When she woke, she kept her eyes shut tight at first in the sincere hope that it would prove to have all been a dream. But she realized fairly quickly that the silk sheets she was lying in were not her own. She could hear the persistent rustle of wings not far away. She was still on the ship.

She opened her eyes slowly to take in her surroundings. She was lying in a broad round bed covered in the softest and most comfortable sheets she'd ever touched. The bed stood in the center of the balcony she'd woken on, dark except for a sliver of white light visible through a gap in the curtains. In that dim light, she could just see Atropos, silhouetted against the opening, standing perfectly still.

Slowly, she slid out of the bed. He didn't react to the soft sound. Curious, she moved closer, taking the opportunity to examine him more thoroughly. He was larger than most of the other aliens she'd seen. Taller, and broader in the shoulders. As he'd been when he was human, he was built like a brute, top-heavy and powerful.

The pattern of his wings was decidedly menacing with its dramatic skull pattern as well. Long, feathered antennae swept gracefully back from his forehead. His features under the strange charcoal gray-black color of his skin were not so different from when he'd been human, aside from the eyes. As she moved slowly around him, he still didn't react.

He stared into the gap between the curtains, unmoving except for the occasional slow beat of his wings, which seemed to move with his breathing. She frowned in confusion and slowly raised a hand to wave it in front of his eyes. He blinked and looked down at her, mildly startled.

"Oh," he said. "You're awake."

"Were you asleep standing up?" she asked. "With your eyes open?"

"I do not sleep," he replied with a small smile. "When we are tired, or very cold, or we have just eaten too much, we may become quiescent, but it is not true sleep."

"Weird," Amber declared, taking a step back.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked. "You surprised me, falling like that in the observatory."

"I was pretty overwhelmed," she admitted. "God, I still am. I'm in space, talking to an alien! I don't know. I think I'm probably handling it pretty well."

She laughed a little, manic with confusion, then shook her head, not wanting to let herself freak out again.

"I am very sorry this happened to you," Atropos said, a concerned frown on his face. "It should never have been allowed."

"And why was it?" Amber asked.

"That is . . . complicated." Atropos looked away in a gesture Amber was beginning to recognize as a sign that he wanted to avoid answering that. "You must be hungry. Let me get you something to eat."

"I'd really rather hear why it's so complicated," Amber insisted, but Atropos was already turning away from her, issuing an order to the computer in such quick shorthand that, though she was fairly certain it was in English, Amber could barely understand it. Light bloomed above them, illuminating the dim balcony room. The bed melted away in a flicker of light and was replaced by a white table, a small round wrought-iron one like those seen outside Parisian cafes.

"French again," Amber murmured as she sat on one of the delicate white stools that had appeared beside it. "Did they get baroque from you?"

"The other way around, actually," Atropos explained, sitting across from her. "We've taken a lot of inspiration from various human cultures over the years. This period was particularly popular among the flight I was born to. I still favor it."

As he sat, the surface of the table shimmered iridescently and plates appeared before both of them. Amber frowned down at the food curiously, which looked like various sliced fruits and herbs in some kind of syrup.

"Is this safe for me to eat?" she asked.

"Of course," Atropos said at once, already nibbling at his own. "It's nothing you haven't eaten all your life."

Amber took a cautious bite and recognized the peach for what it was.

"Did you guys get peaches from us too?" she asked, baffled. There were peaches, pears, and pomegranate seeds on her plate. The syrup they were drenched in was almost painfully sweet.

"That one actually came from us," Atropos replied. "In the early days, there was discussion of colonizing your planet, and it was seeded with some of our native plants, including the ancestor of the modern peach. The plan was ultimately abandoned for various reasons, but it's one of the only lasting ways we've truly affected your planet. One of our experiments to test the habitability of the planet for us is responsible for the butterflies and moths across your planet today."

"So you didn't build the pyramids," Amber said, fascinated despite herself. "But you did invent peaches and butterflies."

