Open Writing

Holly jerked awake, the thumping sound echoing dully
in the room. Still fuzzy from the best sleep she had
enjoyed since her awakening, she sat up and saw that Jase
was also awake. “Wha – what is it, Holly?” he asked,
alarm on his face. Holly shook her head and slipped from
the bed, plucking her underwear and coveralls out of the
air and pulling them on as she did so. Behind her, Jase
also began to dress; the banging was coming from outside
as someone, rather than use the door chime, was evidently
trying to batter it down.

Holly, with Jase moving up beside her, touched the pad
on the wall, and the door slid aside. There, his fist raised
to deliver another blow to the door, stood Caleb, his
normally placid face a mask of panic and desperation. He
reached out and grasped Holly by the shoulders and, as
Jase moved quickly to disengage his grip, stammered,
“Oh golly, oh geez, oh Holly, you gotta come quick! She
hurt, she bad! Gotta help her, Holly!”

Holly and Jase pulled the distraught man into the room
and attempted to calm him, making soothing noises and
sitting him down on the bunk where they sat on either
side of him.

“What is it, Caleb?” Holly asked. “Who’s hurt?”

Caleb gasped, taking deep breaths and wheezing. “She
hurt bad, Holly! Gotta help her!” He started to breathe
rapidly, hyperventilating, his gasps coming shorter and
faster. Holly and Jase continued to try to calm him; after a
couple of minutes, Caleb began to settle down, and his
breathing slowed. When he was a little calmer, but still
agitated, Holly spoke quietly to him again.

“Now, Caleb, what is it? Who’s hurt?”

Caleb looked at them, his eyes still wide. “Miss C-
Chrissie! She..she hurt,” he finished, as all the animation
suddenly went out of him, and he became limp and dull,
his features slackening.

Holly took him gently by the shoulders, then put one
hand under his chin and raised his head. “Look at me,
Caleb,” she said. The child-man’s expression was still
muted, and she shook him gently. Abruptly, his eyes came
back into focus, and looked at her in recognition.

“Now Caleb, tell me. Where is Chrissie?”

Caleb looked at her for a moment, then his eyes
widened again. “Oh gee, Holly! She hurt!”

“Yes, Caleb, all right,” said Holly softly. “I
understand. Chrissie’s hurt. We have to help her. Now,
tell me where she is.”

Caleb looked from her to Jase, then back again.
“She…she in…in….Docta room.”

Holly stared at him, puzzled, then nodded. “You mean
the computer room, Caleb?”

Caleb nodded vigorously. “Yeah, yeah, Docta room.”

Holly understood. She had called the ship’s computer
“The Doctor” many times; Caleb must have picked it up
from that. Even the short time Caleb had spent among
people again had improved his communication skills, and
his speech was far more advanced than it had been when
Holly had first awakened him. Smiling to encourage him,
she said, “All right, Caleb. Is anyone else with her?”
Caleb shook his head, and Holly frowned, then said,
“Caleb, listen to me. I want you to stay here, all right?”
Caleb nodded uncertainly, and Holly said, “Just stay right
here and take it easy, OK? Keep the door shut, and only
open it for me or Jase. No one else, Caleb. Okay?”

Caleb nodded again, and Holly released her grip on
him. “That’s good, Caleb.” She turned to Jase. “I have to
go see what’s happened to Chrissie,” she said. “You can
stay here if you want.” She touched his cheek, and Jase
shook his head. “No, I’ll c-come with you, Holly. I have
to p-p-protect you.”

Holly smiled. Caleb would be all right here by himself,
she thought. “All right, Jase,” she said, her heart lifting at
his concern for her. “We’ll go together.”

With a last reassuring word to Caleb, they left the
cabin and, closing the door behind them, headed towards
the computer room. Whatever it was that had happened,
they would find out in a few moments. As they hurried
down the corridors, pulling themselves along by the hand-
holds, Holly tried to imagine what could have hurt the
South African girl, but one thing kept intruding on her
thoughts: Caleb had said that no one else was with her.
She could understand that the other two women and the
Russian might not know anything was wrong, or if they
did, might run away, but one question remained: why was
it Caleb who had come to her cabin? And where was
Hoddle?

With this disturbing thought in her mind, she increased
her pace, half-dragging Jase behind her.

* * *

Alone and complete in the darkness of himself, he
weaves his webs and savors the memory of the woman,
warm and vital in his hands, her throat pulsing in his
grip, her voluptuous body writhing beneath him. How she
struggled, how she fought! The sheer animal excitement
of it threatens to overwhelm him again, and he controls
himself with an effort. The others cannot remember how
they were before, but he knows. He was weak; if it took
the accident to change him into what he has become, then
he is grateful.

They believe that he has lost some of his intelligence,
but he knows that he has lost nothing; on the contrary, he
has gained much. These others are fodder for him, useless
vegetables good for only one thing; a crop that he will,
from time to time and as it pleases him, harvest. But first,
there will need to be some culling done.

