1n1REzE

Peter Watts 293 Blindsight
itself into space, big as a mountain range.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Theseus lurched. The lights flickered, went out, came back on
again. The turning bulkhead cuffed me from behind.
"Backups engaged," the Captain said calmly.
"Captain! Sarasti's down!" I kicked off the nearest ladder,
bumped into a grunt and headed forward after the vampire. "Bates
isn't—what do I do"
"Nav offline. Starboard afferents offline."
It wasn't even talking to me, I realized. Maybe this wasn't the
Captain at all. Maybe it was pure reflex: a dialog tree, spouting
public-service announcements. Maybe Theseus had already been
lobotomized. Maybe this was only her brain stem talking.
Darkness again. Then flickering light.
If the Captain was gone, we were screwed.
I gave Sarasti another push. The alarm bleated on. The drum
was twenty meters ahead; BioMed was just the other side of that
closed hatch. The hatch had been open before, I remembered.
Someone had shut it in the last few minutes. Fortunately Theseus
had no locks on her doors.
Unless the Gang barricaded it before they took the bridge...
"Strap in, people! We are getting out of here!"
Who in hell…
The open bridge channel. Susan James, shouting up there. Or
someone was; I couldn't quite place the voice...
Ten meters to the drum. Theseus jerked again, slowed her spin.
Stabilised.
"Somebody start the goddamned reactor! I've only got attitude
jets up here!"
"Susan Sascha" I was at the hatch. "Who is that" I pushed
passed Sarasti and reached to open it.
No answer.
Not from ConSensus, anyway. I heard a muted hum from
behind, saw the ominous shifting of shadows on the bulkhead just
a moment too late. I turned in time to see one of the grunts raise a
spiky appendage—curved like a scimitar, needle-tipped—over
Sarasti's head.