Raspberry uttered soft meeps of complaint as I pressed her gently into the bulkhead. Predictably, she pushed herself away with too much force. She went fly towards the other side of the room in an uncontrolled cartwheel. I caught her before she could impact anything.

“Let’s try that again. Less force this time.”

The little Wampus Cat went flying again. Perhaps with a touch less force this time, as I caught her sooner.

“What are you doing in here?” a voice came from the open doorway. Hank, the quieter of the two men that had joined us on Walker stood there, watching me snag the wriggling little monster once again.

“Teaching Raspberry how to move around in microgravity.”

“You know she’s still a kitten, right?”

“I do realize this, yes.” The being in question spun somewhat slower in the air this time. I put up my hand so she could land on it at the correct point in time.

“And that she’d probably be just getting her legs under her if we had gravity?”

“Indeed. All the more reason to teach her how to maneuver in micro now, rather than after she’s gotten her mobility reflexes completely trained for gravity.”

“She’s still just a kitten, though.”

That point had not escaped my notice.

“Wampus Cats are smart. Doc Z thinks that Raspberry is clever enough to figure this out with a little help,” Doctor Delveccio said from outside the office that I had appropriated for agility training.

“And he might just be right about that.”

Raspberry reoriented herself slower this time as she tried to keep an eye on where I was standing. She still over rotated and ended up getting caught on her side, rather than landing on all six paws, though.

“Really? I thought cats were, well...” Hank sounded uncertain as to how to complete the thought.

“Possessed of animal cunning rather than the ability to reason deductively?” Doctor Delveccio supplied.

“...Yeah. Something like that.”

Raspberry managed to snag my palm with a single paw before she spun too far away. I set her up again for another try.

“Wampus Cats have relatively little to do genetically speaking with felidae catus, despite their looks. Some have more genes in common with the ursus, or mellivora capensis. There were so many custom modifications during and just before the gene wars that you can never be exactly sure what you’ll get without a full genetic profile on each individual. The gene lines are largely cross-fertile, so generalizing is of even less use for these exotics than standard terrestrials.”

This time she managed to land almost perfectly. Excessive rotational momentum would have made her roll off my hand if I hadn’t steadied her at the last moment.

“Oh, um. That’s interesting Doctor Delveccio.” The young man’s ears turned red as he blushed. If I had to hazard a guess it was due to his close proximity to the silver haired catgirl. If she noticed, it was not apparent.

“I wanted to check on you and see how you were feeling after this morning’s tests.”

“Functional. The spinal tap was a bit unpleasant, but the soreness is receding. No issues with the blood draws or tissue sampling. When will you be needing me for the next round of testing?”

In the absence of modern scanning and nanite assessment techniques the Doctor and Ileane decided to go old school. The syringes and scalpels were not pleasant, but the pain was localized and rather brief in comparison to the difficulties of the previous day.

I’d woken up several times in the night, my stomach demanding more food to replace what I had expended earlier. The bone-deep ache that came from draining the giant zombie remained, though. Even now it felt like my bones were shivering ever so slightly beneath my flesh from time to time.

“No nausea? Headaches? Joint pain?”

“Just the bone discomfort that we talked about.”

“Is the frequency of the phenomena increasing or decreasing?”

“The latter, I believe. By my estimates it has been one hour and twenty-nine minutes since the last event. The previous cycle lasted seventy-three minutes and forty-one seconds.”

Hank looked back and forth between the two of us. By the look on his face, he thought at least one of us was crazy. I rather suspected that I knew which one.

“Sam asked me to tell you that the plates are ready. If you wanted to do your thing with the nanites to check around the elevators for us any time now would be good.”

Raspberry licked my hand as I scratched the spot behind her ears that she liked. I gave her another bottle to occupy the black hole that lived in her guts for a bit.

“Alright. I will be there soon. Unless there is something else pressing, Doctor...?”

