"Lower metabolism…" Chuck said, then closed his eyes so he wouldn't see the spinning walls of the capsule — nor the two others who were at the end of the capsule, as far as they could get from him. We found his mouth with the flask and sucked in a burning measure of the liquid. "Metabolism is oxidation and we gotta save oxygen, eat, eat less, burn less. Go three weeks without food. Good for the figure. Lie down. Move less, burn less. . oxygen…" His grumbling voice died away and the plastic flask floated free of his limp fingers.
"No, no, I can't," Helena sobbed and held to Damian. She had drunk little, but fear had affected her even more strongly.
"No, you shouldn't, shouldn't," Damian said and drank again because he did not know what to do. He bent to kiss her hair and somehow had his lips against the tear-cold dampness of her cheek, then on the full warmth of her mouth.
She was suddenly aware of him. Her lips responded and her arms were about him, her body pressing against him, her legs thrusting. They floated freely in the air, rotating slowly locked in tight embrace.
"I want you, I don't want to die, I can't, I can't," Helena sobbed and took his hand, putting it inside her dress onto the bare, warm firmness of her breast. "Help me, help me…"
Damian kissed her in a roaring wave of sensation. He knew that the spaceman was there, unconscious, only feet away, yet he didn't care. The escape from the wreck, the unbearable tension of gambling with his own life, the amount he had drunk, the closeness of death, the passion of the woman's flesh against his, all of this combined to wipe away everything except the burning awareness of her presence and the rising passion she evoked.
"Come to me, I need you," she whispered in his ear, then took it hard between her teeth. "I can't die. Why should I? He wants it, that pig. Only he wants it. He wants death, why can't he die? Why didn't he leave me in the ship? He gave me my life and now he will take it away again. And you too, you'll see, after me he'll find a way to kill you. What does he need either of us for? You can't believe a thing he said, why should we? He's brutal, deadly, a monster. He's going to kill me. You want me and he is going to kill me."
"Helena…" he whispered, as his flesh touched hers.
"No!" she wailed, and pushed him from her. He did not understand. He pressed forward again but she held him from her. "No, I cannot, I want to, but I cannot. Not with him here, not before I die. But I do want you…"
Then she was gone, and when he turned to look for her he became dizzy and saw her bending over the end of the capsule. Time moved strangely, too fast, yet slow at the same time. She was gone a long time, yet she was suddenly back and putting something cold into his hand.
"Take this," she whispered, "it's from the medical kit. I can't do it, you must. Someone must die. He must die, you can do it. He is the biggest. Do it then come back to me. I'll be here, I'll be with you always, just do this for me."
Blinking, Damian looked down at the glittering scalpel on his palm, at her hand closing his fingers over it. "Do it!" she breathed and pulled him, drifting, the length of the tiny space until he hung over the snoring spaceman. ''DO IT!" the voice said and, not knowing quite what he was doing or why, he raised his fist high.
"There!" her voice said and her finger swam before him touching the sleeping man on the side of the neck, just on a thick and pulsing artery.
"Do it!" Her lips touched moistly down his face and in a sudden spasm he struck down at the bare flesh.
It was the bellow of a wounded beast. Sober, awake in the instant, with the pain tearing red fingers into his neck. Chuck reared up, lashing out with his hands. The scalpel was plunged an inch deep into his flesh, lodged in the thick mastoid muscle of his neck, bleeding floating red spheres into the air.
His hands clutched Damian and, still roaring with agony, he began to beat him as only a spacer knows how to do, holding one hand behind his head so he could not recoil away while the other fist pounded and crushed his face. Damian fought back, trying to escape the pain, but there was no escape. As they battled Helena's voice shattered about them.
"He tried to kill you, Chuck, he wanted me but I told him no. So he tried to kill you while you slept. A coward! Rape me, he tried. . kill him. . put him out of the ship. Here, the port!"
She pushed over to the airlock and opened the inner port as she had seen him do earlier. The lock was just big enough for a man. "In here!" she screeched.
Her words came through Chuck's anger and fitted it, telling him what he really wanted to do. Holding the other by the throat he spun him across the capsule and began to jam him, struggling into the tiny space. The scalpel fell from his neck and slow droplets bubbled in its wake.
Damian's body went suddenly limp and Chuck pushed in the legs and then a dangling arm.
