The carpet was soft, the lighting dim. I almost didn’t see Mom standing by the window looking out at the lawn. She twitched when I put my hand on he... shoulder. ‘Oh, Peter,’ she said, turning to me with a smile. ‘I didn’t hear you. You gave me quite a firght.’ ‘No, Mom, not Peter,’ I said. Peter was my Dad’s name. ‘It’s me. Mark. Your son.’ ‘Mark?’ she said, voice wavering. The look of confusion in her eyes almost made me want to weep. Mom was once a good looking woman, back in her youth. Before. More of them pressed in from above, eyes wide, examining his alien physiology.It was all happening again, his brain turning to soup as their questing tongues painted trails of sticky saliva across his skin, fingers digging beneath his waistband as they began to understand how his clothing functioned.Unlike the Workers, these Repletes were not problem solvers or engineers, his belt was a barrier that they could not break through. Still, he felt the head of one of the Repletes rest heavily on his. More

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