Download the Book - Islam and Science Fiction

The time neared. Two of Annette's paramours were on the
bridge. Shahid's eyes settled on the most recent. His accomplices
took his meaning instantly and trained their weapons on the one
named Jeremy, motioning him forward. The victim came forward,
slowly and fearfully, but knowing there was nothing he could do.
"Whore, look here," Shahid shouted at the intercom. "One of
your customers. You have one minute to open the hatch, or I start
ruining your business."
She saw who it was and turned her face away.
"Look around you, harlot. See the bodies? See the drops of
blood floating around, getting on everything, on you? Are you
prepared to do that to your lover here? Thirty seconds, harlot."
Soft sobs were the only sounds from the intercom.
Shahid waited half a minute in tense silence, then, at a motion of
his hand, Gaffar sent an exploding shell into the man's head. The
effects, as intended, were especially gruesome.
Seconds after the execution, Dr. Thompson launched herself
across the bridge at Shahid like a wrinkled old scarecrow shot from a
cannon. He deflected her easily with a swipe from his weapon hand
and sent her crashing into a console. As she bounced off of it and
drifted slowly back, moaning, Shahid stared at his hand. It was
smeared with the old woman's blood. That seemed to anger him
more. When she floated into reach, he smashed her again, sending
her flying into a corner where she crumpled into an unconscious ball.
The crew seethed. They seemed almost as angry at the
brutalization of the old woman as they did at the killing. The
terrorists trained their weapons on the hostages to quell any building
mood of heroism. Her back to them, none of the terrorists noticed Dr.
Thompson's right hand drift over to the computer strapped to her left
forearm.
< --- >
Jan was gently scraping explosive from a bolt. Mike had just
finished attaching a detonator to a grape, and was waiting for Jan to
hand him a fresh batch of the putty-like compound.
"What I wouldn't give for a paper bag," he teased.
Jan looked up for an instant. "For even thinking about it, when
this is over, you're going out an airlock."
There was a soft beep, and a message window appeared on Jan's
screen.
playing possum. can i help? doc t.
"Geez, she's on the bridge." Jan typed a reply.
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