes. “A lot of worlds ago. You and me, we’ll never have this in the real world. Only here.”

“Why?” I couldn’t keep the relief out of my voice; I didn’t even really try. After a lifetime lived in a human skin, the thought of becoming whatever Jeff was turning into—whatever I was turning into—didn’t appeal.

“We adapt. World after world, we adapt. Are you all right?” He took a step toward me, his still-human hands reaching out for mine. I took them, fingers on one side and vines like tendrils on the other. “I’ve been so worried.”

“You got away.”

“They knew there were four of us. They didn’t know there were five. Thankfully.” He cocked his head. “You weren’t sure?”

“No. I couldn’t be. They haven’t let me see anyone, and it wasn’t like I could ask ‘Hey, do you have another plant person in your holding cells?’” I had only the word of my keepers that they’d released Graham and the others. Maybe they were still captive somewhere in this sprawling compound, unwitting hostages against my good behavior. I hoped not. I didn’t trust the people holding me, but I wanted to believe they were trying to do the right thing for their own species. I was the only alien here. Let the humans go.