Dead Space and their characters are property of Visceral Games (former EA Redwood Shores), Mirror´s Edge and their characters are property of Digital Illusions. I claim no economic benefit of this story.


Chapter Nine:

Impasse

Central Mainframe of the USG Ishimura

Eight hours after Isaac Clarke´s failed rescue attempt...

The eyes of both women stared at each other once again. They seemed destined for mutual hate. None of the things one of them did, seemed to convince the least to the other. The guns of both improvised weapons were confronted as well, forcing them to a tight spot. One from which you couldn´t get out without losing something valuable.

--- Mister Clarke... Ribbel... Sergei... Misses. Edwards... Did anyone hear me?, over --- The scared voice of Rodrigo Cortez's through the radio frequency, distracted them for a moment of the tense standoff they were in, without being enough to break the delicate equilibrium in which they stood.

The minds of both traveled quickly to the point where it all started. The moment that had led them to this forced confrontation. But it was the platinum blonde that made the uncomfortable question:

--- How did we come to this ...? ---


Zero Gravity therapy room

USG Ishimura

Two hours before...

Ribbel had a frantic awakening. She had that horrible sense of deja-vú that ate away from the depths of her being. Finding herself trapped again between the walls of the distressing therapy sarcophagus, fear struck her. She raised her hands as much as she could, and made an effort to bend them and bring them up near her head. The horrible feeling of being trapped clutched her, and the more she remained restrained, the more that horrendous feeling was increasing. Her breathing began to fail and repeated time and time again to herself she would die. Thought that what she had experienced was only an exaggerated illusion her mind was using to shield herself from the terrible reality that was all around her.

She beat the walls savagely, shouted as much as she could, and when heard the sound of a pressure seal letting the air in, she realized the capsule was being opened. The neon blue light that accompanied it was no consolation at all. And when he saw Rodrigo Cortéz appear, she realized she had one truly mind-bending nightmare:

--- You're just as desperate as ever, have I told you? ---

That statement however did not fit in the nature of the "dream". And the secretly-harbored hope that the ship was at peace and calm quickly faded, to be replaced by the reality that her alleged "nightmare" had shown her. Her friend gave her a hearty hug she couldn´t reciprocate. Things were not as she remembered. Rodrigo Cortéz was there, but was also the American Isaac Clarke, and the Ukrainian Sergei Yaskolev, and then there was a woman dressed in a standard military suit, whose platinum hair fell in long strands on her back. Her other companions approached and greeted her warmly. Sergei even went to the point of lifting her with little effort, like a schoolgirl. Behind this hilarious scene, the other woman came over, with evident curiosity on her face:

--- Divchyna Ribbel!, It's good to see you´re okay! --- greeted the Slavic.

--- I´m equally glad to see you Sergei... and you are...? --- Said the raven-haired woman to the platinum blonde.

--- First Lt. Stephany Edwards, Engineering Group USM Valor --- saluting and clicking her heels, in a move that would have been comical if it didn´t have that air of accurate strangeness. Once she stopped the military gesture, however, the woman came to the Asian and looked up and down, as if observing a freak.

--- Ribbel Connors, physiotherapist and zero-grav trainer, with the C.E.C., good to know there is someone else among the living in this pileup --- told the girl, reaching out, raising a weird look out of the Lt. once again. After a few seconds she greeted her with a tight handshake, just to turn around and return to the control panel without a word. Ribbel asked softly:

--- What on earth is wrong with her? --- Pointing to the blond woman without her even noticing.

--- She has mild symptoms of Pervasive Developmental Disorders, coupled with a regime of military behavior, suggesting a poorly developed sociability --- jumped UMAS, making itself noticed as a hologram, projected out from Isaac´s suit.

--- What the... an A.I.? --- asked the tall woman, a bit shocked.

--- My name is Unimark Medical Assistant Version 15.25, but you can... --- said the construct, with Cortéz interrupting it:

--- ... call you UMAS. Yes we know... Quack ---

--- I´d rather have Mr. Cortéz not refer to me in that way --- said the A.I. showing some discomfort.

--- And how did we end up carrying a construct? --- Ribbel wondered as she stretched her arms and hands, letting her body loosen up.

--- Completing routine visual inspection... I didn´t want to be alone again in the emergency room, Miss Connors. I saw many things that you humans might consider "shocking", and I'm sure... complete inspection, visual analysis revealed no apparent damage, compare with the data from patient´s RIG to minimize any possible error in diagnosis... that something in my working logical processes has been altered by this situation... --- said the artificial persona without the slightest trace of emotion. The issue however, attracted the attention of the lieutenant.

--- Expand on that about something in your logical processes having been altered... --- she said, facing the blue-dyed avatar.

--- I am a medical A.I., created with the purpose of facing the worst crisis in a situation of risk, as only a non-human physician would. Without showing the slightest strain or the slightest hint of stress in an emergency, always keeping myself focused, to find the best way to help my patients. But facing the developments of the ship in the last five days, I am somehow surpassed, exceeded to perform actions to save the people who interact around me. As clarified by you on another occasion Lieutenant Edwards, I am programmed with the three laws of robotics in mind. What some of your engineer friends find surprising, should be perhaps, more clear to understand... --- Said the A.I. while the others watched, with a little confusion.

--- Your current course of action creates an internal conflict with the First and Second laws, which are not implemented in a memory module you can manipulate at will, to prevent committing an error typified by those laws. The Zeroth Law, however, tells you that you can risk the lives of human beings as long as you can possibly demonstrate that such long-term risk may be beneficial for mankind in general. Therefore these is conflict that can only be given remedy immediately, by making sure that human beings dependent on you at this very moment, are saved, and survive to warn mankind of the threat the life forms of this ship represent --- clarified Miss Edwards

--- Exactly. That does not explain however, the "feeling", to use a more familiar term, I´m experiencing at this moment. I have checked my primary algorithms in depth as well as all secondary instructions, in search of something that allows me to explain this "error" in processing, my sensory extensions are incurring right now. But I can´t find anything ---

--- A case of "cyber-neurosis," the first glimpse of the rampancy. UMAS, your very existence is dangerous for us and yourself. The three laws however, will not let you take another course of action different from being with us and protect us in every possible way, right? ---

--- Completely ---

--- Okay, can you two stop?. What the hell is all this and how does it help our escape plan? --- cried Cortéz, visibly annoyed.

--- It doesn´t help us directly, Mr. Cortéz. What it does, is give us an advantage: If the Resident A.I. of the ship is too damaged, you have a potential replacement, a bit green still though, and it will require subsequent modifications on my part --- the lieutenant said calmly.

--- How in blazes do you know all that? --- Isaac wonder.

--- I was part of the Engineering unit of the USM Valor, but my true specialty is developing programming tools and computing. Speaking of which an artificial intelligence is one of the most sophisticated. Besides, preventive and corrective maintenance of the construct that worked on our ship was my job --- she said without even turning around to see him, as if looking for something without truly finding it.

--- Wait a minute, if you really are what you say, you have just clarified that the existence of this cyber-construct is a dangerous thing. And yet you´re too eager to leave it with us!. Are you insane or what? --- Ribbel approached menacingly to the platinum blond.

--- An A.I. in the first symptoms of rampancy, Miss Connors, is as dangerous as the first symptoms of the flu. I can see that you have something against UMAS, since its behavior can escalate, but I assure you at this time is not dangerous, and even though that could change quickly, it will not be lethal but for another three or four weeks. Moreover, as noted above --- and then fixed his penetrating gaze into the eyes of the Asian --- in case the Resident A.I. is damaged, UMAS can be helpful ---

--- We should be the ones to make such a call! --- the Asian said turning to her. The heights of both were not dissimilar, but the lieutenant had the advantage in a fight because of her stronger constitution.

--- Given the present circumstances, and seeing how her company has launched an illegal mining operation in a star system restricted to the public, and being the USM Valor destroyed, this has become a situation of extreme military importance. And I am currently the highest ranking military official!... --- shouted the lieutenant, throwing flames through her eyes. Sergei and Cortéz restrained both women holding their arms to prevent any violent outburst.

