“So why did you release the signal, anyway?” I pointed to David. “He says your parents fund this place, which means you keep your job even if you don’t release a signal from space—or maybe even if you do, when what you put out there is basically an announcement of invasion. You could have kept it. Picked it apart. Not helped the aliens you seem to believe are already here.”

“Seem to believe? Seem to believe? Hey, David, wanna see a neat trick?” She didn’t wait for his response before smiling at me, sticky-sweet, and asking, “Are you from this planet?”

“No, I’m the vanguard of an invading species of alien plant-people,” I said, before clapping my hand over my mouth. Through my fingers, I mumbled, “I didn’t mean to say that.” I wanted this woman to help us, and she seemed, if not outright hostile toward the aliens, at least to have some ulterior motive I couldn’t quite make out.

“But you did, because you always do. All of you do. It’s a compulsion. I think it’s part of the conversion process: they make you look like a human, they even make you think like a human, but they also make sure you’ll give yourself away if given the slightest opportunity to do so. Like, ordering fries at McDonald’s, would you like an alien invasion with that. It’s a bullshit tic and you all have it and it’s amazing.”

I frowned. Graham frowned. Graham recovered first.

“How many people with this compulsion have you met?” he asked.

“People? None. Alien invaders wearing skin suits? Fifteen. Sixteen if you count the one who was in the coma when I got there.” Toni was serene. “No way to confirm that one was an invader without a full autopsy, and her parents didn’t see the need for one, since she’d just eaten something that didn’t agree with her. People are so short-sighted sometimes.”

“You really do believe Stasia is an alien,” he said.

“Well, yes,” said Toni. “Don’t you? You came here with her.”

“Of course I do.” Graham glanced at me, and then back to her. “I love her. You believe the people you love. Believing she’s from outer space doesn’t hurt me. Choosing not to believe her would hurt her, and part of loving her is never hurting her when I have any way to avoid it.”

“Why do you believe me?” I asked.

Toni looked at me coldly, and rolled up her sleeves.