"A'Vanti." L'Forn's voice is welcoming. He gestures to an empty chair near the middle of the table. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."
I take the indicated seat, my pulse quickening. Whatever this meeting is about, it's clearly significant. One doesn't assemble the leadership for trivial matters.
"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here," L'Forn begins. He studies me for a moment before continuing. "I'll be direct. We have news about Ceraste."
I go very still.
"As you know," L'Forn continues, "after Diamalla's defeat, we began the process of decontaminating our world."
Queen Diamalla had poisoned our entire planet with reshen until it was saturated in the soil and water. A civilization of millions reduced to a few thousand refugees. Ceraste was rendered so toxic that even liberating our people couldn't give us back our home. I remember those early days after my liberation – the grief that swept through the survivors when we learned the full extent of what she had done.
"For some time, full decontamination was considered impossible. The reshen had penetrated the soil and water tables to such a degree that we weren't sure our technology could fully neutralize it. But our scientists did not give up." L'Forn glances at L'Zaen, who inclines his head. "Premier Sator, working alongside L'Zaen, Ally, and our human colleagues, were able to develop a compound to nullify it. Over the last several months, robots were deployed to implement the treatment across the planet's surface."
"The neutralization compound worked." L'Forn glances at L'Zaen, who inclines his head. "The robots have completed the treatment across the planet's surface. Every trace of reshen has been eliminated." His expression softens. "Ceraste is no longer deadly to us."
My heart is pounding now. "You're saying we can go back?"
I grip the edge of the table, steadying myself.
"Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying." L'Forn leans forward. "The planet is safe, but it is not yet livable. Much of the infrastructure has fallen into disrepair. The cities are in ruins. Everything our people built over millennia will need to be rebuilt from nothing."
"What about Earth?" I ask, my mind racing. "Our alliance with the humans?"
"We have no intention of abandoning our relationship with humanity," L'Forn assures me. "Our ships will remain in orbit. We are still working toward the day when we can settle on Earth's surface, but it requires much patience. Trust must be built slowly. In the meantime, we see an opportunity to pursue both goals, strengthen our ties with humanity while also reclaiming our ancestral home."
"And the longer we wait," General D'Annon cuts in, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder, "the more our cities will deteriorate. Weather, time, and neglect – they take their toll. If we want to salvage what remains of our infrastructure, we need to move soon."
L'Zaen nods. "We are proposing an expedition. A small team of Cerasteans and humans to travel to Ceraste and assess what needs to be done to rehabilitate the main capital city. To determine what resources will be required, what challenges we will face."
"An important first step," L'Forn agrees. "And that is why you are here, A'Vanti."
I blink. "Me?"
"You are an architect," L'Forn says. "One of the few remaining Cerasteans with the training and vision to rebuild what we've lost. Your skills will be essential to this mission."
The magnitude of it washes over me. The chance to return to Ceraste, to walk the streets of my destroyed home and see what remains of everything we lost, was nothing more than a dream before.
"Yes." The word comes out before I've fully processed it, but I don't take it back. "Yes, I'll help. Of course I'll help."
L'Forn's expression brightens with approval. "I had hoped you would say that. The expedition is still in the planning stages, but we've assembled a preliminary list of participants." He taps on the screen of his tablet, and a moment later, my own device chimes with an incoming file. "Review the list when you have a chance and let me know if you have any recommendations for others we might not have considered. Your insight would be valuable."
I pull up the file, my eyes scanning the names – scientists, engineers, agricultural specialists, security personnel, medical staff. I note the absences as quickly as the inclusions. No Paige, of course not. She is nearly six months along now, and L'Awai would sooner fly himself into a star than let his pregnant mate travel to a planet with no functioning power or medical facilities. I will miss her. Her humor and her heart have been a steadying presence these past months. But this is not a journey for someone carrying a child.
And then, near the bottom of the list:Cody Johnson, pilot, human.
My heart trips over itself.
I keep my face neutral, my emotions locked away where no one can see them, but inside, a feeling dangerously close to joy, like relief, unfurls in my chest.
"The list looks great to me," I say, and my voice doesn't waver at all. "I don't have any immediate recommendations, but I'll give it more thought."
L'Forn nods. "Take your time. We'll have a follow-up meeting next week to finalize the details."
The rest of the meeting passes in a blur of logistics and timelines. I participate when called upon, ask appropriate questions, and make notes on my tablet, but part of my mind is elsewhere: on Ceraste, on home, on Cody.
I don't know what it means, or what I want it to mean.
When the meeting finally adjourns, I rise with the others, my mind already drifting toward my quarters, toward the book waiting on my desk and the thoughts I'm not ready to examine.