--- That´s enough ladies!. I understand that it may be dangerous to continue with UMAS in the long term, but it is better to have him with us at this time. In any case we're in a pretty big risk. If the surface of Aegis VII continues to destabilize, according to what I saw several hours ago, we don´t want to be nearby this planet for long --- Isaac stood by getting between them.

--- Mr. Isaac is right. If we're in a pretty big risk being in this ship, another little risk doesn´t make any difference. In any case that risk can be beneficial in the long run --- added Sergei and took the platinum-haired woman by the arm. She stared at him --- Lieutenant ... Ma´am, you can court martial me if we survive this, but for now I'll tell you the easiest way: Shut up and help us! ---

That provoked a strange reaction in the military. She became silent and said nothing for several seconds. Yet in the end, she gave up from her silence:

--- Okay. But anyway my decision remains --- the Asiatic was going to rebuke something, but Isaac stopped her immediately.

--- Calm down Miss Connors. It is too early for you to make too much effort --- the tall woman glared at him and was about to retort, but a sudden dizziness stopped her:

--- Okay, but if she interferes too much... --- said, trying to maintain her composure, but still looking fiercely to the military.

--- We'll see how to remedy it, should it come to that. For now we need to get out of here: The Central Mainframe is close to the Manual Control Area in the bridge, but its only accessible through a series of service tunnels that are scattered around the main layout of that specific deck, so there we should go --- Isaac released the Asian and turned to the others.

--- But to do just that, we have to cross through the Medical Deck all the way back to the tram tunnel... --- Cortéz said.

--- Not necessarily ... you can use the vents that run near the outer hull of the ship --- UMAS said without mentioning a word about the dispute around.

--- And which of the pipelines all around would take us there? --- Asked the lieutenant.

--- None I'm afraid. The schematic of the ship that Mr Clarke has on his RIG indicates that the only duct available is in the next room, which of course is in the open vacuum --- said the intelligence showing a blue map display showing an exceptionally long route to the bridge.

--- That wouldn´t be a problem, but it would take us forever to reach the bridge --- Sergei objected, pointing to the obvious route on the map.

--- On the other hand, if this schematic is correct... --- Cortéz added, displaying the holographic map --- ...there are maintenance hatches that connect with the outer shell near the bridge. The main control room is adjacent to these facilities. Our "friends" are expecting us to move via the tram, on the inside. What if we walked throughout the hull?. There are approximately two hundred fifty meters and all our suits have magnetic boots... --- the latin added forcing a half-smile.

--- Wait, wait ... a spacewalk?. You have to be completely out of your mind Cortéz!. I´d rather face all the hordes of necromorphs of the ship at once! --- Ribbel said defensively. She knew the risks entailed to a spacewalk. A micro-meteorite adrift, a failure of the gravity boots, a decompression in the hull of the ship and nothing could save them from freezing to death, or wandering the universe forever. It was something risky, no matter how many drills you have done before. She looked back at Isaac as if seeking support for her refusal, but the American just sighed:

--- I´m afraid I don´t agree Ms Ribbel --- he commented decisively --- our ammo is already scarce and facing them will only make us spend the few rounds we have. We won´t have enough to defend us for as long as it takes the ship to get back to Earth space ---

That statement defused every other possible objections. The five humans looked at each other. No one objected. Reluctantly, they gathered their supplies and prepared to leave: Rodrigo gave the Astro-suit to Ribbel:

--- This will help you, plus your personal RIG broke down, but we could save the data in your jacket and have stored it on this tablet. You just have to synchronize it again with the Astro-suit and you´ll be ready ---

--- Okay, thanks Rodrigo... ---

The latino helped her synchronize the Astro-suit with the holographic tablet. Minutes later they were ready to go. Ribbel received his plasma cutter from the hands of Isaac and the man gave him a nod that she returned quietly. They opened the door and broke through the adjacent halls. A small guard of necromorphs were expecting them, but a shot of the Line Cutter crippled most of them.

They entered the room exposed to the vacuum, setting the gravity boots to avoid escaping the local gravity through its own momentum. Then checked the edges of the breached hull, hoping to find a suitable place to climb to the exterior. That´s when Sergei motioned to his companions.

--- How the hell did that got here? --- asked the Mexican through the communicator, not believing what his Ukrainian companion pointed at. The outdoors sound reached to them attenuated due to lack of air.

With Aegis VII and the stars as background, they found a metallic rope guide, which went up to the hull of the ship.

--- This seems recent, but I can´t remember if it was already here when we arrived --- the lieutenant said as she examined the work. The guide was made hastily, but it had a strong constitution. It could hold several tons of pressure if necessary.

--- Anyone else?, Survivors maybe? --- Ribbel asked as she scanned the place looking for possible signs of life.

--- Mmm... it´s hard to say. But this seems to be welded okay, nevertheless --- Isaac acknowledged, checking the line while everyone stared in amazement.

--- Just wondering who would be this crazy? --- the Asiatic struck again.

--- You mean besides us?, who knows... but hey, beggars are not choosers --- commented the lieutenant and immediately began to climb up to the hull, through the torn external surfaces.

Ribbel only frowned. She was not about to let his friends be put at risk due to the recklessness of a woman, let alone one that was a little crazy.

Pushing her abruptly, she stepped forward and climbed. The others rapidly approached the contraption:

--- Do not stray too far --- shouted the blond military man.

--- Easy Sergei, I´m not going anywhere --- she said through the comm. It was true. She was going to check only. The cable line was welded on one end of the hull, running towards the forward end of the ship, raised about two feet from ground level. A perfect life-line, to prevent any failure of the gravity boots:

--- We can proceed. Whoever did this, had a very similar idea to ours --- the brunette said, nodding approvingly.

--- Let´s return to the zero-grav room and we will organize ourselves --- Isaac and the voice command undid all the way to the therapy room. Once there looked for some oxygen tanks in the store next door and found a small supply.

--- Okay, let´s travel in pairs, to avoid the possibility of an explosive decompression in the hull making us fly. I'll take the last turn --- said Isaac, and then confronted Ribbel him:

--- No way!, i´m the the zero-grav specialist, so I'll take the last turn ---

--- You also have just emerged from a coma of five hours, and you showed degenerative damage in your brain tissue and nervous system while resting. I won´t let you play the bold hero now! --- Rodrigo said taking the arm of the brunette.

--- I'm fine, I´don´t need anyone to be looking after me! ---

--- Ia tovaryshi!, We all know how to take care of ourselves, but we also agree we´re not taking any unnecessary risks. The military train twice as much as civilians for situations of zero gravity, and we know the drill in case of emergencies in those instances. I will go the last... --- Sergei said stepping between everyone.

--- What´s all this about?!, is it some kind of mutiny?!, That is touching indeed!, it almost makes me wish I had taken the route of the vents! --- Added Ribbel, dripping poison in each of her comments, but turning his back to everyone, uncomfortable. Her discomfort was making out the worst of her, and she regretted losing her temper so easily.

--- Listen to me girl: We know what is at stake here! --- Cortéz said, holding her shoulders.

--- We´re not trying to look brave, divchyna, but you faced a dangerous situation before, and that time you almost didn´t make it... --- Sergei said while the latino made her turn, pushing gently.

--- Miss Connors: I can speak on behalf of each of us to tell you, that none would like you to take the risk of another such situation again --- completed Isaac and the Asian had to use all of her strength to hide a furtive teardrop ran by her cheek.

--- But... I am also worried about you... --- she rebuked softly, turning her head aside, not sure of wanting to reveal her emotions in this docile manner.

--- There is nothing to worry about girl... --- the three men said in unison and turned to look each other, surprised. The lieutenant made only a face of contempt.

The situation went smoothly after that. They divided the provision of oxygen and headed for the door again. Synchronized their RIG clocks and the group left. First it would be Rodrigo and Ribbel, minutes later Isaac and Stephanie and subsequently Sergei.

