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The crew, including Alex, gathered in the airlock with the Captain’s body wrapped in his blanket. While Alex did not require a helmet, oxygen, or even a tether, the others donned the necessary equipment to make certain they could breathe and remain secured inside the airlock once the doors were opened. But first, a prayer.
Lieutenant Melissa Fitch cleared her throat, her eyes locked on the shrouded body lying face up on the hard airlock floor.
She said, “Dear Lord if you do exist, take care of this man’s soul. He was as good a flight Captain as there ever was, and we will miss him with all our hearts. Amen.”
“Amen,” Jack repeated.
“Amen,” said Casey.
“Amen,” said Alex.
Melissa punched the button that opened the airlock. Jack bent at the waist and took hold of Captain Bates’s shoulders while Casey took the feet.
“On three,” Jack said.
“Make sure he’s free of the tethers,” Melissa warned.
“He’s free,” Casey said.
“Three,” Jack said.
They heaved the body out into space. For a time, they watch it float away, spinning like the second hand on a clock as it became smaller and smaller and smaller until the Captain was swallowed up by the galaxy. In some ways, it was a fitting burial for a spaceman like Bates.
“Very fitting,” Casey whispered silently to himself.
Back inside the spaceship, Lt. Fitch and the other three gathered inside the social area.
“Everyone arms themselves until we find this damn moth bird monster or whatever the fuck it is,” she said. “I’m going to start in the cockpit. Jack, you search the physical plant. Casey and Alex, you take the galley and the corridors. If you find it, shoot it. Understand? Everyone keeps their radios close.”
“Copy that, Lieutenant,” Jack said.
“Understood,” Casey said.
“We have a seventy-five percent chance of finding the monster,” Alex said. “It’s also possible he has already grown to his full height of eight feet.”
“How do you know that, Alex?” Melissa inquired.
“From data gathered by the ill-fated Expendable mission,” the robot said.
“Makes sense,” Casey said.
Heading into the west corridor, Melissa unlocked a wall panel. Stored inside it were several plasma pistols and three plasma rifles. She took a pistol, a holster, and one of the rifles. She also grabbed hold of a box of plasma rounds. She set everything on the table.
“Jack,” she said, “help yourself. Case, if you want a rifle, grab one while it’s hot.”
The two men grabbed the weaponry and ammo they needed. When the crew was locked and loaded, Melissa went to the elevator.
“Good luck everyone,” she said as she punched the elevator call button.
“Hey, babe,” Casey said, throwing protocol to the wind.
“Yeah, Case?” she said.
“Be careful up there,” he said.
In the back and front of his mind, he thought about the video recorded by the captain of The Expendable. He saw the mutilated bodies of the crew, and he saw the horrified, tight-skinned expression on the Captain’s face as the poor bastard issued his final words of warning. He wondered if his crew would get through the morning without someone else dying. No, scratch that. He wondered if they would live to see another day.
The elevator door opened, and Melissa stepped inside.
“I’ll monitor your progress, Lt. Fitch,” Alex said.
“Thank you, Alex,” she said as the door closed.
Casey’s mouth went dry and that pit in his stomach grew ever larger and more painful.
“You want to work together, Alex?” he said. “Or separate.”
“I think it’s a good idea we work together while I film you,” the robot said. “My sensors can still pick up any suspicious activity occurring on any part of the craft.”
“Even in the nooks and crannies?”
“Even in the nooks and crannies,” Alex said.
Gripping his plasma rifle in both hands, Casey cocked a round into the chamber and proceeded to slowly walk along the Southern corridor, past the crew cabins and bunks, and into the depths of the ship. He was of the understanding that Alex wasn’t picking anything up with his electronic sensors, but that didn’t mean Casey’s gut wasn’t sensing the presence of something horrible. It was just a matter of time until he came face to face with his own mortality.