by CK Burch
″I need to know something,″ he said.
″Can it wait?″ Collins was getting snippy. He imagined that she was feeling the pressure, had been feeling it for a while. But now it was finally coming out stronger. She was totally annoyed with the whole situation; this wasn't within her realm of experience, totally outside her comfort zone. Considering how far they had already been pushed, it probably wasn't a good idea to keep pushing her, but there was a nagging thought behind his brain and if he didn't investigate it he knew that they would regret it. He knew it.
″No,″ he replied. ″It's about Mac. I need your security clearance.″
Collins sighed. ″Straub, give it a rest.″
″Collins – ″
″No!″ she shouted. She slammed her fist down on the panel and turned to him. He hadn't noticed the dark circles under her eyes until now, partially obscured by the facial display on her helmet, but up close and personal he could see them clearly. ″No, goddammit, no! Straub, isn't it a little fucking coincidental how you seem to be able to call what's going on with everyone here? Don't you think that maybe, just maybe, you're seeing what you want to see and not actually what's really going on? I think, and you can call me on this, but I think that you just feel fucking guilty for fucking your co-worker and you're blaming it on this fucking alien invasion-radiation-what-the-fuck-ever bullshit! And I'm really sick and fucking tired of it!″ She pointed out to the shuttle bay. ″We are this close to leaving the fucking ship, Doctor. And if you care to do anything, and I fucking mean anything, to come between us and that fucking escape I swear to god I'll leave you here based on whatever fucking article or subsection I can make it work under. Do you understand me?″
Straub froze. He hadn't been expecting a hostile reaction. A strong one maybe, but not hostile. Collins had been the one to stay on the defense, but that was her mode of thinking, her training, to look out for danger and utilize the tactical response to respond to the situation at hand. Damn. She was panicking. He had to think around it, but he was thinking too hard. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he was the problem after all: it really had been him that had seen the radiation effects based on his reaction and Kerrick's reaction. Oh god, she was right, wasn't she? No, no, he had to keep it together. He had to stop thinking so goddamn hard. He had to remember his intuition.
″Commander,″ he said.
″I mean it!″ She stood up and reached for the pulse rifle on her back. The next moment Straub was staring down the dark center of the barrel, primed and ready for action. He saw bits of pus that had flown from the crawlers and had cooked on the heated weapon. ″I mean it! Don't you dare fucking start on your bullshit! We are going home! Do you hear me? We are going home!″
Straub put his hands in the air slowly, keeping his eyes locked with Collins's. It was tough. He kept wanting to look into the gun but he knew he'd panic if he did. ″Okay,″ he said softly. ″Okay.″
Neither of them moved. Collins was breathing hard and shallow, quick intense inhalations through grit teeth. He saw sweat rolling down over her forehead. He hadn't thought about Collins, or her reaction, because he'd been too damn busy worrying about every other fucking person on the ship. She kept the damn rifle pointed right between his holographic eyes and didn't waver in the slightest.
Straub jumped when Mac called. ″Straub! Hey, you there? Collins isn't picking up her comm.″
Straub pointed at his minipad and spoke to Collins. ″Mac is calling. I'm going to answer him.″
″If you make one goddamn word about us not leaving – ″ She shoved the rifle closer to his face.
He touched the minipad and activated his comm. ″Straub here. How's the prep going?″
″Icarus-1's core was damaged in the EMP burst, it's no good. Icarus-2 has a worn engine coil but if I get started on that I can have it up and running in fifteen minutes.″
″Fifteen minutes is cutting it a little close, Chief,″ he responded. Don't touch anything, he wanted to say, but he kept staring at the desperate eyes looking down the length of the rifle at him. ″We're kind of on a tight schedule here. Maybe we should check the Captain's Boat from the Prometheus. Should be working just fine.″
Mac chuckled. ″We won't be able to fit more than four people into the goddamn Captain's Boat, Straub. Trust me, fifteen minutes. All we have to do is keep flight launch on standby. Hey, how come Collins isn't answering her comm? Everything alright up there?″
″Everything's cool, Chief. Collins is just having a minor issue with her comm. Don't worry, I'll do my hacker crap again, fix it right up.″
″Huh. Alright. Fifteen minutes, Doctor. Then we make like shit through a goose. Mac, out.″
Straub closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he looked at Collins again. ″Fifteen minutes. Mac is fixing a damaged engine coil on the Icarus-2. The other shuttle is busted. Captain's Boat won't hold all of us. So fifteen minutes.″
Collins nodded and continued to hold the rifle at ready.