"It would seem so," Atropos said with a small smile. "Although, the plants originally left on your planet aren't much like what you have now. Two million years of cultivation have changed and diversified them quite dramatically. But most are still edible for us, and in general, we actually prefer the Earth domesticated varieties. I don't think our species was ever particularly good at agriculture."

Amber’s mind raced with confusion and a kind of giddy delight at what she was learning. She took another bite of her breakfast, discovering that peach and basil were actually a pretty delicious combination. But that syrup was entirely too sweet for her.

"How do you speak English anyway?" she asked. Atropos looked vaguely uncomfortable again.

"I learned it as part of my mission," he explained. "But everyone here speaks some variety of Human. Mostly Mandarin."

"Why?" Amber pushed. "What's your native language like?"

Atropos shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't know," he said at last. "I don't know it. No one does."

Amber's eyes widened in confusion.

"I don't understand," she said. "How could you not know your own language?"

"It was lost," he said, looking away. "Along with many other things. It has been a long time since the migrations began."

Amber was silent for a moment, waiting for him to continue. He frowned down at his plate, uncomfortable, for a long moment.

"We do not understand most of our own technology anymore," he confessed. "We know how to operate it, but not how it works, how to fix it, how to advance it. Most everything is automated. There is talk of greater education on the home world once we have left the flight, and that our culture and technology persist there, but among the migration flight, we are as children. It became easier to learn Human than to hang on to the scraps of our own language."

Amber leaned back in her seat, baffled.

"I always kind of hoped I'd get to meet aliens one day," she said. "I never thought it would be like this."

"It is not the way I would have wanted it to happen," Atropos agreed.

"Okay." Amber sat up again and pushed away her plate. "You've dodged the question enough. Why am I here? Am I going to be used as a host?"

"No," Atropos said quickly. "No, absolutely not. You are here because . . ."

He fell silent for a moment, clearly searching for the right words, the way to explain.

"You are a gift," he said at last with a sigh. "No, you are a bribe. A trap to make me complicit in my brother's plans. I was sent to Earth, specifically to North America, to search for hosts. For . . . particularly high-quality hosts."

"High-quality?" Amber asked with a frown, concern growing.

"I told you we are influenced by human culture," Atropos went on, looking away shamefully. "There has always been something of a 'black market' for human artifacts. Films, music, clothing. Chocolate and spices. But recently, there have been more . . . extreme demands."

He licked his lips with a dark grey tongue. Amber, anxious, waited for him to continue.

"We are all flight-brothers on this ship," he said. "Hatched together. But we still have some concept of family, as humans do. My sire donated his genetics to two offspring, myself and my wing-brother, Actian. My sire was flight leader during his migration, destined to be king on the home world when he returned. He chose Actian as his heir, to become flight leader and one day, king. Actian is . . ."

He paused, looked away uncomfortably.

"Ambitious," he finished at last. "He is not satisfied with our ways."

"Please tell me he wants to stop using humans to reproduce," Amber said, hoping despite her better instincts.

"I am afraid not," Atropos replied. "But he despises our weakness, the loss of our culture and knowledge. He wishes to build us back up into the empire we once were. He is driven to it by the hopes and expectations of the entire flight. He intends to do this by means of alliance with other species."

"There are other aliens?" Amber sat up straighter, curiosity getting the better of her again.

"Many," Atropos confirmed. "Though few venture this far out into space. The urge to conquer and explore seems to be a primarily human drive. In my experience, most races tend to stay within their own star systems. But there are a few others who, for any number of reasons, must leave their home lands. Actian has met with representatives from a few of these expatriates and intends to gather them as allies."

"And then what?" Amber asked, anxious. "What's he gathering allies for?"

"He intends to take a portion of the human population back to home world," Atropos explained. "To end the migrations, permanently."

Amber sat back her chair, stomach churning at the realization of what that would mean for the hundreds, maybe thousands of people stolen.

"And what about me?" she asked, her voice a little hoarse with confusion. "Your brother is using me to bribe you, but for what? Get to the point!"

