It was a woman, and she sounded young and unsure of herself. Mitzi shook her head at her companions, indicating that they should remain quiet.

“Hello, is someone in there? My name’s Sun. I need rescue, and my friend is hurt. Please, let me in.”

Mitzi had been warned about how convincingly the Cymics could imitate their hosts, but it was still painfully challenging to imagine the pleading voice as anything except human.

“Please, please, open the door! I think I can hear them coming!” Raw panic filled the voice. “You have to help me—I don’t want them to catch me.” She sobbed, fearful and breathless. “I don’t want to… to become… please, they’re coming up the stairwell. Help me!”

Mir’s eyes were wide. “What if?” she mouthed, and even Mitzi found herself filled with doubt.

“Nic?” she hissed, low enough that whatever was on the other side of the door wouldn’t hear her. “Are you certain? There’s no way a human could have gotten to us?”

Nic’s voice was fond and a little sad. “Doll, no chance in hell. They’re gathered so thickly outside that door that I can’t count the individual dots. Don’t be fooled.”

The voice rose into a terrified scream. Mitzi had heard that noise before, several times during her active duty. It was the sound a person made right after realising death was inevitable. She crossed her hands over her chest and hunched her shoulders against it, fighting against the part of her that wanted to wrench open the doors and save the person on the other side.

The scream broke off, and silence filled its place. Mitzi finally let herself breathe again, and she was surprised to find sweat covered her torso.

“What was that?” a voice mumbled, and Mitzi almost smiled. She hurried to the lounge where Adam was blinking, disoriented, at the strange shadows the glow sticks were throwing about the room. “Ugh… my head hurts.”

“Yeah, it’ll do that for a bit,” Mitzi murmured, picking up the cloth and dabbing it over his face. “Try to be quiet. We’ve got Cymics outside the door.”

Mitzi took a quick assessment of her team. Mir was leaning back in her chair, eyes on the ceiling. Skye was still watching the door, her face white. Franc had sat down and held his head in trembling hands. Ellen had sought comfort by leaning against her new friend, Eoin, and Eoin… was still reading his book.

“Mitz?” Nic’s voice was faint, and Mitzi got up to stand next to the suit again. “Still there?”

“Yeah, we’re fine.”

“I don’t want to alarm you, but you might want to get a move on. The station’s heating up. More and more lights are coming on. I guess they’re sending messengers to alert their buddies. You might want to make your move before they find a way into your room.”

Mitzi rubbed a hand over her face. “Right. What’s the fastest way to the reactor, assuming we can’t get down the first stairwell anymore?”