“Nothing just now,” she replied with a faint smile. “Go do your thing. Lunch will be ready in an hour though, so make sure everyone else knows.”

Hank and I nodded in response. The catgirl’s cooking had won the praise of my companions, both new and old. As my situation precluded the acquisition of favorites and picky eating, I chose not to point out that I would be perfectly fine with meal bars and nutrient paste, of which we had more than a sufficiency.

The fact that I’d made that argument and lost several times before was of no bearing on my current situation, of course.

There were no rogue nanites present in the elevator controls. It had been a question before- the zombies did tend to use the elevator shaft to move around between levels. For now though, they were clear of infection.

I checked each of the cafeteria stalls after that. There was still time, and I knew Doctor Delveccio would ask. Her dissatisfaction with the cooking utensils and equipment in the tiny break room was already becoming well known. Once the elevators were sealed off, we could expect a modicum of peace.

The maintenance shaft entry was not forgotten. Vera had mined the entry quite unnecessarily heavily, in my opinion. The traps, she explained, were designed to work in layers. The outer were a few small shrapnel traps, triggered by contact not proximity. Closer in, there were tripwires that triggered larger traps that would scythe outward, hopefully discouraging any hordes that took an interest.

That was not even considering the turrets embedded in the bulkheads. Our back door was well defended by the paranoid efficiency of a novice, but obsessive, explosives enthusiast.

Lunch was fried rice with chicken, stir fry vegetables and mushrooms with scrambled eggs mixed in. Doctore Delveccio apologized for the lack of bread and fresh veggies for salads, but the others waved her words away. From the look on their faces they were enjoying the meal.

I dutifully filled my bowl twice more under the expectant glare of the catgirl cook. She seemed to think that I did not eat enough. Of the food she cooked, specifically. She still did not approve of meal bars and nutrient paste as sufficiently nutritious meals.

“Okay, so we’ve got the elevators welded shut. The foam that we brought will cut the sounds we make up here once it sets. Give it a day or two to cure properly. After that, there shouldn’t be any noise to alert a passing zombie that we’re even here.

“The food service elevator is currently on this level. We’ll have to fabricate some doors if we want to use it to travel to other levels- its completely open to the shaft when the elevator is not here. Other than that, Security is, at last, secure.”

Cheers broke out at Sam’s pronouncement. I’d known people were worried, but hadn’t realized quite how much they were looking forward to that.

“We still need to maintain the substations on this level, but they’re in good shape compared to almost any other level except Level 1. Headquarters is still in relatively top shape.”

“The coms and sensors are still down in the HQ, though,” I reminded him.

“And that will be our next project after we take care of the Level 5 substations,” he responded.

“Do we want to secure the Laboratory sector like we did here?”

Thoughtful glances met Vera’s question. The original plan had been to blast our way in, cutting through the horde and start working on the power systems and infrastructure.

“That’s an interesting question,” Doctor Delveccio replied. “What would that involve?”

All eyes turned to me. I hadn’t expected to be drawn into this part of the conversation, and had been feeding Raspberry a new bottle. She would need to start on solid food soon, according to the treatment plan that our resident exotic animals vet had recommended.

“Level 5 is not like the rest of the station,” I began, trying to collect my thoughts.

“It is split between the laboratories and the engineering offices. The lab section is the larger of the two, taking up nearly sixty percent of the available space. That part of the station should be clear.

“The horde was concentrated around the cafeteria, as most do on Walker. There will still be others wandering in the engineering office part of the level. Those might be the greater potential danger. If they begin to howl, it could reach into the maintenance shaft. There is a rather large horde that tends to sleep there, down near the entrance to the docks.”

“There are two entrances that we can use to get to Level 5. The food service elevator, and through the maintenance shaft. Z, I know you don’t want us going there, but it’s an option,” Sam said with a look.

I nodded and motioned for him to continue.

