I found a public garden.
Of course I did.
Rows of red flowers grew along a shallow artificial stream.
Not Zared’s redflowers.
Probably.
Still red.
I sat on a stone bench.
For once, no one needed anything from me.
No registry.
No commander.
No frightened survivor.
No Earth search.
Just me.
What did I want?
Home.
That answer remained immediate.
Earth.
My parents.
My brother.
Cherry Street.
A trash can I would never complain about again.
But Earth was not available.
Not yet.
So what came next?
Halor was safe.
Farseek was dangerous.
Halor offered stability.
Farseek offered war.
Halor needed nothing from me.
Farseek did.