Holly and the crew spent the next ten and a half hours getting rest and then preparing Farm and Green for the burn. Her command would soon be down to five Gates. She tried to convince herself that losing over half the ship was inevitable with her limited crew.
They incrementally set up for the operation, per her instruction, because everything was lost after the burn. And she wanted everyone partly refreshed before they commenced something so dangerous. The goal was to have everyone out of the Gates and then initiate the fire remotely. But a single mistake could initiate the blaze while there were people still inside.
She thought about Moussa’s earlier story about fire, and she talked to him more about it. The heat from the fire would have nowhere to go, and so the rate of temperature increase would itself keep increasing. And that meant more things would burn, and more oxygen would be depleted – until there was no oxygen. She put the thoughts out of her mind to get a few hours of sleep for herself and then she thought of them some more when she resumed working.
Patterson had tested everyone again while she had slept. And she came by to test her once she woke. She asked about the results and Patterson privately told her that there weren’t any conclusive results. Samoylova was fine, but everyone else’s blood chemistry was too abnormal to draw positive conclusions from.
Finding out that her own test results were suspicious was concerning. But she thought there might be another cause for it. I can’t be infected. If I were then I wouldn’t care about protecting the ship. “Maybe Samoylova checks out because she has recently had rest?”
“I’ve had similar suspicions,” Patterson said. “Most of us are badly sleep deprived and we have skin cells dying and breaking down because of the urticant.”
“I want Moussa to take a long rest after we do this. Test him again once he wakes and see if his blood clears up.”
Patterson agreed but then started getting pushy about the pace of work. She told her that none of them had ever done this before. They had only one chance to get it right.
She grew angrier with Patterson’s desire for a quick job as time dragged on. She understood the potential danger of Pazuzu infesting the Gates. But Patterson needed to better appreciate the need to protect the crew and the ship itself. She started avoiding her, fearing an argument would further erode the crew’s fragile morale. Moussa eventually explained to Patterson that they needed the greenery to dry out after stopping misting, and they had to set up CO2 scrubbers to extend the oxygen in the Gates for a longer burn.
She took a walk into the Workshops and Aux One after Patterson left to see the results of their work. She had no idea how Moussa was pumping out the water, but she could see its effects from overflowing tanks and water spouting out of pipe ends opened by removing their flanges. She prayed he was right about the spillage not being a problem. He said only the ship’s rotation may be slightly affected.
She obtained a fire responder suit from the central damage control station in Aux One. The many open lockers testified that the others were also getting ready for the blaze. Her tired body seemed to whisper in her mind. It told her to find a quiet spot to lay down instead of putting the suit’s weight on.
She ignored the rebellion of her flesh and slipped into the suit, excepting the breather mask, gloves, and hood. She tucked her gloves in a cargo pocket and lugged her hood and SCBA over her shoulder. Then she went back to the barn to assemble for the operation, and she called the others. Patterson was killing the animals via lethal injection. Mercy? Pazuzu wouldn’t do that, would it?
They began to gather around, and she had their attention. “I saw the other Gates filling up with the evacuated water. We’re ready?”
“We are if our starter material in Aux One has dried,” Stocky said. He examined everyone’s attire.
She had seen the plant matter that they had in the controlled environment room to desiccate. “We’ll check that right after this. How will this go down, Moussa?”
He shook his head with an anxious grin, still uncomfortable with the idea. “Stocky and I got the power generation unit in Propulsion Four set up to surge power through the marked lighting fixtures and charging stations in these Gates. The overcurrent will start the fire, and the dried shrubbery should keep it going long enough to raise the heat to ignite most everything else.”
“Most everything?”
“Once there’s no more oxygen there will be no more burning,” he said. “We’ve got CO2 scrubbers and an oxygen bleed set up to prolong the burning. Probably only for a minute. It won’t all burn. But the temperature will be in the hundreds for days like she said.”
“Is that good enough?”
“Yes,” Patterson said.
“Temperature and pressure will rise extremely fast once this starts,” Moussa said. “You’ll only have seconds to evacuate once the general material starts to burn in the overheads. Be vigilant for any sparking. Keep your breather on because the fumes can knock you out.
The ignition shouldn’t happen until I manually initiate it in Propulsion Four. But we haven’t spent the proper time to verify that.”
“Get the remaining material staged and then get out. No breaks, no dawdling. All of us will assemble at the supervisory consoles of Propulsion Four and then we’ll initiate the burn.” That was the immediate part, but she remembered what she had done earlier and knew there was more for her to do over the weeks and months ahead. “And I’ll do better about not letting my own insecurities divide us.”
She looked over her team while she draped her insulating hood over her helmet. Moussa and Nieves had donned all their protective gear except for their breathing mask. Nieves’ eyes were covered by tinted goggles. Stocky was wearing everything except his mask, hood, and gloves. Patterson and Samoylova wore only their coat, trousers, and boots. Piles of SCBAs and other equipment were scattered nearby.