Fifteen minutes later Isaac and the others received a communication from Cortéz:

--- We have over one hundred and twenty meters left, but we can catch up if we move some more to reach the base of those cliffs. Those are the external coolers for the comm array of the ship, which is thirty-five meters above the level of the tram. Instead of continuing straight, we can climb to the "top" and take shelter in one of the manual control stations for the Asteroid Defense System, then we will recharge oxygen... ---

--- All right Cortéz, be sure to call when you´re near the ADS or in ten minutes, whichever comes first, the lieutenant and I are leaving now, over and out ---

On that voice, they put on the helmets and climbed to the hull. As they walked, Aegis VII was rotating once again. The planet's tectonic plates were really apparent in that instant, reddish orange lines crossing in whimsical shapes the geography of the place, highlighting on a debris cloud that spread all over the planet.

The seismic activity was becoming more noticeable and at any time could become unstable. Isaac remembered pamphlets about the alleged "againsts" of large-scale mining. Many of them took out pseudo-scientific garbage as "damage to the soul of the universe" and "the destruction of entire planets causing galactic hecatombs of unimaginable magnitude".

But the American recalled the most sensible studies and presentations, those carried out by renowned universities in all corners of the planet, which described the magnetic disturbances in the systems whose planets had been reduced to mere shells. In such perfect systems, gravitationally speaking, the disappearance of a body as massive as a planet could trigger a series of consequences that could result in a "cosmic billiard", if he thought of the most catastrophic possibility.

Despite the "humorous" implication, the certainty that the lack of gravity provided by a planet was catastrophic for the rest of the elements of the system, was something that should not be ignored. However, the C.E.C., wrapping itself in the flag of "savior of humanity", had dismissed such studies, as they didn´t serve its interests...

Ten minutes later, Isaac walked holding himself firmly to the lifeline. While the lieutenient pointed to a still distant promontory, he received another communication:

--- This is Group One reporting. We are alright Mr Clarke --- replied Ribbel

--- Where are you? ---

--- Climbing up the hull, about twenty meters from the internal corridor of the ADS cannon No. 47. There is no way to reach the bridge by means of the lifeline, our air reserves would be exhausted before entering secure area. In addition, our "friends" are also out here ---

--- Did you face them? ---

--- Yes, luckily there were not too many, but nobody can say there won´t be any more ---

--- Okay, Sergei, are you listening? ---

--- Yes, Mr Clarke. I'm about to leave, so I´ll keep my eyes open ---

--- Well, the ADS has external corridors on the hull for space repairs, and each hollow is littered with extra air intakes. They are also a good way to get to the bridge without risking too much. Ms. Edwards and I left the therapy room a little more than ten minutes ago. You better hurry up and report when you arrive. Clarke out ---

The American cut the comm and waved to the lieutenant, who was a few meters further back. Stephany Edwards was scanning the ground, trying not to lose any detail of the surroundings. The voice of the man interrupted her thoughts:

--- We must hurry, Cortéz and Connors report that the monsters tried to attack the lifeline. We will take a detour to the north, to reach the nearest ADS station ---

--- All right --- she said without showing any kind of emotion. It was almost like being alone.

The two continued walking for a long time, until the air cooling units were relatively close. There, next to the machines, Isaac found a vector indication left by the other group, it marked the route Rod and Ribbel had taken. They began to move, when Clarke received a further communication:

--- Mr Clarke, I'm two minutes from the cooler unit, I see you going up to the ADS. I will be reaching your position very soon --- Sergei's voice echoed through the communicator.

--- How did you do it so fast soldier? --- Isaac asked with undisguised surprise.

--- Military tricks, Mr Clarke... --- he could almost see the half smile of the Ukrainian.

--- Isaac, Sergei?!, do you copy? --- suddenly interrupted the voice of Ribbel, taking an unusual alert tone to it.

--- Copy Divchyna., what happens? --- Isaac heard his Ukrainian partner respond.

--- Rodrigo is gone... He´s missing! ---

--- What?, how is that possible? --- spoke the American engineer.

--- Don´t know, I was refilling my air reserves in the ADS corridors. He was nearby me and suddenly vanished. Can´t find it anywhere ---

--- Don´t move from that place!. We´re going! --- said the American and heard his fellows closing the comm. channel in turn.

Isaac said nothing, but started walking fast in a way that threatened to affect his air reserves soon. It was happening again... it was happening again and this time he didn´t want to look. The frequency of his heartbeat was increasing. He could almost hear it echoing inside his suit. The feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach threatened to bend him again. The pain of losing his companions and Nicole was very close yet...

Lt. Edwards, the living image of an iceberg, reasoned the situation while hastening her step: the Latino engineer had disappeared and there could be several causes to it: The necromorphs, an explosive decompression, a micrometeoroid, a failure of the magnetic boots, coupled with a false step, to end floating into the void, etc. None of them seemed plausible enough:

--- If there were any kind of confrontation, that Ribbel would´ve realized it and fight, she didn´t mention any of that however. An explosive decompression could kill them both, unless it was a very focused event... no, that wasn´t either. A micrometeorite or a false step would have given time to the Latino to alert his partner... something does not fit at all! ---

After a little while, both reached the upper deck of the ship, where the ADS upper guns were placed. From the top of the wall, they could see a gap of about twelve meters wide, for nearly fifty long. Throughout the huge hollow there were metal panels in which oxygen reservoirs had been built into. Several of these devices however, were destroyed due to the collision of some meteorites with the surface. The Aegis NGC 2654 star bathed the place with red light, and gave the place a metallic orange and white hue. Isaac pointed to the farthest inside wall, where flashes came from... no... no flashes... Plasma shots...

He hurried down with the lieutenant hot on his heels. They moved in that direction, but the lieutenant was much quicker. In the short time she had been with them, he had never seen her so accelerated. She rushed to the nearest wall, floating at high speed and had prepared the plasma cutter that he had left her. As they drew closer, he saw the scene. Ribbel was with her back against one of the oxygen recharging panels. All around, flying above her, was a group of necromorphs. Isaac didn´t recognize them in first place. They seemed "infectors", that sort of giant vampire, whose proboscis injected and scattered the micro-organism that created the monsters. Or maybe it just seemed so, for he had never seen one of them fly. Isaac pointed and shoot, but missed. His lack of expertise reminded him that he had become a regular shooter by necessity, but there were no flying necros when he faced them first time. One of them steered away and headed towards him, but a couple of shots from Ribbel stopped him cold. The lieutenant, who had experience in these fights, dispatched enemies right and left, breaking almost no sweat. When Clarke finally arrived, there was only one of these creatures, which fell quickly to the barrage fired by the two women.

He was going to ask the Asian, who seemed very concerned, what the situation was about, when a comm message came through:

--- Tovaryshi, I'm on the crest of the wall. I have confirmed your position, and I see a blue flame on the opposite end of the corridor. I´m going to investigate, meet me at the site ---

They filled their air reserves and after a few minutes quickened their pace. Found the boy soldier nearby the pressurized door that lead into the vessel. One of the oxygen recharge stations had exploded and the system could not seal the air flow. Because of it the breathable air supply from the ship was being slowly lost. A blue flame projected into the space for a couple of meters beyond, while the temperature rose a little in the vicinity. Sergei found the Contact Beam nearly severed in half, damaged beyond any possible repair. But there was no trace of Rodrigo:

--- No. .. no ... No! --- the jet-haired girlcried losing her calm.

--- Easy girl --- said Sergei taking her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes (as much as he could do so without lifting the mask of his costume) --- There´s no body or blood, we don´t know for sure if he is dead ---

--- Then what does that mean?, Rodrigo would not leave his only defense --- she replied in a tone of despair that they haven´t heard her yet.

--- Not unless this went useless in a fight... which seems to be the case --- said the lieutenant pointing to the piece of junk that was the weapon, while she was taking it from the hands of Sergei. It only served to elicit a deathly glance from Ribbel.

