“Right,” said Graham, after a long and silent pause. He didn’t meet my eyes. I hadn’t honestly expected him to.

Our circle was closing, narrowing in one by one. Soon enough, we would dwindle into nothing, and where would we be then? I looked at my friends, the people who had been with me since this unasked-for journey began, and silently wondered who’d be standing when the end arrived. Because the end … oh, the end was so damn near.

Flower

… For a time I believed that mankind had been swept out of existence, and that I stood there alone, the last man left alive. Hard by the top of Putney Hill I came upon another skeleton, with the arms dislocated and removed several yards from the rest of the body. As I proceeded I became more and more convinced that the extermination of mankind was, save for such stragglers as myself, already accomplished in this part of the world …

—H. G. Wells, The War of the Worlds

So I guess this is how it was always supposed to end.

—Stasia Miller

Dear Anastasia;

I know you will probably never see this, just as I know that isn’t really your name. It’s the name you stole from my daughter when you killed her in the woods, all those years ago.

There has always been a rift between us. You thought it was because I didn’t believe you when you told me about your origins. I want to tell you now that it was because I did believe you, because I did know you weren’t my daughter. My daughter went into the woods and did not come home. My daughter died because I could not protect her.

Now, finally, I am going to see her again. I hope she can forgive me.

I know you never will.

—letter written by Caroline Miller, 2031. Undelivered.

Citizens of the United States of America, we are at war.

It is not a traditional conflict. These enemies come, not from within or without, but from another world. They have crossed space to reach us, to destroy us, and I say now and to you all, that we will not be destroyed. The human race will survive this. We will endure.

God bless America, and God help us all.

—address given by President Richard Collins to the American people, August 2031.

Chapter 19

Seattle, Washington: August 17, 2031

Invasion nearing its conclusion

1.

Unlike the scout ship we’d seen in Tucson, which had been acting autonomously and didn’t have any precious cargo to protect, our borrowed vessel landed gently. It touched down in the middle of the airport runways, sinking its tangled roots deep into the concrete, cracking it into a million useless chunks and shards. It settled slowly into its new cradle in the earth, digging those roots deeper by the second, making itself an immovable part of the landscape. How true that immovability was was really anyone’s guess: I couldn’t have said one way or the other.