The Third Body
“I found another one,” Jen said, whispering into her shoulder-strapped microphone. “She’s dead too.”
Mart started to say something, but Jen muted the speakers and approached the dead woman. She lay stretched out fully-clothed on the large bed, looking peaceful, the wrinkles around her eyes and lips soft and relaxed, her fingernails clean, no blood visible on her skin or clothes. Just like the man on the bridge.
She stepped away from the woman, feeling very cold all of a sudden. She unmuted the speakers.
“Where were you?” Mart said in that tightly controlled voice that was almost scarier than if he’d just yell. “Did you turn me off again? I told you how much I hate that, Jen.”
“The microphone malfunctioned,” she said. “I’ll keep checking the ship.”