I’d lived out one of the short life terms of the species and then left with no desire to return. The amazing clarity of my thoughts, the easy answers that came to any question almost without effort, the march and dance of numbers were no substitute for emotion and color, which I could only vaguely understand when inside that body. I wondered how any soul could be content there, but the planet had been self-sufficient for thousands of Earth years. It was still open for settling only because the Spiders reproduced so quickly—great sacs of eggs.

I started to tell Jamie how the offensive had been launched here. The Spiders were our best engineers—the ships they made for us danced nimbly and undetectably through the stars. The Spiders’ bodies were almost as useful as their minds: four long legs to each segment—from which they’d earned their nickname on this planet—and twelve-fingered hands on each leg. These six-jointed fingers were as slender and strong as steel threads, capable of the most delicate procedures. About the mass of a cow, but short and lean, the Spiders had no trouble with the first insertions. They were stronger than humans, smarter than humans, and prepared, which the humans were not.…

I stopped short, midsentence, when I saw the crystalline sparkle on Jamie’s cheek.

He was staring straight ahead at nothing, his lips pressed in a tight line. A large drop of salt water rolled slowly down the cheek closest to me.

Idiot, Melanie chastised me. Didn’t you think what your story would mean to him?

Didn’t you think of warning me sooner?

She didn’t answer. No doubt she’d been as caught up in the storytelling as I was.

“Jamie,” I murmured. My voice was thick. The sight of his tear had done strange things to my throat. “Jamie, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Jamie shook his head. “’S okay. I asked. I wanted to know how it happened.” His voice was gruff, trying to hide the pain.

It was instinctive, the desire to lean forward and wipe that tear away. I tried at first to ignore it; I was not Melanie. But the tear hung there, motionless, as if it would never fall. Jamie’s eyes stayed fixed on the blank wall, and his lips trembled.

He wasn’t far from me. I stretched my arm out to brush my fingers against his cheek; the tear spread thin across his skin and disappeared. Acting on instinct again, I left my hand against his warm cheek, cradling his face.

For a short second, he pretended to ignore me.

Then he rolled toward me, his eyes closed, his hands reaching. He curled into my side, his cheek against the hollow of my shoulder, where it had once fit better, and sobbed.