“Hey. Morgan. Wake up. You’re burning daylight.”

 

“One more time, Alex, and I’m coming over to shove your transc--” 

 

Morgan sat upright in the bed. He was still not used to the dizziness. 

 

“All right, all right, I apologize. Please come see me in the research wing.”

 

Morgan frowned. The experiments had gone on for days, weeks, and at Morgan’s request his brother had been very light on details. He simply didn’t want to know. Messing with the Typhon was how home had become an apocalyptic wasteland, how almost everyone he’d ever known had died. But if Mikhaila, doctor Igwe, and apparently both Danielle Sho and chief Elazar were on board -- if not physically then at least in spirit -- he felt it was best to give them the benefit of the doubt. But it made his skin crawl. He was deeply uncomfortable with the whole situation, even more uncomfortable than his baseline. 

 

“What’s wrong, Alex? Do I need to bring my gun?”

 

There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end of the line. 

 

“No. Just… come see me. When you’re ready. Take your time.”

 

That was uncharacteristically laissez-faire of him. Morgan was even more worried now. His brother had a tendency to request immediate attention. He’d never told Morgan to take his time. So, of course, Morgan did exactly that. If this was some kind of reverse-psychology, he wasn’t going to fall for it. He took his morning shower, standing in the hot water for a few minutes with his eyes closed. He always enjoyed that feeling of being a little bit incorporeal, of floating in the cascade. 

 

Finally, he got dressed, avoiding the mirror again. His mirror image still gave him nightmares sometimes. One red eye always stared back. He shuddered and tried to shake the image from his mind. He put on grey slacks and a black shirt. Alex hadn’t mentioned the suit, so he wasn’t putting it on. He was adamant about that. 

 

Morgan nudged his coffee cup suspiciously. Something in his brain flexed, ready to kinetically fling it across the room if it didn’t even sound right. He’d been on edge ever since he’d found out there was a Typhon on the station. There was never just one. But with only Alex and him on board, they weren’t going to reproduce. Not at the exponential rate they had back on Talos I, at least. And if Alex died because of the Typhon… it would be his own damn fault, anyway. A full cup of coffee later and Morgan strode through the hallways of Talos IV. 

 

“Typhon material detected.”

 

“Morgan Yu. Oh. Four. Five. One.”

 

“Override detected. Welcome, M. Yu.” Originally, the doors had opened based on voice recognition. The actual phrase hadn’t mattered. But now that there was a Typhon with his memories on board, he wasn’t taking any risks. He followed the red line. His brother met him at the next door. Odd. 

 

“What happened, Alex. Did you accidentally kill it?” Morgan could only hope Alex had realized his mistake, or through sheer thick-headedness accidentally vented the Typhon. Although the thought of a Typhon outside the hull wasn’t any more pleasant. He hadn’t gone on a space-walk in a while, only making an exception to do some small maintenance once, about a month ago. To Morgan’s disappointment, Alex shook his head.

 

“Look, Morgan…” Alex began, seemingly expecting his brother to interrupt him. Morgan instead sipped his coffee. He could be quiet and stare if he had to. Let Alex talk. “Before we go inside… there’s something I need you to know.” Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Look… you and I… we haven’t always been…” Alex paused, fumbling and wringing his hands. What was he getting at? How was this even remotely relevant? “We haven’t always been on the best terms. But I need you to know that… I’m still your brother.”

 

“What did you do, Alex?” Morgan asked coldly. “If you’re asking for forgiveness--”

 

“No! No.” Alex took a deep breath. “I’m not… This isn’t about me.” 

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Morgan was rapidly losing his patience. He hated it when Alex talked in circles. It always felt like he was trying to protect himself, covering for himself. Morgan wasn’t in the mood for it. 

 

“Look… I’m here for you regardless, Morgan.”

 

“What did you do, Alex?” he looked past his brother at the door. “What have you and that Typhon been up to in there?!”

 

“It’s nothing… not quite like that… Just… try not to…” He didn’t finish his sentence. Fantastic. Morgan was, once again, resisting the urge to commit some small violence at his brother for being an insufferably vague bastard.

 

“Typhon material detected,” the door said. 

 

“Blow me,” Morgan said out of habit. Two turrets popped out of their boxes next to the door. Oops. A haze of purple surrounded him. He could take these two on with no trouble, but he’d rather not be responsible for his brother’s perforation. Not yet. Not until he knew what was on the other side of the door. 

 

“Alex Yu! One six five eight!” 

