by Amy Cross
That's not my plan, though.
Reaching behind the main unit, I feel for more diary pages. It's clear that Deborah Martinez left them behind as a message, but having read through every page several times I've come to realize that there are a number of days missing. The pages were hidden quite haphazardly, so I figure there's a good chance that some of them might have ended up jammed in tight spaces. For my own sake and for Deborah's, I have to find them and piece together the mystery of exactly what happened to her. I'm convinced that Sutter murdered her, but I don't know why.
What I do know, though, is that she wants me to uncover the truth. That's why she appeared to me as a ghost, and it's why I'm convinced she's watching me now.
Glancing across the room, I half expect to see her. Then again, I guess she wants to make sure that she remains invisible to Sutter. It was a mistake to make such a fuss earlier; I need to keep this from him until the last moment.
Finding nothing hidden behind the life-support unit, I carefully place the main panel back into its housing before turning and making my way to the foot of the bunk. There's another panel down here, usually used for comm-link management, but as I pull the housing apart, I feel as if this has to be where Deborah hid the rest of the pages. It makes sense, really, that she'd use a part of the room that's reserved primarily for communication; as I search, however, I find nothing, and finally I'm forced to replace the panel and look across the room.
Those pages have to be here.
They're hidden.
Unless Sutter got to them first.
I pause for a moment and listen to the sound of him working in another part of the station. I have no doubt that he's coming up with a plan, and I wouldn't be surprised if he comes through soon and asks me to go fix something near the bay door. All it would take would be for him to override the main security system, and he could flush me out into space just like he flushed Deborah out. The guy clearly believes he's in complete control around this place, so it's going to be a hell of a surprise for him when I show him the truth: I'm onto him, and I'm going to make him pay for what he did to Deborah Martinez and for what he thinks he's about to do to me.
Making my way quietly to the hatch, I lean out and see that he's hunched over a panel on the far side of the control room. Whatever he's doing, he's engrossed in his work and it's tempting to think that I could sneak up behind him and knock him out cold. I'd have to get in touch with the nearest home-base and let them know about the situation, but I'd probably end up receiving a commendation when they finally realized I was right all along. Nick Sutter has turned this station into his own private little kingdom, and he thinks he can push me down the same way he pushed Deborah Martinez to her death. He's going to kill me unless I kill him first, which means there's no right or wrong about any of this.
It's survival of the fittest.
"You have to strike at the first opportunity," says a female voice nearby.
Turning, I see that there's no-one behind me, but I'm pretty damn sure that Deborah Martinez is trying to encourage me.
"I know," I whisper, keen to make sure that Sutter can't hear me.
"He's dangerous," she continues, her voice seeming to hang in the air. "We spent years together on this station, and I came to trust him, maybe even to love him. I thought he was my friend, and sometime I even felt that we might have a future together once our time on the station was over. Maybe I sound like a naive little idiot, but I couldn't help it... He got under my skin, and all my usual defenses melted away. I turned my back on him for a moment, I trusted him, and look what happened to me."
"He murdered you," I whisper.
"He sent me spinning out into space," she replies. "Do you have any idea how cold that was? It only hurt for a fraction of a second, and then there was this huge wave of numbness. I watched as the station fell away, and finally I was left floating. For a moment, everything seemed so beautiful and silent, like I was finally where I was supposed to be, but then it all ended. I managed to come back to the station, though, even if it was only in death. I knew my replacement would come eventually, and I knew I had to warn you."
"I'm onto him," I whisper. "I worked it all out already!"
"He'll kill you," she continues. "He's more dangerous than he seems, and he'll kill you as soon as he gets a chance. He was already thinking about it, but he wanted to have sex with you a few times first. Then he'd have staged another accident. Now he knows you're onto him, he'll go for something more direct, but you've got a chance to stop him."
"How?"
"Strike first. He won't be expecting that."
"I want him to feel pain," I whisper.
"Then do to him what he did to me," she replies. "It's the only fair thing. An eye for an eye."
I pause for a moment to imagine Sutter being blasted out into space. Although I'd planned to just knock him out, the thought of making him suffer the same agonizing death as Deborah Martinez has a certain appeal. It'd be a way to balance the forces of the universe, and I'm convinced that I could cover it all up. I'd have to contact home-base, of course, and tell them that there'd been an 'accident', or I could pretend it was a suicide.
"That would be poetic," Deborah says.
"Suicide?"
"Make it look like he felt remorse," she continues. "Then again, maybe that might make him seem like he has a conscience. He's a cold-blooded killer, remember. He slept with me, he used me, and when the time was right he jettisoned me like trash. Sure, he thinks he can justify his actions, but at the end of the day he's just like everyone else; he uses all this talk of rebellion and honor as a way of satisfying his base urges. He's barely one step up from a savage."
"Not suicide," I whisper. "I'll make it seem like an accident. You're right."
"Just be careful," she replies. "He's more dangerous than you can possibly imagine. Never forget what he did to me!"
"I can handle him."