″Commander,″ Straub said. ″Did Mac call you?″
Her eyes regained a soft clarity and began to focus inward, looking left and right, like she was searching her brain for the memory. ″Yes,″ she said at last. ″While I was talking. To you.″
″Why didn't you pick up?″
″Because I thought – ″ Again with the eyes, back and forth, back and forth, searching for rapid fire reason. ″I thought that I needed to deal with you first.″
″Commander. I don't mean to be pulling any more bullshit. But I think that maybe you might need to calm down a little. We're almost home. Fifteen minutes to launch, right?″
She hesitated. ″Right.″
″Right. Do you think you could put the rifle away for now, then?″
In an instant her pupils tightened and regained their harsh concentration, her grip tightened and the rifle shuddered slightly. Shit. He thought she was actually going to do it.
Stephen. Sarah was calling. He ignored her.
Collins was tearing up. Her eyes were wet. There was an internal battle in there, trying to cut through the bull and get to tactics again, to do what was important. Hold the bullshit scientist at bay or wait for the repairs to be done so all could go home? Straub felt like praying again, twice in one day, unbelievable. He had to wonder if praying would do any good here in this minor pit of hell. He had to bite down on his lip hard to keep from chuckling at that thought.
″Right,″ she said. She lowered the rifle, half an inch at first, then lowered it completely and put it on her back. ″Right. We're all on the same page again now.″
″All on the same page.″ He gave half a smile that expanded into a full grin once Collins took a step back. They were all on the same page for the time being, but there was no guarantee how long that was going to last. Collins was on the very edge of her grip on sanity. She wanted to get off the ship no matter what, and any perceived threat was going to be removed from her path. So far that had been just the aliens. Aliens. The word tumbled over his thoughts like a bad sense memory. He shook it away, and saw in his mind's eye the artifact as Doctor Tybalt had probed it, it's raw meaty flesh parting for the cable. Like sex. Like with Kerrick. How he'd thought of –
Stephen. I'm still waiting for you. I want to say goodbye.
God, there was her. There was Sarah, still whispering from abovedecks, probably in his quarters. He hadn't been in there for two weeks, he'd spent all that time in Kerrick's quarters. Sarah's picture was on his desk and he was ready to bet money that all the whispering in his mind was coming from that goddamn picture, that if he were standing before it he would see her lips moving, an image from the past. Almost fitting: photographs were ghosts in a way. The dead still with us.
Stephen, please.
He wanted to rub his eyes real bad but wasn't about to take off the helmet to do so. Sweat was rolling down his own forehead too, and that was just going to have to annoyingly stay there. Fuck. His mind whirled around and around like a carousel with no control
and he just couldn't stop thinking. There was too much going on, too much out of his hands, and he couldn't figure out where to go next. Collins, despite the shift in tone, was most likely going to keep an eye on him. Tactics. He had to count on it. But Mac was still the loose thread. Something was going on with Mac, and Straub didn't trust him with the shuttle repairs. Something was wrong there with the Chief. Something.
Straub casually sat down at the other end of the consoles. He could probably hack the interface login systems through here. It had been a long time since he'd been able to pull a hack that size, through that much ICE, but hell, he had fifteen minutes. That was enough time to take a few swings and see how far he could hit the ball. No pressure, not like the cargo bay. Either Mac was on the money with his mind or something was wrong. In fifteen minutes they'd find out the easy way or the hard way.
Straub looked over: Collins was concentrating on looking out the control booth window, into the bay itself. Waiting for her ride home to come to life. She was paying Straub no mind after all.
