They floated, unconscious and drifting as though under water, their hair and clothing like seaweed caught in a current. Each was at the center of a beam of light which suspended them, seeming anchored somewhere in their chests. Their faces were alternately serene or troubled, as though whatever they dreamed of worried them.

She watched a woman she was fairly certain worked at the university slowly clench and unclench her hands, her brow furrowed, her fingers taut, and Amber wondered if she was dreaming they were around someone's throat or clawing at some unknown attacker.

It was mostly women, though there were a handful of men, all between the ages of twenty and thirty by Amber's estimation. They was an even mix of races and ethnicities and body types. Though they were all beautiful, it was an indiscriminate beauty, no two victims quite the same.

The priority seemed to have been dramatic coloration rather than what was considered routinely attractive these days. There were far fewer size-two waistlines than there were people with dyed hair. A tall black woman with bleached blonde hair and the palomino skin indicative of vitiligo floated next to a curvaceous ginger with milk-pale skin and a dense scattering of freckles. Beside them, a man with dark red-brown skin and dramatic tattoos tensed and shifted in his uneasy sleep, long black hair catching the light.

Amber was frozen, caught somewhere between shock and horror. She had to do something, she thought, feeling a wild panic like a trapped bird. She had to get them out, she had to stop this. They were helpless. They had no idea.

A sound like sheets in the wind broke her fearful reverie, and she looked up to see something descending from a higher level toward her, wings spread so wide she almost couldn't wrap her mind around it. She fell, all her courage and bravado abandoning her as she sank to her knees, covering her head with her arms.

But the thing did not land on her. It landed in front of her, stopping itself with a heavy beat of its broad, pale green wings. The wind of it blew her hair back from her face and threw the brown cloak she wore off her shoulders to fan behind her. The man, the Lepidopterix, that landed before her was, in a word, majestic. She'd glimpsed him before when she was first waking up, but she'd been too distressed and confused to really appreciate what he was.

Actian was taller even than his brother, though not as broad. Where Atropos was built like a hulking brute, all top-heavy intimidation, Actian was built like a king, tall and straight-backed and regal. The pale silvery green of his skin and wings were almost translucent. The long green filaments of his antennae curled over his brow like a crown.

"You do not belong here," he said, his voice deep and sonorous, shaking Amber to her core. He reached for her, and Amber was certain for a moment that she would die.

"I brought her," Atropos said suddenly, calm and easy as he appeared behind her. She had almost forgotten he was there.

"The hosts should not be disturbed before implantation," Actian said with a frown. "You know this. If anyone could come in here, the hosts might be damaged."

"I know, brother." Atropos bowed respectfully. "But Amber—the human—wished to see."

"Oh, this is your pet?" Actian replied, squinting down at Amber. "Her coloration is so dull I could not tell her apart from the low-grade chattel. I assumed one of those had escaped. You have strange tastes, brother."

"Humans have other charms beyond base coloration," Atropos said defensively. "And I am dull-colored as well. We suit one another."

"Perhaps you do," Actian said, antennae twitching curiously. "But you should not have brought her in here. You might have taken her to the main incubation hall. But this place is for the prime stock for our auction. We cannot risk even a single one being damaged."

"I thought to show her a human's place," Atropos replied, and the coolness in his voice felt like a spike through Amber's heart. "She is resistant to accepting her new home here."

Actian nodded in sudden understanding.

"I see," he said. "Perhaps you were not being foolish after all. It is better the creature learns to mind now, before Gifting Day. Get the silly thing off the floor. I will help you show her."

Amber could only numbly obey as Atropos pulled her to her feet. Shame at her foolish bravery hung over her, while fear rattled in her chest. Had Atropos really meant that? This new cold side of him was frightening and unfamiliar. He all but held her up by her arm as Actian began to walk past the rows of sleeping, suspended humans.

