“No!” Callie shouted. “No, she’s here, on the station.” Callie decided Sebastien was in some kind of shock, or the implant was muting his emotional reactions. That was the only explanation for why he wasn’t more excited at the prospect of salvation.

“Ohhh.” He leaned against a wall of screens and let out a long slow exhalation. “Of course she is. She would have insisted on coming in after us personally. I’m so glad. I want to see her.”

“She’s waiting on our transport. Join us and we’ll take you back to our ship. Do you have an environment suit?”

“Oh, it’s around here somewhere.” He gestured vaguely. “Show me Elena first. And maybe show me yourself. Right now you’re a disembodied voice.” He laughed, though it was more of an unhinged titter. “For all I know you’re a hallucination. I’ve been hearing all kinds of voices, but they don’t sound like yours. They’re not in any language I know, but I understand them.” He tapped one of the brain-spider legs, jammed deep into his skull, just above his ear. “They’re mostly messages about the greatness of the race who built this station. Do humans know about them? The ones who made this place?”

“No. We’ve never met them. This station is the first evidence we’ve found of their existence.”

“But not the last. No, no. You’ll learn all about them, the great race. Now, please show yourself, so I know I’m not imagining you. Strange things can happen to the minds of people who find themselves shipwrecked. I read about that in school. I specialized in the psychology of large groups, but large groups are made up of individuals, so I had to learn all that, too.”

Callie checked her non-lethal weapons, just in case, then turned off her camouflage. “I’m in here.” She thought it was prudent to not be in the same room as him, especially if he could control all the doors.

He swiveled, stared at her for a moment, then stood up. “Interesting. Acoustic manipulation. Where’s Elena?”

“Not far.” Callie stepped back, watching him closely as he passed through the door into the storage warehouse. His hands were empty, and there didn’t seem to be anything in his pockets, or at least, nothing big enough to shoot or club her with. “I have to tell you, Sebastien, your whole attitude is really freaking me out.”