twelve

Kat's scream caught in her throat, a razor blade of fear, as the disrupter kicked against her hand and froze. An instant later, a hole appeared in the invisible barrier. Time stretched to an implausible degree. Breath touched her cracked lips like a gentle finger. A tear nestled in the crease at the side of her nose. Her heart paused in the middle of a beat. And for that single, glorious instant, she felt no pain. The pause caught her between agonies. She felt light, free, and yet cheated. She knew the pain would return, and that every breath would hurt her lips, throat and chest. She knew her belly would cramp again and that outside her prison, black legs of horror would soon strangle her.

Then the bead of air at her lips advanced, the hole sealed and the galaxy rolled. Time snapped forward and Kat understood she had rolled. Her prison was on the move, down and away from the path of those hungry tendrils.

The sound of her scream startled Kat as her throat opened and it ripped free. The bubble absorbed it, truncating the enunciation of her terror, making a mockery of it. She plunged through the remaining wreckage, her course jerky as she rode over small obstacles and dodged large ones. She waited for a beam to wrap around her, killing her, and watched, amazed as it floated away. She surfed over a torn section of wall. Then they were free.

They.

Bile burned in her throat as she accepted the fact of the bubble's sentience. The moment of reaction had not been random. She had been about to kill herself, ending the experiment. But instead of feeding her to the black tentacles, her prison sped her away.

Rocky grew large, the perihelion brightening until they dropped behind and the dense object blotted out all light. A new fear clawed its way free of her belly. They were rushing toward the dark side of the asteroid. Was that were the thing had come from? The black creature that seemed intent on eating the Bataille?

Questions continued to pepper her thoughts like space dust bouncing off her bubble. Had the creature been down there the whole time, waiting for the explosion? Had the heat signature drawn it? Was that why Jormangund had advised them not to attempt repairing life support? Why they had subsisted in small sections of the ship?

She ran a shaky hand over her short hair, now dried into stiff spikes. The familiar prickle against her fingers soothed until she encountered the lump on the back of her head.

Was there a secret installation on the asteroid? The base of a cult, or a cache of fucking mad scientists who dabbled in dark matter?

"Hey!"

She smacked a hand against the barrier and gasped as her palm bounced away. Sense quickly determined she should not try to pierce the newly rigid skin while her helmet remained a memory of dissipated eezo. And, what the hell would she do after she won free? Tumble through space until she joined Finch in the vast graveyard of space? Quickly, she thumbed the helmet tab. While the skin of eezo reformed around her head, she checked her gloves—a useless exercise as her suit would report any faults, but she needed something to do, something other watch dust flare around her in a bright orange haze.

Her weird-ass entry vehicle began bouncing against the gasses that drifted close to the surface of the asteroid. Her suit sealed with a quiet ping and friendly green light. She glanced outside the blur of gas and heat surrounding her and then yelped as she punched through the turbulence and began tumbling toward the rocky surface. Kat gaped as she calculated the speed with which she traveled. Her brain grappled with factors like g-forces and inertia, shielding and radiation.

Why wasn't she a smear on the substance of the bubble? A puddle on the floor?

God, was she dead already?

"Hey!" Kat called out again as she jounced around. "Where are we going?"

Stupid fucking question, Sunshine. They were going down there. But to what end? A hiccup caught painfully in her throat. Kat swallowed the leftover lump. Chin dipping, she fought the urge to sag in place, exhausted. She had been grappling with the unknown for too long. Afraid, for too long.

The disrupter rested between her feet, trapped by her heavy boots. Reaching for it, Kat curled her fingers around the handle. The weapon inferred no extra sense of strength or determination, but she gripped it anyway. The desire to end it all still beckoned, a small flash like the slow green blink of suit integrity. But her curiosity won out for the moment.

Her ear itched again and then something warm caressed her cheek. Man, she was so tired. So fucking tired. The urge to lean into the draft of warm, scrubbed air beckoned. To pretend it was a hand. Maybe she would do that. Just pretend. Sail toward her end, cheek cupped by a fantasy. She could pretend it was Finch's hand. Big, friendly Finch.

Eyes squeezing shut, Kat allowed herself to list sideways until her helmet bounced gently against the side of her prison. Warmth spread across her cheek and she shuddered, wondering if her imagination had provided it, or if her suit had finally decided to malfunction. She didn't open her eyes to check the HUD. She didn't care. If this was the end, she'd go down wrapped in the embrace of imaginary-Finch.

A buzz tickled her ear. Her brow wrinkled. Was that—

"Saaffe."

No, it couldn't be a word. Her scrubber was fucked up. Hissing air could sound like anything. She'd be thinking her suit whispered something about spicy noodles next.

"Saaffe."

Kat opened her eyes. A fatigued throb of panic surged through her veins, oily and sluggish. Her suit blinked green, so…

"So, I'm imagining whispers now."

"No."

She smacked her gloved hands to the outside of her helmet, gloves flaring against the blue field, one disrupter shaped. Kat pulled the weapon away from her head and checked the safety. It was on. Had she done that? She couldn't remember.

Outside the bubble, the surface of the asteroid rushed up to meet her. From orbit, it appeared brown on brown. Darker in places, but still brown. Sometimes a swirl of noxious gas (also brown), hid the darker brown. Here, on the dark side, it was black on black. The sensation of falling swept through her, spiking the lethargic note of her pulse. A brown-blue glow spread through the darkness, outlining rocks piled on top of rocks and it took Kat a panicked moment to figure out the glow came from her; her tools and helmet, the subtle lines of blue piped along the arms and legs of her suit, the magnetic lock of her boots, armed and ready to grip.

She braced for an impact that never occurred. Instead, the bubble swept her into the mouth of a small crater and along a tunnel that seemed sized to accommodate a woman in a mysterious bubble of whateverthefuck. The lights of her suit flashed along the walls, rippling like echoes of water. Then she tipped down and fell again, blackness swallowing her over and over as she barreled through a wormhole in the rock. After she remembered to breathe, Kat counted each inhale, seeking a calm she may never use if this was the end. Hope honed the dull edge of fatalistic thought, however. She'd nearly ended how many times now?

Then she landed.

And the fucking weird substance that had held her trapped for hour after terrifying hour, pulled away from her gloves and boots.

Kat fell again, this time onto the rocky floor of the cavern. Her helmet glanced gently off a small outcropping. Her suited body fared less well. Something dug into her hip and her elbow cracked against a rock. She hadn't thought to activate her shield; hell, she hadn't expected to land anywhere, really.