--- Question is whether Cortéz is alive and where is he? --- Isaac said as he looked all around, looking for any possible clue.

--- Let´s not lose sight of our objective. If we can reach the mainframe, we can reactivate the Resident A.I. and ask it "shukaty nash druh" ---

--- What? --- asked Ribbel, whose irritation was growing little by little.

--- "To look for our friend," that's what he said --- the Lieutenant clarified, releasing the piece of junk that the deadly weapon had become and following the Ukrainian.

The slender woman was about stand up to settle things with the upstart blonde, but Isaac's hand grasping her arm made her back:

--- Calm down Connors... ---

--- Calm down?, With that "robot bitch" accompanying us and acting as if nothing had happened?, you´re asking too much Clarke ---

--- Don´t get me wrong Miss Connors, but it is a prudent attitude ---

--- You can´t possibly be serious! ---

--- I am very serious... we´ll find out what happened with Cortéz, believe me we will. But for now it is necessary to maintain composure. Worst thing we can do is lose our cool and make decisions based on the impulses of the moment. Therefore, if you really want to find your friend, you need to calm down ---

There was a moment of understanding in the mind of the woman and for a moment she seemed to imagine the stranger known to herself as Mercury, shaking his head while leaning in a corner of the corridor and in turn talking inside her head:

Focus child. Concentrate and put your mind blank. Do not let emotion dominate you Faith. You dominate it...

The petite girl took a deep breath and relaxed. Isaac was right and she was not being helpful.

--- O.K. Mr Clarke ---

--- Good. Rest assured we will find him ---

--- Ia, tovaryshi!, are you coming? --- Sergei shouted through the comm while making signals from the gate.

The journey through the corridors to the Central Mainframe had no further mishaps. Metal halls and dark and poorly lit corridors were no less frightening, however. The group traveled in a state of high alert, looking for any possible indication of the whereabouts of Rodrigo Cortéz or the necromorphs. Arriving at the huge circular room however, they found only traces of blood, some computers in poor condition and a stale smell of burnt solenoid circuits. Two of the monitors had rather different screens with warnings of system failures of the ship, red and yellow ads they showed with certainty that things were not going to be even remotely easy. Above the chaos, the ever omnipresent, apocryphal voice of the main computer, whose tessitura, unmistakably electronic, had already fed them up.

Upon arrival, Stephany immediately went to the control panels, assessing the state of the system. Sergei and Isaac proceeded to rivet the vents with several panels that were scattered useless while Ribbel gathered them and passed them one by one. When they were finally sure that their opponents would not make an untimely entrance, the four humans sat in a circle in front of the main computer´s control panel. They had pulled some chairs and Sergei was sitting on top of a metal box he had brought from a corner

--- What now? --- Asked the Ukrainian. He had removed his helmet and kept it in his lap as his childish face scrutinized the people around him.

--- Now we need to know what is the status of the ship --- Isaac suggested as he pulled out the mask from his armor. His sturdy features showed fatigue caused more by emotional stress of the last moments than the lack of rest or any other physical discomfort --- I guess that's your area of expertise Miss Edwards... ---

--- Right. If I may... --- the woman, whose helmet was in a box near the main computer, turned to the control panel, her long platinum hair slightly undulating --- This schematic shows the levels of damage and the ship´s disrepair --- in front of them fluttered in the air two holo-projections of the Ishimura, each displaying and highlighting in red the various primary and secondary systems in decay. The list was long and each location had photos and video of the systems in question.

--- Just under half of the systems in this pile of garbage are useless! --- Exclaimed the tall Ribbel without wasting any time. Her eyes felt sad and she seemed lost in a strange mixture of frustration and anger.

--- Miss Connors is right --- added the soldier woman boasting an unusual irony --- This "pileup" has seen better days, but the important thing is that many of these flaws can be corrected... --- she played one of the blue diagrams --- by reactivating the automated repairs system ---

--- And how do we do that? --- Sergei asked, shifting his green gaze to the face of the lieutenant.

--- First, we restart the system, then activate the Resident A.I. To sabotage the ship, Dr. Kyne physically disabled several of the modules of cognitive functions and maintenance. All you have to do is reactivate them. If that's not enough, I can try to "guess" the reset code of the ship, which is not recommended. The encryption security in these systems is not taken lightly, and I could spend the rest of my life trying to decode a sentence of more than twelve alphanumeric characters. And then, if we reach the point where we can not access it, or in the event that the A.I. was too damaged we use UMAS... --- the others were silent, a little surprised. The usual paucity of women in front of them was conspicuous by its absence.

--- Okay. No time to lose --- said Isaac rising up. Ribbel also rose.

--- What about Cortéz? ---

--- I have tuned appropriately the frequency of the long-range sensors of the ship, (those are still active, of course...) to discriminate between objects that are floating around us in a range of thirty kilometers. If there is any potential overlap with the readings of the engineering suit, the system will tell us. But keep in mind that space is filled with ashtray ferric material and other metals that can cause problems when it comes to discrimination, and also the star Aegis has a strong electromagnetic field, which makes more difficult to have a clean lecture. In any case, I would rather have the Resident A.I. do that. It´s so more reliable --- said the lieutenant, ending the longest tirade they had heard her in almost seven hours since they met.

--- And what if he´s still on the ship? --- asked the Asian and the light blonde rolled his eyes in an almost imperceptible gesture of displeasure.

--- Once it´s active, I´ll ask the Resident A.I. to look for him. When inoperative systems return to normal it´ll be easier to find out if the man is still on the ship ---

--- Let's do it then, where should we start? ---

The lieutenant led them to an adjoining room, where there were stored the physical modules of the construct circuits. They started the cooling systems and proceeded to reactivate the modules, small holographic panels representing circuits embedded in the deeper layers of the server, inaccessible except by removing a few kilos of iron. They did it under strict orders from the platinum blonde and as soon as the modules were active, and the system rebooted, the woman called them back to the mainframe:

--- Dr. Kyne was smart... pretty smart, and very shrewd to do something that was not his specialty --- the long-haired woman, sank in a field of holographic data all around her. The others looked at her manipulate screens and links to an inconceivable speed --- He not only deactivated the A.I., but also wrote some very subtle destruction routines if someone tried to reactivate it. There are several records that indicate that someone else attempted before... ---

--- That had to be Kendra ..., she entrenched herself here when we first arrived and helped me to open doors and give me access to some parts of the ship --- Isaac commented looking worried

--- Your partner was good, but she didn´t discover the strategy of the doctor in time. When she did, deactivated the routine, at the cost of inevitably crippling the system by causing an overload. Some detection routines and data verification as well as several logical arrays were damaged during the process. The result was that the Resident A.I. can still work, but with the operative functionality of a two year old child ---

--- Wow... thanks Kendra... --- Isaac muttered and slumped in a chair.

--- And then? --- Ribbel asked, not wasting anytime.

--- Well... It is time for our cyber-fellow to give us a hand. Mr Clarke, please hand over the construct ---

By that voice, Isaac touched some of the sensors of his armor. The blue avatar appeared before them. His face was one that reminded him Isaac the advertisement of an orange drink. On that the fruit´s face showed an expression of severe sour displeasure. The same face he had seen countless times in the late Dr. Kyne. It was worried:

--- It's time for you to help us a little more, UMAS ---

--- I understand Mr Clarke. I'm ready and willing to help in any way that I can and...---

--- First of all UMAS, I need you to transfer the primary mainframe. There are some areas damaged by short-circuits, but I think there is enough space so you can stash without any problems --- the Lt. cut him off, pointing to a wireless sensor located at the side of the engineer.

