I unseal the door that stands between Reverend Shipping and the two forms who must be Orion and Wayta.

When the door slides open, I see that I'm right. But all is not right at all.

Orion is paler than a Martian with his head cradled in Wayta's lap- though she still looks like him. Sweat is glistening on his skin, and his eyes are closed.

Wayta looks up, and her version of Orion's eyes are dull. "Do you have the cure?"

Shipping holds up the vial as he moves toward them.

Orion's doppelganger holds out her hand. "Give it to me."

The Reverend glances at me, as if asking if I trust her.

"You hold him still, Wayta," I answer both of them. "Shipping can administer it."

Wayta narrows her version of Orion's eyes. "I've guarded him all this time."

"And I fought my way to get here," Shipping counters, bending down beside them and preparing the vial for injection. "How much should I inject him with, Alicia Ivy?"

I scan both him and the vial, analyzing components and running equations to calculate how much he needs. "All of it."

Shipping doesn't hesitate to lift Orion's sleeve and inject him right in a vein.

Moving closer, I scan Orion and barely wait for those results to come back before scanning him again.

Wayta studies me. "Well?"

I ignore her and scan Orion again.

She turns to Shipping.

Shipping turns to me on Wayta's behalf. "Well?"

"His symptom levels are receding." I scan him again, but detect a secondary pattern.

One that is about to become a primary pattern. "But so is his heart rate."

Shipping and Wayta turn to me in unison. "What?!"

"Shipping, find two pieces of metal you can carry back."

Without a question, Shipping jumps up to do just that.

"Wayta," I continue, not bothering to consider the cons of trusting her. There's no time. "Remove Orion's shirt."

"With pleasure."

Shipping winces at that, but Wayta doesn't spare him a look as she cuts Orion's shirt off his still body.

Just as his heart flat-lines.

"Lay him flat on the ground," I order.

Wayta gently lays Orion down before moving out from underneath him. "He's so... still."

"Shipping, place the metal disks on his chest."

Shipping does so before looking at me questioningly.

But I have no time for questions. "Step back."

They both do, though not very far.

Since there's no time to tell them further orders, I reach into the ship once again, and cause one of the interchangeable cords in the ceiling to unconnect.

Dropping those cords from the ceiling, we all find ourselves staring at the sparking devices, hovering just a foot above Orion's still form.

Wayta's still moving version of Orion's face twists in concern and she steps forward. "What are you doing?"

Shipping touches her arm to keep her from charging further forward. "Trust Alicia Ivy. She has his best interests in mind."

I do. But if Wayta wants to get caught in the crossfire, she is certainly welcome to. If she dies as Orion comes to live again, it will be no issue to be resolved.

Lowering the wire onto Orion's chest, I let the electricity flow through him. His body jolts, and I lift it back up before assessing him. Then I lower the wire again. When I lift the wires again, Orion jots with a gasp.

Wayta and Shipping both dive toward him. The former lifts Orion's head gently and checks his pulse there. The Reverend checks his wrist for a pulse before scanning his chest. "His heart is functioning again, but his flesh is burnt."

I re-scan my captain, making sure that his vitals are stable. "Shipping, I need you to carry him back to the ship. Rose can fix the burns."

Wayta doesn't look away from the face she's currently mimicking. "What about the crew?"

Shipping moves his arms underneath Orion. "Taken care of."

She glances at him with surprise, and then suspicion.

And the Reverend tosses Wayta one of his confiscated weapons. "But you can make sure that none of them follow us back to our ship."

"And I will prepare for their ship to unlatch from ours," I answer.

Nodding, Shipping turns to carry Orion out of the room. Wayta follows close behind, scanning the area for hostiles.

Logging back into the ship mainframe, I search out the main controls in the cock-pit.

Access denied.

I stare at the system in front of me that is blocked from the rest of the ship's network as I run diagnostics of how to correct the issue even as I try to analyze what could possibly have the cockpit locked down and leave the rest of the ship exposed?

There's another AI present. One given the express orders to protect the cockpit.

Turning back to the cockpit, I put out a command in zeroes and ones. Your captain and crew have been captured; now stand down.

Access denied.

This time, as the message jolts through my system, I recognize it. It's not an alien AI, but my own security system put in place to warn me against viruses.

So that's how they've been protecting their ship in lieu of an AI.

Emailing a portion of myself back to my ship, I send the rest of myself in.

Immediately, the other entity in the network starts reproducing itself, but I ignore it and focus on operating the controls to undock the ship.

The virus touches my network, and everything wavers for a moment. But I focus. I only have seconds before the system is completely overrun and I can do nothing but be smothered. So I throw myself against the option to undock the ship.

Then the virus overcomes me.