“All right,” she muttered, “but if I fall and kill myself, it’s your fault.”

She grabbed hold of the vine and let herself swing down. It sagged, but didn’t break. Her stomach tightened and her heart beat wildly as she crossed hand over hand between the trees, but she made it over in one piece. The alien reached down and helped pull her onto the branch. As soon as Juna was settled, it turned and bounded off again.

Juna lost all track of time on that terrifying trip through the treetops. Twice, she nearly fell to her death. Each time the alien was there to steady her, or pull her back onto the branch. Then it continued on as though nothing had happened. Finally, the alien paused and beckoned her close. It smeared a sticky liquid on Juna’s back. When it was finished, it leaped across the gap, beckoning Juna to follow.

A cloud of brightly colored, loudly buzzing bees swarmed around Juna as soon as she landed on the next tree. Juna ducked and hid her head between her arms. These same bees had attacked her when she was out collecting specimens for the Survey. They had clustered so thickly on the face plate of her helmet that she couldn’t see to climb. This time, the insects merely hovered briefly and then buzzed off again.

The alien turned the bright red spurs on its wrists upward. The bees clustered on its arms. Looking closer, Juna saw a sticky, golden fluid oozing from its wrist spurs. The insects appeared to be feeding on the secretions. After a minute or two the alien gently shook its arms and the bees flew away.

Several other aliens sat on another branch, staring at Juna. Brilliant patterns rippled over their bodies. She looked back at them for a long moment. Then her guide brushed her shoulder with its knuckles and beckoned her on. She turned to follow, and stopped short in amazement, her exhaustion forgotten.