Stephen. If you're not going to come to me, I'm going to come to you. I have to say goodbye, Stephen. I have to see you one last time. Don't you want to see me?
So that was it, then. His own mind was starting to work against him, his fears and the radiation turning inward and starting to break him down. He wouldn't give in to it, so it was going to break him however it could. Okay, he thought. In for a penny, right? He activated the console, found himself a path into the system's subframe, and began cutting a way to the login records. He wasn't going to go down without a fight.
***
CHAPTER XVI.
Laguardia's limp was getting worse, and Udeh was worried. ″You should deactivate your boots. Let me pull you.″
″I'm fine,″ she said, and she grunted along.
They were on the recreation deck. After Markov's last transmission, Udeh had been worried as hell that there were other survivors, possibly gravitating towards whatever shelter they could find. They were closing in on the ten minute mark to departure but Udeh had an idea that it would be longer than that before they actually took off. Call it a hunch. Things on this boat hadn't gone so simple as to adhere to man-created timers. There was a weird, natural bioclock happening, something the universe had designed with this artifact as a counterweight. They had as long as it took. No more, no less. And if they were still on the ship when it happened, they were pretty much fucked. But ten minutes sounded too easy to his gut. No. Ten minutes was far too easy.
″Wait here.″ Udeh moved away as Laguardia gratefully leaned against the bulkhead wall. He kept his rifle at the ready, shining his fieldlights over and across the length of the hall and into the various rooms. The gym was clean, the bar was clean. Too damn clean. He kept expecting blood and guts to litter the place, but it was just eerie and silent. Most of the crew had been in three places: the cargo bay, the bridge, and engineering. It was a small ship, comparatively speaking. Udeh knew that searching this place given the clock ticking down over their heads was a fool's errand, but Captain Markov had already taken off on a fool's errand of his own. Whoever Markov was chasing after throughout the ship was pretty damn important to the man, something that Markov had never let slip during even their most casual conversations. When it came to his own crew, Gordon Markov was the epitome of professional. Udeh imagined Markov never gave thought to his own feelings when it came to deciding between himself and the crew, but that had kind of gone out the fucking window now, hadn't it? Godspeed, Gordon, Udeh thought, but wondered if when the time came he could launch the shuttle without Gordon on board. That was going to be a tough call. There had been a time, once, when Udeh had refused to leave a man behind. It had been on a landing mission during his training, out on Titan, and a technological failure had come up. One of the trainees had lost oxygen in his suit and Udeh had leaped into space on a hope and prayer to save the man, with little power left in his own suit to do the job. Almost lost his own life. He'd simultaneously gotten chewed out and honorable recognition. Okwudili Udeh hadn't left a man behind since then, but he'd seen a lot of them die for no good reason. Markov was on his own by his own choice. That was a difficult thing. Someone else was going to have to press the launch button. It wouldn't be Udeh.
″We're clean,″ he shouted out. Markov had been through medical already, no one was left in sciences. It was time to clear the hell out.
″Good,″ Laguardia said. She stood up and would have collapsed if it wasn't for her damn magboots. The Sergeant was tough, he'd give her that. Udeh had never seen tougher, male or female, but Christ this woman needed to rest somehow.
″Sergeant,″ Udeh said. ″Turn off your boots and float. You're only going to slow yourself down and I'm not leaving you behind. That's an order.″
″With all due respect, sir, you can shove it.″ Defiantly, Laguardia walked forward, limping to all hell. ″I think the ship's captain is off somewhere doing his own thing and we have a shuttle to prep for his arrival. If you don't mind, I'd like to get the fuck down to the shuttle bay so we can blow this shithole. That is, if you don't mind, sir.″
Udeh smiled. ″I think a little insubordination goes a long way. But your spirit might be a little too strong for your body. You're limping bad, you're going to slow us both down, and we're not going to make it to the shuttle in time for us to get the hell out of here.″
″You really think that countdown means anything, sir?″ Laguardia raised an eyebrow.
