Chapter 30

# Day 10 – 13:00

They locked Victoria Elise in the forward dry storage—a bare chamber stripped of provisions and lined with galley packing blankets. A heavy hatch sealed her in; a small viewport and camera tracked her every move. Zip-ties bound her wrists and ankles, a stainless steel security bracelet biting into her thin wrist—standard protocol for high-risk detainees.

Zhao paced the other side of the glass for ten minutes, searching for any sign: Was she shattered? Hiding rage? Poised to snap?

She sat motionless, chin tucked, eyes fixed on the far wall. Her breathing was shallow through the nose. Dried blood crusted her temple; her lashed-together hands were bruised blue.

Zhao wondered about the photographs she'd refused to surrender—creased wallet-sized prints of smiling faces. A woman with her arm around Victoria's shoulders, maybe. Children, perhaps. All gone now, consumed by whatever horror had overtaken the Victoria. The virus that now coursed through her veins had first devoured those she loved. She never spoke of them, but her calculated distance—the precise three feet she maintained between herself and others—told Zhao everything.

The debrief took place in the galley—Maggie, Captain Verne, Saanvi, Aida, Vivienne, Zhao, and Mei-Lin observed in tense silence.

Maggie began: “She’s not a crawler. Not remotely.”

Saanvi tapped her tablet, brow furrowed. "Her Dawn saturation is at 76%—dangerously above safety threshold." She swiped through several charts, enlarging one with two fingers. "Look at this. Most infected show exponential viral spread, but her readings have plateaued. It's as if her body has... contained the infection somehow, quarantined it within certain systems while maintaining critical functions." She pulled up another screen. "During intake, her vitals showed severe bradycardia—heart rate dropping to near-critical levels—yet she remained fully conscious and fought with remarkable coordination. Her body should be shutting down with this viral load, but she's adapted to function alongside it."

Vivienne leaned forward, her manicured nails tapping against the tablet. "Could she have some kind of genetic enhancement? Or is this just exceptional training?"

"All her physiological markers fall within normal human parameters," Saanvi replied, adjusting her glasses. "I haven't sequenced her genome yet, but genetic modification seems improbable. I'll need to run everything through our AI analytics suite—we should have conclusive results in a few weeks."

Maggie scrolling through diagnostics. "The way she moves—it's not just adrenaline. Every counter-attack was textbook perfect. Nobody fights like that without years of drills burned into their nervous system. Military background, maybe black ops."

Mei-Lin's voice was soft: "Why didn't she end it?"

No one spoke for a beat.

Maggie answered quietly: "She tried. Twice."

Aida checked the tablet, her eyes narrowing with professional interest. "Her pulse never spiked above 72 during questioning. That level of control—it's not natural. Either military meditation techniques or some form of self-hypnosis. Whatever it is, it's keeping the virus contained where others would panic and accelerate infection." Aida's eyes narrowed with clinical interest. "If we could isolate that mechanism—study her response patterns—we might improve our own treatment protocols. Someone with her level of control could be the key to extending our survival window. We need her alive and cooperative."

Vivienne flipped through the file. "Her account sounds insane, but it lines up with cargo manifests and survivor logs."

Captain Verne’s face remained impassive. “All right. Let’s hear her story.”

# Day 10 – 13:24

Victoria’s voice on the interrogation tape was raw and uninflected, each word clipped as if she’d rehearsed this confession a thousand times.

“Rowan Keur wasn’t a visionary—he was a sadist with resources. He planned to ride out the outbreak, breed his own ‘immune’ lineage. Father and son, genetically spliced, enriched with experimental serums. When the world collapsed, they gathered the most ‘interesting’ women they could find.”

A wet rasp—the sound of her clearing her throat, maybe spitting blood.

“They turned it into a sport: endurance, conquest. Dosed us with every aphrodisiac they had. We were locked in for weeks. Those who broke either joined them or were quietly eliminated. I lost count after killing three—or four. When the boy finally revolted, I helped him. I thought I was saving us. Instead they slaughtered each other, and the rest of us went mad.”

Another pause, then Saanvi’s prompt: “The crawlers?”

“They were the ones too broken to kill or be killed. They just… dissolved. I finished the last one myself. Personal closure.”

Silence, then Victoria: “I didn’t expect rescue. Didn’t think anyone would come.”

End of tape.

Captain Verne exchanged a look with Vivienne. “How can we trust her?”

Vivienne met Verne’s gaze. “She’s scared to die. After all that, she wants to stay alive.”

Aida added, “Trauma imprint is heavy, but she’s coherent. She answers direct questions—no evasions.”

Vivienne leaned in, her voice softening: "She saw us from afar—how we operate, how we treat each other. After what she endured on the Victoria, even a glimpse of the Blue Oasis would seem worth fighting to reach. Worth living for."

Verne’s voice was flat. “Maybe. But she’s unpredictable. Saanvi?”

Saanvi nodded. “Physically, she’s stable enough for the protocol. Past injuries—abdomen scarring, healed fractures. I’d recommend a mild sedative for the first session.”

Maggie cut in: “We don’t have sufficient manpower to restrain her during treatment.”

Zhao’s jaw tightened. “So what’s the plan? Hope she phases out and cooperates?”

Verne answered coldly: “We need her expertise. If she can fight, she can help us.”

Mei-Lin swallowed. “I can prepare her for the session. Stay in the room, monitor vitals.”

Verne shook her head. “Not without sedation. She’s already proven she can rip arms off.”

Aida offered: “We could use a short-acting tranquilizer—low dose, just enough to ensure compliance without memory gaps.”

Zhao glanced at Verne. “She’s lucid now. I can manage her.”

The galley fell silent except for the hum of the refrigeration unit.

Verne’s eyes hardened. “No. Full decontamination protocol first—medical screening, no exceptions. She stays in full restraints throughout treatment.”

Zhao began to object, but Verne raised a hand. “This is non-negotiable. She’s killed multiple people.”

Aida reached under the table and touched Zhao’s hand. “You sure you want this responsibility?”

He inhaled, meeting every stare. "I'll do it. But she needs every precaution—screening, decon, sedation, restraints—for at least the first session. And we can't treat her in dry storage. We need to move her somewhere accessible."

Verne's posture eased. "Agreed. Saanvi will supervise prep. Maggie, set up the damaged cabin on the lower deck with full safety protocol—reinforced restraints, emergency sedatives, panic button. I want hourly status reports."

Maggie nodded, already mentally configuring the space as she rose from her seat.