Entity [ONC 2024]

12

She heard the compressed gasses expel the contents of the ampule into Finnegan's hand, but she could already feel his breath upon her neck. It felt like writhing, slime-covered snakes, or worms, playing across her skin. It hadn't worked. It hadn't worked! The only comfort she could take came from the knowledge that her final act was one of defiance. That she had, at least, tried.

Finnegan's grip slipped away from the shoulders of her coveralls and, in that instant, she managed to grip the mesh grille of the flooring and pull herself out from under the weightless body of the man that was once the ship's Science officer. Moans escaped her lips as she dragged herself along, feet kicking to catch up until she pressed her back against another, shuddering piece of equipment.

She thrust out the gas syringe, holding it like a weapon before her, her entire arm shaking as she stared back toward Finnegan. He floated there, arms limp, head drooped as another gout of steam exploded from the valve above him. Cooled particles gathered around Finnegan and Porter started to think she could relax. Nothing human could remain awake with that much sedative in them.

When he didn't move, Porter allowed a moan of happiness to escape her lips, her hand rising to cover her mouth as she allowed the tears to come without resistance. This time, those tears were of joy, of relief, but she knew it wasn't over yet. The captain still remained active and she needed to move Finnegan to the medical section. To secure him and then ...

Finnegan jerked. His head rose and he bared his teeth like some feral creature. His legs moved, pressing against something behind him, about to pounce forward. Porter shrieked, her hand scrabbling against her top pocket, desperate to find another ampule. It was all she had. But she hadn't ejected the empty ampule. As Finnegan pushed himself toward her, Porter cursed her shaking hands as she tried and failed to switch the drug containers.

He came so fast, but it also seemed to take an age for him to float the distance between them, while Porter slapped and battered at the gas syringe, tossing the empty cartridge aside, fighting to place the new one in a slot that now seemed designed so awkward, she wondered how she had ever managed to use them. And Finnegan fell upon her, a silent roar twisting his features, saliva dripping from drawn lips.

Porter pressed the syringe against the first thing she could and pushed. The surface of Finnegan's eye depressed, held and stretched, and then punctured as the nozzle pushed against it. A sickening spurt of liquid escaped past the nozzle and Porter pressed the button, releasing the second dose directly into Finnegan's eye.

Now he screamed. His hands reaching up, not to his eye, but to the back of his neck. He arched his back, an inhuman noise, a wail, a shriek, emanated from his throat and then, once again, Finnegan became limp. This time, Porter didn't hesitate to switch out the sedative cartridges. With the syringe pressed against Finnegan's throat, she checked his pulse.

He still lived! Even with all that sedative inside him, he still, somehow, lived. Not only did he live, but his pulse remained strong and steady. Fast, but in a steady, unrelenting rhythm. At this rate, the sedative wouldn't last long before Finnegan revived once again.

Porter pressed the syringe nozzle even harder against his throat, her thumb hovering over the release button. She could do it. Dose him with cartridge after cartridge until that strong pulse came to a stop. He had attacked her, tried to defile her in the most undignified, inhumane manner. But it was Finnegan. Wasn't it? Whatever had infected him, that appeared to control him, it was still Finnegan that she saw. That mousy, withdrawn, often caustic man that preferred his own company to mixing with the rest of the crew. She understood that. She did that too.

She couldn't kill him. That wasn't her. Wasn't what she did. She had chosen a career in medicine precisely because she wanted to help people, to heal people, to save people. She could do that here. She could. If she could get Finnegan back to the medical section, strap him to a bed, she could try to analyse what had happened. She could cure him. She could bring him back, and the captain. If she hadn't forgotten to bring along restraints. She couldn't move him if he wasn't restrained. Not with how fast she suspected he would recover.

At the moment, she had to prioritise. Like the tears that still created beads upon her eyelashes. She had no time for that. No time to collapse into a self-indulgent, quivering ball of fear. No matter how much she wanted to. Once again, she cursed her lack of knowledge about the engineering section. Her hand swiped away the tears, running under her nose, across her mouth, and then wiped down the leg of her coveralls.

Every sound she heard made her jump. Every movement had her raising the syringe, ready to give Finnegan another shot. She couldn't continue like this. Somehow, she had to get Finnegan out of the picture. If she remembered rightly, there should be a side compartment, somewhere near. A place she could put Finnegan and lock the door. Then she could see about taking the engines offline.

"GAIA, can you control the ship?" With one hand holding onto the leg of Finnegan's coveralls, the other pressing the syringe against his skin, Porter struggled to move his limp form. "Can you, I don't know, take the engines offline for, maybe, diagnostics?"

"Working." The AI took far too long to answer, but the breathy voice returned, sounding like the voice had a smile to virtual lips. "I'm afraid not. All ships navigation controls and engineering systems are now routed through the computer section. All those privileges are now revoked."

"Revoked?" Porter looked both ways at a junction, still no closer to knowing where to go. "By whom?"

"By the captain." The AI's pleasant tone contrasted with Porter's spat curse. "I am still able to make the environment more comfortable. Would you like to change the temperature? Do you require more oxygen?"

"No, thanks. I'm fine." Even saying that word sent a shudder through her. "Stand by, GAIA."

Porter had lowered her voice. A noise had come from somewhere to the left and it wasn't the kind of noise she had started to become accustomed to down here in the labyrinthine engineering section. Something scuffed against something else. Porter chewed upon her lip as she tried to decide which was the most immediate problem.

She could abandon Finnegan, for a moment, while she hid and waited for whoever came her way, but he could revive at any moment and she knew for certain she couldn't fight off both Finnegan and the captain. If she didn't hide and try to catch the person coming off-guard, she could end up facing them both anyway.

The only thing she could do was the thing she didn't want to do. She could kill Finnegan. She had enough sedative ampules to do it, no matter how strong the entity had made him. She could do it. Once again, her thumb hovered over the button. She could do it. She could.

"Porter? What the hell are you doing with Finnegan?" The form of Ndara appeared out of the gloom, his forehead furrowed as he looked behind her to Finnegan's body, then up to her face, tilting his head. "Is that blood?"

Porter had never felt so glad to see that man.