“Is that the Maggie’s Pride I hear?” Sam’s voice came over the internal com, his face appearing alongside the older woman on the main screen.

“Grandma, is that the doctor from the station on the line? Let me speak to- great bloody gods, Walker are you okay?”

I already knew that I was covered in congealing zombie blood, pretty much everywhere. The revelation was that other people could now see it.

“This is not my blood, Maggie’s Pride. The other voice you may have heard is the engineer that I spoke to you about last time.”

A young woman had replaced the older one in the video pickup. I could see the family resemblance. Auburn hair framed a heart shaped face, a button nose and full, dark red lips. Her eyes were a soft brown and looked through the video with concern etched across her face.

“Hiya. PO3 Samuel Gunzmann, at your service young miss.”

“Good to meet you, Petty Officer. What’s your status on the- Hog Mauler was it?”

“Startup sequence, working up from full shutdown. Preliminary estimate of another thirty-six hours. Can I get your course information so we can work up an intercept?”

“Sending course datastream now.”

A dizzying array of numbers scrolled across the screen. Sam grunted as he copied the data to a handheld pad.

“Looks like the timing is going to be tight on our end. I don’t think we’ll be able to stop the Pride, but we can get you all off.”

Sam had an honest face. The doubt that he was trying to conceal was obvious to me- and to Maggie’s Pride, as well.

“Give it to us straight. Just how fucked are we this time? What numbers are you using on your end?”

A moment later, Sam’s profile was hidden under a veritable wall of text. I recognized the name of our ship and little else.

“That doesn’t give us much wriggle room. Or options if anything goes wrong on the way. Best case scenario there’s a three minute window for you to link up with us and we’d have to transfer over without docking, using space suits.

“And that’s the best case. If it takes longer for you to get moving, if you have to divert around any debris around Walker, if the ship’s diagnostic is off in any way, we could be drifting for a long, long time.”

Every face on the screen had frustration written across it as they looked over the data. Sam glanced down at the engineering console from time to time, keeping the cycle moving with brisk efficiency.

“Are there any variables that could be changed in our favor?”

“Well, we could go faster if we had more fuel. We’ve got to run with the engines we have, so that’s constant. There’s not much on the ship that we could drop to lighten our load- looks like the Mauler was pretty empty by the time the collapse hit.”

“On our end, we could drop our cargo. It wouldn’t make us any slower, but it would make the Pride easier to slow down, fuel wise.” The auburn haired woman looked reluctant to mention giving up their ice chunk.

“Throw away our ice? Honey, nobody would ever hire us again if we did that.” The older woman scolded. “Not just because we abandoned it. That vector goes through inhabited space. It would be a navigational hazard.”

“We would be a navigational hazard otherwise,” the younger woman countered.

“Doesn’t change the fact that we should at least try to keep it. Who knows? Maybe Walker could use it. Do they have anything to trade?”

“We have a space station full of zombies,” I replied.

“You have a space station jam packed with supplies and goodies,” Sam retorted. “There are warehouses full of equipment, stores, consumables, spare parts, and more. Raw materials. Factories that have stood idle for almost a decade, but can be restarted.

“The zombies are a problem, yeah. But look at what you’ve done so far. Headquarters and Security are relatively safe. If we can seal off the elevators, people can live there. There’s got to be a way to deal with the hordes- we cleared this ship, didn’t we?”

“Who’s that on the com, Granny Warren?” A child wandered into the video pickup, staring at us in wonder and interest. “Did they actually fight the zombies?”

“Those are the people coming that are going to help us. Right now, we’re trying to figure out how to meet up. Why don’t you run along and keep your sister out of trouble for now? Unless you want me to add this course problem to your math homework...”

The threat seemed to work as the child gasped in alarm before scampering away.

“Is that an old HZ551? Looks like somebody kept it in good shape, too.” An old man’s voice came through the com before his face joined the two women on the screen. He had the kind of weathered look that could be anywhere between forty and a hundred, with salt and pepper hair and a short beard.

“You’re using the data direct from the manual, aren’t you son?” the man asked kindly.

“Of course. We don’t want to risk breaking down en route.”

“And that’s a mighty fine sentiment, mighty fine indeed. What would you say if I told you that I could cut that time by at least a third-” Sam’s face clouded. “Without compromising safety standards a whit?”

