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you.”
    “Oh my God,” Brown exclaimed. “They really did come here to rescue us?” He turned an accusing look on Ben. “You were going to strand them up here.”
    Dwight pulled a small tablet out of his pocket, handing it to Brown. “Before you get your head all the way up your ass, Tim, you might want to look at the last email we got from the surface.”
    Brown looked down at the screen for a few seconds. “Don’t see how this changes anything.” He looked up at Dwight. “If anything, it backs up what the pilot is saying…”
    “Bullshit,” Dwight cut in harshly. “ Containment specialists that show up with assault weapons?” He shook his head. “They were coming to contain us . They wanted us all lined up down here so they could just land, shoot us all, and get home in time for dinner.”
    “Enough arguing,” Ben growled, still looking at the pilot. “Are you ready to launch?”
    No answer.
    “Dwight, watch the co-pilot.” Ben stepped back waving with his pistol. “The pilot has decided to stay behind with the containment team.”
    The pilot looked up at Ben for a brief moment, as if trying to judge whether he was serious. He finally got up and started toward the ramp. He stopped at the bulkhead and nodded to a locker built into the panel. “Can I at least take my sidearm? It didn’t sound very friendly when the team went down that hallway.”  
    “Just get out.” Ben jerked his head toward the rear ramp and, as the pilot started moving, he opened the small locker. Inside were Berretta 9-mm handguns on black belts as well as some assault rifles. He took a pistol out, drawing the weapon and throwing the belt and magazines to the floor at the base of the ramp.
    The pilot watched in silence as Ben removed the slide from the top of the weapon and pulled out the spring assembly and barrel. He threw the parts to random locations in the large shuttle bay. He tossed the lower part of the weapon to the middle of the floor.
    “I’ll try to send someone back for you.” Ben shrugged. “I would suggest you gather whatever food you can and wait here in the bay.” He turned to the young woman who had been arguing with Brown. “Miss, what’s your name?”
    “ Miss ,” she laughed dully. “That’s what really has me believing you. We’re all single – loners. If we disappear, nobody’s gonna ask a lot of questions.” She shook her head. “Sorry – Sarah, Dr. Sarah Mendel.”
    “Sarah, you know how to use that thing?” He nodded at the Glock .45 ACP in her hand.
    “Yeah,” she answered with a nod. “After the Dactari hit the Mars colony, I’ve kept a small armory in my condo.” She hefted the weapon. “Took this from Dr. Narcisse’s desk after he… used it.”
    “Well, Sarah, if he moves,” Ben waved a hand toward the pilot, “you got any problems with pulling the trigger?”
    “After the week I’ve been having,” she said, “and considering how he brought a team here to kill me – yeah, I’m comfortable with pulling the trigger.”
    Ben left her to watch the pilot and moved back to the cockpit, dropping into the empty, port side seat. “So,” he began, buckling in, “I’m a terrible pilot, to say the least.” He looked over at the co-pilot. “You can earn your trip off this infected shit-hole by flying for us or you can stay here and take your chances with a superbug that’ll turn you into a brain-dead walking corpse within hours.”
    Ben had absolutely no idea how to fly a shuttle, or anything else for that matter, but it wouldn’t do to let the co-pilot know he was indispensable. He had to believe that he couldn’t get away with anything. The bluff seemed to work.
    “I’m good with flying,” the co-pilot answered earnestly. “Anywhere you want to go.”
    “Good.” Ben nodded. “We’ll start with Chicago.”
    “Just came from there,” the man replied. “Whole downtown is under quarantine. It’s a no-fly zone. Anything tries to get past I-294, it gets an