“Damage. Extensive. We replaced the relevant parts.”

Iona’s eyebrows raised. “Replaced?”

The figure pointed at the wall opposite Iona and a diagram appeared on it—a cutaway of the human body with all organs visible. The lungs and other parts of the respiratory system were highlighted.

“You replaced all that?” said Iona.

“Yes.”

“With . . . what?”

“Organic component replication. We took a sample of your DNA and used it to grow replacement parts.”

Iona considered this: it wasn’t an entirely strange idea. She felt like this technique had existed on Earth. Yet she still found it unsettling that pieces of herself had been substituted for identical pieces. She wondered where her old lungs were now but didn’t like to ask.

“You know a lot about us, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I mean, you speak our language.”

“We have been watching you for a long time.” This was true. The figures had been looking at them for so long without ever trying to communicate. It had never occurred to Iona that they could have done so but chose not to.

“Have you put me in one of the other domes?”

“No.”

Iona waited for an elaboration on this statement. None arrived. “Where are we then?”

“A medical facility. You burned the habitation deliberately. You put yourselves at great risk.” The phrasing was neutral but Iona still felt like it was a criticism.

“We did burn it deliberately, yes—”

“To force us to open the door.”

“What? No.”

“You knew we could not let you die.”

Iona found this information interesting. “We didn’t know that, actually.”

“But you burned the habitation.” Iona noticed the figure didn’t ask questions. Instead it made statements that implied a request for information.

“We burned it because there was something dangerous in it.”

“You are dangerous.”

“We’re not dangerous.”

“We know you are dangerous.”

“Something more dangerous than us.” A terribly urgent thought occurred to her. “You haven’t let it out, have you?”

“You mean the fifth human?”

“No, not her—”

“Your fellow killed the fifth human after we placed it in there with you.”

If they knew about this they had indeed been watching activity inside the dome closely. Iona wondered how they’d kept such close tabs on them—tiny drones perhaps?—but there were other things to worry about right now.

“No,” she said, “there was a cat. You know, the small creature.” Iona used her hands to vaguely suggest the size and shape of Clarence. She expected skepticism from the figure but it seemed to take this at face value.

“Nothing emerged from the habitat except you and the other three humans.”

“You can’t let it out. See, it made Steve kill Alyssa. That’s what it does, it gets inside your head—if you let it out it’ll do the same thing out here.”

“Nothing more will emerge from the habitat.”

“Good,” said Iona, relieved.

“The habitat has been reset to default.”

“And . . . what does that mean?”

“The matter comprising the habitat has been reprocessed into energy.”