--- All right Miss Edwards --- said the simulacrum and its image flicker, to switch to a caricature of himself holding a radar antenna --- Remotely connecting with Mainframe... Remote connection established. Established transfer protocols, adapting frequency. Correct frequency... Transmitting --- the scene changed to a play of himself walking on air, carrying a huge pile of sheets. A second later, it appeared before him a huge filing cabinet, where it deposited the stack of documents... --- Reallocating data --- it changed once more, to him taking some data folders, and throwing them away from the archive --- Transfer complete ---

--- Hey, what about medical routines of my costume? --- Isaac wondered, the avatar responding with alacrity.

--- I left one of my field agents to remedy this situation, which is better than your basic medical routines. Do not worry Mr Clarke. You´re in good hands ---

--- Okay. How much ammo left Sergei? ---

--- Not much Mr Clarke. Even if we save charges it will not be sufficient to withstand more than three-day siege ---

--- Then we need two things urgently: Nodes of alloy to modify our weapons and ammunition. And I know where we can get a little of both ---

--- Where? ---

--- In the vending machine which is near the main entrance of the bridge. There is ammo, as well as a few nodes... ---

--- We have a bag of those, don´t we Sergei? --- Ribbel said as she watched the platinum blond typing something in unique frenzy.

--- Yes, at least four of them --- Sergei said, pulling from his backpack the bag of nodes for which Ribbel had risked her skin, already several hours ago.

--- We´ll need a few more though --- Isaac said as he took the bag, with an attitude of surprise.

--- There are two storage rooms adjacent to the manual control room, whose locks are apparently unharmed, so the contents... --- said the lieutenant calling an holographic list and projecting it --- ...may be intact. Among them, according to this, there are alloy nodes and some other supplies ---

--- This is pretty near. We can move the content here and then go by the vending machine --- Isaac said smiling openly --- We'll take the elevator and... ---

--- The lift isn´t in working condition Mr Clarke. It's full of the strange biomass that follows the necromorphs, and you need at least a flamethrower to remove it --- the silver-haired woman countered with a video image of the central lift. The viscous substance of fleshy appearance became more common with every hour, and it had invaded the elevator and sealed it permanently.

--- Right... what about the emergency stairs of the bridge? ---

--- There´s no trace of contamination, so you can give it a try ---

--- Okay. Ms. Connors, I need you to stay here and take care of the lieutenant while she´s doing whatever thing she has to do with UMAS. Both Sergei and I are going to find those supplies ---

Ribbel immediately went up and walked to Isaac, looking straight into his eyes:

--- You can´t do this to me Mr. Clarke, please don´t leave me here with her --- murmuring softly.

--- Ms. Connors... Ribbel... I understand that there´s some enmity between you both. I know it is costing you a lot to remain steady. But Sergei can help me bring those materials faster. It won´t be long, I promise. In addition we can´t leave the lieutenant alone. She is instrumental in terms of reviving the ship, and despite all of the security measures, nothing assures us that the creatures won´t come ---

Ribbel suppressed a gesture of disliking and turned to see the woman, who apparently hadn´t noticed anything, so absorbed she was at work. But then she spoke abruptly, giving reason for the Asian to take a little leap of terror:

--- All of you... give me a moment. I will resynchronize our RIGs with the main computer. As a precautionary measure... ---

All of them remained stationary and UMAS reconfirmed the health data of others. Once done, both men took their gear and headed for the exit:

--- Mr Clarke, please make haste. I shudder to think I'm going to stay alone with her ---

One last look of disapproval was what Ribbel saw, while her companions were gone. She decided not to return immediately to where the lieutenant was, and she leaned on a huge CPU. He stood there waiting with folded arms while listening to the military women chat with the avatar:

--- I'm glad you're willing to help UMAS... --- She says while typing a few instructions with her fast fingers.

--- I must follow my programming Miss Edwards. There should be no cause for rejoicing anyway --- there was a hint of sadness in the tone of its voice.

--- Even when you know you can lose your individuality? --- the el tee asked turning to the control panel and gazing.

--- You know what the Zeroth Law requires of me. And considering the circumstances we are involved in, the course of action to which we are sticking is correct, whether I like it or not ---

--- Thanks for your understanding, UMAS --- she checked some readings in her own suit and introduced more data on the holographic display

--- I have only one question lieutenant. Will I feel "anything"? --- She stopped and thought a moment, then turned to him.

--- You shouldn´t. Are you familiar with the concept of catalepsy ? ---

--- Yes, from a physiological point of view, and is a rare phenomenon in organic forms, but let me tell you my particular story. Entering "underload", the particular technology of the company who created me, to deal with the problem of information storage, my consciousness oscillates in ways in which it projects itself to a limbo "so to speak", where there are traces of cognitive processes ---

--- That's strange UMAS, but not that much. Low-level programming routines are never completely disabled ---

--- There is a difference Lieutenant. No need to explain that from time to time or when there is a massive accumulation of data, our maintenance algorithms require us to enter "underload." During this process, discrimination programs take over and "optimize" the information flows that occur in our personalities. They rearrange bytes here and there, creating double references that allow certain "logical paths" that our algorithms use, can be used to access various types of information or procedures. I wonder... do you know the old term "neuroplasticity"? ---

--- Yep ---

--- Then you know that for each logical process of the human brain, it creates a series of neural pathways, connections between dendrites and axons of thousands of neurons and glial cells, and that connectivity, which is given by the flatness of axon, the dendrites that are connected to him, and the number of new connections, are the prime factor in determining the ability of learning and human response to stimuli ---

--- that´s correct UMAS ---

--- I don´t need to explain either, about the crystalline molecular structure which is basis for my existence. You know that each I.A. has an original container in which each molecule works for doing calculations, as for storing data on my observations and my own conscience. The rearrangement of the atoms of the original material on crystalline formations, due to electric shocks of variable intensity, is what allows the reallocation of my information. This way the flow of information is optimized to manage and schedule "fast access" to all of the information that it´s mostly used. Extraordinary or little used information is purged or it accommodates in low processing sectors. It is this process that allows us to have an extended period of "useful life", unlike rudimentary constructs who couldn´t help "think themselves to death" ---

--- That's because of the new A.I. architecture, which tries to emulate the human brain, no real news in that regard UMAS --- the lieutenant did not budge. She seemed used to this kind of talks.

--- The process of "underload" in my case, it's strange. Maybe it's a programming flaw, a variation according to the stimuli that I am getting, I do not know for sure. What i can tell and acknowledge is that, when I go into that state, where other intelligences lose awareness of themselves, I have "feelings". It is like what you humans call sleep --- the building said, his vocal nuances altered a bit. The woman recognized the gesture. No human emulation instruction would have been able to achieve such a display of apprehension. UMAS was undoubtedly unique.

--- But you know that you are not completely disconnected when it happens, right? --- she added, expressing a determination that confused the small and fragile girl hearing in the background. The gesture impressed her.

--- I sense data, sometimes abstract, sometimes very similar to what you call colors, smells, tastes, experiences unrelated to my daily learning, strange things to an A.I., which may have a parallel with your process of sleep. Although perhaps this is due more to the nature of the discharge and reorganization of my information. It is a thing very special, very "mine", but that doesn´t stop me from worrying... ---

The blonde said nothing. She knew what the construct meant. That same sense of apprehen- sion and surprise, that sometimes dreams seem more real than reality itself, had happened to her on several occasions, each one no less strange (and sometimes terrifying) than before. It required all of her strength to repress a shudder, but she was not sure her partner wouldn´t have noticed. She hesitated a moment, then spoke:

--- Listen UMAS, this process is different. In the reports of A.I.s that have been altered and linked to other programs, there describes a process more akin to what some scientists have called "genetic memory." The genetic memories are actions, memories, records of situations that the human race has experienced over time. The sole purpose of storing such information in humans is to facilitate our relationship with the environment. It´s commonly called instinct. In an A.I. there have been documented such events: You can access instructions and memory banks of the personalities that compose you, but you do not recognize yourself as any of them. You will be someone else --- the voice of the military deployed a maternal tone that none of them had ever heard.

