Chapter Two
Alex
The Council chamber is even more imposing the second time. Maybe because this time I know they're going to disappoint me. Again.
I sit in the petitioner's chair—a deliberately uncomfortable piece of furniture positioned to make you look up at the Council members like you're a kid in the principal's office.
Tev'ra stands beside me, his professional diplomat face on, which means this is going to go exactly as badly as I expect.
"Mr. Park," Councilor Kav'eth begins, his skin doing that formal swirling thing that probably means 'official business.' "We have conveyed your request to the researcher in question."
I lean forward, gripping the armrests. "And?"
"They have been fully informed of your wish to meet, your lack of anger, and your desire to express gratitude."
"Okay..." I wait for more, but Kav'eth just watches me with those unblinking golden eyes. "So when do I get to meet them?"
"That is entirely the researcher's decision. If they choose to accept your invitation, they will contact you directly."
Not a flat no, but not a yes either. Just... nothing.
"That's it? That's all you're going to tell me?
" I stand up, needing to move, to do something with the frustrated energy building in my chest. The chamber is circular, with walls that seem to pulse with a subtle bioluminescence of their own.
I pace to the curved window that overlooks the city—all flowing architecture and water features that remind me I'm definitely not on Earth anymore.
"Mr. Park, please return to your seat."
"Why?" I turn back to face him. "So I can sit there like a good little human while you tell me I can't thank the person who saved my life?"
Tev'ra makes a small noise—could be a suppressed laugh, could be a warning. I ignore it and keep pacing. The floor beneath my feet has a subtle give to it, like it's designed to be walked on by creatures who spend half their time in water.
"This person kept me alive for three days while my body went through hell. Three days. And you're telling me they won't even let me say thank you?"
"Your gratitude has been conveyed through appropriate channels."
"Through bureaucratic channels? That's bullshit." I kick the base of the petitioner's chair, which accomplishes nothing except making my foot hurt. The thing is apparently made of some alien material that's harder than it looks.
"Mr. Park—"
"What if I promise not to pressure them?" I plant myself in front of Kav'eth's elevated seat, looking up at him like I'm making a business deal. "What if I sign something saying I won't pursue them if they don't want to meet? I'll respect their decision, whatever it is."
Kav'eth shifts slightly, and three other Council members lean in from their seats around the chamber's curve. They're all watching me with those golden eyes that never quite blink at the right times.
"Your promises have been included in the communication," Kav'eth says.
"So that's it? I just wait and hope?" I spread my arms wide, gesturing at the whole ridiculous formal chamber. "Look, I get it. Your researcher fucked up. Grabbed a human teenager instead of whatever they were supposed to grab. Probably violated a dozen protocols. I don't care."
One of the other Council members—skin more green-tinted than Kav'eth's blue—makes a harmonious sound that might be disapproval.
"I've been sober for ten years because of those three days," I continue, my voice echoing off the curved walls. "Ten years. I went from a kid who was maybe three weeks from dying in an alley to someone with a life, a career, friends. Don't I deserve to at least say thank you face to face?"
"We understand your position—"
"I seriously doubt that." The sarcasm comes out sharp enough to cut.
I lean against the window, my reflection overlapping with the alien city beyond.
"Have you ever had your entire life trajectory changed by someone you can't even identify?
Have you ever spent a decade thinking you hallucinated the most important thing that ever happened to you? "
Silence fills the chamber. Even the subtle background hum of alien technology seems to pause. Kav'eth's skin patterns slow, shifting to something more deliberate.
"The researcher is aware of the significance of their actions," he says finally. "The impact on your life has been... extensively communicated. The decision to meet or not meet rests entirely with them."
"And if they choose not to?"
"Then you will need to find closure without that meeting."
The words sting more than they should. I push off from the window, walking back toward the exit. "Just... tell them thank you. Tell them the boy they saved is okay. More than okay."
