Migration by Julie E. Czerneda

landing site.”
    Mac’s nod was heartfelt. She’d no desire to return there herself. “Thanks,” she said.
    Another dismissive gesture. “Next time, don’t make promises you shouldn’t.” Her face softened. “It’s good to see you again, Mac. Even if you have tamed your hair.”
    “Easier to keep bugs out,” Mac said, giving the curls a deprecating yank.
    ’Sephe chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it. Good night, Mac.” The Ministry agent walked to the door.
    She knew better . Mac couldn’t stop herself. “Wait. Please.”
    ’Sephe paused, eyes never blinking. She had a way of becoming still that went deeper than not moving, as if she disengaged everything but her attention. Her students, Mac decided, were going to find that ability disconcerting .
    “Have you—is there—” She sounded like a blithering idiot. Mac took a steadying breath. “It’s been over four months. I’m not asking you to breach protocols or orders,” she hastened before the other could say a word. “I—it hasn’t been easy, not knowing what’s happened, who might be . . .” her voice failed and Mac coughed to cover it. “If there’s anything you can tell me, anything at all, I’d be grateful.”
    Maybe ’Sephe had listened to her nightmares. For the briefest of instants, Mac saw sympathy in the other’s eyes and felt a rush of hope. Then ’Sephe shook her head. “Mac, I can’t. News is locked up tight, these days. Even if I had any myself, it would be classified by the Interspecies Union. It’s not just the Ministry, or Earth, in this. You, of all people, know that. We aren’t alone—or even the ones most at risk right now. We can’t think in terms of one species, let alone one person.”
    Aliens. Had there really been a time, Mac wondered, when they didn’t matter to her? When she’d truly believed that what took place outside this one world’s thin coat of atmosphere was insignificant, without meaning to her life? She wouldn’t go back to that ignorance, would never again accept so small and inaccurate a view of reality. No matter the cost.
    As well think salmon didn’t need trees .
    “I understand.” She lifted and dropped one shoulder.
    “I’m sorry I—”
    “Don’t apologize,” ’Sephe told her, shaking her head in emphasis. “You didn’t ask to be involved. Hell, none of us did.”
    Mac surprised herself by smiling at this.
    ’Sephe took a step closer and lowered her voice. “I can tell you one thing, for what good it does. He checks on you, Mac. As often as he can. There’s a breach of protocol for you.” A flicker of a grin. “Drives the deputy minister bats.”
    He? Nikolai Trojanowski. If it were true . . . Mac locked her reaction away so quickly even she wasn’t sure how she felt. It didn’t matter. ’Sephe was trying to distract her, deflect her curiosity in a safer direction.
    You need lessons from Emily .
    Mac had learned the hard way to ignore outrageous claims about men. She’d have never lasted one Saturday night out with Em otherwise. “I appreciate everyone’s efforts, whether security or on staff,” she said blandly, refusing to ask anything else. It revealed too much, at no gain. “Speaking of staff, ’Sephe, I hope you enjoy being busy. At Norcoast, we keep our people on the run.”
    Chuckling at the in-joke, poor as it was, ’Sephe’s eyes brightened. “I’m looking forward to it. In case you had doubts, I am an excellent statistician.”
    She hadn’t, actually. No matter what references or threats backed an applicant’s claim, to get past Kammie in an interview, ’Sephe would have to be exceptional and prove it. “A skill useful at the Ministry, no doubt.”
    “Extra-Sol Human Affairs. That wretched hive of bookkeepers and actuaries.” Mac must have looked skeptical, for ’Sephe gave a short laugh. “I’m not joking. When the alert came from the IU, the Ministry had to scour the ranks to find anyone with the right clearances who qualified for