The same girl from earlier answered the comm. “This is the Governor’s office.”

  “This is Captain Grant. I want Nash on the comm right now.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain, Governor—”

  “Tell him I have an override code too, and if he doesn’t get his ass on the comm right now, I’m going to send half a dozen heavily armed Marines into Metro to execute him. And tell him that if he thinks I’m joking to go ahead and try me, because I’m not in the mood for his games.”

  “Y-yes, Captain,” the girl stammered. “One moment.”

  Tyson counted four seconds before Nash came on the line. If he wasn’t listening in already, he was close by.

  “This is Nash. How can I help you, Captain?”

  “I contacted you to formally inform you, pursuant to code sixteen four of the generation ship operations protocol that I’m initiating the permanent closure of Metro effective immediately.”

  “What?” Nash said. “You can’t do that. You still have crew out there who were supposed to matriculate, and we’re nowhere near pluto.”

  “Read the protocols, Governor,” Tyson replied. “It’s my decision to make. Unfortunately, it looks like we’ll have enough excess stasis pods to offer the non matriculated crew passage to Avalon.”

  A tense silence fell between them. “Captain, what the hell is going on out there?” Nash asked, the fear evident in his voice.

  “Nothing we can’t handle.”

  “Bullshit. I’m looking at code sixteen-four. It says you have authority to seal Metro without my agreement only in the event of a potentially catastrophic emergency. I need to know what’s happening out there. I have a right to know.”

  “Governor, what you need to do is focus on taking care of your people,” Tyson said. “And let me focus on taking care of the ship. We have a window of opportunity to resolve the emergency quickly, but it will slip away if we waste time negotiating every decision. I’m initiating the permanent seal.”

  “I have an override, Captain.”

  “I know you do. But unless you want to be responsible for the potential loss of the entire colony, you’d do best not to use it.”

  “How will we know when the problem is resolved? Once the seals are permanently locked, they can only be opened from inside.”

  “You’ll know because you’ll still be alive in a day or two,” Tyson said. “Safe and sound in your cocoon. This isn’t how either of us planned for things to go, but this is how it has to be.”

  “This is bullshit, is what it is!” Nash shouted. “We don’t like one another, that much is clear. You don’t want me to get what I want because I’m a threat to you, and what better way than to eliminate the threat than to claim some made up emergency and take the power out of my hands. I think you’re full of it, Captain. I don’t believe there’s any real problem.”

  Tyson clenched his jaw. Nash just had to be a mistrustful idiot until the end. “Commander, can you bring up Guardian West’s helmet feed?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The feed appeared on the main display. West was approaching the galley, and the three dead crew members in the corridor.

  “Commander, can you pass that feed to the Governor’s terminal?”

  “Until the lockdown is activated, sir.”

  “Do it. Nash, I’m sending a feed to—”

  “I heard you,” Nash said. “I don’t…oh my...” his voice trailed off. “What’s happening out there, Grant?” West turned the corner into the galley, the view becoming more violent. “Turn it off. Just turn it off.”

  “Commander,” Tyson said. She disconnected the feed. “An alien has breached Pioneer. It’s able to seize control of people and make them carry out its will. It’s currently got Guardian Tran. The other Guardians will find it and neutralize it, but we can’t risk that it might get into Metro. If it does, it could seize just about anyone and we’ll never track it down.”

  “I…I understand,” Nash said, voice fearful. “Lock us down. Lock us down now!”

  “Thank you, Governor. I agree, we don’t get along, but that attitude is coming solely from you. I hold no ill will toward you, and I wish you and the people of Metro only the best from this moment on.”

  “I suppose I’ve been a bit difficult to deal with,” Nash said. “I resented the hell out of you for the future I don’t have. Seeing that feed. I don’t resent you now, Captain. Good luck to you as well. What happens if you can’t catch that thing?”