It was essential to fully cover your body when working in proximity to fires (of the potential for them). But that covering now seemed sinister. Was one of them breaking out in lesions or discoloration? Impossible to tell. The clothing hid their flesh from observation just as well as it hid it from radiative heat.
She focused on their faces – particularly for those who were partially obscured with helmet and hood. There was very little human to look at, and she wished she made them strip for visual examination during the last blood test. It’s not even proven to work. The idea then occurred to her to have them all do it now.
But the thought of standing in their skivvies while equipment was set up to burn was scary too. They should finish the operation first. Then she would see who continued to sweat. “I want everyone to get your full suit on after we break. And I want a positive report that your breather works. We can’t afford mistakes.”
She looked up. “TURING, do you have any input?”
“Nothing to add, Captain. Be safe.”
She looked back at Moussa. “Anything else.”
“Just this. This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. O LORD, save us; O LORD, grant us success.”
She cracked a smile. “Amen to that. Let’s break. Stocky and Moussa, get our wicker.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Aye,” they said.
“I’ll go with you,” Patterson said, and she followed.
Holly sat down on piled bags of sod, trying to be completely still. The nap had sharpened her mind, but she felt weak with the weight of the suit. Even worse, the stiff material harshly rubbed against her inflamed skin when she moved. Could she even run if she had to? She looked at her fellows. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good,” Samoylova said while putting on the rest of her clothing.
“I’m better now,” Nieves said with evident exhaustion, “but let’s get this done quick.”
“That’s the plan. Sit and rest until they get back.”
Moussa’s party returned a short while later with pallets of desiccated material. They dressed and began to spread out among the two Gates. Patterson, Stocky, and Samoylova took Green, and she kept the rest to work in Farm. She opened a charging panel for the gardening bots and taped some of the dried material to the sparking apparatus that had been installed. Pain surged through her body and she wished that she had reapplied the cream before getting in the suit.
It should have been a short job, but she messed up the bundle again and again because of the limited dexterity she had wearing the gloves. Her hands shook with nervousness and the irritation killed her focus. She finally thought she got it right and stepped away to look at it from a distance before moving on to the next panel. Loud popping roared throughout the Gate and the strobing lights of the fire alarm system kicked in.
She was sure at first that she had imagined it. A hallucination – hopefully just from the stress. But then the panel before her violently arced with electricity and the wicker was enveloped in fire. She leaped back on instinct. Too soon.
Something struck her from behind before she could speak. The force of the blow awkwardly shifted her helmet to the side and she fell on the ground. But the safety helmet did its job in protecting her skull. After a second, she felt a throbbing pain in her head.
She turned and looked up. A humanlike form spun all around (and its surroundings did too) and she could not gaze at it properly. Straining to focus, she got a good look at the name patch and knew it was Nieves. She was a thrall of Pazuzu. How long?
Nieves-Pazuzu threw her helmet down (apparently having used that to hit Holly) and held up a utility knife. “And there was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven. We were driven to you, and we will end you.”
Her muscles momentarily stiffened, but then she relaxed and readied herself for the end. Smoke filled the air. And then the lights went out.
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Samoylova knew the value of caution. And she knew that things weren’t always what they appeared to be. Others had not known that lesson, and she once watched a squad perish. The truth terrified them just before they died. They saw their end with no time to change the outcome.
She replayed that time in her mind again and again while thinking about her present situation. She secured the desiccated plant stalks to the equipment she and Nieves had set up. She worked quickly to minimize her time in the panels. They were potentially dangerous. And so were her crewmates.
Patterson, Stocky, Nieves, and Holly were covered in sores. And she concluded that they were each sick as well. Their coughing wasn’t just a lingering effect of the nettle agent. She also judged them to be perspiring more than they should. But they weren’t yet sick the way Garvey and Qureshi had been. They had shown no sign of delirium.
She had convinced herself that they were going to have time to finish preparing their defenses before Pazuzu struck again. They could trust each other’s work (until those four eventually lost their minds) and strengthen Command Gate for a lengthy siege. And it seemed that as soon as that conviction had taken hold, she had finished the work in her first panel.
She then walked toward her last panel, dragging the desiccated bundle behind her. This one was near the accessway to Farm Gate because she had chosen to complete the work in the panel furthest from safety first. A series of violent pops echoed through the Gate, and she heard Patterson scream. The panel in front of her sparked with brilliant flashes. And then the fire alarm drowned out all other sounds.
Samoylova only froze for a moment once the flames burst from electrical panels. The blaze immediately worked through the kindle and thick columns of smoke rose and merged at the ceiling. Refusing to panic, she bent her head down to keep it away from the rapidly heating overheads and she sprinted for the nearby accessway to Farm.
She shouted over their comms channel. “Everyone to Propulsion Four, now!” A chorus of panicked shouting mixed with her plea. She hoped Patterson and Stocky was behind her but she did not stop or turn back.
