For one disorienting moment I half expect my mother to answer, but finally I remember the title refers to me. I turn toward the speaker, eyebrows lifting as I see a uniformed Gaian officer coming toward me. It takes me a moment to recognize the tall woman: Yvette Zinne, head of President Leonis’s security, and the woman who arrested me and dragged me to jail back on Gaia. It feels like a lifetime ago, but I definitely remember her face. I throw on a strained smile as she stops a few feet in front of me. For a moment, she studies me, her expression difficult to read. And then, slowly, she holds her arms out, palms up, and bows her head to me.

I’m too shocked to react for a moment. I honestly might not have recognized this gesture if Shey hadn’t shown it to me back on the ship. This grim-faced Gaian officer, part of the president’s personal security, is formally apologizing to me. Or asking forgiveness. I’ve already forgotten the difference between the gestures, if there even really is one.

“I wish to express my deep gratitude and respect for saving my people and bringing peace to us all,” she says, not breaking the pose. “And to apologize for underestimating you.”

“I, uh…” I glance around, seeking Shey or someone else who can help me respond in a proper manner, but no one comes to my aid. I clear my throat, rubbing the back of my neck with one hand. “Thanks? I don’t know how to, uh, do this, but… I accept.”

Zinne lowers her hands and straightens up, meeting my eyes again.

“I’ve been looking after your brother personally,” she says. “Both at Shey’s request and out of personal gratitude.”

My breath catches in my throat.

“Is he…?” I start, not even sure where the sentence is going. “Where?”

She smiles.

“Wait here,” she says, and heads back to the ship.

I stay exactly where I am, shifting from foot to foot and craning my neck to see past the sea of Gaian politicians and Nibiran council members crowding around me on the dock. My heart thuds painfully.

I would hardly recognize Pol if not for the fact that Zinne is escorting him. He leans heavily on a pair of crutches as he moves toward us, sweat beading on his forehead and arms shaking from the effort. He pauses on the edge of the dock to catch his breath while Zinne waits patiently at his side. A moment later, he looks up and breaks into a grin. I follow his gaze to see Corvus standing a few yards away from him.

I push through the crowd until I find Drom, and tug on her arm. She’s still searching the crowd, her brow furrowed, no doubt looking for someone quite a bit larger.

“What, what?” she asks, brushing my hand off. “Quit yanking at me.”

“Look, idiot.”