He held my hand as I leaned over to rest my head against his shoulder, and the Arizona sun beat down on us, and I had no idea what to do.

Stem

I think everyone expected to see a man emerge—possibly something a little unlike us terrestrial men, but in all essentials a man. I know I did. But, looking, I presently saw something stirring within the shadow: greyish billowy movements, one above another, and then two luminous disks—like eyes. Then something resembling a little grey snake, about the thickness of a walking stick, coiled up out of the writhing middle, and wriggled in the air towards me—and then another.

—H. G. Wells, The War of the Worlds

I won’t say I’m sorry for something I never got to decide to do.

—Stasia Miller

Nobody tells us how much time we get. I wish somebody could. I wish that as soon as we fell in love, a little man with a pocket watch would appear like something out of … out of a Lemony Snicket novel and say, “The young lovers did not yet know, although they were soon to learn, that they would only have three years, six months, and two days together before their love would end in tragedy.”

It would still have been worth it. We would both have stayed. But I might feel a little less like I was dying.

Robert was the kind of man people say can’t possibly exist. He was kind and funny and loud and aggressive when he needed to be and gentle whenever he could be. He loved me. I loved him. If I ever needed proof that the world was good, I got it when he chose me. If I ever needed proof that the world was cruel, I got it three years, six months, and two days later.

—eulogy by Amanda Reyes for Robert Gilmore, delivered 2028.

Go back to your home planet, you freak.

—inscription in the yearbook of Anastasia Miller, June, 2015.

Chapter 12

Tucson, Arizona: August 6, 2031

The last day before the invasion

1.

Somehow, they still didn’t know where we were.

The news had been filled with stories about aliens. After Agent Brown’s press conference got rebroadcast around the world—as Senator Davis had predicted it would be—people had put two and two together: signal from space plus aliens among us equaled invasion on the way, and extraterrestrial fever had gripped the world.

“We don’t need to destroy them,” Jeff had muttered, after the first riot had been reported on social media. “We need to sedate them so they don’t destroy themselves out of sheer … I don’t even know what this is.”

“Proof that they’re prey,” Tahlia had replied. “Proof that we’re right.”

Toni, who had been sprawled over the entire couch with a star chart and a highlighter, had sneered without responding.