Iago felt like a new man as he walked towards the Craton‘s boarding ramp.

His arm encircled Cassandra’s shoulders, and Elliot hugged her leg, his own excitement almost uncontainable.

He was talking to her, telling her about his schooling, his friends, the trouble he often got into.

“. . . they get really upset when I kick the ball off the hydroponics towers,” he added.

“Maybe,” Cassandra said, tousling his hair, “You should stop doing that?”

“It’s helping me learn geometry! I can get some really sick angles, and I only knock off a few leaves!”

Cassandra laughed, and Iago felt his heart swell.

An officer stepped up to him as they came to the ramp. He was smiling.

“Identification, please?”

“Iago Caraval,” he told the man, sending his data. “And my son Elliot and my . . .”

His words faded, and he swallowed, the enormity of it all hitting him again.

“. . . my wife Cassandra.”

The officer scanned Elliot’s data, but then frowned. “I’m not getting any signal from your wife,” he said.

“I am afraid I don’t have a system,” she told him.

The officer looked surprised, but Iago only smiled. “I have an override . . .”

His words trailed away as he realized that he did not have an override code. He was not a Response officer anymore . . .

“You know what,” he said. “Call Lt. Commander Pirra. She’ll vouch for us.”

The officer frowned and nodded. He stepped away, his hand going up to his ear as he made the call.

“Are you sure they’ll let me on?” Cassandra asked.

Iago felt like nothing could stop him now. “Absolutely,” he said. “I’ve known Pirra for years. You’ve met her, too . . .”

Cassandra nodded, looking a little relieved, but concern still creased her face. “I wish I remembered more,” she said.

“You will,” he told her. “Dr. Y can help you, or maybe just going back to your old life will help.”

Fear crossed her face at the mention of Y, and Iago decided he would not press that option.

He didn’t need to, anyway. It would all be fine, he felt sure.

His hand slipped down to his pocket, feeling the small bulge of the packet that Dr. Zyzus had given him.

“You must take one of these seeds each week,” the man had told him before he’d left. “They will help you feel calm. Your mind has undergone severe shocks in recent times, and it struggles to adapt. What comes is joyous, Iago, I assure you. But you cannot take it on all at once. What your mind has experienced thus far would break a lesser man.”

He had pressed the bag of seeds into his hand. “Grind them up into a paste, cross them over your brow and onto your tongue. They will give your mind the time it needs to adjust to its new understanding.”

“What about when I run out?”

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Zyzus had smiled. “By then you will no longer need them.”

Yes, Iago thought. Now he had all he would need going forward.

Down the ramp he saw three new figures appear – Pirra, flanked by two Response officers.

He raised his arm, waving to her and smiling.

Pirra’s eyes widened as she saw him, and she increased her pace.

Stepping forward, Iago opened his arms to her.

“Iago,” she whistled as she came up, and Iago embraced her.

He felt her pull back in surprise, but then relax and let out a whistling laugh. Her crest showed her agitation and concern, but he brushed it off, letting her go and stepping back.

“Iago,” she repeated, “I’m glad you’ve come back, but . . . who is this?” she asked, gesturing to Cassandra.

“She’s my wife,” he said. “You know her. You met.”

Pirra looked fully at Cassandra, studying her. Her crest did something Iago had never seen it do before; it trembled.

She looked back to him. “Iago . . . Cassandra’s dead.”

Iago felt much of his joy melt away.

“I thought so too,” he said. “But here she is. You recognize her, don’t you?”

Pirra’s crest fell and rose quickly. “Yes . . . yes, this person does look like her. But I don’t understand how . . .” She looked at Cassandra again, her eyes focusing on the woman. “Is it really you . . . ?”

Cassandra nodded, her cheeks flushing. She looked down. “It was a miracle of the Infinite,” she said softly. “I remember only a little – images, really.”

She raised her head. “But I remember you, Pirra. Seeing you . . . I can remember the green of your feathers, how bright your eyes were.”

Pirra blinked, stepping back, putting a hand to her face and looking thoughtful.

“I don’t think we have precedent for this,” she admitted.

“You can grant an access override,” Iago told her. “You can just use your Response Privilege Code to let her onto the ship. After she’s on we can get her a system and get everything sorted and it’ll all be fine.”

“We can’t do that until we know for sure who she is . . .” Pirra said.

Iago felt anger rise in him, and he leaned forward. “Pirra, I’m telling you who she is. You recognize her. Don’t make this a problem when it doesn’t need to be.”

Pirra shifted, holding her ground. “Iago, this is not a personal insult. We have to confirm who she is or else she can’t go into the habitation areas-“

“No!” he snapped. Fury burst out of him like steam from a geyser; his vision felt like it was turning red. After all he had lost, all he had sacrificed, would they really not let him have something good when it had come to him?

“What’s going on here?” he heard a calm and familiar voice say.

Pirra looked past him, and he turned, to see Captain Brooks, Commander Urle, and Ambassador Kell standing behind them.

----------------------------------------

Brooks had seen the altercation as they had approached and increased his speed to get there sooner.

He had heard Iago burst out his angry refusal, heard Pirra’s calmness, and now that they stared at him, he finally noticed the newcomer.

Or, really, the old face.

“Cassandra?” he said, eyes widening.

“Yes, Captain,” she said. “I am alive.”

Brooks’s eyes went to Iago, asking without speaking.

“I don’t know Captain. But she is alive, and we just . . . we want to come back onto the ship.”

“It was a miracle of the Infinite,” Cassandra said.

Urle’s eyes snapped to her at that, but he did not speak.

“Captain, she doesn’t have a system,” Pirra said. “I’ve been trying to tell Mr. Caraval that we have to confirm her identity.”

“Have you tried a DNA test?” Brooks asked.

“I had not yet gotten the chance, sir.”

Brooks nodded. “Order it done. If that confirms her identity, then we will allow her a provisional boarding pass-“

“Sir-!” Iago protested.

Brooks stared at him. “. . . until we can use other methods to confirm her identity. Hopefully within a day or two she can once again be a permanent member of the ship’s population.”

Iago went, in a heartbeat, back to pleasant. He rubbed the back of his head. “My apologies, Captain. I’m a little keyed up.”

“It seems so,” Brooks said. “Perhaps understandably.”

Pirra spoke. “I have ordered the test. The drone will be here in a moment.”

“Good. While your ID is provisional, Cassandra, I imagine you won’t mind if you have a drone following you?” Brooks asked her.

“No, that is all right,” she said.

Urle cleared his throat and looked to Kell. “Ambassador . . . do you have an opinion on this situation?” he asked.

All eyes went to Kell, but the being did not seem to be really looking at any of them – or anything. His eyes were glazed over.

He said nothing, and Urle leaned closer.

“Ambassador? Are you all right-“

“No,” Kell said brusquely, suddenly. “I have no opinion. Excuse me.”

He stepped through the group, passing onto the ship.

Urle let out a breath.

Brooks gestured him on. “Go to a debriefing room, I’ll meet you there shortly.”

“Aye, sir.”

Brooks waited until the medical drone arrived. Cassandra nervously held her hand out to it, and it merely touched her lightly.

It pinged quickly.

“Identify match. This is Mary Cassandra Caraval,” it chirped.

Brooks was not sure what to make of this, but looking over the woman, over Elliot and Iago . . .

He could not think of a reasosn to stop this.

“All right,” he said. “Welcome back, Cassandra.”

Iago beamed, and Pirra frowned, her crest flat. She stepped aside to let them through.