Glorious green swords dappled in ivory and strawberry creamsicle canopied around the fleshy trunk. Fingerlike aerial roots grasped the huge moss pole piercing the pot’s middle. A few indigo roots intertwined with its own tender blush stalks. A sweet scent redolent with notes of cantaloupe and vanilla hugged the sharp leaves and beaconed Maddie closer.

“It’s … incredible, Star,” Maddie said in a hushed whisper admiring the bright tangle. “Even more beautiful than the pictures.”

“Whatever, Mom,” Star said.

Maddie walked up to the conservatory’s red velvet rope. Eyes closed, she inhaled. Snorting, Star went back to her phone. First there was the pink princess philo. Her mother had dragged her up to a storage rental place parking lot to buy a cutting from a guy in a trenchcoat for fifty bucks. Then it was a Thai Constellation Monstera. Her mom had to have one. Star went with her mom to seventeen nurseries until her mom scored a dinky little plant in the ass end of Chester County. Now it was Jupiter Hurricane.

Star surveyed her mom’s latest plant obsession. Sinewy neon petals with sticky garnet tentacles, the flowers reminded Star of a tie dyed chtulu. The Chandler line, nasty things their flesh is too much like th flesh of men, ran through her head. Star shivered violently.

“Do you smell that? They only bloom at night for one night, but their scent lingers. It’s incredible,” Maddie said. "This is so cool, baby. Three of these beauties were found in a remote jungle in Papua New Guinea near a meteor crash. Three! They are debating still which species they belong to. I think it’s a mutated Cattleya some kind of monstrose form but it’s possible—are you even listening?”

“Creepy orchid from outer space, right,” Star said without looking up from her phone.

“The Jupiter Hurricane is a newly discovered species. We are looking at a sliver of exotic jungle in our own backyard. And you are watching TikTok.”

“It’s a plant. You got two hundred of these weeds in every corner of our apartment, Mom. Besides I’m writing a flash fiction on first contact between dumb violent humans and smart violent aliens. Are we done here? I want to check out the Mediterrean section. The benches are warm. Ready?”

"They are nearly impossible to propagate by seed. Conditions have to be precise, but the plant itself is hardy and will tolerate a wide range climes. Near freezing to tropical rainforest. They can grow on trees, in pots, in water, on rocks, soilless. Full sun to shade as long as they get bugs or hamburger. They are hydrophilic carnivores,” Maddie droned on.

Star rolled her eyes. She had read about tulipmania, the craze to buy flower bulbs that rocked the world. Her mother was bananas, Star thought, but her mother was her nutcase. Star raised her phone pretending to take a selfie. Her big coat blocked the Jupiter Hurricane from the conservatory’s surveillance camera. Looking left and right, Maddie stepped over the rope. She whipped out a ziplock bag and a pair of sterilized scissors. One snip later, the mother and daughter were heading away from the Jupiter Hurricane.

“Hey mom wouldn’t it cool if instead of little grey men aliens came down as plants. We would sow our own destruction one creepy space orchid at a time. Pushing our alien overlords to the far corners of the planet in pink plastic pots on grocery store shelves and Home Depots,” Star said. “Don’t laugh. I think it’s a spooky idea.”

“Who’s laughing? I’m worried about doing this tissue culture. If this works, we will make a fortune on the green black market. Those thai monsteras went for 500 bucks a pop until the market bottomed out. These will be $5000 for a node, guaranteed.”

Looking back for one last glimpse of the Jupiter Hurricane, Star had the weird sensation of being watched. A group of plant enthusiasts were admiring the lush plant. An irresistibly sweet scent began to fill the orchid room. Shaking her head, Star followed her mother.