Once we find a decent spot in the harbor, I halt and lower the boat so it rests on the surface of the water, rocking gently with the movement of the waves.

The docks are crowded with eager, upturned faces and the ocean is dotted with vessels like ours. I was worried there would be tension in the air, uncertainty about these new arrivals and what they’ll mean for the planet, but instead people are drunk and dancing and happy. The steady beat of music and a variety of mouth-watering scents drift over the waters, along with excited whispers about the arrival of the “aliens,” as the Nibirans are calling them.

Despite the atmosphere, my heart is hammering in my chest now that we’re here. I’m nervous about what the arrival of the Gaians will mean for this planet, how the system’s first intermingling of two cultures will turn out after so many years of distrust and hatred—but mostly, I’m afraid to see Pol again. A few days ago, a note from Shey informed us that he would be arriving with the first wave of Gaians today. Though she didn’t say as much, I suspect she fought her mother for it.

“Not sure what they’re so excited about,” Lyre murmurs, though she looks to the sky along with all the Nibirans on the shore. “Gaians aren’t really all that thrilling.”

“Scorpia might disagree,” Drom mumbles, the joke coming out half-hearted at best.

Half-hearted or not, it hits home enough for Scorpia to flip her off from the boat’s floor. Drom doesn’t notice; she’s leaning over the side to skim her fingers along the water, her eyes distant.

“Rumors have been passing among the fisherfolk that the Gaians have webbed feet, or green-tinted skin.” I gaze out at the crowds of eager people. “Think they’ll be disappointed when they find out the ‘aliens’ look the same as them?”

“To be fair,” Scorpia says, speaking up for the first time since we left home, “if anyone in the system can be called aliens, it’s the Gaians.”

I laugh, and she grins up at me. Whatever mood’s been hanging over her seems to have lightened, at least for now. And she’s sober, as far as I can tell.

“Mostly I’m disappointed I don’t get to witness how scared the Gaians on that ship must be,” I say. “So many off-worlders waiting on the other side… it’s their worst nightmare.”

“They must be shaking in their boots,” Scorpia says, and then sits up with a gasp. “Holy shit. I never realized it. They’re the off-worlders now. Forever.” She cackles. “Sweet, sweet justice.”