  “Worst case? Pioneer will be set to automatic with guidance to Avalon. We’ll set the computer to vent the ship outside Metro on arrival and hope we can both burn any remnants of it to dust during entry into Avalon’s atmosphere, and that the city will survive the landing.”

  “That’s not an inspiring answer. You’re telling me I won’t know if you succeeded or failed until we arrive two hundred years from now?”

  “The possibility exists. But you’ll never know personally. We’ll both be long dead by then.”

  “I should have stayed on Earth.”

  “I won’t disagree with you on that. Goodbye, Governor.”

  Nash’s response was to disconnect the comm.

  “Commander, initiate the lockdown.”

  “Aye aye, Captain. Lockdown initiated.”

  All of the adjustments were invisible to the naked eye, most of them taking place within the software that managed Pioneer. It ran through special subroutines that isolated the Metro mainframe from the primary computer, revoked all security access through the designated blast doors for all but Nash’s code, separated Metro comms and moved reinforced bolts into place to ensure everything stayed shut. The whole thing took less than a minute, with little fanfare or drama.

  “Lockdown complete, sir,” Siraj said.

  “Thank you, Commander. Now, let’s see if we can kill that bastard before it kills us. And have the Guardians send Alesso down to Research. I want to know what happened to my best Marine.”

  55

  Cross

  Pioneer. Spacesuit Compartment. 11.13.2052. 0020 hours.

  Joseph’s eyes fluttered open, everything looking a little hazy. At first, he saw three hatches slightly off-kilter from one another and colored in reddish-orange hues. The sight confused him, and he struggled to remember where he was as his heart started pounding again.

  What happened?

  The last thing he remembered was seeing the small blob of alien goop on Doctor Rose’s thigh. It was all as fuzzy as his vision after that.

  He groaned as he came up to his knees. The universe spun a little faster, his stomach complaining about the quick movement. Concussion? He reached to the back of his head, finding a lump. He shifted his gaze slightly, finding the helmet nearby, a small mark of blood on it.

  “Son of a bitch,” he growled softly. She had hit him with her helmet. Cold-cocked him and stole the alien. Why? Where did she think she could go? She couldn’t hide from him. He knew where she lived.

  He fought his dizziness, pushing himself up and back, his butt landing on the bench. He reached up and rubbed his throbbing head. There was no reason to hurry after her. He would catch up in good time, armed with a plasma rifle when he did. He would enjoy burning that little black blob back to whatever hell it came from.

  He had no idea how long he was unconscious. Probably longer than he would have if he wasn’t already running on fumes. He groaned again as he pushed himself to his feet. He needed to check in with the Guardians, and with Grant. He needed to tell the Captain what Rose had done.

  But should he? Grant would come down hard on her. Harder than before. He would probably take the scientists out of their module and stick them in Metro, shutting down their whole lab. He wasn’t sure that was the best idea. Rose and her team were still doing work that could help them later. She wasn’t wrong regarding the benefits of learning more about the aliens. It was just her method of getting her way that sucked.

  He decided he would handle it on his own for now. Sure, Grant might wonder where he was and why it was all taking so long, but he could make an excuse for that. Of course, if the alien got loose again and escaped from the lab, it would be both his and Rose’s ass. Should he really let her get away with sucker-punching him?

  He stumbled for the door, head throbbing harder with each step. He would go back to the Guardian module, grab some aspirin and a plasma rifle, and then head over to the lab. Rose would let him in, they could have a chat, and then he would kill the trife and fry the little booger. She better have its molecular structure mapped by then.

  The hatch slid aside in front of him. He nearly tripped over the small lip at the bottom, stepping out into the passageway. The lights were dimmer than he remembered, but that could be a side effect of the lump on his skull.

  He started down the corridor, blinking to clear his vision. He tried to remember the last time someone had hit him that hard. Basic, maybe. He had taken some good lumps there and given plenty back.

  He chided himself as he walked for not bringing his comm badge. He had left it pinned to his utilities, thinking he would come back into the ship from the same airlock and change in the same locker room. If he had it now, he could ask Wall for a ride, or at least get one of the Guardians to bring him the rifle and aspirin to save some time.

