an alcove, opening into a vast chamber. once pristine, all the surfaces have been coated in a dark gray slick. globules of fluid hang motionless, sticking to justin's suit, leeching away his light and swallowing him in darkness.
justin examines the outer wall of the core, looking for any cracks or ruptured seams.
justin places the pressure sensor against the core. touching it.
into the second containment. he catches himself at the console. cooper sees justin's safety line, cut off abruptly by the darkness of the core.
justin and cooper collapse to the deck, coolant splashing down all around them.
miller, starck and weir stand before the core. dark ominous structures loom around them, glistening with coolant. the pulse of the ship is loud here, a deep thrum that steals their breath. weir's voice is a reverent whisper:
second containment. a lone engineer finishes his check of the core. he turns to the camera and gives a self-conscious "thumbs-up."
the second containment seal opens. weir is about to enter when miller stops him. he checks a geiger counter. it is silent.
miller slogs through the coolant to the core. stares at it. it remains metallic, mundane.
even the emergency lights go out. total darkness.
smith and peters finish removing co2 scrubbers from panels in the walls.
into the darkness of the second containment. peters sees an open access panel. she looks inside.
peters hits hard, lies before the core, an offering of flesh and blood. her legs twist beneath her, shattered; blood pools around her head. her chest heaves: still alive.
weir enters the second containment. freezes as he sees.
she reaches down. slowly, her arms cradle his head. she slides down on him. straddles him.
he raises his head to her breasts. his eyes, closed. she remains unnaturally still, only her hips rocking back and forth.
she caresses his face. lifts his face to hers. her mouth is slack. her hair hangs in front of her eyes.
weir gazes up at her, transfixed. he takes her hand and raises it to his face. she caresses his cheek. and reaches for his eyes.
peters body lies before the core. the intercom crackles.
barely makes it.
the second containment is a holocaust. fire swarms over the walls. burning jelly drips from control spikes. the core itself is a blazing orb; the gyroscope that holds it glows red-hot.
peters' bloody grinning child, devouring his mother.
miller writhes in weir's grip. his hands flail out to the sides. one hand brushes a long steel cannister sunk in the muck. a co2 scrubber.
justin, starck and cooper, crucified upside-down upon the third seal.