The female, Parmentier, will be looking for him now,
he knows. She thinks, because she is the only one
unaffected by the accident, that she is the superior
intelligence on the ship; how wrong she is! She will learn,
as will they all, that there is only one master of this vessel.
Still, she could be dangerous, and he will have to take
steps to eliminate her as soon as possible.

There will be no turning back to earth, no returning to
the sleep cells. They will continue on to their destination,
and will colonize the planet. And there he will launch a
dynasty that will last for millennia.

He thinks again of the South African woman. Stupid
cow! Why did she struggle? All she had to do was lie
there and accept him; he would have done the rest. But
no, she couldn’t even do that; she had made so much
noise, and had fought so much, he had been forced to kill
her. He had needed her for breeding; now he will have to
alter his original plans, but it is no cause for any real
concern. Besides Parmentier, there are two other women
awake on the ship, more than enough to be going on with.
And there are thousands more in the sleep cells if those
three should also prove uncooperative.

He moves deeper into the ship, opening and closing
doors after him, aerating and emptying rooms as he goes,
using the codes he has extracted from the computer to
conceal his movements. He has thought his plans through
meticulously; his preparation has been thorough, and his
hiding place carefully chosen. He will not be found until
he is ready. Smiling grimly to himself, he moves resolutely
on.

* * *

Holly and Jase flew into the room that housed the
mainframe of the ship’s brain and struggled to halt
themselves, grabbing at tables to slow down their
headlong rush. The room was full of globules of a
reddish-brown substance that Holly immediately
recognized; if the color was not enough, the coppery
smell confirmed its identity. The room was awash with
blood.

Carefully, trying not to gag at the sight and smell
assailing her senses, Holly drifted above the wreckage of
the room’s furniture, pushing aside dented tables and
chairs, dodging pockets of the blood, Jase following close
behind her. There was a table fixed to the far wall on a
swivel arrangement, and Holly knew, even before she
moved it, what they would find. They took one end and
swung it away from the wall, and Holly gasped at the
sight that greeted them.

Chrissie van der Merwe was lying on her side, floating
near the floor, her coveralls slit open and her lower body
exposed, one arm across her face obscuring her features.
Holly pulled herself down beside the South African
woman and gently moved her arm, then immediately
wished she hadn’t.

Chrissie’s throat had been cut, rather slashed from ear
to ear, all the way through to the vertebrae at the top of
her spine. Both her jugular vein and carotid artery had
been severed, and the shocking wound gaped at the two
would-be rescuers. Her skin was pale and very white,
since all eight pints of her blood were now floating
around the room.

As there was clearly nothing they could do for
Chrissie, Holly and Jase moved back and drifted near the
doorway, leaving her where she was. Then Holly took
several deep breaths and deliberately did not look at the
body again as she tried to think. There were so many
questions, she didn’t know where to begin. Witnesses,
that would be a start, she thought. But there was no one
here, only Caleb, and she doubted that he actually saw
anything. Probably just walked in and found her. She tried
to imagine a six year-old child being confronted with
something like that, and she knew that, under the
circumstances, Caleb had probably handled it very well.
Perhaps he was not as far gone as Holly had originally
thought.

She turned to Jase, took his hand, and smiled
reassuringly. “You okay, Jase?” she asked. He nodded,
his face grim and serious, an uncertain smile flickering on
and off. “Sure, Holly,” he said. “I-I’m fine. What do we
d-do now?”

Holly shook her head. “I don’t know, Jase. If only
there had been someone here besides…” She broke off as
the obvious finally penetrated her numbed senses. Of
course! There was someone else here!

Quickly, she moved to the bank of computer terminals
and entered her personal code. After a second’s pause, the
familiar features of the Doctor appeared on the screen.

“Hi, doll. Whaddaya say we…”

“Doc, no time. I need some answers, fast.”

The computer immediately became businesslike. “Sure
thing, Holly. Shoot.”

Holly thought for a moment. “Doc, who has been in
this room in the last half hour?”

The computer was silent for so long, almost a minute,
that Holly began to think it had malfunctioned. Finally, it
said, “Sorry, Holly. I had to check my entire system. Even
for me, that takes a while. I’m afraid I can’t give you an
answer. I seem to have suffered a ten-minute off-line
shutdown sometime during the past two hours.”

Holly stared at the terminal. “How can that be?” she
gasped. “You can’t be shut down! I’ve never heard of you
being shut down. Even when the meteor struck, you were
still on-line; only your higher functions were affected. I
couldn’t begin to imagine how you could be shut down.”
Holly stared at the terminal. “I mean, you can’t be. Can
you?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I can,” replied the Doctor.
“But it would take someone with more computer savvy
than you, Holly. No offense. And there’s no one else
awake who has the necessary skills. Except…”

“Hoddle!” Holly ground out the name, and the
computer agreed.

“Yes, Holly, Doctor Hoddle might be able to initiate a
shutdown, especially if he is perhaps not as affected by
the accident as we have been led to believe.”

