Samoylova sat on the deck in the Workshops, partially concealed by shelving and guarding the door to the accessway to Propulsion One. She had gone ahead of Moussa to verify the lower deck was empty and now she waited while scrolling through the many camera feeds now active on the Nineveh. Moments later, Moussa arrived on the lower deck, pushing a cart with their supplies toward her and he called out that they were ready.

She looked upward to inquire about Holly’s team. “TURING, is anyone else alive?” she asked in a loud voice.

“I’ve been unable to establish contact with Captain Holly, Patterson, or Stocky,” TURING answered from a nearby comms box. “Monitoring systems and the ship’s wireless network are only functioning in Habitation, Command, the Workshops, Aux One, and Propulsion One and Four. It’s possible that some of them are still alive, but their continued survival becomes more remote the longer they remain out of contact.”

I know. “Thanks, TURING.”

“Moussa,” TURING said, “I advise you to assume command of the Nineveh. You are the ranking Officer now and thus eligible.”

“Not just yet,” he said while approaching. “We’ll wait and see.” He looked at Samoylova and shook his head. “No point sitting around like that.”

She grinned while getting up to her feet. It had been a long time since she felt amused and she was grateful to him. Anything positive, no matter how small, was now a treasure. She supposed it had always been that way, and she just hadn’t properly appreciated such gestures.

They each took over a dozen explosive devices in their backpacks. And they had left a few more stashed in the drawers beneath the shop bench. That hidden stash was intended for TURING’s cores, should it become necessary. And maybe they would even have a few left for boobytraps. Just in case the turrets were not enough of a defense.

The pressure of duty (and sacrifice) weighed heavier upon putting on her pack. It was a crushing sense of finality. There was no hope of ever seeing home again. She wanted the ship to never return, and knew that it shouldn’t, and yet it was still a remorseful thing. And she saw in Moussa’s eyes the same conflicting feelings. She took a deep breath and tried to push it all out of her mind. Everyone checks out at some point.

That feeling of heaviness increased further when crossing through the strange machinery layout of Aux One. It became outright suffocating now that the fear had returned. The Aux Systems Gates had always looked strange and sinister – so much so that new hires wondered what the purpose of such a structure was. But now threats appeared to be lurking all throughout the maze of isolated compartments and winding systems access ducts because they could be. And Pazuzu was an apex predator in this environment.

Her heart raced and her breath was almost panting while panning her weapon toward anything that appeared unusual. And she trusted herself less and less each time the second glance confirmed the ‘phantom’ that she had seen was imaginary. She strained to listen but could only hear the hum and rumble of the machinery. But that sounded off too. And she knew that it was because much of the ship was isolated and so no longer being serviced (although malicious alteration would have the same effect).

The Gate sounded dead. It felt dead. Almost like what it had been with Aux Two. She forced herself to walk further despite her fear. And in truth, that became easier to do once she was far enough from the accessway to the Workshops so that it was equally threatening to turn back.

She compelled her mind to think of Russia, and of Sol in general. She still had purpose in the form of giving hope to them. Mankind had long contemplated facing a more advanced adversity. The United Nations and Triumvirate called their plan for such an occurrence the Honeybee Contingency.

They had turned toward nature for their answer. The Asian Giant Hornet was a fierce predator which was utterly immune to the mandibles and stings of the honeybees which it preyed upon. And yet those bees had created a method of defense that worked – which was wholly based on energy. Honeybees would swarm the invader and vibrate – raising the local temperature to where the hornet couldn’t survive. And though swarms of bees would die by that practice, the hive was often saved.

The Triumvirate and UN planners imitated this sort of defense. They had recognized that a more advanced invader was not just attacking Earth but also its star. Far less than one millionth of the Sun’s solar output shined upon the Earth. The great majority of it radiated out into space. Mankind had now tapped much of this wasted energy with vast collector stations and could direct it toward threats.

Like the honeybees, mankind only appeared defenseless to a predator.

She made eye contact with Moussa a few times while winding around the interior compartments. His panicked, wide-eyed gaze and the sweat on his brow showed that he felt the fear too. And she was glad that she hadn’t just lost her nerve. They were afraid because Pazuzu was a lethal threat.

We simply must recognize anything that can kill De Silva and Patterson is a nearly insurmountable threat. We must spot the thing before it spots us.

Samoylova checked her tablet while approaching the accessway to Propulsion Four. “It looks like the way is safe.”

“Let’s move quick,” Moussa said. He now began to trot forward. And the sound of his voice convinced her that he more wanted to be out of Aux One than in a hurry to start their work.

She grabbed the shoulder straps of her pack for extra support and jogged after him. She watched him bank a right off the main walkway and she followed, and then they huddled against some large coolant piping. She set her heavy pack down and readied her firearm.

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“Glad that’s behind us,” Moussa said. He took a long, slow breath. “TURING, close both of the accessway doors between here and Aux One.”

“Closing them now,” TURING said. “I’ll notify you if they open.”

He looked at her. “We should be able to work undisturbed now.”

She wasn’t so sure. Looking all around, she began searching for places where a threat could hide. And also for places where they could make a standing fight if Pazuzu followed them – for they couldn’t retreat.

The Propulsion Gates were different than most areas in the ship. No decks – just a vast chamber with the great fusion core and Lorentz force engines laid out amidst supporting machinery snaking all through the Gate and leaving only a maze of constricted catwalks for personnel access. The layout had a distinct emptiness, yet also hinted at hidden dangers. These characteristics now seemed threatening – almost as much as Aux One had appeared. An enemy could watch them from quite some distance away, and she remembered how Stocky had stalked and killed them in the drill.

