Edison had no answer for her. Rosalyn kept her eyes fixed on the windows, but nothing moved there again, and she promised herself it was just a trick of the eye, or one of the flashing emergency lights reflecting oddly. They reached the customs kiosks, completely abandoned, work tablets still poised and at the ready. A Servitor’s foot, cleanly severed, still stood, as if the body had been whisked away mid-interview. A handful of crates to be inspected were stacked next to the foot, unopened. Misato disappeared into the shadows on the other side of the rounded walkway leading through customs and toward the main elevators.

They needed to hurry. Edison nudged her along with greater haste while Rosalyn peered in every direction, a cold, slimy feeling crawling over her neck whenever they passed an open doorway.

“Kenopsia,” she whispered, head turned and eyes trained behind them as he hauled her toward the elevators. Misato waited for a car to be called, her body unnaturally stiff and still. The doors were opening, a friendly golden light spilling out onto Misato’s head.

“What?”

“It’s like that bizarre feeling you get when you’re in a place that should be filled with people but isn’t.”

Not just a weird feeling, a hollow one, an eyes-on-you-from-every-direction-at-once feeling. Which was ironic, considering Rosalyn hadn’t spotted another soul on the station except for Misato. But she trusted Edison’s instincts, so perhaps it wasn’t so strange to feel as if she was going out of her skin with untold numbers of Foxfire agents waiting for them somewhere inside.

The central bank of elevators led to the last security staging area, which was a mandatory stop before getting clearance and being allowed access to whatever segments of the station involved your stated business. The cantinas and retail spaces could be reached by anyone, but many of the corporate offices required an additional step, usually a rotating pass card or code. Rounded banks of stories-tall windows looked down onto them, and as they neared the elevators and Misato disappeared into them, Rosalyn felt her heart sink to her toes.

“You were right,” she gasped, gazing, transfixed by the pulsing blue light pouring out from the windows above. “They’re everywhere.”

Rosalyn collapsed with relief as the elevator doors closed with a hush. Sheer terror and Edison’s arm had been keeping her upright, but now the full weight of what she had seen barreled into her, dropping her to the floor. Vaguely, she heard Edison programming the elevator. Of course he knew which floor. That thing was calling to him, too. If she hadn’t been there, close to him, he would be going to it as blindly as Misato.