  He reached an intersection, pausing there. He looked to his right, noticing a small light chest-high at the end of the corridor, possibly headed his way. A Dragonfly? He looked to his left. A silhouette in the distance, in the shape of someone in combat armor, carrying a rifle. Why were the Guardians doing manual patrols when they had the drones? In this case, he was glad they were.

  “Hey!” he said, raising his arm to wave. He couldn’t make out which Guardian was down the passageway.

  Whoever it was, they responded to him by bringing up their rifle and opening fire.

  “Shit!” Joseph said, diving back around the corner as the bullets pinged off the nearby bulkheads, barely missing his face. He felt at least one slug hit his body armor near his thigh, leaving a painful sting, before he ducked completely out of the line of fire.

  He crouched at the bulkhead near the corner, careful to stay out of sight. What the hell was that?

  The gunfire continued, echoing in the corridor for a few more seconds. Joseph recognized the change in sound when one of the rounds hit the Dragonfly, shattering it.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Joseph shouted. “It’s Cross, damn it.”

  He leaned his head out. The man was coming down the passageway at a run. He squinted in an effort to identify who it was.

  “Tran? Is that you?” he said, again drawing gunfire. Certain it was Tran shooting at him, he ducked his head back as the rounds hit the bulkhead. Why was the Guardian trying to kill him?

  With nowhere to hide except back where he had started, he got up and stumbled back down the long, straight corridor, sprinting as fast as he could to get to his rifle. Stupid, dizzy, idiot. He had left it there.

  He made it to the door just as Tran turned the corner. Another round struck him, the hit painful but not penetrating his armor. He shoved through the door, dropping to the deck and reaching for the rifle on the floor. He scooped it up, pivoting on his knees to rest it on the bench.

  Tran appeared in the doorway. Joseph didn’t waste time asking questions. He squeezed the trigger, peppering the other Guardian, the high-penetration rounds punching into his armor and breaking through both layers. Tran stumbled backward, shuddering from the hits. He fell into the bulkhead and collapsed.

  “Shit,” Joseph said, standing up, keeping his weapon pointed at the downed Guardian. He took a few steps forward. “Tran?”

  No response. No motion. He had killed one of his own. One of his own was trying to kill him. It didn’t make any sense.

  He heard boots clicking on the metal, coming their way. He grabbed Tran’s rifle before ducking back into the compartment and closing the door, pressing his ear against it to listen.

  The newcomer slowed to a walk when it neared, and then stopped completely when they got close to Tran. Joseph stepped back from the door, pointing his rifle at it.

  “Arctic, is that you? It’s Bourne.”

  “Bourne?” Joseph shouted back. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Everything is going to shit, that’s what. Or it was. It looks like you took care of the problem.”

  Joseph moved to the hatch, opening it with the rifle pointed right at Bourne’s chest. “What problem?”

  Bourne smiled. “You seem to already know what problem. Captain Grant thinks the alien made it onto the ship. That it can take control of people, like Tran. Make them do what it wants.”

  “How?”

  “How should I know, Prime? I just work here.” He smiled. “Anyway, it’s not a problem because it looks like you killed it.” He turned to motion to Tran.

  Joseph saw the oily black matter before Bourne did, the blob springing at the Guardian on small tentacles, launching toward his helmeted head. He shoved Bourne aside, the alien missing him and hitting the door frame instead, clinging there for a moment. Then it sprung at Joseph, who batted it away with his rifle, knocking it back out into the corridor. He swung his rifle toward it and opened fire, bullets digging into the metal as it scurried out of the way, rushing down the passageway.

  He stopped shooting, bringing the rifle up higher and sighting down the barrel. He was an expert marksman. He didn’t need to shoot wildly like that. He took his time, tracking the blob as it ran. One round was all it would take to obliterate the little bastard.

