"How exactly did she end the last one?"

"Teleportation and the ability to survive everything they threw at us. We were expecting it to take more than that, but we got lucky. Once it was obviously impossible to kill us, their entire society fell apart at the seams and the Cult of the Destroyer took over and got rid of all the unsustainable moral imperatives."

"Cult of the Destroyer. What an evocative name."

"As doomsday cults go it's certainly the most efficient and practical one I've ever seen."

"Not a metric on which they are typically ranked."

"No," he agrees.

Most countries, including the big two, agree to an arrangement where individuals under the auspices of the Interstellar Hygiene and Safety Commission who are appropriately careful about reds may sponsor small numbers of nonessential relocations to Ceir or Aluvanna, and allow visits to their Spheres by larger numbers of nonemigrating citizens at their discretion.

Dalvor calls for volunteers and sets up a thoroughly efficient system for getting every interested person on the planet into and out of a Sphere as fast as possible. The volunteers are divided into one group who will be handling reds and another, larger group who will be handling everyone else.

Every winged member of the Kevarsin family volunteers. Ashras goes for the red group.

A Commission representative comes through first to distribute explanatory pamphlets and answer any questions from the locals. These are the effects of the wing contagion! Here is what you may expect if you get your wings! The volunteer from Suranse will be here at thus-and-such a time, and the intake portal will go here and the outflow portal will go there, and all parties interested in potentially acquiring wings are to form a queue and step into the intake portal and walk through to the outflow portal in an orderly fashion!

The volunteer from Suranse arrives early. He sets up his portals at the marked locations, ten feet apart in the middle of this small plaza, and then stands in between them swishing his tail and listening to the Commission representative's earnest reassurances about the safety of the procedure.

In the second story of one of the nicest houses in the neighborhood there is an open window and a pink-haired young woman with a baby sitting by it.

"Fucking self-righteous aliens, yeah, sure," she mutters, "stop the war, that won't have any unintended consequences, make people immortal like that'll help when they take her -"

...That sounds like a problem. His tail stills; his ears swivel in her direction.

"Weh," says the baby.

"It's ok- it'll be - shhh," says the pink haired girl.

"WAH."

"Shh we'll think of something baby we'll think of something and then it won't matter what the fucking aliens do."

...yeah.

He walks over to stand under the window. "Excuse me," he calls up to her, "do you know anyone who'd like to emigrate?"

"- are you asking me, sir?"

"Yes."

"I'm not sure I understand the requirements sir."

"The emigration requirements? The magic word is 'nonessential'. My personal sponsorship allowance covers up to two adults and three children, but I have family members who haven't used theirs yet."

"- and then where do you take us -"

"Aluvanna, initially, but I can get you diverted to one of the Ceirene farming villages without much trouble if you're very fond of sunlight."

"I like how I look pale. - how's this work with child credits -"

"There are no population controls in human territory, we've got rather the opposite problem; once you're offplanet, child credits stop being a thing you have to worry about."

"I want to go and bring my baby."

"Happy to oblige. My name is Ashras Kevarsin, what's yours?"

"Peka Atan and this is Katin."

"Lovely to meet you both. I can take you home with me this afternoon once I'm done sending the neighbourhood through my Sphere, if that suits."