As she looked into his fiery eyes, she could see nothing but loathing. What happened to him? She rounded the back of the ATV, Peterson came around the front, his back to the field of Europhids. It was at that moment that Choi noticed his eye color perfectly matched the red hue of the field.

No…

Peterson seemed to notice the change in expression on her face. He stopped his advance and took on a very unnatural stance. "I understand what you are thinking."

Choi didn't say a word. The voice sounded vaguely like Peterson's, but it wasn't him speaking. Like he was possessed.

Controlled.

"How did we…get inside his mind?" Peterson twisted his lips with an expression that was a poor imitation of deep thought. "The world…all you see…was created by me. By us. All of us. Me. Do you understand?"

Choi stood her ground, but slowly moved her hand to the side of the ATV storage trailer.

"I have seen what he has seen…this Michael Peterson. I know what he knows. You are not my children and you are not welcome here."

Choi slid her hand inside the trailer. "Why are we not welcome?"

"You are a contamination."

Choi shuddered. Whatever had possessed Peterson saw them the way humanity viewed disease, germs, bacteria—the enemy, who could be wiped out without any moral qualms. To the unknown denizens of this moon, they were the foreign invaders, they were the disease.

"We only want to understand you."

"Ironic, that in taking this mind," Peterson said as he motioned to his own head, "I now fully understand who I am."

Choi waited.

"I am the father of this world. I am the defender, the protector. I give life and I take life."

A growing apprehension about what and who she was speaking to began to churn a stew of vomit deep inside Choi. She was accustomed to the microscopic world; an enemy that could not speak. What she experienced now felt entirely unnatural. It felt wrong.

It felt evil.

With the next words out of Peterson's mouth, she knew it was.

"I am that I am," Peterson said.

The words shot through Choi's mind like a bullet and came to a stop at a memory from four years ago. During a weekend excursion to visit in old friend in Montrose, California, she had visited a church with an old friend. The sermon was on the calling of Moses and how he had resisted God's call to save the Hebrews from their Egyptian masters. She remembered the words, "I am that I am," from that story. God had spoken them to Moses, identifying himself as God, the great I am.

And now, Peterson, under the control of…something, had identified himself word for word, as God.