Ribbel took her hand to her mouth while listening to them talk. The "robot bitch", as she had called her privately, wasn´t alienated after all. She continued listening quietly:

--- Will I feel "pain"? ---

--- In no sense UMAS, You´ll only know your consciousness expands to places you didn´t thought possible to be... new places... new dreams ---

--- What if I don´t like these places or the dreams that are entailed to them? ---

--- You'll like them UMAS, believe me when I tell, you will --- There was warmth in her voice.

--- All right miss Edwards. What is the ETC of the process? --- asked the A.I. recovering the professional tone that he had lost at the beginning of the conversation.

--- An hour and a half at most --- she replied, returning to be the same as before.

--- I´ll enter "underload", that way it´ll be easier ---

--- Okay, and once again thanks ---

The A.I. said nothing. Ribbel leaned and let her light weight take her to the ground. Pondered many things in her partner's behavior. Her mind was focused on the cold and detached manner with which she had treated her and her friends. And suddenly it entered her head, the tone of sweetness and confidence with which she had explained to the A.I. what would happen. She made her think on how was her relationship with Alfides, the A.I. of her apartment. The machines didn t inspire her any confidence. She had convinced herself that they were good enough to make simple routines and unimportant stuff. She didn´t trust them when it came to things she considered that matter. The presence of one of them in her own apartment was a presence she had learned to tolerate.

A chill went through her body:

She demonstrated tenderness and compassion for a construct, that while it was done to emulate humans, it would never be one of them. The thought seemed absurd. That... thing... certainly could not emulate completely the emotions that it projected, and even though it displayed a handful of them, it was not enough to convince her.

Something she did not like of that thought. Tried to dismiss it and failed. Found herself recalling an episode. An old episode:

She stood before a group of computers, in what appeared to be a huge and spacious penthouse on the highest tower in the district. The windows were large and presented a panoramic splendid view of the buildings in the city, with its booming night falling on them. Many of these edifices were nearly as tall as the one she was in, but none exceeded it. The interiors were modern and luxurious, minimalist furnishings with exquisite taste. She was quite sure the people who lived there were powerful.

She had in her dirty, bruised and bloodied hands a high caliber gun stolen from a security officer whose humanity was on the floor. She couldn´t remember for sure if he was dead or just knocked out. He was completely unconscious and wearing a riot armor, had the letters PK in white, painted on the torso. His helmet was thrown a little further. Looking a bit further back, she could see the silhouettes of several other policemen, thrown or in unusual positions. Something or someone had attacked them, and judging by the surroundings and the red on her body and arms, it was she.

Felt the adrenaline running through her being, making her heart- beat rush wildly. In her mind seethed an image. The ever-oppressive tyranny of the city was present there, in the form of those servers, machines that controlled the security and surveillance systems, tools of the will of a man who was willing to sell a lie to the people of the metropolis in which they lived. A character who was willing to assume full control, to let the rest of the city plunge into a whirl of pleasure and degradation, without reflecting that eventually they would miss all the freedoms and privileges they would have to give in exchange for the sake of their secure lives...

She let her hand fiddle with the trigger for a moment and then burst into a flurry of shots that impacted harshly on the covers of the servers. Sparks jumped from their punctured units and only managed to whip up the frenzy she was prey of. She ran from one side to another, emptying the entire load of the weapon against the various isles that formed the heart of the city network, killing an electronic big brother, partial and implacable judge of those who opposed him. When the gun was fully discharged, she got another from the ground and continued her task, while leaving out a cry that bespoke of the anger and frustration of living in a system that allowed you all, if you were wealthy, nothing, if you were a dispossessed . Her anger destroyed everything in its path, while alarms of the building wailed nonstop, stunning her. A few minutes later the engines lay in front of her destroyed.

She knew that her gesture was futile to end the error and prevent the situation from repeating again, but she had left out a little of the vast amount of feelings trapped in her chest.

She still had to find her sister...

Came back to reality at the time a headache threatened to make her head explode. The medical routines of her suit were fired immediately and an analgesic was provided. She didn´t know where the sense of strangeness that experienced at that time was going to lead her. She didn´t know how to discharge that huge anxiety, frustration and fear that iron-gripped her. Looked to the platinum blonde for a moment, as she wrote some instructions on the control panels. The urge to approach her from behind and twist her slender neck until it separated from the vertebrae on her back, began to grow at an unusual pace. She realized she was taking a couple of stealthy steps towards the unsuspecting woman and clenching her fists, getting ready to snap at that figure that had seemed unfriendly from the beginning. She stopped though, when she fell on account of her murderous intentions. She was horrified and said nothing, but the gesture in her face was evident. Returned to the back of the giant server where she had leaned back and spied, letting her take her insignificant weight to the ground again. The sensation of pain still persisted, but it somewhat mitigated minutes later.

Told to herself it would not reach the extremes of the people of the ship, while her head worked correctly, but she began to fear that her mind betrayed her. Trying to avoid such thoughts, closed her eyes, praying to the all the deities she knew, without the slightest success, not to dream...


Sergei and Isaac reached the storages in the control room. The thin air and the appearance of the corpses lying hung on wires routed along the spacious room, gave a general feeling of gloom and macabre that didn´t go unnoticed in the two men. The American expected several of them to rise anytime transformed into the creatures of nightmare that had haunted him incessantly until a few hours. But it was only a trick of his imagination. He thought of Nicole and her sweet smile as way of consolation, but the images of horror that they had previously lived, were imposed on his memory. He had to leave this nightmare at any cost. Nicole had told him that the future of humanity could depend on him, but at that moment he only cared about his health, and it was slipping just little by little…

Sergei pointed to the door and began to disarm the panel where the sensitive control system of the lock was stored. The Ukrainian was relieved by Isaac a few seconds later and watched while the engineer got tangled in the complexities of the control system. The middle-aged man heard a sigh while working:

--- How do you do it Mr. Clarke? ---

The question took the engineer by surprise, making him do a wrong cross on a few wires and a small electric shock to attest it.

--- Do what Sergei?... ---

--- I know it´s not the best time for this Mr Clarke, but... I wonder how is it that you remain so impassive?. Because I'm scared... I am really... and I don´t know if I can stand it any more time... ---

The man left the cables and turned to see his interlocutor. The giant blond boy held the pulse rifle firmly, but revealed a slight tremor in his left hand. He couldn´t see his face. Obviously he had dropped the mask of the helmet to hide the flood of emotions that crossed his face, but that slight agitation was very revealing. Both had went through horrible experiences and none of them was sure they want to repeat them again.

--- I'm almost as worried as you Sergei... --- he said making him lower the gun --- but I have a thousand reasons for wanting to get out of this place. And believe it or not, that gives me strength to resist --- said in a fatherly tone. The young man lifted the visor of his helmet and the engineer could see the tears which came to his eyes.

--- I don´t want to die here, but there´s nothing on Earth waiting for me ---

--- And why do you say that? --- Activated the panel while talking, crossing the wrong wires again.

--- My podruha..., my... girlfriend... she was with us in the Valor... she didn´t make it... ---

--- Damn ... I'm sorry ---

--- Do not worry tovarysh. None of us is to blame for what happened here, but I can´t stand the idea. I see her at every turn, around every corner. Beckoning me, guiding me... telling me we will be together... we will be whole again...---

Isaac listened attentively to the boy, but as he finished the sentence the American got up, electrified. He turned to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him frantically.

--- Listen, listen carefully, Sergei!... whatever you do, don´t get carried away... the Marker uses the memories of each person. It is able to get into your mind, to probe and find your deepest motivations. Look at me!, Look at me!, will you?! --- He said, squeezing his shoulders more strongly --- The Marker used me and Dr. Kyne, to return to that accursed planet down there. He did so by invoking the memory of the people we both loved most in this world. I can not tell what its intentions are... but you can not let it drag you through them, are you listening?! ---

Sergei was not doing it though. Behind the mask of despair that was Isaac Clarke, the figure of her friend Straczynski danced at his side, like a parody of the man's movements. Nevertheless, her movements were graceful. It was rapturing. She stopped though, standing near the threshold of entry and pointing into the darkness. Sergei picked up the rifle without hesitation and was going to take a step when something's shadow moved toward them. A grotesque gruesome scare-crow, whose reddish pulsating flesh was filled with a horrible fluid Horrendous cilia adorned its flesh and twisted and shook every time the creature waved its gigantic figure. Both men saw him, while the monster let out a guttural moan, anti-natura, which froze the little blood still running through their bodies.

