Samoylova had followed Moussa to the Workshops. Knowing that they would have several minutes before Stocky and Holly arrived, they quickly mopped parts of the decking in the Workshops and Propulsion One with a bleach solution. She questioned whether that would be enough to throw Stocky off of their own trails of scent and he reminded her of how Stocky couldn’t smell anything unusual in Aux Two because of the waste treatment plant. Also, he himself would strongly smell of acrid smoke.
After a quick job to stink up the place, they turned off their tablets so that TURING couldn’t locate them. (Although the recorded history of their movements would indicate they were travelling to Command.) Then they staged portable cameras to watch the others go by using a spare tablet used for maintenance activities.
Samoylova then hid in the cramped space of the isothermal chamber within the Workshops. They had seen Holly and Stocky enter Propulsion One ten minutes ago and they had not turned back. Patterson hadn’t been with them, apparently not having survived the fire. A sick irony. And also a circumstance that made their long-term survival more precarious.
She looked in Moussa’s eyes after watching Holly’s group pass on to Propulsion One. Neither had to speak to convey to the other that they recognized that they weren’t going to outlast Pazuzu’s contagions without medical expertise.
She felt numb and recognized it was the work of shock. She was well aware of the dangerous nature of the void and accepted had accepted that a chance of death came with this career. But she had never considered checking out by being processed into a monster bent on killing those she loved. She saw a sadness underneath Moussa’s obvious fatigue. It had to be even worse for him.
Neither had to say anything to know it was time to do their work. They could only wait so long as for the Gates to be clear. She followed Moussa out and then rebooted their tablets. The Gate still had a strong smell of bleach from the work they did to cover their trails.
“TURING, where’s the rest of the crew?” Moussa asked.
“Holly and Stocky have ventured to Sci-Med to determine whether Patterson survived. I can no longer locate or contact them.”
He turned to her.
She shrugged her shoulders. “We can’t help them now.”
He nodded after a pause. “I suppose you’re right. I didn’t foresee them trying that.”
“They might not be in their right minds.”
He walked over to a workbench and she followed. He first opened a drawer underneath and got a backpack for each of them. “How long do you think we can be confident about one another?” He switched on the overhead light, driving away the darkness that made her want to sleep.
She thought about how to answer that. Declaring a time limit would only lead to more distrust as the hours passed. Denying the problem would cause distrust too. She thought about Nieves’ condition after the poison gas attack. It was clear that she hadn’t been well, the only question was the cause. “I think Nieves was sick since the Captain died. You and I aren’t.”
She hoped he understood her meaning. They would have several hours to notice something was wrong with the other before they had to worry about becoming hostile.
He leaned over, resting his elbows on the bench. And he breathed deeply of frustration. “That makes sense. I suppose we should use this time wisely.”
“How do you plan on denying Pazuzu the ability to go to FTL?”
“We’ll use thermite. I want to destroy every stage in the power transfer from the fusion reactor to the space-time geometry engine in Propulsion Four. We’ll try to avoid causing any damage to the reactor though. It would be good to have it operable as a backup to Propulsion One.”
“Yeah, we can’t be sure about the reactors in Two and Three anymore.” She rested her hands on the bench. “Don’t you think all that water we pumped in Four will be a problem?”
“Eventually. We can 3dprint some containers to try to collect it later – if the diseases don’t kill us first. I just want to focus on this now.” He forced a smile at her, trying to show confidence but only making their depressive setting worse. “Are the cameras hidden? Will they know they’re being watched if they come back this way?”
“I can make it a little better.”
“Do so. And stay vigilant.”
She nodded. “Keep a gun on you.” Don’t let work distract you from being ready for a fight.
“I will. Stay in touch.”
She walked over to a series of cabinets and retrieved batteries, a knife, and a tube of adhesive, which she shoved in her backpack. Then she headed toward Propulsion One and left him to work alone. She tucked her laser pistol in her belt in the small of her back and felt her revolver for confidence while the door opened. And she heard the Workshop’s cargo elevator cycle behind her. Then she walked into the accessway.
