We stop at the next intersection, then cross and push our way through a crowd of Officials leaving a restaurant. Once we’re two blocks from Threshold Tower, Victoria points at the lower-lying buildings that lie beyond it.

“Those are the residential sectors of the city. Apartments and parking garages, mostly.” She stops at the edge of the sidewalk and quizzes us while we wait for the road to clear. “Somebody tell me: what does Threshold Tower represent, and what is its purpose?”

“Ambassadors register incoming and outgoing expeditions there,” Michael says, breaking his silence. “Threshold symbolizes the forthcoming negotiations between planets.”

“Good,” Victoria praises. We cross the street and make our way to the last intersection. “Threshold has stood here since Standard year 4220.”

She points down the two streets angling away from the tower. They lead to Shield and Horizon, which stand more than twenty blocks away in both directions.

“The Crown held the Embassy’s skyline until Threshold’s construction. Up to that time, Undil functioned under the Standard Embassy Program, but has since shifted to the Modern Program. Only a handful of planets still operate under the Standard today. All the others adopted Undil’s three-branch design.”

Victoria walks across the last street and pulls us aside. Threshold Tower looms overhead, but I don’t see its main entrance.

“Who founded the Modern Embassy Program?” Victoria asks. Her eyes settle on me, and I’m glad I know the answer. “Arman?”

“Zacharias Slater after he visited Narviid in 4217,” I recite flawlessly.

“Correct. I had the pleasure of meeting Chancellor Slater a month before he passed away, the same year I joined the Embassy. He was the oldest man in the entire galaxy and saw the full success of his work. He dedicated his life to shaping the foundations we take for granted today.”

We pass Threshold Tower and walk into a building that’s labeled Threshold Entry Levels. Inside, cool air washes over my body and whisks away the sweat dangling from my nose and chin, leaving my skin satisfyingly itchy.

I look over and see John running his fingers through his hair, wiping away the sweat, and then he shakes his head back and forth, whipping his hair side-to-side. I cringe and turn my face the other way to avoid him.

“I’ll tell ya what,” he says loudly, “I am not looking forward to going back out there. No way, Josie.”

“José,” Ellin corrects quickly.

“I think they’re trying to weed us out,” John continues. “The weaklings from the survivors, you know? Whoever can’t handle the heat goes home.”

Victoria chuckles and looks back at him. “I can assure you that’s not how we run things around here.”