The youngmeen had buil the nodes, but it was to the women that they delivered the product of their labors. Except for Cornucopia's central office deep in the Ternian forest, in the warm underground wood-furnished root centers sprinkled all across the planets, the word went out to the young women, briefed by the Ternian Elder, that they should come. And they came in their scores and hundreds, each to her assigned place, borne from the deep forests by the docile lammbrui, or coming on foot, two or three of them to each of the deep sheltered control points of the planetary network. Some bore lutes and some bore zithers, some brought dulcimers and some tambourines. A few bore the peculiar polished mahogony mouth reed instruments for which Tern was famous, the Ternian mouth harp withits delicate hand carved reeds and plates. But all of them bore as well her share of the treasury from the capital, a portion of the Lomaxion repository.

Cornucopia and his assistant again burned the midnight oils at one of the far flung labs of the Institute, and on the dawn of their third days, Rosetta shook the dozing agent, bearing yet another bowl of hot rootjuice to keep him nopurished and stimulated.

"Cornucopia! Wake up!" she said sioftly and urgently. He shook his head and gazed blurrily at her warm, rough-featured and intelligent voice, noticing her gentle figure and her bright sparkle of lucid determination.

"Wha...What's up?? DIsneys back????" he leapt groggily to his feet.

"No, no!!" she laughed "Come!" And she led him down the hall to the lab where the rolypoly bio-scientist was beaming down at a planting bed. Four small plants beamed back at him, as much as plants can beam. Like sunflowers, they had large nodding round heads lined with delicate leaves. Unlike their remote Terran ancestors, they had small air-sacs lining the back of their round faces, and unusual flytrap-like orifices on the outer surface. Although fixed in their basic shape, the agent would have sworn these plants were smiling. At least, there was a cheerful, celebratory atmosphere in the lab, and he sensed he was about to find out why.

"This mister contains a distillate of a certain strain of the seed DNA we showed your father," the lab genius explained. "Watch this!"

He sprayed a small cloud from the mister over the nodding heads of the four plants and then hastily held up one hand for silence. In less than three seconds the heads began to nod in unison. The small openings on their faces began to shift and change forms minutely. From where he stood, Cornucopia could see the airsacs on the back of two of the plant's faces swelling and contracting. Then the singing began -- soft, high-pitched, but absolutely true to the ancient original on which the agent and his brother had been weaned as children.

This land is your land
This land is my land
From the open ocean
To the Ternian highland
From the redwood forests
To the river's waters
This land was made for you and me....

The harmony was perfect, the voices whole though thin. Cornucopia's jaw dropped as he realized the implications of what he was seeing.

A broad smile crossed his tired face.