She figured Moussa would be hunting all over for supplies. They had a tough task ahead of them because of conflicting requirements – cause a lot of damage to what they wanted to destroy but no damage to equipment nearby. She hoped he took her warning seriously, because they hadn’t searched the area for the Creature. And a Pazuzu thrall could break in at any time regardless.
She hoped Holly and Stocky were still alive. She wanted them to live, she wanted them all to somehow live. But, also, if they were dead, then Moussa and her would be the only targets left for Pazuzu.
“TURING, close both of Propulsion One’s access doors and force passcode entry.”
“Door closing,” TURING answered.
She walked all the way down to the end of the passageway to test the door. It did not open on approach and she was satisfied. “Notify me if anyone or anything is detected entering Command.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I will.”
She felt a rush of anger from within as the thought that she might soon be striking up conversations with TURING just to have someone to talk to popped into her mind. No, I’ll take off in the Piloting Module if it comes to that. No point in stretching things out.
She surveyed the passageways for locations where the cameras would be well hidden, and then she swapped out their batteries for good measure and affixed them. She couldn’t resist occasionally glancing toward the door to Propulsion One while she worked. After verifying the feed on her tablet she went back to the Workshops.
Moussa wasn’t at the workbench anymore. She noticed the silencing effect of the soft rubber floor tiles as she approached the bench. She could barely hear her own footsteps. Anything could be creeping unnoticed in the Gate. She quickly looked around the bench and saw Moussa had taken his weapons and then she backed out of the light and into the darker areas.
Her gaze methodically swept around the Gate. The quiet and emptiness almost seemed threatening. It felt like Moussa and her were the only ones left in all Delta-Hydri. She pulled her laser pistol and waited and listed. Time passed slowly, and only the low rumble of the air circulation system gave accounting for it.
Finally confident there were no stalkers, she started the comms app on her tablet. She concentrated on her speech to not make her fright evident. “Moussa, how’s your work coming.”
“Going good, I think. You’re done?”
“Yeah.”
“I should be done in twenty or so. Then I’ll test one of these. I’m 3dprinting a model for that test now. You know…cause plenty of damage to what we want and not much harm to anything else.”
She knew. She hoped it would go that way. “You’re on the middle deck?”
“Yup.”
“I’ll come up on the cargo elevator. Have you seen or heard anything?”
“No, this place is empty. The weirdness of it is getting on my nerves. I have to focus on work or I get paranoid.”
She knew the feeling. And she knew that what he didn’t say was that being with someone else brought along a different kind of fear.
----------------------------------------
Patterson slowly slipped into her suit, trying her best not to aggravate her skin. She had applied more of the ointment as an added precaution. Although her skin (and likely also her companions’) didn’t hurt as much now, and she was confident they were all glad about that. Who knows what kind of movements they would have to perform to creep and fight through the hostile Gates?
She couldn’t afford to let anything distract her focus. Not pain, not fear, not fatigue, and not even her love. It was strange that a person had to sometimes ignore loved ones to properly show love for them. She wouldn’t ask Pazuzu why that was so – it knew no love.
She thought more about her experience in Berthing with James. It was burned into her mind.
But it was no longer terrifying. He did love her. He loved her enough to postpone what he desired. What he needed – and it was a need for him. It was so strong of a need that he journeyed through Pazuzu’s hell to get her back. He would never hurt her or let her be hurt. Strength, desire, and respect were such an erotic mix. He had earned his reward.
She closed her eyes and imagined again being in his strong arms. And his hands, not the fabric of her suit, roughly moved over her skin to mark her and have her. She imagined him desperate and forceful as before. She remembered his need. The tips of his fingers scraped her flesh as he ravished her.
