=You may have reason,= said Parikkal. =But that is a later discussion. The need is for the equation to be balanced.=
=There is no time We will have to discard the redundant ourselves.= Silloin bared her long brown teeth. It would take her maybe five seconds to rip Kamala's throat out. And even though Silloin was the dino most sympathetic to us, I had no doubt she would enjoy the kill.
=I will argue that we adjourn human migration until this world has been rethought,= said Linna.
This was typical dino condescension. Even though they appeared to be arguing with each other, they were actually speaking to me, laying the situation out so that even the baby sapient would understand. They were informing me that I was jeopardizing the future of humanity in space. That the Kamala in reception D was dead whether I quit or not. That the equation had to be balanced and it had to be now.
“Wait,” I said. “Maybe I can coax her back into the scanner.” I had to get away from them. I pulled my earstone out and slid it into my pocket. I was in such a hurry to escape that I stumbled as I left the scan center and had to catch myself in the hallway. I stood there for a second, staring at the hand pressed against the bulkhead. I seemed to see the splayed fingers through the wrong end of a telescope. I was far away from myself.
She had curled into herself on the couch, arms clutching knees to her chest, as if trying to shrink so that nobody would notice her.
“We're all set,” I said briskly. “You'll be in the marble for less than a minute, guaranteed."
“No, Michael."
I could actually feel myself receding from Tuulen Station. “Kamala, you're throwing away a huge part of your life."
“It is my right.” Her eyes were shiny.
No, it wasn't. She was redundant; she had no rights. What had she said about the dead old lady? She had become a thing, like a bone.
“Okay, then,” I jabbed at her shoulder with a stiff forefinger. “Let's go."
She recoiled. “Go where?"
“Back to Lunex. I'm holding the shuttle for you. It just dropped off my afternoon list; I should be helping them settle in, instead of having to deal with you."
She unfolded herself slowly.
“Come on.” I jerked her roughly to her feet. “The dinos want you off Tuulen as soon as possible and so do I.” I was so distant, I couldn't see Kamala Shastri anymore.
She nodded and let me march her to the bubble door.
“And if we meet anyone in the hall, keep your mouth shut."
“You're being so mean.” Her whisper was thick.
“You're being such a baby.”
When the inner door glided open, she realized immediately that there was no umbilical to the shuttle. She tried to twist out of my grip but I put my shoulder into her, hard. She flew across the airlock, slammed against the outer door and caromed onto her back. As I punched at the switch to close the inner door, I came back to myself. I was doing this terrible thing—me, Michael Burr. I couldn't help myself: I giggled. When I last saw her, Kamala was scrabbling across the deck toward me but she was too late. I was surprised that she wasn't screaming again; all I heard was her ferocious breathing.
As soon as the inner door seated, I opened the outer door. After all, how many ways are there to kill someone on a space station? There were no guns. Maybe someone else could have stabbed or strangled her, but not me. Poison how? Besides, I wasn't thinking, I had been trying desperately not to think of what I was doing. I was a sapientologist, not a doctor. I always thought that exposure to space meant instantaneous death. Explosive decompression or something like. I didn't want her to suffer. I was trying to make it quick. Painless.
I heard the whoosh of escaping air and thought that was it; the body had been ejected into space. I had actually turned away when thumping started, frantic, like the beat of a racing heart. She must have found something to hold onto. Thump, thump, thump! It was too much. I sagged against the inner door—thump, thump—slid down it, laughing. Turns out that if you empty the lungs, it is possible to survive exposure to space for at least a minute, maybe two. I thought it was funny. Thump! Hilarious, actually. I had tried my best for her—risked my career—and this was how she repaid me? As I laid my cheek against the door, the thumps start to weaken. There were just a few centimeters between us, the difference between life and death. Now she knew all about balancing the equation. I was laughing so hard I could scarcely breathe. Just like the meat behind the door. Die already, you weepy bitch!
I don't know how long it took. The thumping slowed. Stopped. And then I was a hero. I had preserved harmony, kept our link to the stars open. I chuckled with pride; I could think like a dinosaur.
* * * *
I popped through the bubble door into Reception D. “It's time to board the shuttle."
Kamala had changed into a clingy and velcro slippers. There were at least ten windows open on the wall; the room filled with the murmur of talking heads. Friends and relatives had to be notified; their hero had returned, safe and sound. “I have to go,” she said to the wall. “I will call you all when I land."
She gave me a smile that seemed stiff from disuse. “I want to thank you again, Michael.” I wondered how long it took migrators to get used to being human. “You were such a help and I was such a ... I was not myself.” She glanced around the room one last time and then shivered. “I was really scared."
“You were."
She shook her head. “Was it that bad?"
I shrugged and led her out into the hall.
“I feel so silly now. I mean, I was in the marble for less than a minute and then—” she snapped her fingers—"there I was on Gend, just like you said.” She brushed up against me as we walked; her body was hard under the clingy. “Anyway, I am glad we got this chance to talk. I really was going to look you up when I got back. I certainly did not expect to see you here."
“I decided to stay on.” The inner door to the airlock glided open. “It's a job that grows on you.” The umbilical shivered as the pressure between Tuulen Station and the shuttle equalized.
“You have got migrators waiting,” she said.
“Two."
“I envy them.” She turned to me. “Have you ever thought about going to the stars?"
“No,” I said.
Kamala put her hand to my face. “It changes everything.” I could feel the prick of her long nails—claws, really. For a moment I thought she meant to scar my cheek the way she had been scarred.
“I know,” I said.
* * *
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