Arriving in Farm, she saw the two nearer to her escape. And the smoke had not yet impaired her vision appreciably. Nieves was standing over Holly, blade drawn, but there was no way to see which one had been taken by Pazuzu because they were both fully covered by the fire suits. And there was no time to think.
She drew her revolver (which she had tucked into a pocket) but the lights died before she could take aim. She dropped to a knee and adjusted her eyes to the dim orange glow that filled the Gate. She then fired three rounds off a quick aim at the person who was standing. Nieves dropped to her knees and tried to turn toward her before collapsing.
Samoylova kept her gun drawn while rushing over to them. She felt a hard pat on her shoulder and turned to see Moussa. She pointed at Holly and he ran ahead and lifted her up. And then together they ran into the accessway corridor leading to Propulsion Four, which was now lit with strobing lights.
Moussa lay Holly down, who appeared to be unconscious. He removed her mask and checked her breathing and pulse. “How did you know who was an imposter?” he yelled.
“Nieves wouldn’t attack someone. Even if provoked.” She bent her revolver’s cylinder forward and reloaded.
They looked back into Farm, which was now filled with thick smoke, as the accessway door shut. They could feel the air pressure climbing fast. And the breeze rushing past them was hot. “TURING,” Moussa said, “do you hold contact with them?”
“Negative,” TURING said, “the temperature in the overheads is far too high for surveillance equipment operation. But temperatures are lower at ground level.”
“Keep these doors unlocked.” He looked at her after hearing TURING’s affirmative. “They still could make it. We left a path for quick egress. And we’ll vent some of the heat and pressure when we cross into Propulsion.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Samoylova said. “But maybe we should watch them for a while before we decide they are with us.” She looked sternly in his eyes and added, “Watch them from a distance.”
He glanced down at Holly and then turned back to her and nodded. “Follow me. I know how to hide from Stocky.” He got up to his feet and jogged to the access door to Propulsion Four.
Samoylova followed him, leaving Holly alone. Stocky and Patterson would come soon.
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In a dream, Holly felt someone slapping her cheek and she opened her eyes. A large dark figure loomed over her. At first the vision was all light and shadow and seemed to spin. And she heard labored breathing – like a monster. Slowly, she made out a soot covered fire responder suit. Stocky…it had to be.
She now concluded that she wasn’t dreaming. “Beware of Nieves.”
He spoke in between long breaths. “I know. She’s burning in Farm.”
Dead. Even though she knew Pazuzu’s thralls had to be destroyed, the loss hurt. She had again failed her responsibility. And certainly, it wouldn’t be the last time. “Where are we?” She slowly sat up. It took far more effort than she expected it to. And then she remembered the suit she was wearing, and that it was heavy.
“Accessway between Farm and Propulsion Four. You’re safe.”
“The others?” She looked up at him with fear.
“I haven’t seen Moussa or Samoylova. I think I saw Patterson – just a silhouette in the smoke – during the fire. I think she was trying to retreat to Propulsion Three, and I’m headed there.”
She grabbed his arm. “No!” She pointed at the door to Farm. “You can’t!”
He shook his head. “Not that way.” He lifted her to her feet. And then he walked past her toward Propulsion Four.
Alone. She let that thought sink in her head. He was going through Aux Two alone, and in doing so she would be left alone. She called after him. “You can’t go that way either!”
He glanced back toward her. “I’m going after her, Captain.”
She shook her head. “TURING, seal the door!”
“I’m sorry, Captain,” TURING said, “I’m forbidden from interfering with Sci-Med activities.”
He turned back at her and smiled in satisfaction as the door opened.
“You don’t even know if she’s alive! TURING, do you know?”
“Communication with Sci-Med and Propulsion Three has been severed,” TURING said. “However, those Gates should be able to sustain life for more than twenty-four hours.”
“Come with me to Command,” Stocky said, extending a hand to her. “Take off in the Piloting Module. Don’t worry about me, I was always going to end as disposable product.”
She looked at him for a silent minute. What is she to you? She began to walk toward him as if mesmerized. The fear of being alone pushed her forward with no conscious thought. “Wait,” she cried in a trepid voice. “I’ll go with you.”
“You should launch.”
It was a reasonable suggestion. But there were so many responsibilities to attend to. Responsibilities that she wasn’t ready for and she had not managed well. But just maybe she could make a difference for him now. “The goal is still to survive if we can. We need to get everyone together. Let’s start with her then.”
He silently looked at her as if thinking about it. “Alright, follow me.”
She nervously crossed her arms across her chest as the new situation sank in. It’s not my ship and crew anymore. The realization of her failure was crushing only for a moment and then all the weight vanished. She no longer needed to worry about the obligations of command, and she was free to do what she saw as right. She followed him and they obtained their EVA suits in Command Gate.