She pleaded (not completely honestly) for a gentle touch, but he was possessed with desire and could only control himself so much. And that was perfect. He laid her down exactly as he wanted and bent her to his will. His skin pressed tightly against hers and his hot breath blew over her face. She had to satisfy him fully. He would accept nothing less. His hands left nothing untouched.
She smiled in satisfaction and realized that it wasn’t just her little fantasy that had been pleasing. Her suit felt a little tighter between her thighs than she had remembered. She let out a soft laugh. The payback was due; she had long done this to him. She turned toward her helmet and her own reflection upon it.
A panicked thought about making herself look right filled her mind. James had already taken her who knows how many times in his mind. He had long held to a fantasy, a perfect fantasy of her. She couldn’t match that without her best effort.
She got the key she kept hidden underneath the mat under her desk and opened the drawers. She first found her razor and pocketed it. She would use some of the water they pumped out of Farm and Green to shave her legs. She needed a silky-smooth texture. She didn’t have enough pocket space to take a lot of makeup, and it was likely all expired anyways. She did, however, perform a quick visual check and sniff test of her mascara and lipstick.
She felt better upon pocketing them. She didn’t fully know how deep James’ fantasies went – fantasies about an idealized version of herself. That fact together with the certainty that she would soon be in his arms and with all of him inside of her made her jitter with tension. How would that change her relationship with him, and how would she balance his needs with the need to be respectful to the other survivors? She recognized that she was already in a tricky situation and she didn’t have all the answers.
She then forced her mind clear of those worries. It was time for them to fight. She remembered Chandna-Pazuzu’s confession: “I kill those I meet, doctor.”
So can I.
Few splicers tried to take things to the limit. But most of them that did so didn’t respect the official limits. They would possess a little designer gene every generation that they could swear was a chance genetic mutation. But it was genetic cheating.
She possessed long spidroin protein (improvements on spidroin-1 and spidroin-2 found in dragline silk, with longer beta-sheets for rigidity) fibers crossing through her dermis and subcutaneous tissue. She was certain the high tensile strength enhancement was intended to give support to her bust. But it also resulted in a substantially decreased chance that a stab or shot would penetrate to vital organs.
Pazuzu already knew that she “had a little monster in her” and so she couldn’t surprise him with her ability. But she was grateful to be a lot tougher than she looked. She could help James.
She picked up her helmet and pushed lingering thoughts of consummating their marriage out of her mind. She had left Fuller (thinking he was dead) in Systems Access to succumb to a horrific sort of absorption process. And the same thing certainly happened to De Silva. She wouldn’t let it happen again. None of them must fall behind or get separated from the group when they crossed. And she needed her mind focused and sharp to make sure none did.
And if Pazuzu really was creeping though the galaxy like how it bragged, then it would understand her destroying it out of necessity. What goes around comes around. And if he thought killing the natural born humans in her crew proved his invincibility then she would show him his error.
She walked out and saw James in the hall. She looked in his eyes and saw a clear-headed gaze. Her earlier spellcraft had worn off, and she was glad of it. “What are you thinking?”
“I think we’re going to have to fight,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.
“I know that. What do you think our plan should be?”
He thought silently for a moment. “Getting Holly to Command is top priority. Although, if we spot the De Silva-creature alone then we quickly waste it. Otherwise, we should only keep Pazuzu’s creatures away from us, and hurry through Aux Two and Propulsion Two. We can let her go the rest of the way once we get to Habitation.”
She nodded. “And then?”
He shrugged indecisively, but his eyes blazed with predatory focus. “It depends on what condition we’re in at that point. But if we’re fit, it might be better for the Nineveh for us to do as much harm as we can.”
His aggression didn’t surprise her, and as she thought about the weaknesses she saw in the Pazuzu-thralls they had previously faced she began to feel that his suggestion may be the appropriate response. At the very least, it was worth trying. She saw the determination in his eyes and concentrated on matching it. “Yes it would.” She knew the Pazuzu infestation had spread too far to be fully extinguished. But they could crush the Creature. And the infected Gates would then become Pazuzu’s prison.