I pause at the threshold. "Tell them I'm not angry. I'm not looking for apologies or explanations. I just wanted to say thank you." I pause before turning back to look at the council one more time. "And tell them if they ever change their mind, I'll be here. However long it takes."
Outside the Council chamber, the corridors are a maze of curved walls and soft lighting that seems to come from the structure itself. Tev'ra catches up with me as I'm trying to figure out which direction leads to the exit.
"This way," he says, guiding me left at an intersection that looks identical to the three we've already passed.
We walk in silence through what must be the government district.
Other Nereidans pass us, their skin colors ranging from deep purple to pale green, all of them moving with that fluid grace that makes me feel clumsy and too solid.
Some stare at me—the human novelty—but most are too polite or too busy to gawk.
"This is such bullshit," I mutter as we exit onto a platform overlooking the city.
The air here is humid, mineral rich, with an underlying sweetness I can't identify.
Multiple levels of walkways connect buildings that seem to grow from the water itself, and everywhere there's the sound of flowing water.
"The agricultural district has excellent viewing platforms," Tev'ra says, apparently apropos of nothing.
He gestures toward a transport pod that's just arriving at the platform—a smooth, organic-looking vehicle that moves on tracks I can barely see.
"The water is particularly clear today. Many find the view of the zhik'ra forests calming. "
I look at him suspiciously. "Are you trying to distract me with seaweed?"
"I am suggesting that if one were frustrated and needed to think, the observation platforms near the cultivation zones provide an excellent location for contemplation.
" We step into the transport pod, which adjusts its interior configuration to accommodate both human and Nereidan passengers.
"Section C is especially peaceful this time of day. "
Section C. That's oddly specific.
"Right," I say slowly, gripping the rail as the pod accelerates smoothly.
Through the transparent walls, I watch the city blur past—markets where Nereidans trade things I can't identify, children playing in fountains that seem to defy gravity, gardens where plants glow with their own light.
"I guess I could use some air. Water. Whatever. "
Tev'ra's skin brightens in what I'm starting to recognize might be amusement. "The transport will take you directly there. I must return to Finn now."
"Tell him I'm fine," I say as Tev'ra exits at the next platform. "Just need to walk it off."
He gives me what might be a knowing look—hard to tell with the alien facial structure—and then I'm alone in the pod as it continues toward the agricultural district.
The observation platform in Section C is exactly as calming as advertised, if your idea of calming is standing over an alien ocean watching purple seaweed sway in the current while your mind races with frustration.
The platform itself is a work of art—carved from something that looks like white coral but feels smooth under my hands.
It extends maybe twenty feet over the water, with organic-looking railings that are just the right height for leaning on.
Below, the zhik'ra forest is visible through crystal-clear water that shifts from turquoise near the surface to deep indigo where the plants disappear into darkness.
I've been here maybe twenty minutes, watching farmers in the distance tend to their sections, when I hear footsteps on the platform behind me. They're hesitant, stopping and starting like someone's arguing with themselves about approaching.
"You look older."
I turn to find a Nereidan standing at the platform's edge, not quite approaching.
He's wearing simple gray coveralls that look like they're standard issue for something, and his skin is doing this rapid shifting thing between blue and gold that makes me think of anxiety even though I can't read the patterns yet.
There's something about the way he said it—not like an observation but like a confirmation. Like he's comparing me to a memory.
"Yeah," I say, tilting my head to study him. He's tall even for a Nereidan, probably seven feet, but there's something uncertain in his posture. "Ten years will do that to a person."
His skin flashes brighter, and I see his hands clench and unclench at his sides. That's when I know.
"It's you," I breathe. "You're the researcher."
He takes a half-step back, his whole body tensing like he might bolt. "I... yes."
"Don't run." I keep my voice calm, raising my hands slowly like I'm trying not to spook a wild animal. "Please. I've been trying to find you since I got here."
"There is no anger?" He sounds genuinely confused, taking another small step backward. His skin is cycling through colors so fast it's almost dizzying. "No pain? No recriminations?"