Scorpia’s fear is nothing compared to that of the Nibirans, so notoriously averse to alien technology. The council stands steady on the dock, though they murmur among themselves; they either knew what was coming, or are doing an incredible job of holding it together for the sake of their people. But the average Nibirans are not reassured by their leaders. Most of the waiting boats peel away from the area as fast as they can, and the crowd on shore backs up with panicked shouts. Soon, few remain other than us to await the new guests.

“What are you waiting for?” Drom snaps, turning away from the ship to look at us. She seems completely oblivious to the cause for shock. Despite the harshness in her tone, her eyes are brighter than I’ve seen them in weeks. She leans as far over the edge of the boat as she can get without falling into the water, as if half tempted to swim to shore herself. “Get to the docks!”

I steer us there.

The seven members of the Nibiran Council stand alone on the docks, with a half circle of peacekeepers at their backs. What’s left of the crowd is being dispersed by another group of peacekeepers, likely in expectation of trouble arising. My heart sinks at the sight of the perimeter they’re establishing. There’s no way we’ll be able to get up there and greet Pol. Once the Gaian refugees begin to emerge, we’ll be lucky if we can find him before morning. Just as I’m wondering if I have enough credits saved up to bribe our way onto the docks, one of the men at the front shifts, and reveals a familiar face that was hidden among the councillors.

Shey looks up at the same time I glance at her, and our eyes meet. Among the long robes of the Nibiran Council, she wears a stiff-shouldered, pale blue dress. The hood and the shoulders are Gaian fashion, though it flows long around her ankles and is cinched at the waist in the way Nibirans favor. She looks surprised, and not particularly pleased, to see me—but then her eyes slide past me to Scorpia, who still hasn’t noticed her. Her expression softens, and she tugs on the arm of a nearby councilman, standing up on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. He looks over at us and, after a brief hesitation, gestures for us to join them.

Hardly believing our luck, I steer us close and tie us to the dock.