“No.” Jen wanted to cry as she said the words. “You’re in quarantine now, too.”

Something flashed over Alessicka’s face—anger or maybe resentment—and was covered over so quickly that Jen doubted she’d seen anything. “Oh, Jen,” the girl said, her voice a tremulous whisper, “please don’t be mad at me. I was just trying to do the right thing.”

Jen turned away from the console so Alessicka wouldn’t see the how badly her words had cut.

On the day Alessicka had arrived on Station 331 to complete their three-woman team, Jen had realised the girl was too gentle and too young for a job that would entail years of isolation. As Alessicka examined the console station she would be in charge of, Jen had watched the woman’s hands flutter above the buttons with the anxious motions of someone who’d never been outside a simulation room before. She’d made up her mind to watch over her newest ward carefully. She’d told herself she could shelter her, protect her, and guide her until her contract was up. Then she could usher her into an easier, more enjoyable job on Perros. She’d failed. Whatever had happened to Carly had taken over Alessicka, and Jen hadn’t been able to stop it.

“Jen?” Alessicka called, and she sounded so much like herself that it was agony for Jen to leave the doors closed. “I’m sorry, Jen. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Jen grimaced then turned back to the window. Alessicka stared back, her smile apologetic, her doe eyes begging for forgiveness. Carly was near the back of the room, standing beside the shelves holding the equipment. She kept her eyes averted, seemingly trying to blend into the background, almost as though she hoped Jen would forget she was there.

Jen couldn’t let Alessicka out… but she didn’t want to leave her alone, either. She sat in front of the console, ignoring the girl’s curious gaze, and turned off the intercom. If she couldn’t hear her, she wouldn’t be so tempted.

As soon as she saw Jen wasn’t going to open the doors, Alessicka turned away and joined Carly near the back of the room. They sat together, Carly’s arm around her friend’s shoulders, in the same pose Jen had once sat with Alessicka when she’d been crying from homesickness. Jen ignored them.

The console recorded and stored audio for up to forty-eight hours. Normally, it was Alessicka’s job to retrieve it if they needed to check any of their patrol data, but Jen knew enough about the machine to fumble her way through it. She rewound it to a point just a few minutes before the door had been opened, and pressed play.

“Hi, Lessi,” Carly’s tinny voice said. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Neither could I.”

A few minutes of silence was punctuated by rustling noises. Jen imagined Alessicka sitting in front of the desk and Carly moving towards the window.

“Lessi, I can trust you, can’t I?”

“Yeah, of course you can.”

She heard Carly sigh. “There’s something wrong with Jen.”