 

“Override detected. Welcome, A. Yu.” Alex breathed a sigh of relief when the two turrets beeped softly and started scanning the area. Morgan shot them a suspicious glance and he couldn’t help but feel like they gave him the stink-eye right back. Part of him wanted to have a go at their internal systems, but he knew Alex would give him flak for it. They finally walked through the open door. 

 

“Just keep an open mind, Morgan,” Alex said as they walked through. Morgan wondered what he’d find as he rounded the corner. Another Typhon? Two? Maybe a mimic on a leash? A litter box, maybe? He was too busy being sarcastic in his own head to really pay attention until he looked at the chair that had held the Typhon last time. There was no Typhon in the chair. Instead, there was a woman. Strong shoulder. Asian heritage. She reminded him of his mother. She was strapped into the chair and regarded him curiously. 

 

“Who is this, Alex?” he said as he looked between her and his brother. He also quickly scanned the room for the Operators, but only saw the four models stacked in a corner, turned off. “Why aren’t the others here?”

 

“We decided it was best to give you some privacy,” Alex said. He was clearly being careful about something. He seemed… guilty? That wasn’t quite it. He was clearly dealing with something, but Morgan couldn’t put his finger on it. When had he brought someone else aboard? He wasn’t even aware there were that many people he didn’t know personally. Maybe one of the techs on board Talos II? A horrifying thought occurred to Morgan.

 

“Have you been experimenting on people again, Alex?” he snarled. He clenched his fists. He’d decided that morning not to attack his brother, but every time they spoke it was like Alex was dead set on getting his teeth kicked in. 

 

“No! No. I think… I think it’s best if I let her tell you… Just… try not to kill... it.” Alex trailed off, and then just… left the room without another word. Morgan stared at the back of his head with confused exasperation. One of these days, Morgan was going to have a good old yell at his brother. Screaming into his pillow at night didn’t cut it anymore. The frustration of being this… abomination was getting to him and his brother just made things worse. He turned to the woman in the chair.

 

“So wh--” he began, and stopped when her eyes locked onto his. They were grey, like his, but they reflected… blue? Slightly purple? But what had really arrested him, what had grabbed his attention by the throat and held it up against the light, was that deep inside, as if he was staring across the vast gulf of space at a single star, were two pinpricks of light. He thought he was imagining it at first, but there was most definitely something in her eyes. A flicker he recognised and definitely didn’t want to recognize.

 

“Good morning, Morgan,” she said calmly. This was impossible. This was wrong. She was an abomination and she shouldn’t be here. He started to panic but realized she was tied down, couldn’t hurt him, couldn’t get to him. But who was she? What was she? He took a deep breath but didn’t lower his guard. The psionic field around him shimmered as he readied himself to do what he had to.

 

“You’re not going to like what I have to say next.”

 

She could have said anything else and it wouldn’t have changed his mind. Not really. But one single phrase had frozen him in his tracks. He looked at her, into her eyes where the two little lights flickered and burned, as if he was searching for something he desperately didn’t want to be there. 

 

“You’re the Typhon,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He knew. He’d seen those eyes in the dark so many, too many times, murdering the entire population of Talos I. He’d recognize them anywhere, no matter how small they were, no matter how human the face in front of them. But whose face was this? Why this face, that reminded him of his mother of all people? Why did this face set his skin on fire?

 

“Yes,” she said. “Alex told me.”

 

He frowned. “What do you mean? You don’t… know?”

 

She shook her head, never taking her eyes off his. It was the most intense gaze he’d ever been under the scrutiny of in his life, and knowing his father, that meant something. She had an intensity to her that reminded him of a look he avoided these days. Usually, he made sure to put a foggy mirror between himself and that look. He pushed that thought aside. It made him want to scratch at his skull. He wondered if she was part telepath, deliberately making him uncomfortable, trying to get inside his head. 

 

“No,” she said softly. “I thought I was… I thought I was human.” She paused and finally looked down. When she looked up at him, there was genuine emotion in her eyes. She looked sorrowful. “Like you.”

 

He gritted his teeth. “I’m nothing like you,” he said. He almost sobbed. This creature was making him violently uncomfortable. Why was she doing this?

 

“Who are you supposed to be, then?” he said as he began to pace back and forth. He had to know whose face she was wearing. If she was Typhon, she could be mimicking someone, but she had to have a template. Was there a body stuffed in a closet somewhere on the station, someone Alex had been experimenting on? Was this how he’d achieved empathy?

 

“Morgan,” she said.

 

“What? What do you want from me?”

 

“No,” she said softly. “My name is Morgan.”

 

“No,” he cried out. “It isn’t.”

 

“My name is Morgan Yu.”