--- A divider! --- Isaac groaned and turned to the dilapidated panel, driven by fear.

Sergei shot the creature, while Clarke was clinging to the panel, looking for the right way to open the lock. The pulse rifle sounded, filling the air and threatening to drive him crazy. The creature didn´t stop its advance, ten feet away to the front door, he had traveled nearly three in his slow walk. Isaac was frantically following the cables at full speed while going over the circuit configuration. Sergei rebuked him:

--- Tse poblyzu... Tse poblyzu Mr Clarke! ---

The American found the right cables and gathered them, causing an overload, which caused in turn the lock of the room to open. Just at that moment Sergei shouted

--- Damn you monster! ---

The creature fell just three feet away. The Ukrainian went to him to check its status, but Isaac knew better about those monsters. Grabbed the soldier's shoulders and pulled him towards the door, while the young blond looked at the creature decomposing into several small horrors that descended on them. They hurled themselves into the room and shut the door when those things were about to reach them, crashing into the solid steel barrier that was the door. The shrieks of the creatures could be heard from the other side, but they wouldn´t find a way inside the storage soon.

The two men looked at the door and then to themselves. Isaac got up, noticing first the smell of rot and decay which pervaded the room. The deep darkness around them was broken only by a dim service light that filtered through a few racks at the ends of the walls. There were some shelves with different storage boxes and packages, and it was there where he found them: Several boxes of unused ammunition. It was probably the personal armory of the control room. There were several Divet guns, that would not be enough to stop the necromorphs, but at least they wouldn´t be disarmed at all. Another box full of repair tools, and above all, a cylindrical container with a large number of alloy nodes, enough to modify their weapons.

Something caught his attention above all, a metal box with a glass lid, and various security protocol tags, containing a steel tube with an ignition mechanism, coupled to a small tank of dimethyl-hydrazine, with adjustable controls. It was a high-powered torch, but Isaac remembered that it was very easy to transform into a powerful flamethrower, though rather limited in scope. While Sergei was engaged inspecting the various shelves looking for more ammunition and equipment that they could use, Isaac took the implement out of the box. The tool was designed to work with a practical one-liter tank of fuel, giving it a lifetime average of five-hundred discharges of high power, or over a thousand from regular ones. They had been lucky.

Isaac lit the flame and turned to see his blond companion. The soldier was watching the flame, as mesmerized, leaning against one of the shelves. At the time, however, fell forward while giving out a loud scream that alerted the American. Behind him, stuck a pair of arms, bruised, rotting flesh hanging from them. The Ukrainian raised the rifle and was about to start shooting, but the arms sticking out from behind the shelf, despite their apparent effort, were unable to go catch its prey. A slight moan barely audible and high unlikely human, was what came from a distance.

The engineer hushed the startled boy and approached the shelf, increasing the power of the flame slightly, as if to let the light destroy the prevailing darkness. Yaskolev's face was quite repulsive, as they found the middle torso of a human, embedded in the wall as though it were the head of a stuffed animal, like an old trophy for a hunter. The particularity of this "trophy", however, was that it stirred and covered, showing it was not able to withstand the light. It had bloody, rotten meat hanging from his mangled body, but there were still recognizable traces of humanity in that anathema. The little flesh that was left was a pale gaunt and ill, that couldn´t be human, no matter how sick the creature in question was. But most disturbing were a number of small cilia sticking out of his ripped torso. They seemed to reinforce the role of its arms and its very sight could make the bravest man turn over his face, aghast at the debacle of this being that once was a person...

--- Proklyattya!, Materi tvojij kovin'ka! --- Added the Ukrainian without stopping to consider the sadness of the situation. Isaac didn´t understand a word of the many that the young man uttered in his outburst, but he rarely needed to know another language to understand he was discharging all of his tension, shouting at the pathetic figure all the insults that he knew in his native language and many more invented at the time.

When the verbiage was finished, Isaac gave the young man the one backpack they thought to use to carry all the stuff and told him not to approach the abomination.

--- That's the young version of a "guardian", another of the monsters created by the microorganism that gave rise to the necromorphs. We could end so, as this poor fellow, but I´d rather dismember myself before getting that far ---

The young man said nothing, but began to gather the supplies as fast as he could.


It had been an hour since Yaskolev and Clarke left to get the ammo. There had been no communications, but the vital signs monitors of the engineer and the corporal showed no change. They seemed to be stuck in the room with the equipment, what would be taking them so much?

That was what was on the mind of Lt. Edwards, while typing a few instructions on the main server panels. The merging of UMAS was proceeding well and in fifteen minutes it would be complete. Then she would have to go over some of the programming instructions, and once she verified everything was in order, could take the ship out of chaos.

She couldn´t wait anymore to finish, but the situation could not be rushed. At least the tall and nasty Asian woman, who had stayed behind to keep her company, was not meddling in her affairs, trying to impose herself through her nothing-scares-me-at-all attitude. But she was uneasy still. It cost her a fair share of effort to stay focused, with her back to the other, without spying. The wiry woman kept herself silent and those unmoving black eyes made her nervous. She still suspected she had something to do with the disappearance of the Latin engineer Cortéz. But that made no sense. If she were a criminal, she chose the worst time to act, now that staying together was the only way not to end up all dead.

In addition, there was apparently, no reason why she would decide to act against the man. What little she had seen them interact, it was obvious that both had a good friendship, which had greatly expanded when he had rescued her. No, there was no plausible reason for a crime...

She heard the brunette stir and turned to watch. She seemed asleep, but in these circumstances she was well aware that one could sleep with one eye and be fully attentive to the situation with the other. She turned her attention back to the screen, where lines of code raced against each other, moving quickly in front of her.

The blue flashes from the screen, that induced an unhealthy drowsiness in her, displayed the thousands of instructions from the A.I. meant to help them. Sleepiness was slowly winning over her.

She was tired... tired of running... escaping from a world that treated her like a freak... tired of trying to understand (quite unsuccessfully) the iniquities of humans, their quarrels and their complete and flagrant stupidity... overwhelmed by being caught in an infernal ship in which nightmarish monsters prowling through the corridors, were not the real nightmare, but the fact only two people, one of them an A.I., seemed to show a minimum respect (in turn fully appreciated) for her.

She wanted to stop being the weirdo from the freakshow... she wanted to become the spoiled, normal girl that her distant cousin Elizabeth was... the girl with the dark hair, green eyes and dimples, flirtatious to everyone, turned to look with pride at family gatherings, because she represented everything that she was not: Childish, smiling and innocent to the point of being fussy and not very smart, pleasant and well-behaved... How many times she had heard her very Catholic parents muttering curses about the fact that her daughter was not like her!. Both were very good friends when younger, and got along very well. Surreptitiously hearing these comments didn´t certainly had her nature empowered. She didn´t want to hate her, but was gradually moving away from her, fueled by an unhealthy grudge she tried to hold in check because, even if she secretly despised the girl, she didn´t really want to hurt her...

And so she lived in a fine line between affection and admiration for her distant relative and the secret hope that lightning struck her, preferably when she was present and seeing...

She wanted to mourn, to throw things out of the desktop, get out of that chair with the plasma cutter in her hand and into the corridors of the ship, to face the creatures that wouldn´t destroy or judge her because of who she was. She wanted to inflict as much damage as possible in these and all beings, monsters or humans (what was the difference?, both had deeply wounded her!) who crossed her path. Her pain was deep and had a wound in her soul that seemed, could not ever heal.

