“Yes and no,” an officer says. I recognize him from Captain Crowe’s lab. “The compound used in the past was developed by Narviid. They were testing how Narvidian enzymes would react to foreign environments.”

“I see. Thank you.”

He jots down a note, then sits back and waits for another question.

“Narviid has been expanding its space industry and biological endeavors,” Officer Remmit says next. “As I understand it, they successfully catalyzed the growth of biological organisms where life otherwise could not exist, particularly the sterile rocky regions of Narviid. Of course, Daliona was a major partner in those experiments. “When the tests began to result in Belvun’s deterioration, Narviid ceased all foreign experimentation.”

Officer Remmit finishes his explanation and looks to Orcher.

“Are there any more questions?” Orcher asks. No one moves. “You may continue, Ambassador.”

That’s how the conference goes. Michael reads through the treatise—eighteen sections of varying length—and Orcher asks for questions at the end of each. Discussions range from the quantities of samples, to sensitive locations, to Daliona’s current Faustocine supply. Michael takes notes whenever someone makes a suggestion so he knows what to address in his edits. If the Faustocine yields positive results, the compound will eventually be injected into environments with human residents to halt the growth of the desert and prevent it from overtaking populated areas, which has happened in the past.

Through the conference, I throw Glacia glances to see if she’ll look back. But her attention is mostly split between Michael and the panel, and her head hangs lower and lower. She’s exhausted. An hour in, I look up and see her slumped on the desk.

“Excuse me, Ambassador.”

My heart practically stops. Captain Fallsten has everyone’s attention now. She motions at Glacia, who didn’t move.

“One of our crew has decided now would be a splendid time to take her afternoon nap. Am I right, Miss Haverns?” Glacia still doesn’t stir. Captain Fallsten stands and slaps the table. “Miss Haverns!”

The officer next to Glacia prods her arm and jerks his head at Captain Fallsten. When they meet eyes, Glacia’s face loses all its color.

“Perhaps you should sit with me for the remainder of the conference.”

Captain Fallsten snaps her fingers at the officer beside her. He stands and moves to a seat farther down the table. Glacia pushes herself up and walks to Captain Fallsten, who doesn’t sit back down until after Glacia does. I don’t dare look over.

“Continue, Ambassador.”

Michael’s eyes flick over at Orcher, whose mouth has gone rigid. He clears his throat and nods for Michael to resume the presentation.