  He lined up the shot, finger sitting on the trigger. He was a split-second from shooting when the blob reached an air vent and disappeared inside it.

  “Shit!” Joseph cursed, running down the passageway. He looked at the vent, but it was too dark to see anything. He backed up, worried it might jump out at him.

  “What was that?” Bourne asked.

  “Confirmation that the alien got on board,” Joseph replied, the throbbing in his head increasing in intensity. “We need to seal off Metro before it can get inside.”

  “Already done,” Bourne said. “That was the first thing Grant did.”

  “Smart man. Who’s running the CIC?”

  “Hoffman.”

  “Contact Hoffman, tell her we’re on our way. Have her get Okoye down too, I need something for my head.”

  “Your head? What happened?”

  “Long story. No time.”

  “What about the alien?”

  “We can’t reach it in there, but I have a feeling it either can’t or won’t stay hidden for long. We need to wait for it to come out again.”

  “Are you kidding? It can get almost anywhere in the ship from there. Including the bridge.”

  Joseph winced. “Tell Hoffman to send Madani up to the bridge. And let Captain Grant know she’s coming. If we can seal the air vents on the bridge, even better.”

  “Copy that, Prime.”

  “And tell her to make sure everyone has a plasma rifle. It’s the only thing that’ll kill them clean.”

  “Wilco, Prime.”

  “Come on, talk while we walk.”

  They headed down the corridor, Bourne relaying the messages to Hoffman in the CIC. Joseph’s thoughts turned to Doctor Rose and the alien she had captured. The one that came out of Tran was too large to be the same xeno, and that concerned him. There was no telling how many of the small blobs had gotten onto the ship. And there was no way to know when they had located and destroyed them all.

  Or was there?

  “Bourne, new plan,” he said. “You head back to the CIC. Tell Hoffman to have West meet me outside the Research module with a plasma rifle.”

  “What about your head?”

  Joseph shook his head back and forth and then looked at Bourne. “There are only two of you right now, so it’s getting better. Anything else will have to wait.”

  56

  Cross

  Pioneer. Research Module. 11.13.2052. 0045 hours.

  Joseph stopped in front of the door to the Research module. He swiped his wrist across the security panel, wondering if maybe Doctor Rose had decided to follow Grant’s directives without his presence.

  She hadn’t.

  The panel flashed red. Joseph looked up at the camera over the door. “Doctor Rose, I need you to open the door.” He spoke as calmly as he could. The situation was bad, and he knew it would get worse before it got better. “Whatever your plan for the alien is, I don’t care. I’m not here about that. We have a problem. More than one of them got into the ship, and it’s killing people.”

  He waited a few seconds. The door slid open, Pietro behind it. “Prime Cross. What is this that you’re saying?”

  “I need to talk to your boss,” Joseph said. “It’s an emergency.”

  “This way,” he said, waving him in.

  “Hey, Prime! Wait for me!” West shouted from down the corridor. She was coming toward him at a run, her augmented legs carrying her forward in a hurry.

  She slid to a stop beside him, smiling beneath her helmet as she held out a plasma rifle and a comm badge. He took both, sticking the comm badge to his bodysuit while smiling back at her. “Good to see you, Keesh.”

  “You too. I thought...” She shrugged her shoulders. “I was worried when we couldn’t get hold of you.”

  “Sorry about that. We’ll talk about it later.” He turned back to Pietro. “Let’s go, Alesso.”

  He nodded, and they followed Pietro into the lab. Rose was already up front, waiting for them. “Prime Cross, I can explain,” she said.

  “There’s no time for that,” Joseph replied. “And honestly, it turns out knocking me cold might be the best thing you could have done. Have you had a chance to study it?”

  She flinched, surprised by his statement. “Well, yes of course. I knew you would come as soon as you came to. I—”

  “Wait,” West said. “She knocked you out?”

  “With a spacesuit helmet,” Joseph said. “That’s why I was MIA.”