Her focus on the foreboding machinery must have unnerved her companion. He tapped her on the knee. “You alright?” he asked. His eyes were wide with concern.

She recognized his response and tried to calm herself. It was good to be alert, but not to cause unwarranted panic. “I just want to make sure we’re really alone.”

“There’s nobody else…” He paused and then raised his finger up to his mouth to signal quiet. He whispered. “Let’s be sure.” He quietly lowered his pack and readied his weapon.

She nodded and quietly began walking away from him, crouching against the machinery for cover. She intently listened to the vibrant sounds in the Gate. Everywhere came the low rumbling of the engines and supporting systems. She carefully avoided drawing too near to noisy equipment – pumps, HVAC blowers, etc. She wouldn’t allow their sound to mask more threatening ones.

She also kept some focus on Moussa while he was within view. He scoured about in a far clumsier manner. The sight of it gave her twisted, sickening relief. He would likely draw Pazuzu’s attack, sparing her. But she would lose a friend, and she hated that she felt safer because he would draw it to him.

She tried to push those thoughts out of her mind with false promises that they would surprise the Creature. And everything could be killed with enough gunfire. Even still, her hands trembled as she climbed up onto one of the high catwalks for a better view. (She knew it was a lie.) A thud sounded nearby, like someone (or something) leaping onto a metal plate.

She crouched down and looked in the direction of the noise. Nothing moved. Is that real? It hadn’t sounded like a person, but more like an animal. A four-legged creature for sure. And she tried to remember when she last saw Ghost – it was many hours ago. It was before those Pazuzu-abominations attacked the Mess.

But time had become a blur. Although she was aware of the passage of time she could no longer measure it. Everything seemed very real and yet off – like a dream. Maybe she had seen Ghost more recently? But the thud sounded too heavy to be him!

She waited, and looked, and listened. A glance at her tablet showed that the accessways were still clear. She cautiously walked across the catwalk, making use of its elevated height to gain an overview of everything in the Gate. And then she climbed down the ladder on the other end and slowly worked her way toward the noise.

She crouched behind cover and listened for any unusual sound, but only heard the low rumble of the machinery. Satisfied that there were no threats nearby, she began to look around in the outboards. A small bundle of gray fur outboard of the catwalk caught her eye. She knew it was from Ghost but it could have been there for weeks. But then she found another bundle not far away.

“Ghost,” she whispered. “Here, kitty!”

She looked around for her cat now thinking that the earlier thud might had been him. Leaning over the handrail and pulling out her flashlight, she looked underneath the catwalk. There were more bundles of fur and what looked like vomit. “Ghost,” she called again with greater concern.

Are you here?

She looked around a while longer but found nothing. Ghost wasn’t here and neither was any threat. Although that brought some relief from her incessant fear, it also brought sadness. Ghost was dead just like most of her crewmates. She went to the accessway to Aux One and rigged a boobytrap. Then she walked to Moussa and lowered her weapon. “Did you see or hear anything?”

“Nah, it’s just us and the machinery.” He calmly worked at the supervisory console in the main passageway, not looking at her, and shutting down every system that wasn’t needed. There would be a diminished chance for harmful power instabilities (during detonation) on the ship’s main electrical buses if most equipment wasn’t working to begin with.

“Any sign of Ghost?”

He took a deep breath and shook his head. “I haven’t seen him in forever.” Sadness marked his eyes.

Alright then. “I guess I’m a bit spooked.” She told herself to let go and focus on their work. There was still a chance that Stocky or Holly would return safely and weren’t compromised by Pazuzu. That had to be enough hope to hold onto for now.

“It was good that we checked,” Moussa said. Let’s do this quick. I don’t want Propulsion to be the place we make our last stand.”

She wanted to avoid a fight for survival here too. And she desired to return to a more normal environment as soon as possible. “We could just modify the software. It would be faster.”

“No,” he said. “We’re not relying on that alone. Sci-Med said Pazuzu knows a lot about this ship and how it runs. Our work must guarantee that the Nineveh cannot jump to FTL. Those aliens aboard the derelict wrecked their ship to strand Pazuzu out here, and we must do like they did.” He wrapped his fingers around one of the small bombs to make like a fist. “Help me put these on the sweet spots.”

She nodded and tried to put her worries out of her mind so that she could efficiently focus on the task. Once Pazuzu was done with Holly’s team it would come for them. And they weren’t superhuman like Patterson and Stocky.

Moussa walked to an access panel for one of the field shaping magnets. He pulled a powered torque wrench from his backpack. “Let’s see how this will go,” he said, and then he began to remove the fastening bolts one by one. The motor’s whirring blended with the hum of the Gate’s machinery. And then he removed the plate to the sound of metal clanging against metal.

She stepped away from him, cautious of the thermal shock which would result from exposing that deep cold environment to the normal temperature of the Gate. She had a thought to warn him to be careful but believed he had to know what he was doing.

He backed away from the sudden chill as if surprised by it, and then he set the plate down and looked at her. “That’s not as loud as I’d feared.”

She stared at the exposed insulation which housed the shaping magnets and supporting cooling system underneath, expecting something to hear something burst from thermal shock. “It’s not that quiet either.”

“True.” He scratched his head, seemingly unconcerned. “Why don’t you verify the breaker is dead, and then place your first device there. Then you can join me with this.”

She looked at the exposed machinery and was relieved that nothing violently shattered while he was directly in front of it. But he would hopefully be more careful when opening the others. Or maybe he would be sensible enough to wait for her. The spacetime geometry engine would warm now that the cooling system was shut off and the system was opened to the larger environment. She then nodded and went her way.