by Erin Hayes
He looks up at me, his eyes wide. “But what if we all get sick, Clementine? What if we can’t fix this?”
“That’s why we are where we are,” I say. “We’re close enough to people who say they can help us.”
“So why aren’t we there already?”
I’ve been grappling with that for a while now, and I don’t have a good answer, other than I don’t trust Maas to have our best interests at heart. Why would I after everything that’s happened?
So I just sigh. “We’re trying to make sure that we have the best information to make the best decision,” I say gently. “We want to make sure that we don’t make a mistake.”
He’s silent for a moment, thinking on my words. “I’m scared,” he says softly. “I’m just really scared.”
Now’s when I’m completely honest with him. “I am, too. And it’s okay to be scared. It just makes you alert and aware of everything that’s happening. You’ll be prepared.”
“I don’t feel that way.” He flips through a page on his mini-tab, and there’s a picture of a large reptile that supposedly lived on old Earth millions of years ago. And supposedly, they were wiped out too. I wonder if something like this virus got ahold of them and ripped through their species.
But I push that thought from my mind. “Between Daisy and me,” I say, “we’ll protect you, okay?”
He nods. “Thank you,” he says.
I hope he feels some sort of relief. Because I’m still trying to figure it out myself.
Chapter 17
“These damn cameras,” I mutter, flipping through the different views into the quarantine room.
“Still can’t see?” PC asks, leaning in towards me to peer over my shoulder.
“Well, have a look,” I say, indicating my screens.
Like the past few days, we see a filmy skin that only lets about ten percent of the light in and it obscures the rest of the view. They’ve been covered up with whatever’s going on in that room, and I shudder to think what that is, if it’s Louis or something else.
“That’s…disturbing,” he mutters under his breath. “What do you think is happening in there?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
Is Louis’s consciousness still in there? Is he wondering if we abandoned him? I hate that thought.
“What do you want to do?” PC asks under his breath.
“About Louis?”
“Yeah. It’s been thirty-six hours since we arrived here.”
I suck in a deep breath. We’re outside of the incubation period that Maas had given us, that the ship would be so infested with the virus that we’d be begging for help. So far so good. I haven’t shown any symptoms, and neither has anyone else, much to Venice’s chagrin, who takes every moment to criticize our methods. He accuses me of keeping him against his will.
What he doesn’t seem to understand is that all of this is against our will.
“I don’t know,” I sigh. “I’d hoped that there would have been…something different. But…it’s all the same, isn’t it?” I chew on the fingernails of my left hand. “What do we do if nothing changes?”
“Then we keep talking and keep evaluating,” PC says.
“Well, it’s hard to do that when I can’t see what’s happening.” I shake my head and curse under my breath. “Why couldn’t the Pícara have had windows down there?”
“Because then that would have been too easy.” PC snickers softly, putting his hands on his hips. “But there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
“If everything’s all right, should I go in there with a flamethrower?” I ask. “How will we get it off the ship?”
“If all that’s true, then we can see about removing the room. And dropping it into a blackhole.”
And that would cut into my budget for repairing the hole in my leg, which I’m still dealing with on top of everything else.
“Perfect,” I say sarcastically.
PC smiles at me. “We’ll figure it out, Clem. You always were bad at playing the long game.”
“Well, I’m not going to figure anything out by looking at this.” I turn off the screens with a snort of disgust. “I just wish something would go right.”
He shrugs. “Things can only go so wrong before they eventually go right, right?”
I quirk an eyebrow at that.
“Speaking of things going awry,” PC says, putting his hands in his trouser pockets, “what’s going on between you and Orion?”
Immediately, my internal systems send me a warning that I need to calm myself down, and a coolant kicks in to lessen the heat in my cheeks. “Nothing.”
PC doesn’t look convinced. “I know you, Clem. And you’re a terrible liar. He’s been acting weird for a few days now. Not talking to anyone.”
I open my mouth but snap it shut and shake my head with a self-deprecating laugh. “I got drunk the night that Louis…” My voice trails off. “Orion reattached my old arm, and…I mistook him for a human.”
“Mistook him how?”
I scratch my ear. “I kissed him.”
PC’s reaction is immediate. “That’s a problem?”
“He’s a navigator android, not a pleasure bot.”
He shrugs. “Well, maybe the problem is that he liked it, too.”
“He’s an android, PC. He doesn’t like things.”
A lopsided smile comes to PC’s face. “Don’t sell yourself short, Clem. Did you like it?”
I don’t want to tell him that I did. “I don’t like where this conversation is going,” I say, spinning in my chair as I stand. “I’m going to bed.”
“Just remember, Clem,” PC calls after me, “you’re more machine than human. If you enjoyed it, maybe he did, too.”
I give him a vulgar gesture before I leave him and head back to my quarters. Of course, out of everyone on the ship I can bump into, I run smack dab into Orion as I round a corner. As in, I’m so lost in my thoughts, I bounce off his hard chest.
“Careful, Captain,” Orion says with that same distance he’s had since I threw myself at him.
“Sorry,” I mutter, averting my eyes. “I’m just trying to get to bed.”
