Piece Simul ✔

Chapter 57-Russ-The Purge

She visited the last part of the ship she hadn't checked: Dura-Station.

When Russ wandered into the room, she was struck by an intense headache. The rows of dura-chambers caused bile to rise in her throat, but she beat back the nausea.

Focus.

Kathar hadn't been anywhere else. Russ had stumbled across more of the crew, body parts leading to the Dura-Station like a bread-crumb trail. She did not relish the thought of facing him. Green-Eyed were renowned for insanity and cruelty, but the carnage throughout the ship was unheard of. She was dealing with something else. That much she knew.

Each chamber stood open and empty, ready for a new host. The glow from a second row of chambers lit up the back of room. Kathar hadn't, or hadn't had time, to eviscerate all of the crew in stasis.

Small favors, Russ thought, one hand passing over the cool surface of a chamber as she continued edging into the dura-station. Clattering and scraping issue from the adjacent launch area. She drew out one of the laser pistols, both hands on the handle for added accuracy. The thought reminded her of training Jason, her friend and traitor, but she shook it off.

Beyond the yawning archway, she couldn't see anyone, but heard more movement. Since Tiptree and Samuel had already shoved off, it could only be the monster she was looking for.

Before he heard her, or saw her, she wanted to surprise him. She wanted to look him in the eye, sight on his chest (not his heart, because he didn't have one), and shoot.

He was hunched over, gathering a starsuit and other equipment. He hadn't noticed her, not yet.

"Kathar."

She thrust both syllables through clenched teeth.

Kathar stilled. He raised his head to stare at her, the hood of his ridiculous cloak falling back. His eyes, usually brown, radiated with an unnatural green sheen. As steady as she thought she was, Russ was unprepared to see him.

It was his hood, and his eyes. She had faced the combination before, and she understood why he was so familiar to her. He had been there, that day in the dorms, when they'd been attacked and Jamilet had died.

She stepped back while he smiled. Russ's grip on the laser pistol tightened.

Without warning, the launch partition materialized, closing him off from any potential shot.

"Damnit."

"Russ, we've landed."

She clutched her head and caught herself on the open lid of a dura-chamber, nearly tumbling back into it. She righted herself, not checking but sure that Kathar was watching her all the same.

Breathe.

The few deep breaths helped her regain control, and she managed to grate out, "Samples?"

"We have so many! This place is beautiful. Wish you could see it."

Russ released a breath. "That's...great."

She reminded herself that the mission was far from complete until the samples were safely stored, studied, and codified into a cure, which would be impossible with any Green-Eyed running' around the S.S. Delaney.

"Headed back. See you soon!"

Tiptree's high-pitched voice pierced her eardrum.

"Jesus, you're loud," Samuel complained.

"Don't call me Jesus."

She quieted the pair's bickering, knowing she couldn't let them return to this Green-Eyed, waiting to destroy the samples and kill them.

A bell rang, red lights flashing overhead in the launch area. From training, Russ knew the particular alarm indicated a drop in oxygen.

To the interface, she asked, "What's happening?"

A cheery female voice informed her, "Captain Forster requested a purge of the launch area. Commencing."

Kathar's unnatural eyes widened. He'd heard the interface. In that beautiful moment, Russ couldn't help it. She laughed, dropping her stance with the pistol. Her knuckles brushed against her pocket, causing a crinkling sound.

Curious, she reached in and removed the small box, bringing it to her face.

The cigarettes.

That'll do, pig. That'll do.

It was a line from one of her favorite childhood movies, and it became her refrain as she rooted in the box for a cigarette, matches, and lit up.

Like a monster locked in a cage, Kathar initially appeared confused, and then angry, especially when the door refused to open.

"Code Droid 13," he said, with the computer ignoring his override request.

He repeated a few other codes, but they were all useless.

Depletion of oxygen was a slow killer, but Kathar knew a lot about that, didn't he?

It only took moments for him to understand his predicament. And it would take five minutes for the air to suffocate him.

A lovely five minutes.

He wasted three of those minutes in a struggle to put on the starsuit. The bulk was impossible to equip in the time he had. In his frustration, he hefted the helmet at the particle wall. His next move was a threat to blast open the door. Russ tipped her cigarette at him, a dare. They both knew if he shot, it would bounce off the particle wall and around the launch area, possibly and most likely striking at him.

He broke down and begged the computer to restore the oxygen. Nothing worked.

"Almost there, Russ. About 30 minutes."

Ah, by that time, Kathar would be a goner. He only had one minute.

She watched in between delicious puffs as he sank to the floor. He clutched and clawed his throat. With the cigarette clasped between her teeth, Russ grinned.

She felt a bit like The Comedian, but it wasn't quite right without the cigar.