“I would say you’re full of it. Sir. Respectfully.” The old man guffawed. After a moment of laughter, he continued.

“Respectfully, eh?” He chuckled. “Well now, I’ll grant you that it could’ve been said worse. Lord knows I’ve heard and said worse over the years. What stage are you at in the wakeup cycle?”

“Step 33, plasma priming,” my companion responded with a guarded expression. The old man nodded.

“That’s good, leave that one alone. Now your next two steps are part of the air mix and algae prep, right?”

“Yeah...”

“Is there a reason you can’t do that while you’re underway? You only have a handful of people. They’re not going to overwhelm the backup system in the handful of days you’ll be sailing. Running the air mix and algae prep in the wakeup cycle takes two hours, minimum.

“Skip that step and you’ve got yourself another couple of hours to work with. Sound good?”

“It does. But what about-”

The two men kept arguing back and forth, the conversation steadily growing more and more technical. I managed to follow the first part of the discussion. At least, it seemed to be fairly straightforward.

The younger woman and I shared a look as the other two got lost in their own little world. She rolled her eyes with a grin.

“I’m going to clean up a bit. Drying zombie blood is not a pleasant smell,” I said, getting up.

“I imagine so. Talk to you later, Doctor.”

There were showers in the cabins closest to the bridge, so I picked one at random and headed in. The room was one of the messy ones. Dirty clothes littered the floor and one of the lockers stood open. The bunk was unmade and the long decayed remains of someone’s dinner sat on the desk.

The shower stall at least was clean. I removed the Wampus Cat from my hair. She was still busily worrying away at the bottle, but looked at me with what appeared to be suspicion on her tiny feline face.

“I need to take a shower. It will be wet in there.”

The Wampus Cat growled, gripping my hand with four paws while the other two held the bottle.

“Suit yourself,” I said, turning on the water. Thankfully, it was warm. It looked like the wake up cycle had proceeded to the point that heating the ship’s water was a thing now.

The bandages on my face came off easily enough. My nanite stitching kept the wounds together, but they were only partially sealed. The left half of my face now had an ugly red scar that ran down my forehead and into the nascent beard that it looked like I was growing.

The gouges in my cheek were partially hidden by that beard. I decided to trim it and leave it for now.

I looked around for the clothing refresher for a moment before discovering it in a nook behind the desk. It was already full of dirty clothes. I added my filthy ones and turned the machine on. The panel notified me that due to heavy soiling, the process would take longer to complete.

Of course it would.

But now, for the first time in days, I could actually take a proper shower. The water was pleasantly hot by the time I got in.

Since nothing was trying to kill me right then- and it would have to make it through two doors in order to reach me if there was a threat out there that had been missed- I took the time to fix my HUD again while I scrubbed.

The water going down the drain had pink and brown in it as the blood and filth left my body behind. Surprisingly, the Wampus Cat seemed to enjoy the water. She scampered about, splashing and pouncing, rolling and then getting up to do it all over again.

I scrubbed some shampoo into her fur as well. With all the gore that had been flying around it I thought it was probably a good idea. She treated this like a game as well, nipping at my fingers as I worked the lather in.

Sam and the old guy seemed to have the process of waking the ship under control. So I spent a long time in the shower, soaping up twice and just letting the heat of the water relax my sore muscles.

The clothing refresher was still working by the time I finally finished up, clean and trim at last. I raided the unknown crewman’s locker instead of waiting around naked. Fortunately, the clothes mostly fit. The shirt was a bit tight through the chest, but it was passable for now.

I returned to the bridge to find Doctor Delveccio sitting in the captains chair, telling a story to two children on one screen. It looked like Sam and the old guy were still working on the other.

“-and then out of nowhere he comes, grabbing the giant in an arm bar! He puts his metal boot right on the things face and starts to burn it up from the inside with his super nanite powers!”

The two children looked on with awed expressions, hanging on every word. In the background I could see the auburn haired woman speaking to another man with a sour look on his face. The two walked off screen, still talking.

“But while the hero scientist was battling the giant, the wicked zombies would try to eat his face. Sam and I shot ‘em, pow! Right in the head. A whole dozen of them attacked at once, but Sam’s a crack shot with the combat suit and I’m no slouch with my pistol. We wasted ‘em, and before you knew it, the big zombie burned right up!”

The story my companion was telling sounded suspiciously familiar. The two excited children babbled excited questions back at her.