"Don't get too confident," she adds. "Confidence leads to lapses, and that's how you'll let him get the better of you. Be strong, be calm, and above all be ruthless. When the time comes, you can't afford any half-measures. Knock him out cold and get the job done. You'll have doubts, but put them to the back of your mind. Focus on the task at hand, and don't let him regain consciousness. He'll try to persuade you to spare his life, but -"
"I won't listen," I say firmly, before realizing that I might have started speaking too loudly.
"Good luck," she replies. "He's coming now. He probably thinks he's got you right where he wants you, but we both know he's wrong, don't we?"
I take a deep breath.
"Don't we?" she asks again, more firmly this time.
"I won't let you down," I whisper. "But what about the other diary pages? Will you -"
"They're not important," she says. "Don't focus on them. They're just flakes of an old life. It's Sutter that's important."
Realizing that I can hear Sutter's footsteps coming across the control room, I turn and look at the hatch. I've never felt more sure of anything in my life: he's a psychopath, and I need to strike back if I'm going to have any chance of avoiding death. Sure enough, a moment later he comes into view, and there's a calm, determined look in his eyes, and in his right hand he's holding a syringe.
Chapter Five
Sutter
"You're sick," I tell her, watching as she backs away with a wild look in her eyes. "Do you understand, Crizz? You've got a form of Hidden Eye Syndrome, and you need treatment."
She stares at me, but it's clear that her mind is starting to fall apart. In a way, it's not surprising; she's already had her entire life, her entire personality, ripped apart and then put back together in this new form, and now those seams are coming apart. Her past experiences are breaking through, which is actually what I needed to happen, but they're emerging not as memories but as visions and hallucinations. Coupled with all of this, she seems to be developing a very real form of Hidden Eye Syndrome, and the result is that her mind is rapidl
y becoming a catastrophic mess. She's almost certain hallucinating by now, and there's a danger that she could turn violent. Fortunately, I have a solution that should help.
"I need you to listen to me," I say calmly as I climb through into the room. "This syringe contains an adrenalin compound. Studies have shown that it can be used to counteract the mania of early Hidden Eye Syndrome. After we've done that, I'm convinced you can push through the rest. You haven't got a bad case, Crizz. It's not the permanent form of the condition, it's just temporary, so I can help you. The problem is, if it goes untreated, it could progress to the next stage, and that's when things start to look really bad."
"Don't even think about it," she mutters.
"You have to trust me."
"Why?" she asks. "I don't have to trust you at all. You've already shown your true colors."
"You're paranoid," I tell her.
"You think?" She pauses, before glancing over at her bunk. "Don't worry," she whispers. "I know. I won't let him."
"Who are you talking to?" I ask, realizing that she seems to be suffering from auditory hallucinations. "Is it Deborah Martinez? Crizz, are you hallucinating? Are you seeing Deborah?"
"Who else?" she asks, turning back to me. "It's not a hallucination, though. You're not that lucky. She's haunting you."
"No," I say firmly, "she's not. Do you know how I know that? First, because I haven't seen or heard her, and second... There's no such thing as ghosts, Crizz. This is a classic symptom of Hidden Eye Syndrome -"
"You're lying," she sneers, backing all the way over to the far wall.
"Some people imagine gods," I tell her. "They think they're being watched all the time by a divine deity. Other people, especially out here in deep space, imagine aliens; they keep thinking they can see lights moving in the distance, or patterns hidden in sub-space signals. And then there are the people who think they can see or hear ghosts, and that's the form your disorder has taken. Please, you have to try to understand..."
"It's not a disorder," she says firmly. "It's the truth!"
"Let's see how you feel after you've been through the treatment," I reply, stepping closer to her with the syringe poised, ready to react in case she tries to rush at me. "Will you do that, Crizz? If this is real, and if Deborah Martinez is really haunting us, then the injection won't change anything, will it?"
She smiles, as if she's listening to some private joke.
"Can you do that?" I ask. "Can you try to trust me?"
"The way Deborah Martinez trusted you?" she asks. "That didn't go too well for her, did it? She ended up drifting through space..."
"Deborah trusted both of us," I continue. "In different ways, anyway. You were friends. Don't you remember? It was a long time ago, but you and -"
"Liar!" she shouts, with tears in her eyes.
"Some of the things you're imagining," I add, "aren't hallucinations at all. They're memories. Your old life is breaking through, but it's coming at the worst possible moment. It's mixing with the Hidden Eye Syndrome and creating disorder in your mind. If we don't do something about it soon, you're going to suffer a catastrophic mental breakdown and all our work is going to be wasted."
"Come on, then," she mutters. "I'm right here. I can't exactly run, can I? Do it, if you think you can. Just remember, I'm twenty years younger than you and I've got more recent experience at the academy's combat school, so if I were you, I wouldn't get too confident."
"I will use force if necessary," I reply, "but I'd rather have your cooperation."
She shakes her head.
"Because you don't trust me?" I ask. "Because a vision of Deborah Martinez has told you I'm -"
"Don't say her name!" she shouts suddenly. "Don't even think it! I know about you, Sutter! I know everything that happened here before I arrived! This is all part of your little plan to get me on your side, and then you're going to wait until I'm right where you want me so you can use me and then kill me!"
