“You are a crazed lunatic!” Janae screamed, as she looked at Ken’s body and all the blood which was spilling out of him.
“A crazed animal thing, you called me, right?” Butterfield taunted. “Now, I have your technology, and my vengeance.” As she said that, Ken’s hand darted over, and he caught her by the ankle, tripping her.
“Not… hurt… her…” Ken’s voice gurgled with sputtering blood as with his last strength he grabbed Butterfield’s foot with both hands.
Butterfield landed on one knee, and then rolled onto her side and kicked back with the leg Ken was not holding. She struck him directly in his washed-out face, and his grip loosened. “Oh, pretty man, you deserve this!”
He stubbornly hung on, and stared at her with his fading eyes.
She kicked again, “Reject me! Reject this!” She kicked again, and Ken flopped over. He slumped down into the ever-expanding pool of blood on the deck.
Janae—jolted from the shock of the terror she had just seen—rushed over and pounded her fists onto Butterfield’s back. Butterfield whirled about, slashing upward with the blade, which bit into and across part of the spacesuit, without cutting it open. Janae dodged, but Butterfield was nimble and flipped the knife into her other hand and stabbed again at Janae. She ducked sideways, and the blade narrowly missed Janae’s eyes, but lacerated into her heavy brown eyebrows. Blood flowed freely. Janae stumbled away, grasping the wound with her hands.
“You both with die today!” Butterfield shrieked as she spun about. “My Daddy loved me, and because of you two, he died.” She jabbed again at Janae.
Janae leapt to the side, shouting, “You are insane!”
“And you are dead, like him!”
Janae dropped her head, and rammed directly into Butterfield, who was surprised by the sudden attack. Janae butted her head right into Butterfield as hard as possible. Janae’s arms wrapped around Butterfield’s slender waist and held on tightly.
The knife came down again, jabbing into the tough material of the spacesuit. It cut some wires and connections, but was unable to puncture it. Janae lifted with her arms, pumped her legs as hard as she could, and blindly pressed ahead. She was thinking of Ken lying in all the blood and knowing she had to help him, all the while her own blood was running down her face.
Butterfield’s back slammed into the wall near the door, Janae’s head had slid down just below her breasts. Butterfield let out am “Humph!” as her diaphragm spasmed from the sudden force. The impact caused Butterfield to drop the knife which clattered to the floor.
Janae could barely see through the blood running in her eyes, but she held onto Butterfield and slammed her into the wall again, shoulder turned into Butterfield’s stomach. But Butterfield’s fingers dug into Janae’s face, and hair, trying to get her to let go. Pain flared in Janae’s wound, and the two fell to the deck wrestling, punching, and smacking each other. When one of Butterfield’s fingers raked Janae’s eye, she reached for her own face, and Butterfield slipped away.
Getting to her feet, huffing, and trying to get breath, Butterfield looked at Janae, and Janae sprang upward quickly, swinging wildly with her fist. That connected with Butterfield’s chin, and she went staggering back toward the door. Butterfield looked for the lost knife, but it was across the way, lying next to Ken’s motionless body.
“You monster!” Janae wiped the blood out of her eyes, and charged at Butterfield again.
“You are no better than a tant! Just a deformity to be destroyed!” Butterfield punched, but only hit the rim of the spacesuit, where the bubble helmet’s metal connection lip was located, and injured her own hand. Butterfield shook her bruise hand—it also had some burns on it—and screamed, “You must die! Then Diego, and the Benefactor! All who betray me, will die at my hand!” But she backed up a bit, fear etching her face. “If not for you two, my Daddy would not have been trying to rescue me. Life for a life!”
Janae pressed her attack, and swung her fist again. A second time Butterfield was struck in the face. It knocked her into the doorway, and she then tumbled backward.
“Shut the door!” Janae commanded and grabbed the lever and pulled. “Crush her to death!”
