"Thanks, that's brilliant," and he will check in on them every ten days, now that they have demonstrated an inability to take care of their own health, haven't they, and drag them outside for deep sea diving and hang gliding and laser tag, which he excels at, and they picnic and sing and laugh at human movies when no one's up for high-intensity sports. And at one point he interrupts them and gets vaguely concerning news.
"So," he tells Edie and Cam and Maitimo downstairs, "found a world with not-quite-strictly better tech than ours, the biological weapons team's apparently been stealing from them for a while but it's just now someone from our Arda got a look at the tech catalogues and realized what they meant.
They carry human babies to term in these things called uterine replicators, abolished pregnancy ages ago. Which, good on them, really, but -"