"You're paranoid," I reply, forcing myself to stay calm as I take another step closer.
"I'm right!" she shouts. "I knew there was something wrong with you from the beginning! You probably sabotaged that lander that almost crashed when I went down to the surface! You've probably tried other ways to kill me! Is there something in the water I've been drinking? Something in my food?" She stares at me for a moment, trembling with fear and rage. "You made a mistake, though," she continues. "You left it too long. You should have been more bold, you should have killed me while you had the chance. It's too late now, though. I'm onto you."
"It's okay," I say calmly, stepping closer and trying to work out when to make my move. "I'm going to help you. I'm going to -"
Before I can finish, she lunges at me. I try to push her away, but she manages to grab my arm and pull me down to the floor. As I land, the syringe drops from my hand and rolls toward the bunk, but I have to focus on keeping Crizz under control; she starts punching me, and it's all I can manage to force her away. Climbing on top of her, I reach down to get her under control, but at the last moment she manages to kick me away, and then she follows up with a second kick, this time slamming her boot straight into the side of my face. I fall back with a sickening pain in my skull, and for a moment I can barely even see properly. Scrambling to get to my feet, I blink rapidly, trying to clear the blur from my vision.
"Surprised?" Crizz says from behind me.
I turn, but it's too late. She slams something hard and heavy into the side of my head, sending me thudding into the wall. I slump down to the floor, and although I try to get up, I can already feel my body starting to fail. I desperately reach out for the syringe, but finally I realize that everything is going black.
Chapter Six
Crizz
"He's heavier than he looks, isn't he?" Deborah says, standing in the control room and watching as I drag Sutter's unconscious body through the hatch. "I'm sorry I can't help."
"I'm fine," I mutter, even though I'm struggling.
Back at the academy on Mars, I always had to work harder than the other cadets to maintain peak physical fitness, but I put in the extra hours and eventually graduated second in my entire year for both endurance and strength. The fact that I'm finding it so hard to haul Sutter through the station is therefor something of a surprise, but I figure I'm suffering from the effects of extreme stress. Either that, or he's been drugging me since I arrived.
"Where are you taking him?" Deborah asks.
"Where do you think?" I grunt as I pull him across the floor, heading for the hatch that leads down to the main bay. For the first time today, I feel as if I finally know exactly what I'm going to do. After all the chaos and confusion I felt earlier, it's good to have a strong purpose. I just need to finish the job.
"So you are going for the revenge option," she continues with a faint smile. "There's something rather neat about that. What's the plan? Lean him against the bay door and then simulate another little accident?"
"He has to be awake," I reply. "This isn't just about getting rid of him. It's also about making sure he knows, right at the end, what it's like to die this way. He did it to you, so it's only fair that the same thing happens to him. It's how the universe should work."
"Maybe our bodies will even meet out there in the void," she says. "I suppose it's unlikely, but then again, unlikely things do happen from time to time, don't they? Maybe his frozen body will catch up to my frozen body, and we'll cartwheel through space together forever. Do you think that's romantic, or is it macabre?"
Ignoring her, I haul Sutter past the main comm desk and over to the hatch in the floor. It takes me a moment to get the hatch open, but finally I start pushing Sutter through and after a moment he drops down the ladder and slams into the floor below.
"That was a comforting noise," Deborah says, wandering over and joining me to look down into the bay. "A kind of heavy thud. No broken bones, though."
"I don't want to break him," I reply, staring at his crumpled form.
"I'm grateful, you now," she says.
I turn to her.
"I couldn't have done this without you, but I hope you realize I can never repay you."
"I don't need repaying," I tell her.
"I won't even be here once he's gone," she continues. "You'll be all alone, at least until home-base sends someone to replace him. Even then, they might decide to send an investigator. Two fatal accidents in six months might raise a few red flags."
"I don't care," I say firmly. "I might even confess."
"They'd lock you away," she points out.
"So? I'd -"
"He'd have won," she adds. "Think about it. The ultimate victory is to kill him and get away with it. Do what he couldn't." She stares at me for a moment, and there's a faint smile on her lips. "I like you, Crizz," she says finally. "You've had a bad start here, but why not use this experience to make yourself stronger? You could rise through the ranks pretty fast. All you have to do is get over this feeling that you're being watched."
"I don't feel like I'm being watched," I tell her.
"Really?" She pauses. "Not even when I'm standing behind you? What about when you look out at the vastness of deep space, or at the surface of Io-5?" She pauses again, as if she's waiting for me to remember something. "What about when you were down there, on the planet? Those scratch marks were unusual, weren't they? And surely you felt as if you weren't alone?"
"There's no-one else down there," I point out.
"No-one human," she replies, "but we both know... I mean, I went down there a few times as well. I sensed it. You don't really believe Supreme Command and S.E.A.S. when they trot out those lines about there being no other life, do you?"
"Io-5 is a dead planet," I reply, even though I'm starting to have doubts.
"Don't be so naive," she continues. "What if first contact was made years ago, and it's being kept hidden from us?"
I shake my head.
