Yet they needed enough antimatter to accelerate the Salvation of Life up to a fifth of the speed of light, then decelerate again as they approached the next star. The arrival of the Olyix was the greatest boon Sol’s energy corporations had ever known. Every wattdollar the sale of alien Kcell technology brought in was spent buying electricity from human companies. A fifth of the solarwells dropped into the sun were currently being used to feed energy to the Salvation of Life, where deep inside its engineering section, alien machinery was churning out anti-hydrogen atoms one at a time.

The passenger ferry completed its flip, and we backed in toward the Salvation’s axis dock. Latching on was a series of metallic clunks. Then the airlock opened. As I was unbuckling my straps, dry, mildly spiced air drifted along the cabin, at a temperature several degrees lower than the cabin air. Not unpleasant, but definitely unusual.

The interior mechanics of the axis dock were similar to the Lobby’s layout, but with living branches twined around conduits, sprouting waxy purple leaves. Small birds with ovoid bodies and five fin-like wings flitted along the wide corridors, effortlessly rolling around our delegation as we made our cumbersome way through the rotating seal. The reception chamber on the other side was a big hemisphere cut out of the rock, with a craggy surface carpeted in a dull topaz moss. There were ten wide elevator doors around the rim, made from what appeared to be a glossy honey-colored wood. An Olyix waited for us outside one of the doors, its feet sticking to the moss as if it were Velcro.

Sandjay, my altme, told me it was opening a general phone link. “Welcome,” the Olyix said. “My designation is Eol, and this body is Eol-2. Please accompany me down to our first biochamber. I am sure you will prefer the increased gravity.”

Most of us muttered a quick thank-you. There was an undignified surge to get into the elevator, which had curving walls of the same wood as the doors. It rattled and clanked its way downward, traveling a lot slower than any human elevator would. The biochambers were ovoids four kilometers in diameter, so the trip down seemed interminable—especially as Eol-2 insisted on trying to make small talk all the way. It didn’t help that the spice scent grew more pungent as we descended.

When the doors finally opened, we were in a long rock tunnel, again covered in moss, and lit by bright green–tinged strips at waist height. Gravity was about two-thirds Earth standard, for which Nahuel let out a sigh of relief.