So he wasn't the only one who thought that. ″No,″ he admitted. ″But if we don't keep up a good speed, we'll never make it there in time. That big thing is still coming through, Sergeant, and I believe you don't want to be here when it does. Am I right?″
Laguardia nodded. For a moment she held his eyes still with defiance but then touched her minipad and her boots deactivated. She removed her rifle from her back and held it in her right hand while holding out her left. ″Lead the way, Captain.″
Udeh turned and offered his shoulder for her to grasp. ″You watch behind us and I'll look ahead and we'll keep track of our surroundings that way.″ Once she had a firm grip he started forward to the lift. Inside he pressed the icon for the cargo deck and frowned as nothing happened. He tried again, but the lift was unresponsive. He sighed. ″Looks like we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way.″
″You might want to deactivate your boots, sir. So you don't slow us down.″ Laguardia had a wicked grin.
″Funny, Sergeant. I ever tell you you're funny as hell?″ He switched off his boots and kicked up to the hatch on the ceiling. ″Come on, funny girl.″
They exited into the shaft and turned themselves downwards. The running lights had come on in the shaft, making it so that it was easier to see, at least. Still, anything they wanted to look at with clarity required the fieldlights. Udeh held Laguardia as they kicked over to the opposite side of the shaft. ″Hold on,″ he said. She took his shoulder again as he used the rail as a handhold, pulling them downward towards cargo.
″Where the fuck are these things?″ Laguardia asked. She sounded tense.
″It's a small ship, but there's a lot of places to hide.″ Udeh felt a strange sense of deja vu overtake him. Nothing around, moving through the shaft, no creepies about to deal with. And then he'd opened up the bridge and had found them. He shook it off, tried to move past it, but couldn't. They were here, somewhere. He started to feel enclosed again, caught in the dragon's throat, and he felt his body go cold with sweat. Not now, not now. Keep it together. Below him the shaft seemed to open and close, flexing like an air passage and he almost froze up completely. Seeing things again. Like the shadow moving along the opposite wall, swift and silent, just at the edge of his lights. He turned toward it but it was gone; fuck. Hallucinations getting worse and worse.
″What was that?″ Laguardia asked.
″You saw it too?″ Maybe it wasn't a hallucination. Maybe it was –
But then he was hit from the side by something big and he slamm
ed into the side of the shaft. Laguardia cried out above him and suddenly he was moving downward again, too fast, only a second later realizing he'd been kicked in the side. He couldn't see what was going on. He reached out blindly, grabbing for the rail again, and when he got a handhold he turned upward to see Sydney Kerrick wrestling with Laguardia for the pulse rifle. ″Dyke cunt!″ Kerrick was screaming, and there was something about her that was horrific, not just in her movements or her visage but her presence. Kerrick was wild, feral, an animal. In a way it made her more frightening than the aliens were.
Udeh heaved himself upward towards the women and reached for his rifle, but it was gone. What the hell? No time to worry over it; he hit Kerrick headfirst, square in the back, and wrapped his arms around her waist. She squirmed madly against his grip and screamed obscenities left and right. Udeh turned to Laguardia. ″You all right?″
Kerrick reared back and twisted a kick that landed on Udeh's knee, at the weak joint of the HES shell. It hurt like a bitch and he loosened his grip enough for Kerrick to squirm out of his reach and kick over to Laguardia, who Kerrick punched in the front of the helmet. Udeh heard Kerrick's knuckles crack against the metal and swore that her hand broke, but she reached back and punched again, the same sick snapping sound breaking the silence in the shaft. Then the bitch reached out and almost twisted Laguardia's helmet off. Laguardia looked dazed. The punches must have bounced her skull around.
″Where's my daddy?! You can't hide him!″ Kerrick screamed. She pulled Laguardia face-to-face with her and snarled, trying again to pull the sergeant's helmet free.
Udeh reached out – shit, he was just out of reach of the wall. He was drifting towards it but too goddamn slowly. He pulled his own helmet off, felt the cold air in the shaft attack his skin, and threw it. It smacked Kerrick in the side of the head and she turned back to him, bloody and fierce. There wasn't a single trace of humanity in those eyes; it was all animal, all brutal. Anything that had once been Sydney Kerrick was gone.