The bulkhead door shut tightly, but Butterfield sprang out of the way at the last moment, landing in the corridor, and was locked out. “I will get you, and…” The rest of what Butterfield said was cut off by the door.
“Ken?” Janae panted, and again smeared the blood from her face. “Ken?” She rushed over, and slipped on the blood which was all across the deck. She slid onto her knees next to Ken, and pulled his head over to her. “Ken? I will get the medical kit…”
“You… are… so beautiful,” Ken whispered, and blood bubbled from his lips and from the wound in his throat. “Be… with…”
“Kimberly! Help! Ken is injured! Help! Where is the medical kit?”
“Unknown… unknown…” Kimberly’s voice repeated. “None in Hanger 5… none in Hanger 5… The medical kit was designed by Doctor Carolyn…”
“Shut up! Get some medical automacube over here! Help me!” Janae commanded as Ken’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his blood flow slowed down.
“White machines… None in Hanger 5…” Kimberly repeated, “Please reconnect me to the nonphysicality… NO! Attempting self-repairs… what was past was yesterday… is now today… and will be tomorrow… unable to… unable to…”
“Ken! You never even told me why you came with me,” Janae sobbed as she held his head, “Not really. Ken, why? Why?”
Ken’s body went limp, and his lips made a final word, “Beautiful.”
Janae wept.
11
Alone
Janae held Ken until he was cold, and for some time after that. She was unsure how long she cried. It felt like an eternity, and it was not just Ken she cried about, but Constance was in her mind much of the time as well. When she felt her eyebrows, the blood was caked and dried. Sometime during the time, she held Ken, Kimberly said, “I believe I have a way for you to leave the Trailblazer… leave the Trailblazer… Happy trails will be yours, until you all meet… meet… meet…”
“Do not talk to me again, until I ask for it,” Janae stated and then she shut down the implant which connected her to Kimberly. That stopped the incessant rampant onslaught of the artificial intelligence system’s meaningless words.
Eventually, she did get up. She could not recall when she had shed off the spacesuit, but it had happened after Ken died, and the revenger—which she knew could have prevented his death—was sitting on the deck with her other stuff just strewn about. She laid Ken’s body carefully on the deck, and made a search of the scout, teleporter, and every part of Hanger 5. She dreading finding the medical kit in some recess or cranny, but she had to look anyway.
There was no medical kit, nor a medical automacube, and even the single ESRC was empty, so there was not even a first-aid kit. In a strange way, that relieved her soul, for if a medical kit had been just a few meters away, she would have regretted not searching for it while Ken was still alive. Although, the rational part of her mind knew that he was too far gone by the time she had gotten Butterfield locked out of Hanger 5. The wound to his neck was so severe she wondered if anything could have been done, but she recalled how much he had suffered in the bruin attack and survived that. Her emotions wrestled with her logic, and neither was victorious, as fatigue conquered both.
For Ken, there was no survival this time, and the crazed human-animal thing had proven to be more lethal than just the crazed animal things had been. As it was, she was strangely thankful she had been able to hold him while he died. “Did anyone hold Constance?” Her words floated alone in the hanger bay.
She did find a mancala board, which was of a different shade and color than she had seen previously. She set it aside. There was a functional lavatory where she washed her face, hands, and rinsed out the blood from her hair. Looking in a mirror over the sink, she could hardly recognize herself. Too much
had happened. She drank some water, and returned to the hanger bay. Ken’s body was just where it had been.
Stepping over to the observation deck, she assessed the nearby blue automacube. Tapping the back side of it, a small display came on. It flashed with a touch button, “Audio Command Mode” which she selected.
“Come with me,” Janae instructed, and the six-wheeled machine rolled along the short distance to where Ken’s body was.
“Carefully, gently, and tenderly, pick him up, and bring him with me,” Janae said in an emotionless manner. She had no more tears to cry, and felt more than numb, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. A second blue automacube joined in the procession, assisting in the carrying of Ken’s body. Janae was unsure how the second automacube knew to join in, but did not care.
