Page 68 of Rupture

“Crap,” Rose swore under her breath. Her heart raced from Finn’s confession, from the raw honesty in his eyes and the lingering warmth of his lips on hers. But there would be time later to process what had passed between them, after they survived the next few minutes.

“We need to hurry. Pass the last few to me.” She positioned herself by the tank, ready to receive the last of the Ceto bacteria.

Ethan worked alongside them, fastening ropes to the door. The setup would allow them to trap the nanobots without remaining too close to the tank entrance.

Quickly, they worked to empty the trolley. Rose was out of breath, her shirt plastered to her back by the time they had all the Ceto inside the tank. She fixed a protective mask over her face. She knew that what the Ceto could do to human tissue was grotesque. One by one, she removed theseals, her fingers shaky as she exposed each container to the air.

A low drone cut through the hub’s background noise. Soft at first, barely perceptible over the hum of machinery, then growing steadily stronger until it crowded the space with its alien resonance. Her stomach contracted as the pitch shifted higher, becoming more focused. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her mouth went dry. It was close.

This is it.

“Rose. Get out. They’re here.” Finn’s hand shot out, grasping hers. He helped her scramble from the tank, his grip tight with urgency. They backed away with Ethan, shoulders pressed against the rear wall of the room.

The swarm appeared in the corridor. A dark, shifting cloud, catching and reflecting the harsh overhead lights, a body of innumerable motes glinting like stars in a roiling void.

The mass hovered at the hub’s threshold as if testing the air. Rose held her breath as the swarm pulsed and writhed with movement that was impossibly organic. Alive. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from it. The sight of her sister’s creation made her chest constrict with a mixture of horror and awe.

After several agonizing seconds, it entered the hub. The drone changed pitch as it moved, a sound like an electronic hunger that made Rose’s teeth ache. The swarm drifted toward the tank but didn’t enter.

“Something’s wrong,” Rose whispered, her words barely audible over the drone that consumed every corner of the room.

“They should go for the bacteria. Why aren’t they goingin?” Finn’s breath skimmed the top of her head, tickling her hair.

I know why.

They were already smarter than she’d estimated. The swarm was hanging back, wary of entering what it had identified as a potential trap. Her sister’s creation had evolved beyond any predictions.

This wouldn’t work—not unless they did something different. She snuck a glance at Finn and Ethan, their gazes transfixed by the hovering swarm. There was no time for discussion. It would only spook the nanobots, send them retreating into the Io’s vast network of corridors.

Now or never.

Three rapid paces brought her to the tank’s exterior ladder. Her fingers closed around the cold metal rungs. She climbed swiftly. At the top, she yanked open the access hatch, revealing the ladder that descended into the hollowed curve of the tank below.

“Rose.” Finn’s hiss cut through the bots’ reverberation. “What the fuck?”

Rose ignored him, pushing off from the rim. She couldn’t risk taking the time to climb down—couldn’t give Finn the chance to catch her or the swarm the opportunity to retreat. Her boots hit the floor with a splash.

“Rose!” The ladder rang with the impact of his boots as Finn followed.

She forced herself to ignore the sound of his pursuit. Hesitation now would destroy their one chance. Keeping her gaze locked ahead, she strode to the open canisters. As she lifted the nearest one, she sensed a shift in the mist hovering at the tank entrance. Nothing she could see, something more subtle that she perceived from an instinct born of desperate necessity.

The swarm was deciding. She had seconds to make hers count.

Rose tipped the canister. The green liquid spilled across the tank floor, splattering her boots with bioluminescent droplets. She stepped into the spreading puddle, twisting the sole of her boot against the tank floor with a wet squelching sound. All the while, she kept her gaze locked on the open entrance hatch, her breath fogging the inside of her mask.

“You see this? You want this?” Her voice rang out, despite her racing pulse. “Come and stop me.”

The gray mist responded, its formless mass condensing into a tapered stream that poured through the open exit.

Yes.

Rose retreated as the swarm filled the container, particles swirling and multiplying until they formed a dense wall before her. The swarm widened its formation, spreading outward like monstrous wings unfurling. The drone grew deeper, more intense, drilling deep into her bones.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she reached for the internal ladder. Finn was at the top, leaning down, hand outstretched toward her. “Rose, now!”

Her foot connected with the first rung as she reached for him. Then the metal turned slick beneath her boot. The world tilted sickeningly, time stretching like elastic as she felt herself falling backward. Her stomach lurched into her throat. A powerful hand grabbed her wrist but not before the back of her head cracked metal, pain detonating behind her ears.

The swarm boiled toward her like a closing fist as she was yanked upward, then darkness swallowed everything.

---