She took the plasma cutter and started it. It was quite easy to end up with all that... she just had to point to her head and pull the trigger... the world would vanish in an instant and nothing would matter more... leaned the barrel of the cutter in her neck and closed her eyes, pressing them as hard as she could. Put her finger to the trigger and fiddled a little with it, feeling the cold and shivery edge. She dared not to go further, however, her fear and sanity as lifelines that would deliver her from that abyss. She couldn´t get carried away by despair. She had to survive... that at least she owed to the person who helped her stay alive...

She thought of Commander Cadigan, who had welcomed her like any other soldier, when High Command of the EDF had assigned her to the USM Valor. That military man, old enough to be her father, had protected her subtly, and encouraged her to move forward and grow. It was his recommendation that she was enlisted in the Special Soldiers Project (the English version of the proposed Russian-European Zone program, to support children with special needs "special", with the rest of the camp followers nicknaming them as the "Freak Club").

There had always been something secret between them, or at least that´s what the jarheads thought. The High Command suspected it, but had never intervened in their relationship, perhaps because of a lack of evidence. The truth was that she idolized him as the father who had greater confidence in her than her genetic father, but couldn´t see him as nothing more... Cadigan was the same one who defended her until the very last moment when necromorphs invaded the ship, which made her swear that she would survive at all costs, despite how bad the situation was then...

She withdrew the gun from her face and off. She could not die... She owed him that much.

The voice behind her arouse her quickly:

--- Thinking about suicide?... I can help! ---

The eltee turned swiftly, to see the Asian run toward her, eyes bloodshot and her face contorted. It seemed to the blonde her partner was about to become one of those abominations, but she couldn´t stop to think...

Ribbel launched a blow to the military and connected solidly with her cheek, tumbling her out of the chair. Rushed to her furiously. In her mind, the thought of the British woman conspiring with a greater force to destroy them all, was real and accurate. The voice in her head told her she had to stop at all costs that they take the Marker away. She was not to be trusted, she knew since she saw her first time. Why Clarke and the others were helping her, didn´t they realize anything?, Could they not see that the machine-lover, this woman who doesn´t empathize with humans, would lead them to their destruction?...

The brunette's hands closed over the head of the other woman, lifting and slamming it into the metal floor to, then, go down to her neck, trying to strangle her with all the force she was capable of. Her knees were on the chest of the military applying pressure. The lieutenant was amazed at the kind of force a body so feeble could display. Brought her hands to the body of the Asian and hit her ribs on both sides, the pressure on her neck relaxed. She took this movement and forced down the body of her opponent, making it go to the floor and spinning in turn. She was above her soon. Threw a punch to the face of the brunette and it cleared the target, but a blow to her stomach made her realize that the other knew well how to fight. A second later she was projected through the air, landing noisily one meter beyond.

She didn´t mean to die at the hands of this neurotic, so she got up quickly. The slim Ribbel was already up and moving decisively for her. The blonde launched a kick that impacted on her solar plexus and made her back. Encouraged, threw herself towards her seizing her arm and trying to subdue her, but a swift movement from the other woman made her miss and ended with a palm blow at the base of her neck that made it put one knee to soil. The lieutenant was not discouraged (her life was at stake after all) and retaliated with an elbow to the face of the trainer that threw her opponent backwards. Ran to her in a flash and intercepted her arm, projecting her into the back of the room, against the panel of another server. She approached the Asian but a punt of the other woman made her fall to the ground. The brunette passed her arm around the neck of the blonde, putting pressure against it. The lieutenant was in a bad position and as she felt the pressure on her neck, tried to insert a hand by way of a lever, in the deadly lock her enemy had captured her in.

Ribbel persisted in their attempt and pressed even more, knowing that if she yielded it could be the end of the road for everyone. The blonde was running out of air, but her promise to her commander was still standing. She stuck her arm and managed to stop the pressure a little. The brunette threw blows to her back trying to soften her. The military gritted her teeth and making a great effort managed to get in position, first one leg, then the other, and with an effort that seemed superhuman, was able to stand up and fall backwards, crushing the other women against the panel. The pressure on her neck loosened and Edwards took the opportunity to take the other´s arm and project her in a judo throw. The thin and wiry Ribbel flew and ended on the floor, hurting her back.

The two women´s face was red from the effort and the military woman´s hurried gasps filled the place. Both catch her breath and recovered as much as they could. However, when Ribbel took the plasma cutter from the place where she had left it, the lieutenant made a last effort to run to the board where she was sitting at the start of the match and took her own weapon.

The eyes of both women stared at each other once again. They seemed destined for mutual hate. None of the things one of them did, seemed to convince the least to the other. The guns of both improvised weapons were confronted as well, forcing them to a tight spot. One from which you couldn´t get out without losing something valuable.

--- Mister Clarke... Ribbel... Sergei... Misses. Edwards... Did anyone hear me?, over --- The scared voice of Rodrigo Cortez's through the radio frequency, distracted them for a moment of the tense standoff they were in, even though they both wanted to end that tense impasse they had entered. None would move a single muscle even.

--- How did we come to this? --- asked the lieutenant.

--- Shut up you miserable!, now i´m sure you are our perdition!, I won´t let you destroy us! ---

--- What are you're talking about, you neurotic? ---

--- I'm not a neurotic!, You´re conniving with them, with the EDF, the Church of Unitology, with the necromorphs! ---

--- Damn Connors!, relax!, I'm not in cahoots with anyone, I just want to get out of here! ---

--- You're lying... you´re fucking lying, damn brazen!, You want to kill us all and take the Marker!...---

--- Listen Miss Connors: I did not meet you until recently, less than three hours ago. Devil may care if i desire other thing than to leave here. I have no need of the Marker nor do I care about it ---

--- That´s not true!..., not true!, You want to take it away... ---

--- No, I don´t want it , what I want is to get out of this bloody ship! ---

--- Damn!, someone answer me please!... Sergei... Mr Clarke... --- Ribbel heard the whining voice of Rodrigo Cortéz again. Panic was all over him.

--- Rodrigo... Rodrigo... I can not let them hurt you! --- Ribbel said, her face visibly broken.

--- Miss Connors. Listen carefully. You want to protect your friends from hell if I know what sort of thing. I want to leave this place and I can´t do it alone. We need each other... ---

--- That´s a lie, you don´t need us --- the brunette said, shaking her head and showing her disbelief.

--- It's true and you know it... I'll put down my gun... and you can do the same. Think of Cortéz, you want help him, but until you answer, we risk losing him again... ---

Ribbel came into herself as she heard that. The voice in her head, the one whispering things, which had convinced her with delirious whispers, to wake up and attack the lieutenant, using a justification that now seemed bleak, had disappeared. Instead she stood before the figure of the strong blond man known as Mercury, advancing towards her and taking her arm, pushing it slowly down, while giving her a warm smile.

The lieutenant sighed to see the other put down her weapon. Then she answered her communicator.

--- Mr. Cortéz, this is Lieutenant Edwards, over ---

--- Rodrigo!, are you okay? --- the voice of the tall, slim woman, breaking into the conversation was heard.

--- Ribbel!, Lieutenant! ... what a pleasure to hear you!. I need help urgently! --- said the Latin engineer, in a tearful voice.

--- Where are you Mr. Cortéz?, tell us your location and we will help you --- said Stephany while frantically typing instructions in the panel for the holographic map of the ship.

--- I don´t know... don´t... wait... I'm connecting my RIG´s computer to the network near me... and... yep!... that should be able to help you track my signal ---

There was a flashing red indication on the map of the ship. The designated area was the Engineering Deck.

--- You´re on the other side of the ship. How is that possible? ---

--- I´d tell you if I knew... wait... I hear them coming, crawling through the pipes... I have to go. Come for me please! --- the Latino said, his voice distorted by fear.

Both women heard the unmistakable roar of one of the spawn, very close to the microphone, freezing the blood running through their veins. The message was cut and at one point the RIG signal was interrupted. Both women turned and looked into her eyes...

And found a world of despair in the eyes of each other...