"See how peacefully they rest, human?" Actian said. "They will remain this way all through Gifting Day, when they are seeded with new life. Humans are uniquely suited to this, you know. It is a not unpopular theory that early Lepidopterix created the first hominids for the express purpose of carrying our young. Why else would you be so perfect for our purposes? The shape of your wombs, the hardiness of your bodies, the compatibility of your internal chemistry—you are ideal. Recent research suggests you may be equally useful in carrying the young of many different species. And not just hosting an externally fertilized embryo. There's even talk of true crossbreeding, based on samples of your fascinatingly adaptable chromosomes. Humanity may be the Universal Surrogate we've all been waiting for. And with the Lepidopterix managing you, you will be able to help an untold number of species. Truly, your service is a gift to all sentient races. You should be quite proud."

Amber clutched her cape in white-knuckled hands, fighting the urge to run or lash out. Actian seemed to have no idea how horrifying the future he was suggesting sounded.

"It probably can't even understand me," Actian said, glancing at the silent, pale-faced human girl.

"They only just stopped being apes a few millennia ago, brother," Atropos replied. "Go easy on them."

Actian shrugged.

"Regardless, perhaps seeing her betters in their place here will make her more grateful that you allow her such freedom," he said.

A glimpse of auburn hair distracted Amber from her distress and anger at this line of reasoning. She took a second glance at the woman they were passing, then cried out in sudden, horrified recognition.

"Erin!"

Amber lunged toward her friend at once, Atropos's grip on her arm holding her back. Amber had no idea Erin had been taken. All this time, she'd thought her friend was safe on Earth, wondering where Amber had gone. The thought of Erin, beautiful, kind, funny Erin being subjected to what she knew would happen here made Amber's skin crawl.

"Oh, do you know this one?" Actian asked conversationally, stepping closer to Erin. He brushed a drifting auburn curl away from Erin's face with surprising delicacy. "She is an impressive specimen, is she not? Almost perfect, I would say. She is meant for the auction, but I am considering taking her for my personal host come Gifting Day."

"Let her go," Amber blurted out without thinking. Atropos's grip tightened on her arm. "Please. Send her back to Earth and I'll cooperate. I'll take her place! Just let her go!"

Actian laughed, not cruelly but indifferently, as one laughs at a silly child.

"A sweet offer," he said. "But your only worth is to my brother. Without his sentimentality, I would not take you for base breeding stock, let alone to replace a quality animal such as this. You are just going to have to accept your place in the world, and hers."

"No!" Amber shouted and struggled against Atropos, no real plan except to get to Erin, to stop this madness. Atropos held her in place easily, frowning slightly as she thrashed in her distress. Actian was frowning as well.

"You should hurry and seed her," he told his brother mildly. "She'll be less troublesome once she's gravid. No one would blame you for doing it a little ahead of Gifting Day."

Atropos looked slightly uncomfortable. Amber, helpless to escape his iron grip, went limp, a sob welling up from her chest.

"I do not intend to use her for a host," Atropos told his brother somewhat haltingly.

"Why not?" Actian said with a frown. "She's perfectly capable of it. She's already been assigned to you. If you're angling for a host of better stock—"

"I didn't intend to contribute my genetics at all," Atropos confessed. Even Amber, hanging despondently from Atropos's grip, could see the shock this caused in Actian.

"Blasphemy!" Actian declared. "Everyone must contribute! You know that if even a handful of us abstained, our numbers would dwindle beyond sustainability within a few generations! With the numbers we lost to that illness last season, we are at risk enough already."

"I know, I know," Atropos said at once, backing down. "It is just . . . this method, the way we use the humans . . . it vexes me, brother."

Actian shook his head, making an odd clicking sound that might have been a sigh.

"No one would know it to look at you," he said. "But you've always been soft-shelled. But we must all do things we are not comfortable with for the good of the flight. There are many things I wish were not so, but as flight leader, I must shoulder the responsibility regardless. I'm sure you can find it in you to do something as simple as donating your genetics, regardless of your squeamishness."

Atropos hesitated for a moment, then bowed his head.

"Of course, flight leader."

He talked with Actian a little longer, but Amber was beginning to have difficulty focusing on it. She couldn't see anything but Erin, hanging helplessly in front of her, expression serene in deep sleep, unaware of the nightmare waiting for her when she woke up.