He nods. “That would be wise.”
“Yeah.” Then nervous laughter bubbles out of me. “Amazing how small the ship can seem, right?”
I make to move away from him, but he seems to be in my way. His eyes are watching me intently, and I try everything I can to not look up into them. To not lose myself in them.
“How are you?” he asks finally.
I snicker. “Well, I’ve been far better. I’d have to say that the past week has been the worst of my life. And nothing seems to be going right. But, sure. I’m fine. Peachy keen.”
He only watches me.
“Well, have a good night,” I say, pushing past him.
“Clementine,” he says, using my name, which causes me to look back at him. I can’t stand how good-looking he is, especially with everything that’s happened. Yet another instance in which I screwed up.
Finally, he tilts his head in my direction. “Sweet dreams.”
I’m about to turn away when a question comes to me. “Do androids have dreams?”
“If you mean that, when I power down, I have visions of possibilities, then, yes.” He nods solemnly. “Yes, we do have dreams.”
I raise both eyebrows in surprise. “That’s…interesting.”
“There are a lot about androids that would surprise you,” he says.
I wonder if there’s more to that, but I decide not to take him up on it. “Night,” I say.
And then I flee to the safety of my room before I make even more of an ass out of myself. Thankfully, I fall asleep quickly.
But this time, I dream.
Like before, I walk with my fingertips brushing along the walls of the hallway. The Pícara is dark though, far darker than it should be, like I’m standing in it while only the auxiliary power is on. My cyborg leg is whole once again, so my gait is even and ful
l.
Lights flicker ominously, with only one out of four hallway lights actually working. I hear the drip of something echoing around me, like water or something else.
Then I hear the footsteps, a bunch of legs working in succession with each other, with something dragging behind it, like a broken limb. The arachni-lift. It’s somewhere behind me, advancing ever so quickly.
I look behind me, feeling terror grip my heart, waiting for the abomination to show up. I don’t know why I’m waiting, except I’m rooted to my spot, unable to continue.
Then the arachni-lift crashes into the corridor. The lone bloodshot eye sees me, and the human mouth opens and screeches like a predator finding its prey. The spell that it has on me is released, and I turn on my heel and run.
The Pícara of my dreams is far bigger than in real life, with hallways that continually get narrower and narrower, pressing in on me as I flee. The space between the walls keeps getting smaller and smaller until I’m turned sideways and shuffling ever so slowly forward.
That doesn’t seem to stop the arachni-lift behind me, though. I can hear it, getting ever so closer to me.
I cry out and stumble forward as the hallways suddenly open up, and I spill out in front of the quarantine room. The sounds of the arachni-lift behind me halt, and it doesn’t follow me out into this space.
Relief spreads through me, and I feel safe for just a moment.
Then I turn to look at the room. I still can’t see inside it, but I don’t have to in order to know that there’s something even worse than the arachni-lift brewing in there. Something sinister reaches out towards me, threatening to choke me.
It’s nauseating, causing my stomach to flip, and I gag uncomfortably.
But something compels me to move forward. To finally figure out what’s happening beyond the door.
I tentatively reach out and put my palm flat against the door.
An electric shock hits me, and I gasp.
But that’s not the loudest sound I hear now. Ricocheting off the inside of my skull, there’s a sound that I hear in my brain and not through my ears.
HELPME. HELPME. HELPME.
The ship. It’s screaming at me, wanting me to help it. And it builds in crescendo until all I can do is scream along with it.
Whatever is happening inside that room, it’s destroying the Pícara.
And I know that if I don’t stop it, it’s going to destroy us as well.
I wake up in a sweaty tangle of sheets and blankets, but I’m back in my room, by myself. The dim lighting in my room is exactly as it should be, and I don’t hear the clanging of the arachni-lift following me.
I groan as I comb my small child’s hand through my hair, trying to calm my racing heart.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Fucking hell.”
Why is it that I don’t dream when I want to, but when I finally do, it’s a horrible nightmare about the very ship I’m on?
At least it wasn’t real. I can tell myself that.
It’s 0430, too early to get ready for the day, but I doubt I’ll fall asleep again. Not after that dream.
A groan rips through the room, like metal expanding and compressing. I freeze and look up at the ceiling, wondering if that was the Pícara trying to talk to me or if we hit a particularly cold spot in space and I’m imagining it.
Another groan sounds, and I get to my feet in a start.
It is the ship. And she’s trying to tell me something.
I shake my head, looking around, begging it to not be true. No, I don’t want to see the quarantine room. I don’t want to leave the safety of my room. And I don’t want to face what could be happening.
I don’t want the responsibility.
The light flickers again, oddly reminiscent of my dream, and I snarl as I slip my feet into my shoes. “I’m going, I’m going, I’m going,” I mutter.
I palm open the door and pad silently toward the quarantine room. No one else is up yet, which is probably a good thing, but I feel like I’m dealing with ghosts now. There’s an eeriness to everything, and dread clenches my stomach as I make my way there.
The Pícara makes no further indication that she’s trying to tell me something, so I take that as her approval. For better or worse.
