The scale of suffering that the nightmares must be enduring, as well as inflicting, sickened Kira to think of.

She was unsurprised to see that the war had resulted in an unprecedented drawing together of humanity. Even the Zarians had put aside their differences with the League in order to join forces against their shared enemies.

And yet for all that, the combined might of every living human wasn’t enough to fight off their attackers. Fragmented though the news was, it was more than clear that they were losing. Humanity was losing, despite every effort to the contrary.

The news was overwhelming, exhausting, and depressing. At last, unable to bear any more, Kira tabbed out of her overlays and sat staring at the banks of lights and switches overhead, trying not to think about how everything seemed to be falling apart.

An alert appeared in the bottom corner of her vision. A message waiting for her. Kira opened it, expecting to see something from Gregorovich.

It wasn’t.

Sitting in her inbox was a reply to the video she’d sent to her family from 61 Cygni. A reply from her mother’s account.

Kira stared, shocked. With a start, she remembered to breathe. She hadn’t expected an answer. Her family couldn’t have known where or when she would return, so how could there be a message waiting for her here, at Sol? Unless …

Trembling slightly, she opened the file.

A video appeared in front of her, a dark window into what appeared to be an underground bunker. Kira recognized it as the sort used for radiation shielding by the first wave of colonists on Weyland.… Her parents were sitting facing her, gathered around a desk cluttered with tools and medkits. Isthah stood behind them, peering between their mom and dad with an anxious face.

Kira swallowed.

Her dad had a bandage around his right thigh. He looked painfully thin, and the lines around his eyes and nose were far deeper than she remembered. There was white in his sideburns that shouldn’t have been there, not if he’d gotten his scheduled STEM shots. As for her mom, she’d grown even harder, like an eagle carved from granite, and her hair was cut short, in the style favored by colonists who spent most of their time living in skinsuits.

Only Isthah appeared much the same, and Kira took some comfort in that.

Her mom cleared her throat. “Kira, we just received your message yesterday. It was a month late, but it got here.”

Then her dad: “We’re really happy to know you’re alive, honey. Really happy. You had us worried for a while.” Behind him, Isthah ducked her head. Kira was surprised she didn’t butt in; the restraint was uncharacteristic. But then, they were living in uncharacteristic times.

Her mom glanced at the other two before focusing on the camera again. “I’m sorry, we’re sorry, to hear about your teammates, Kira. And … Alan. He seemed like a good person.”

“This can’t be easy for you,” her father added. “Just know we’re thinking about you and wishing you the best. I’m sure the scientists here in the League can find a way to get this alien—” He hesitated. “—this alien parasite off you.” Her mom put a comforting hand on his arm.