“Okay, so if we go down the food service elevator, we’re in immediate combat. The horde likes to sleep packed right up against the stalls, lots of entrances, lots of openings to monitor. If we go the maintenance shaft, we might hit zombies on the way to the central cafeteria, we might not. Possibility we get pincered when a zombie howls and draws the maintenance shaft horde up with us.”

“What if we send a scout, though?” Quenton asked. The others looked surprised.

“What? It’s a good idea!”

“It might be a good idea,” Doctor Delveccio said. “We’re just surprised it came from you.”

“Damn. She’s got you there,” Hank said, patting Quenton on the back as he hung his head, his cheeks flaming red.

“Try and come up with more of those, eh?” Vera said with a grin. “You might even get to the point where people forget you puked in your own suit during that first fight.”

The light of hope stole over his features briefly before Ileane cruelly snatched it away.

“Nah. You’ll always be puke boy to me, Q.” Sam wisely distracted Quenton with a light slap to the back of the head the moment he opened his mouth to retort angrily.

“Don’t argue with the ladies, Q. If you win you’re a bully. If you lose, you’re a loser. Meditate and find your center. Let the anger flow out of you and peace flow in,” he said with a dramatic breath in through his nose and slowly let it out through his mouth with an expression of beatific contentment.

“Is that what you do?” Vera asked.

“Hell no. I don’t get into arguments with the ladies. Especially when they’re smarter than me.” All three of the women in the group laughed at that.

“Okay, so where were we?”

“Quenton actually had a good idea,” Hank supplied for his still fuming friend.

“Scouting. That’s right,” Doctor Delveccio snapped her fingers. “Obviously that should be-”

“Me.” I said firmly.

“Z, I hate to tell you but that big hunk of metal of yours isn't exactly stealthy,” Ileane said with a frown.

“I know. That’s why I’ll be leaving it behind.”

“Z...” Doctor Delveccio began in a warning tone.

“It’s the best choice for all of us.”

“It’s the dumbest choice, Z. You’re the one that can’t be risked on a potential suicide mission,” she said. “You know more about the zombies, the nanites, and the infection process than anyone alive. Give me one- no give me TWO good reasons why this isn’t some sort of convoluted form of suicide?”

“I’ve spent longer dodging zombies and not getting caught. If I get bitten, I can survive it. I know the layout already. I walked it hundreds, if not thousands of times already. I can work my way through the engineering offices from the maintenance shaft.

“I can get the attention of the horde. That will give you an opportunity to set up a defensive perimeter. We can pin them between the turrets and your guns, grenades, and Vera’s explosives. I’ll be safe behind the guard station.”

In the end they finally agreed, albeit reluctantly and with many threats should I get myself killed in the attempt. I agreed to take one of the better space suits from the hidden airlock at the top of the station.

Vera gave me a couple of devices that would work like grenades. Timed explosives. If I had to use them then things would probably be very bad. Other than that, I had my freshly cleaned and maintained pistol, four extra magazines, the vibroknife that I had used precisely once so far. There was extra food that I would never be without again, a bottle full of formula, and one increasingly adventurous Wampus Cat.

Ileane volunteered to stay behind and monitor us all through the cameras from the Chief’s office. She was not the best shot, and could keep an eye on us all and let everyone know what was going on.

I did not like the idea of splitting up further, but thought that having someone able to see all the angles could be of help to us.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Doctor Delveccio asked me as I prepared to thread my way through Vera’s explosives and into the maintenance shaft.

“It’s the best choice we have of a bad lot. Hopefully it’s the last time we’ll have to do things this way.”

“Don’t fuck this up, Z. Sneak in there, make some noise, and go hide in the lab section. We’ll hit them from behind and between us and the turrets, that horde is toast. Just don’t go getting yourself killed on us,” she said with a grimace.

I nodded back to her seriously. Then I pushed off into the maintenance shaft. The hatch closed behind me, shutting off the window of light that had shone into the darkness.

Once again I was alone with the zombies.