No arachni-lift, no narrowing corridors. So far, so good.
Then the quarantine room comes into view, and when I see it, I stop, trying to make sense of what I’m looking at. Because it doesn’t make sense. Hell, even from my dream, what I’m seeing before me doesn’t match anything in my memory bank.
What the…fuck?
The door to the quarantine room is overgrown with cobwebs of flesh. All around the doorframe, which is supposed to be airtight, there are chunks of flesh that flow outward, pulsating with…something. And beyond that, I can see the metal walls of the Pícara are pulsating too.
It’s infected. Like Louis. Like my hand.
“Louis?” I whisper, wondering if that sack of flesh could still understand me. If there’s still a piece of Louis in there.
There’s movement in the corner of my eye. I lurch forward, meaning to get a better look at the captain.
And then I see Venice standing there.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I blurt, staring agape at him.
He glowers at me. “I’m allowed to go anywhere in the ship.” He sounds defensive, like I’ve caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Yes,” I say. “But why are you here?”
“Bad dream.” He points at the door to emphasize his point. “There’s something really, really wrong happening in there.”
We can both see that. I look back at the door and feel revulsion shimmer down me, all the way to my circuits in my right toes. This is something far beyond my own ability to figure out or solve. This is a virus that’s meaning to kill all of us.
It’s going to infect the ship around us and then corner us until we give in.
I make the decision. I know what we have to do. If there’s even the slightest chance we can stop this, then it’s worth it. If we do nothing, we’re going to die.
“We have to go to Alpha,” I say through clenched teeth. “This is getting out of control. It’s not getting better.”
Venice whips his head towards me, snarling. “Don’t you fucking dare! Do you know what’ll happen there? They’ll dissect us and use us for experiments!”
That may be true, but…what choice do I have?
“I’m sorry, Venice.” I shake my head apologetically as I close the distance between us. “We have to figure out how to get rid of this. And we may be infected even now.”
“I’m not infected,” he says, shaking his head. He gestures wildly at the thing that used to be our captain. “I’m not that!”
That’s when I see the handheld zapper that he raises to fire at the combined mass of flesh and metal. My mind reacts faster than my body can, and I’m only able to get out one word before all hell breaks loose. “Don’t—”
Venice fires, blasts of energy burning the creature. A loud, earsplitting shriek rips through the ship, inhuman and wordless, and we both wince in pain. Venice drops the zapper to cover his ears, even though that will do little to protect his eardrums. My bones rattle with the creature shrieking in pain.
With my own hands over my ears, I watch in horror as the creature lurches forward, whipping a swath of flesh towards him. It catches him across the face and spins him in a full circle before he collapses on the floor.
And that’s not all…
“Help me,” he gasps, grappling his ways towards me. I’m frozen to my spot as I watch him melt from the outside in. His cheeks first, then the top of his head, exposing his gray matter before that, too, turns to goo and spills out on the floor.
I stagger back a step but not before his hand strikes out and grabs me around the left ankle. My human ankle. His touch sears through me, and I seize up in pain as it rips through me as well. We’re both infected and spreading the virus right now.
We couldn’t stop the Infinity Virus. We’re helping it spread.
My feet tangle up with each other as his grip is tight, and I hit the floor, hard, landing in a splash of Venice. Then I feel his hand dissolve as well and spill out around me.
Venice melted within minutes. How long do I have? How do I stop it from ravaging across my body?
“Clementine?” I hear a voice gasp. “What happened?”
I painfully wrench my head up to see Orion standing in shock further down the hallway. He must have been on the bridge when he heard the commotion. And despite the fact that he’s an android, he looks horrified at the events unfolding around us.
“Don’t come near me!” I shout through my raw throat. “Don’t come anywhere near here!”
“What do I do?” he says. I hear his boots as he backs away from the mess—wisely so—and I hope it’s far enough.
“Don’t fire at it,” I say. I heave a breath. My internal scanners are telling me that there’s a foreign body in my human side, one that’s quickly wiping through me. “It won’t kill it. And it’s infecting the Pícara.”
I drag myself farther away from the mess.
“What do you want me to do, then?” he asks.
My vision swims, and I try pushing myself up on my hands and knees. My elbows buckle, and I fall forward.
“We have to go to Alpha,” I whisper against the metal floor. Gore coats my cheek, and I try not to think about it being Venice or Louis. “We have to meet with Maas before it kills us all.”
I can’t help but wonder if I inadvertently infected the entire crew. Doomed them to a terrible death because we didn’t abandon ship or decide another course of action. Blast the quarantine room with fire. Try to kill it in other ways.
“Do not die, Clementine,” Orion says. “Do not let it take you over.”
But it’s too late now. And my foolish choices may have signed our death warrants.
A sharp pain wracks through me, and I shudder as I pass out.
Chapter 18
Fluorescent lights glare just beyond my eyelids, both too bright and too painful for me to want to open my eyes. I roll my eyes in their sockets, grimacing at the intrusion of the lights. It’s painful, immediately giving me a headache. Have I gotten drunk again? I should really stay away from Venice’s moonshine.