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[execution pt2] The Airlock

A thin pane of glass separates us. John doesn’t speak, doesn’t move.

It’s freezing in here. No insulation preventing the cold of outer space from affecting the chamber.

It’s about to get much colder.

I reach for the airlock switch, my hand hovers. I stare again at John’s haggard face.

John looks away. Closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.

He isn’t shivering. I can’t stop shaking.

“I’m sorry.”

I hit the switch, and John’s body is cast into the blackness, reduced in an instant from an old friend to floating debris.

And for a moment, I believe in god. The thought terrifies me.

I turn, collapse against the hatch as I hear the whoosh of the airlock re-pressurizing. Check my watch. 2326. Time to make the call.

I tap out Chancellor Hughes’ contact on my communicator.

“Yes, Wordsmith?”

I try to keep my voice firm and emotionless.

“It is done, Chancellor.”

“Very well. Return to your quarters, we will contact you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Chancellor.”

The link dies, and I wonder how soon I’ll follow suit.

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