"Actian intends to hold an auction," Atropos explained, his expression grim and reluctant. "His allies will join him here in a week, when the incubation is nearly complete. He ordered me to select several ideal human hosts. Young, healthy, attractive. He will sell them to our allies to ensure their support and to show them the value of the new Human trade he will be creating."

"Oh, my God." Amber felt sick to her stomach. "And that's what I am for you? Some kind of fancy plaything?"

"I did not ask for this," Atropos pleaded. "I would never treat you that way. Actian has never spent time among humans. He doesn't understand you as a people."

"Well then, make him understand!" Amber stood up so sharply the table rocked, steadying it as she slammed her palms down on the surface. "We can't let him do this! This whole thing, the migrations, all of it has to stop!"

"Amber," Atropos said gently. "You're talking about the extinction of my species. The only way to end the migrations is to either let my people die out or go through with Actian's plan. The migrations are still the kindest option."

"They're despicable!" Amber insisted. "You're kidnapping people and impregnating them against their will!"

"No one is hurt," Atropos insisted, talking gently as though to an upset child. "They don't even know they were gone."

"It's still wrong!" Amber shouted, trying to make him understand. "You're using them, using their bodies, without their knowledge or consent! And you have no idea what disappearing for a week might do to their lives. What if they had children depending on them? What if they lose their jobs for disappearing for a week? How do they explain that lost time to their families and all the people who are part of their lives? You could ruin people's lives, get people killed, and yet you keep acting like you're not having any impact! And maybe nobody noticed seventy years ago, but we have the internet and cameras everywhere now, and these people who all lost the same week of their lives will find each other."

Atropos looked a little pale at the last, but Amber still wasn't certain what she was saying was getting through to him.

"You do not understand," he said. "Actian is flight-leader. I cannot go against him, even if I think this decision is wrong. And I cannot ask him to doom our entire species for your sake."

"Then you're as much of a monster as he is," Amber declared, shoving the table as she turned away from it, wishing she had anywhere to storm away to. "And I don't want anything to do with you!"

"Amber," Atropos said, his tone making it clear he thought she was being unreasonable.

"Will that computer thing answer me?" she asked suddenly without turning back to him.

"Well, yes, of course," Atropos replied. "But I don't see why—"

"Computer, wall!" Amber demanded, pointing. At once, and with a satisfyingly final slam, a wall sprang up between her and Atropos, shutting him out. She was certain he could ask for a door if he wanted to, but she didn't think he would.

"Amber," she heard him call through the plastic-plaster material of the wall. "You cannot seriously expect me to do this!"

"I was an idiot for ever even talking to you!" she shouted back. "I can't believe I was so stupid to think a guy like that would be interested in someone like me. I should have guessed you were a monster in disguise from the start!"

"Amber, please—"

"Leave me alone!"

There was a long moment of silence, then she heard his footsteps retreating and the rustle of the curtain as he left. She sighed in relief. She needed time to process everything she'd just learned.

"Computer?" she said hopefully. "Bed?"

The same bed she'd woken in rose from the floor obediently, and she threw herself onto it with relief, dragging the blankets over her head. Her emotions were a mess. Part of her was still elated. She was in space! She'd met aliens! On the other hand, fear and disgust and bitter disappointment raged. She had liked Atropos so much.

To have him turn out to be this thing, bent on using her species as living incubators, content to let his brother enslave humanity . . . she'd never felt so betrayed. And she didn't know how she was going to get out of it. She didn't know how to escape this ship on her own. She wasn't sure she could. She closed her eyes and waited for the storm of feelings to pass.

But that wasn't going to cut it anymore, was it? She couldn't just close her eyes and wait for this to go away as she had when she was a child, cowering from thunderstorms or the neighbor's rowdy sons or any of the other hundred things that used to frighten her.

This was here, this was happening, and if she didn't adapt, God only knew what would happen to her. She was a scientist, damn it. Top of her class, on her way to NASA. She was better than this, cowering under the blankets like a child. And she was going to prove it, one way or another.