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information. The results were hidden from Deklan’s view, but several doctors were clustered around her running tests.
    There were reports of hundreds of cases like hers from the evacuation. Some involved people who had turned into enormous and predatory animals. Deklan had even read about a man who had metamorphosed into a fifteen-meter leopard seal and been put down by a woman who could point her hand like a gun and put people to sleep.
    Susan was right, decided Deklan: he was being selfish and should have called his parents when he got back. It was just that he didn’t want to make the call because he would be proving his mother right about Earth’s being dangerous after The Sweep. But he also knew that, like jumping into cold water, it would be better to get it all over with as quickly as possible. With no little trepidation he flicked a series of icons on his Uplink.
    His mother’s beaming face soon appeared with something green in her hair. “Deklan!” she effused. “You have to see my tomatoes.” Her voice conveyed a raw excitement that was usually reserved for the winning of lottery jackpots.
    “What, Mom?”
    “My tomatoes! They’re huge!”  
    Tricia paused for a moment, and Brice Tobin interjected. “Son, it might be better if you just came here.”
    The trip from the hospital passed in a blur. Deklan ignored any thoughts of what was waiting for him and researched the disasters reported by other evacuation teams.
    When he stepped into his parents’ hotel room, the sight that greeted him was peculiar. The space no longer resembled a vacation spot but, instead, an improvised hydroponics lab. Hanging pots were everywhere, with a jungle of vines escaping from each of them. Tendrils draped the room, using the edges of any convenient surfaces as routes for expansion. More plants peaked out from the bathroom, and the bed was wreathed with flowers.
    Dirty footprints were tracked across the carpet, and his father’s shirt was smeared with evidence that he had been helping with the tasks at hand. The garbage overflowed with trimmed bits of stems and leaves. His mother’s clothes were even dirtier, and she had a small plant growing in her hair. Deklan wasn’t sure whether he should bring it up.
    Displayed on one table was a veritable cornucopia of fruits and vegetables. The produce was some of the biggest that Deklan had ever seen. The tomatoes were the size of baseballs, the strawberries the size of his fists.
    As he surveyed the bounty, Deklan could only ask, “Did you grow all of this since this morning?”
    His mother had never looked more excited. “Yes! And this isn’t everything. Your father and I have gorged ourselves on fruit.”
    Deklan helped himself to a strawberry and bit into it. The flavor was superior to that of any other strawberry he’d ever eaten.
    His mother watched him like a hawk as he finished the fruit. “Oh, Deklan, what do you think? Did you like it?”
    Deklan knew that there was only one acceptable response. “It was great, the best strawberry I’ve ever tasted.”
    “Your mother has rediscovered her long-missing green thumb.” Brice’s comment was said in the driest tone of voice Deklan had ever heard his father use.
    Tricia scurried around the room, bouncing from plant to plant like a teacher trying to control a room filled with unruly pupils. “This is great! I’m going to start up my own company, ‘Tricia’s Tomatoes: A Fruit and Vegetable Emporium.’ Oh, I can’t wait.”
    The plants were visibly growing as Deklan looked at them. Before his eyes new leaves budded forth and then unfurled. It was like weeks compressed into seconds. He hated to break the moment but said, “Um, I have some bad news.” Both of his parents turned to him. Deklan took a deep breath and continued, “There was an incident in Houston. Michael’s in a rejuvenation tank.”
    “How serious is it?” asked Brice.
    Deklan swallowed the painful lump in his throat. “One of his wings was