Holly stared, her mind reeling. “But why? Why would
he do this? Not only has Chrissie been murdered, it looks
like she may have been raped as well! Why would he…”

“He’s m-mad, Holly.”

She turned at the quiet voice beside her, and stared at
her lover.

“What? What do you mean, Jase?”

Kerr went on: “The r-rest of us said nothing, ’cos we f-
f-figured if you thought he was OK, th-then he must be.
But I s-s-saw him one time, when he thought no one was
l-looking. He looked really…creepy, and his face was all
diff-different.” Jase shrugged apologetically. “I was going
to say s-s-something to you, but...”

Jase trailed off, and Holly touched his arm
sympathetically, then turned back to the terminal. “Is that
possible, Doc?” she asked. “Could Hoddle have fooled us
all? Could he really be…well, crazy?”

“It’s been my experience,” replied the computer, “that
anything is possible, when you’re dealing with humans.
No offense.”

Holly thought for a moment, then said, “Doc, can you
find out where Hoddle is now?”

“Sorry, doll,” replied the computer after a short pause,
“no can do. My capacity for detecting his particular heat-
signal seems to have been permanently taken off-line.
Looks like he anticipated that. This guy may be a lot
smarter than we thought.”

“OK,” Holly said. “How about the others? Cathy and
Chiang and Yuri. Do you know where they are?”

“Vital signs are showing in each of their cabins, Holly,
so it’s a fair bet that they’re there.”

“So why can’t you find Hoddle the same way?”

“His vital signs aren’t showing up anywhere.”

“How did he do that?”

“Don’t know.”

“But he must be somewhere on the ship.”

“Don’t know.”

Holly bit her lip in frustration. “Have you any ideas
about how he might be avoiding detection?”

“Not at the moment, Holly, but I’ll work on it.”

Holly nodded. “You do that, Doc.” Then she turned to
Jase. “I’ve got to clean up here,” she said. “Chrissie has to
be taken care of. We can’t leave her like this. You don’t
have to help if you don’t want to.”

Jase looked at the sad, crumpled body on the floor,
then back at Holly. “It-it’s all r-r-right, Holly,” he said,
smiling bravely through his obvious trepidation. “I’ll help
you. Wh-what do you want me to do?”

Holly smiled her thanks, and they set about the
depressing, unpleasant task. Holly collected a body bag
from the same store cupboard she had used when she had
discovered the remains of her shift, and together she and
Jase managed to get Chrissie into it. When she got a
vacuum pump and began to collect up the blood floating
around the room, Jase stopped her.

“I might not be a-able to think very w-w-well, Holly,
but I’m s-s-sure I can do th-that.” He took the pump and
moved around the room, collecting the blood where it
floated in the air and wiping surfaces where it had
impacted. When he had completed the grisly task, he
gathered the body bag gently in his arms. “W-where do
you w-w-want her?” he asked.

Holly gestured for him to follow her, and she led the
way to the same room where she had stored the others.
After aerating it, she opened the door and Jase put the bag
inside. Then she sealed the door again and initiated the
sequence that pumped out the air, returning the room to
vacuum. Then she instructed the computer to lower the
temperature in the room again until it reached the cold of
space.

Hanging outside the door, Holly felt all the events of
the past week begin to crowd in on her; so much had
happened since she had awoken, and she was close to
sensory overload. She turned to Jase; he, sensing her
distress, put his arms around her and held her while she
sobbed softly against him, holding on as if to a lifeline.
Even though she knew he couldn’t take charge, Holly was
grateful for his support, and she knew he was doing his
best with his limited capacity. Through no fault of his
own, it wasn’t as much as she needed, but she was
thankful for his efforts, and the comfort he gave her.

After a few minutes, she gently disengaged herself
from his embrace and took his hand. She wiped her eyes
and smiled. “Jase,” she said, “we have to decide what to
do. Do you understand? We’ve got a real problem, and
we’ve got to do something about it.”

Jase nodded. “I-I think so, Holly. Doctor H-Hoddle has
done this to Chrissie, hasn’t he?”

Holly nodded. “Yes, Jase. She’s dead. You know what
that means?”

Jase smiled at her, a little ruefully. “’Course I do. I m-
may be dumb, but I’m n-not s-s-stupid.” Then he grew
serious again. “And you’re sure Doctor H-Hoddle did it?”

Holly nodded.

“Okay,” said Jase. “What are we g-going to do about
it?”

* * *

Later, when Holly had time to reflect, she would wish
that she had someone to tell her what to do. So far, in
flying by the seat of her pants, so to speak, she had
succeeded only in getting Chrissie killed. All right, she
reasoned, perhaps it wasn’t exactly my fault, but I’m the
only one who’s capable of looking after these people.
Someone has to be responsible, and I guess I’m it.

But in the light of what happened next, such
assumption of responsibility rang hollowly in her mind,
further compounding her self-imposed guilt.