Discovery part 9 by Ronald Faltus

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At each side tube, he began to notice that the cryogenic tubes were spaced further apart. Not only was the Heavenly Star designed to instill a senses of destiny, it also served to reinforce centuries of cultural stratification. The workers rode in the back while those of higher standing rode in front. It was an easily noticed distinction in design, one even a cretin like Sands could figure out. Through the dim lighting, Gareth could see that ahead, only a few hundred paces away, the front bulkhead closed off the corridor and only a few side passages remained. If Sands was indeed still at work, he would be in one of theses last reaming corridors.

Instinctually he slowed his pace; fighting the urge to hurry for the sake of those that Sands was condemning to death. Making an accidental noise wasn't the issue; he could yell all he wanted and let the vacuum absorb the sound waves away. He was in fact fighting through the last residual urges to flee, trepidation that Sands might exit one of the cryogenic suites right in front of him. The thought made him unhitch the grapple from his belt and hold it tightly, finger on the trigger. It was a one shot weapon, he knew if he missed that any edge he had over the criminal was gone. The contest would then be settled by a brawl between the two, and it was a match that Gareth was sure to be the less skilled in. Unless of courses, Sands took the precaution of bring his own weapon, on the possibility that someone followed him to his secret stash. Gareth shook his head as he peaked around the next corner, wondering why his mind waited till know to come up with such an idea.

Meeting his gaze was a face that stole every ounce of courage Gareth had mustered to this point. Hollow eye sockets pierced through his soul, the cracked flesh of the face hung in the air, frozen in a singular moment of pain and anguish. More scared out of his wits than caught off guard, Gareth jumped back and tripped over his own feet on the landing, sending him again crashing to the deck. With one hand he found a hold on the grating and with the other raised the grapple and took aim. An instant before firing, he noticed that the figure remained motionless, hanging like a specter that was made up of the culmination of a thousand nightmares. Realizing that it was once one of the passengers, his terror was removed, and a deep overwhelming sense of sadness grew.

Standing, Gareth stared at the grizzly corps, unable to look away. Frozen solid by the extreme cold of deep space, the skin had taken on an unnatural bluish ting, and was crossed with cragged gashes resulting from the moister being sucked away. In the absence of gravity, the victim floated in the air, slowly making its way out of the side tube. Gently, Gareth reached up and grabbed the poor soul by the wrist and pulled him fully out of the tube. Looking at the man, he could tell by the expression that he had regained some consciousness when his tube was opened and exposed to empty space. For a brief second, he would have know that something was horribly wrong as his breath was taken form his lungs and every inch of his skin burst as his capillaries ruptured form the lack of pressure.