Maren wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to squash the ache blooming inside. Don’t cry, idiot. Save your own mental breakdown for when Gin and Saul are safe.

She looked at them, and the tightness in her chest eased. At least Gin, her favourite person in the universe, was safe; and at least Saul, who had unknowingly been her inspiration and idol, was still alive. She realised that those two people were more important than just friends; they were as good as family. And as long as her family was with her and safe, she could survive anything.

Maren stepped behind Gin and wrapped her arms around the other woman’s torso, giving her a fierce hug.

Gin peered up, and her face dimpled into a familiar smile. “Hey, I’m okay. I’m better now.”

“Good.”

“Ready for the info package?”

Once again, Maren glanced at the two people in the airlock and nodded. “Go for it.”

Gin pressed two more buttons, and crackling filled the speakers. Usually, the info packets started with an announcement of the speaker and the location, which was almost always Central, spoken by a crisp, cool woman or man. This one, though, was different: for nearly half a minute, the only sound was low, ragged breathing, punctuated by thick gulps.

“This is…” A woman’s voice spoke at last then hesitated before continuing. “This is communications manager Cody from Station 651. I am currently at Central, which I evacuated to after the death of both of my co-workers. My superiors do not think I should be sharing this information with you, but I have barricaded myself in the communications room with the intention of warning you and preparing you to the best of my abilities. I suspect I will only have a few minutes until they realise I’m here.

“You may be aware of the emergency information package sent earlier today. It is, I’m afraid, inexcusably negligent. To clear up some rumours: Yes, we are under attack. Yes, Central is aware. Yes, Central is hopelessly under-prepared for this threat. And yes, Central intended to keep the vast majority of our network in the dark while they attempted to protect the sections they thought were saveable. They didn’t want anyone to panic.”

The woman’s laugh was filled with bitterness and grief, but a frenzied banging sound interrupted her. Maren guessed Central’s security had discovered the barricaded door.

“I have never before seen anything like the being that is currently threatening to overwhelm our society. In one form, it looks like a black, slimy creature with many long, flexible arms. In another form, it looks like your roommate, your best friend, or even your child. It is a parasite; it doesn’t kill its hosts—not completely, at least—but it absorbs them and becomes them. It can mimic their face, their speech, their expressions, and mannerisms. It even takes their memories. There could be one standing beside you this minute, and you wouldn’t know except if you cut them. Humans bleed. The aliens don’t.”