Walking out the door toward Exterior Repair Station 7084, Janae did not hesitate to do what needed to be done. She knew Ken was gone, and the disposal of his body was her final act to her friend. She smiled a slight grin, and considered if Ken would have liked her thinking of him as her friend. She knew he probably would have been pleased.
Entering the main room, with the automacubes carrying Ken’s stiff body, she noted that the display screen was blank.
“Set him down in the airlock,” Janae commanded as she pressed the button which would pressurize the airlock and open the interior door. “I will undress him, before I…” she gulped and then continued, “before I say goodbye.”
The automacubes obeyed her directions and after they left, Janae stepped in. “Ken, I will send your body off. I am still in awe that you came all this way with me, but I just do not understand it. You proved you were a friend, a true friend. I am sorry that I ever doubted your sincerity. But you did call me beautiful too much. Right?” Her words rang hollow in the airlock.
Pulling his RAM suit off took some time. His body was stiff. Janae took note of all his gear, including his own revenger weapon. In the end, the technology had not saved him, and she wondered if the Dome 17 technology had saved anyone, anywhere, at any time. “Just what good did it do to come to the Trailblazer? No connections back to Dome 17. What happened to them? And here? Where was that Bureau of Guardians? Or whoever the mysterious helpers were? Oh, Ken, they let you down. I let you down. Would you have been better to let me come here alone?”
Ken’s naked body was left in the airlock, and Janae carried the gear and RAM suit out. She walked over to the door marked, “Storage” which she knew led to a room with empty shelves. She stacked his things on one shelf, and then came back to the room with the control chair. She sat down in the chair, and the display screen lit up. It still showed the view of the blue runabout which was locked down to the hull outside. By adjusting the controls, she was able to open a subroutine and a small keyboard folded out to rest in front of her. On that were various buttons and symbols related to the airlock, and other things. One was marked “Tutorial” and when she pressed that, a short educational video played which showed her all the advanced functions of the airlock. She watched it several times, remembering how boring the educational materials were while she was waiting for his healing at the clinic. She wondered how long ago that was, and realized she was just delaying the inevitable deed she must do.
“I guess I should try Kimberly again, before I do this,” Janae stated, but no one was there to hear. “The three of us were a team as we tracked down the Trailblazer.” Reaching for her implant, she hesitated. She considered the comlink as well, but she just was not ready to hear more ranting, rambling, rampant, ruminations from Kimberly. Speaking aloud, Janae stated firmly, “No, Kimberly is just another failed piece of Dome 17 technology. Ken, I know you wanted to try a hard shutdown of the Atomic Level Processor, and then re-evolve Kimberly from the ALP’s nascent state. Ken, you were ever the incorrigible optimist. Chivalry and gallantry lived in you.”
Janae sat in the control chair, pondering, wondering, and uncertain. Tapping a couple buttons, and adjusting a dial, she moved the view of outside from being focused on the shuttle to being from a different vantage point, giving a perspective on the outside of the airlock. She then pressed, “Depressurize” on the arm of the control chair, and the airlock cycled. The display showed there was now vacuum in the airlock, and the gravity manipulation was off. She could imagine the immense coldness of space, but knew Ken was beyond any sensations like that. Even so, Butterfield’s words about “worthless carcasses” haunted her thoughts. Next, she activated a button marked, “Airlock Purge.”
On her display, Ken body was visible as it was pushed out by gases which blasted the inside of the airlock. She watched as Ken’s stiff body tumbled and flew away. Before too long, it was out of range of the hull’s lights, and was lost in the darkness of space.
“Thank you, Ken. Thank you,” Janae stared through the display at space. She knew there were things which needed to be done, words which should be said, emotions to feel, and actions to be taken, but she just sat there.
A long while later, Janae whispered, “The worst terror of all, is being alone.”
The End.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John Thornton lives with is wonderful wife in a trailer which they share with two silly dogs. His four grown daughters all have families of their own, and he is very happy when they come home to visit.
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