Vessel

28

TURN SIGNAL. SMILE at the guard.

They were all automatic responses from deep within. They repressed the disgust they felt on coming in contact with the sickening, soft flesh of these creatures. The dull human wearing a weapon and a uniform waved them through the gate, seeing only Catherine Wells.

Time was running short. They knew what they had to do, but they could feel the wall slowly wearing away in Catherine’s mind. She was becoming aware of the forces in her mind that were compelling her. They found that troubling, that one single mind could resist so strongly against their larger, unified whole, many minds working as one.

The time to act was now, before the opportunity was lost. The initial plan, to keep the ship from launching, had failed. Since they could not stop the ship’s departure, they’d have to destroy it. The imperative planted deep within Catherine’s mind was simple: no ship could make it through the wormhole.

They moved through the building, uncomfortable in their borrowed nervous system. Everything they took in through Catherine’s senses displeased them. The building’s angles were too sharp, too squared-off. Too mechanical. There was nothing organic, nothing beautiful. No natural stone or soft colors. Perhaps humanity surrounded itself with hardness to give them the armor their soft, flimsy bodies lacked.

It was simple to enter the locked offices in this compound. Child’s play. The first office they’d entered before, the one belonging to the man Aaron. They accessed his workstation with a few keystrokes, not bothering to sit down. What they had to do wouldn’t take long.

(Stop)

The dim whisper of a voice in their mind, an annoyance brushed away as easily as a buzzing fly.

The codes they had retrieved from this very office were clear and sharp in their memory, and they typed in the first of the three.

SEQUENCE INITIATED, the screen said.

(stop)

Ten minutes now to enter the remaining two codes, and their mission would be complete.

The second station was down the hall. It gave them a special sense of satisfaction to break into this office, the office of the man who couldn’t stop meddling.

They quickly entered the second of the three codes.

(please stop, don’t do this, don’t make me do this)

Now for the hardest part. It would take most of their remaining allotted time to get to Mission Control. That was, they supposed, built into the process deliberately, to reduce the chances that any one person could do what they were doing right now. But no matter. It was well within their capabilities, and when that was done, it would be the end of any further human missions through the wormhole.

They started shutting down Cal’s workstation.

“Catherine?”

(CAL STOP HER, STOP ME)

They stumbled back a step. That voice wasn’t so much a buzzing fly anymore. They had observed Catherine’s behavior for so long that they knew how to respond, turning her smile to him. “Hey, there you are.”

“What are you doing in my office?”

“Mission Control said you might still be up here.” Acting like Catherine wasn’t a problem. It was as easy as driving a car, as chatting up the security guards.

Cal was looking at her strangely, though. “But how did you get in here?”

“It was unlocked. I was just about to leave you a note.” The seconds were ticking by. They didn’t have much time. “But now I don’t have to!”

“Cath, we need to talk.”

“We really do.” They stepped over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “And we will, but I have to go. I have to get home. Aimee’s in trouble.”

Confusion flitted across his face. These people were as soft-brained as they were soft-bodied. “Aimee—what happened?”

(Cal I’m in here that’s not me)

“I don’t have all the details yet. I’ll call you when I know more.” Taking a risk, they leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. They had observed Catherine’s thoughts and feelings, but the look of surprise on Cal’s face said they had misjudged. “We’ll talk when I get back.” They breezed past him and walked out of his office. There was still time to get to Mission Control.

“Wait!” Cal’s voice came from behind them. “Why a note? Why not just call me?”

They kept going, walking a little faster.

“Catherine, stop.” It sounded like an order.

They broke into a sprint for the stairs.

Behind them, Cal cursed and they heard running feet on the tile floor. They hit the stairwell door with both hands and jogged down the first set of stairs.

(stopstopstopstop)

They tripped as Catherine swept forward, trying to take control of her body again, but they shoved her down. Behave, or you’ll get yourself killed.

It was enough of a stumble that Cal caught up with them, grabbed them by the arm. “Cath, what are you doing?”

Catherine’s smile vanished as he whirled them to face him, and they responded with the instinct of two different species. They hissed at him, a dry, sibilant warning, but Catherine’s body had its own set of defenses when it came under attack and it responded to him as well. They broke free of his hold and drove a hand up into his chin with a solid thunk.

(no!)

Yes. They pushed her advantage, knowing they could be more ruthless with him than he would be with her.

He blocked the next two punches, but a third got through, smashing into his soft cheek and through to the bone with a satisfying crunch. He staggered back into the landing wall.

(Cal run, get away from me if you can’t stop me)

That voice. It was getting louder. Their time was running out. They had to act fast. They grabbed Cal by the shirt, pulling him away from the wall and turning him toward the stairs.

“Cath. Catherine.” He grabbed them by the arms and spoke urgently, looking them in the eyes. “I know this isn’t you. I know you’re in there. Can you hear me? Come on. You can stop this; you have to fight it.”

He was heavier than she was, and stitches in his shirt ripped as they tried to spin him toward the stairs.

“Catherine, come on. Come back. What you’re doing is going to kill six innocent people. You have to stop. Please.”

(I can’t, I can’t stop this)

His feet dragged. Just a few more steps. He stopped trying to hold on to her and started trying to pull free, realizing what they had planned. They could see it, envision it, his body tumbling down the stairs, hitting his head. Would it break?

(YOU CAN’T! DON’T HURT HIM)

But they could, and they were going to. They had to. The mission was waiting. How long did they have now? How many minutes remained?

They hauled Cal up, ready to let go.

(stop this let him go let him go let him—)

“—go, let him go, let go!” Catherine’s eyes widened as everything snapped into focus and she surged forward, taking control of her body again.