“What happened next Doctor Del?”

“Can we get super nanite powers too?”

“Where did the giant zombies come from? I bet they’re mutant monsters created by the evil genius that made the zombie plague so his robot army could take over the whole system!”

“Mutant monsters and robot armies aren’t real Kyle. Doctor Del’s story is totally real, so it’s better!”

“Well next we-” Doctor Delveccio flinched and her ears wilted as I coughed lightly to let her know I was there. “Oh hey, Doc Z. Um. Have you been here the whole time?”

“Not long. I thought you were sleeping. You looked tired.”

“Catnapping,” she grinned, flicking her ears forward proudly. It seemed like she had lost at least some of the subtle tension that I had seen weighing on her since we’d first met. “Honestly, I wasn’t that tired. Sam woke me up a little while ago, bickering with the com. He didn’t mean to, but I got to meet these two little monsters.”

She indicated the children on the screen, who smiled back and waved at us with exaggerated motion.

“Any change in the schedule?”

“Yeah. Magnus- that’s the other guy’s name- he’s been working with Sam to shorten up our timetable. We should be ready to set out in just a few hours or so by the sound of things.

“Anyway, you look better cleaned up. Those scars look to be healing up nicely. No headache, dizziness, or other symptoms?”

“Just sore and bruised is all. Did your trip up from engineering go okay? I am fairly certain that there are no zombies left on board, but I haven’t examined the consoles or anything else up here for rogue nanites yet.”

After discovering rogue colonies not once but twice inside ship’s engine rooms I was not taking anything else for granted.

“Rogue nanites- that’s what you were doing with the sparkly lights after we were ambushed in the engine room?”

I caught sight of the two children looking at us with open mouths. They started whispering to each other while we spoke.

“Yes. The process is stamina intensive, so I was waiting until we could be relatively sure we were safe to attempt it.”

“Wait a moment. Rogue nanites? Is this related to the research you spoke of before, back when we first talked?”

The young woman from before returned, looking back and forth between Doctor Delveccio and me with an unreadable expression.

“It is. Twice now I have encountered a rogue colony of nanites living aboard ships. I’ve found them around existing power sources- the reactor, specifically, where they create power nodes inside the system architecture.”

“Do you mind if I loop this conversation in with the military? There was a scientist that contacted us after you left to go and get your friends. This sounds like something that should be shared with everyone. We still don’t know much at all about the virus.”

I nodded. Doctor Delveccio held her finger up to her lips, shushing the two children as they tried to bust out with questions. The two mimed zipping their lips closed, turning a key in an invisible lock in front of their faces- and then swallowing the key, giggling.

“I do not mind at all. I’ve been studying the virus ever since the beginning. It has only been recently that I’ve been able to do more hands on research, as it were.”

“One moment.” She tapped away at a console off screen.

“Pegasus Two, Maggie’s Pride. I am in contact with the scientist from Walker, Doctor Zolnikov once again. Do you read, Pegasus Two? I repeat, I have the scientist from Walker on the line.”

Silence answered us for long moments.

“Maggie’s Pride, this is Pegasus Two. Do you have a contact for this information?”

“Pegasus Two, Maggie’s Pride. Doctor Jensen, I believe it was.”

“Maggie’s Pride, Pegasus Two. Wait one.”

The ship shuddered for a moment. I looked over to the screen where Sam and Magnus had been talking. They both looked pleased. Hopefully that meant the tremor was intentional.

“Eh, Maggie’s Pride? This is Doctor Jensen. Did you get a hold of that survivor for me? The one that was talking about nanites and the infected?”

The voice on the com sounded just like one would expect an old scientist to sound. Slightly distracted, thin, reedy sounding voice. If there was a verbal equivalent of wrinkles and liver spots, it would be that voice.

“I did, Doctor Jensen. This is Doctor Zolnikov, along with Doctor Delveccio. They managed to survive the collapse aboard Walker somehow.”

“Doctor. Doctor.”

“Doctor.”

Though we could not see this other fellow over the com, we both nodded respectfully, as one does when meeting another person with the same title in a different field.

“You claim to have some knowledge of the virus that all the surviving scientists and researchers have somehow missed, eh? Well? Come on now, let’s hear your supposed evidence.”

Doctor Delveccio and I looked at each other. The hostile response was not one that I had expected.