He directs them away from the wall, to the center of the room to kneel and lower their faces. Lana notes that his shoes are purple and curled like an elf’s. They could easily have a bell hanging from them. It is such an absurd detail that she laughs. She stifles it with both hands, but it comes out the sides.
“What is so funny, might I ask?”
The others study her with equal concern. She has lost her mind.
She shakes her head and bites her lip. If she speaks, she’s going to laugh again.
Dandy stands directly in front of her in his little patent elf shoes.
Her shoulders convulse, but she holds the sound in her mouth.
She’s going to die now at the hands of a man wearing elf shoes.
He grips her by the hair and jerks her face up to the ceiling. “Listen, bitch. I am going to cut your head off and feed your body to whatever that is out there.”
She can tell he is not kidding. Reality hits like a slap in the face. She is manic, still in shock, probably on the verge of a genuine panic attack. Actually losing it.
Dino growls, “Leave her alone.”
Dandy lets her go and faces Dino. “You know, the only reason I kept you alive was to see what the sphere would do. We know now. What reason do I have for keeping you around?”
No one speaks.
Lana’s portable rings again. She wants only to see if it is Jack or Justin. She reaches slowly, trying to hide the movement.
The silver-haired man kicks her in the stomach.
Her whole body cramps and she cannot breathe.
Where are you, Jack?
His hands tremble and sweat. He’s overheating in this claustrophobic cube. Bel’s directions are simple enough. There are six wetware panels on rollers jutting out of place, gel-like circuitry that resemble lightning bolts visible in the clear casing. He slides the panels back into place, bracing his feet on the opposite wall for leverage. He turns the screws finger-tight. “Okay,” he says. “You should be all patched up.”
“Thank you, Jack. Preparing for reboot now.”
“What reboot?”
“I must undergo a partial reboot for my AI system to activate, during which time non-vital systems will be temporarily shut down. Would you like me to rephrase this?”
“Which features?”
“Lighting, gravity, water heating, internal comms, door automation, surveillance systems, holo terminals, waste-disposal—”
“How long?”
“The reboot will last five to seven minutes. Two to three for diagnostics tests. One to two minutes startup time. Eight to twelve minutes total.”
“Skip diagnostics.”
“It is not recommended.”
“I said skip it.”
“Yes, Jack.”
He tests that the panels are firmly in place, tugging on their ends. They don’t even wiggle. “Bel, is there anything you haven’t told me about the reboot process?”
“There are billions of things I have not told you about the reboot process. Would you like me to—”
“Never mind.”
“With my AI features activated, I should be of more assistance.”
“I sure as hell hope so. Tell me when you’re ready.”
“I am ready.”
“Okay. What do I do?”
“To initiate restoration of artificial intelligence features, say initiate.”
“Initiate.”
The lights go out.
Darkness swallows the pod. Lana falls backward. The floor has vanished.
Maybe that kick to the stomach was worse than she thought.
“The lights!” someone shouts.
“What the—”
“Shoot them! Kill them!”
Somehow, her head bumps into the ceiling. Or maybe the floor. An arm brushes against her face. Then a foot. A hand grips her shoulder and lets go. Shuffling noises, shouts of, “Hey!” and, “Get off!” followed by the unmistakable sound of someone choking.
“How’s that, fucker,” Dino grunts.
Hunter says, “What’s going on?”
“I’ve got the slimy prick.”
“Dandy? Where you are!” An unfamiliar voice.
“I’m about to snap his neck. Let your weapon go.”
Rapid breathing.
“Don’t kill him,” Hunter says.
Lana reaches out and pokes someone in the eye.
“Ow,” Stetson says.
“Sorry.” Her breath is back, though shallow and pained.
“Why’d the lights go out,” Hunter says. “Stetson? Are you still here?”
“I don’t know. It could be something.”
“That’s very specific.”
They float in darkness.
“Listen,” someone whispers. “The thing. It stopped.”
Lana cocks an ear. No more clanging at the door. Where did it go?
A better question is why.
Jack’s eyes adjust. It is not pitch-black. A pale green glow emanates from the cracks around the panels. He waggles his fingers in front of his face. Fat glowworms.
His work in this place is done. Justin is up on the third floor. He’s not about to head that way blind, but if he crawls back out to the main hallway, he can wait near the exit for Bel to come back online.
He gets lost at the third turn. He holds fast to the dim tunnel, cursing himself. The ship seems to press in all around him. If he tries another way out, he could end up deeper in Bel’s mainframe. He should have waited in the room. Why isn’t there a damn map on the wall?
He vaults through the corridor.
Hasn’t it been five minutes by now?
Halfway down the next passage, he senses something following him. A chill that goes beyond intuition. A charge in the air, and the faint scent of ozone. He pauses. Is he hearing things, too, or is there a slight shuffle and rustle, like scales on pavement? He drifts to the next intersection and waits, squinting back the way he came.
Tentacles wiggle around the far corner. They remind him of vines, the kind that wrap trees and sprout small pointed leaves, but they’re slick and moist and move with intention. First there are just a few. Then a wave of them fills the tunnel. There is no central body that he can tell. No eyes.
It freezes. Tendrils slide along the walls. A couple probe the air.
It charges, the same sickly churning propulsion it used before.
He shoves back, spins and gropes the walls.
The lights come on and bathe him in a whiteness more blinding than the dark.
She thumps to the floor on top of Stetson. Before they can untangle, Dandy’s men get back to their feet, making threats. Dino gets up too, one arm crooked around the Dandy’s neck, revolver held to his temple. Dandy’s eyes flutter. He hacks and coughs and slaps at Dino’s meaty arm.
“Hand them rifles over or I waste this piece of shit. Five seconds.”
The men share an uncertain glance.
“Four.”
“Okay,” says the one with the scar. “We do it.” He shrugs the shoulder strap off and hands the weapon to Hunter. The other man is slower to respond, but eventually does the same. “Now you let him goes.”
Dino smiles. He does not let go. He cranks his grip.
“Don’t kill him,” Lana says. “He might know something.”
The whites of Dandy’s eyes fill red.
“She’s right,” Stetson say.
With a sigh, Dino releases him.
Dandy stumbles forward and rasps, “Kill them.”
His soldiers look away.
“I said kill—”
Dino grabs Dandy by the crown of his head and slams him into the side wall. “Shut the fuck up already.” Dandy crumples, slumps sideways. Dino checks his vitals. “Alive,” he says.
Alive.
She fumbles for her portable. There are three missed calls, all from Jack. She calls back. It goes to voice messaging. “No answer,” she tells the faces around her. The shock of their predicament wearing off, she swallows the knot forming in her throat.