At once, she understood why the Europhids wanted her alive. She contained the sum of human knowledge on what the Europhids feared most—infection. Peterson had given the necessary clue when he spoke of decontamination. From experience, Choi knew that such intense fear of infection typically took hold of individuals or populations that were particularly susceptible to disease, especially new, introduced variations. The susceptible hosts naturally adapted a disease to suit their biology, even if it originated in another species. Even among humans, the origins of plagues like AIDS were speculated to have stemmed from an SIV—simian immunodeficiency virus. The original host for AIDS was most likely one of these individuals, whose bodies adapt viruses to human physiology.

The fear of infection exuded by Europhids hinted that they too might be susceptible to foreign disease, whether or not it was originally designed to affect Europhids. The only path to freedom became clear in Choi's mind. She hoped the reaction would be quick enough.

Choi took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the plastic smelling air inside her PMS. After letting it out slowly, Choi lurched her head back and brought it down like a cannon ball. The Europhids beneath her head splattered under the force, coating the surrounding Europhids with their innards. Choi noticed a sudden change in her motion. The pressure that had been building around her thighs and moving towards her waist paused.

It was as though the Europhids sensed Choi's intentions.

Not wanting to give them time to react, Choi slammed her face down on the tunnel floor a second time. A wet ooze beneath her nose told her she'd been successful in reaching the first goal in her plan—her nose was dripping blood. She could see it gathering on her facemask, wet, thick and full of Hepatitis C. Her own blood was considered a hazardous material and handled with the greatest of care. She was about to expose the Europhids to it.

There was no way to know what effect her poisonous blood would have on the alien creatures, but other options did not exist. She smashed her head into the ice one more time, with all the force she could muster. A loud hiss signified success. A small crack had been opened in her facemask, and as her air was sucked out into the vacuum of space, her blood—her personal toxin—went with it.

Choi held her breath and closed her eyes tight. The vacuum of space stole her air at the same time it extracted her blood. Her chest burned with the need for oxygen. The hiss of escaping air became higher pitched as the self healing facemask resealed. An abrupt silence followed.

The mask had mended.