Robert sat calmly on a chair at the command deck’s main window. It was the dead of night. Almost everyone was asleep. With a odd satisfaction, Robert watched as his ship drifted slowly away from the convoy. The work of the engines was so subtle they would go completely unnoticed for a time. He'd deactivated almost all shipboard sensors. The crew wouldn’t know what was happening until it was too late. Robert had been meticulous in his calculations, using his knowledge of the virus to project the proper course. His ship would reach Mars shortly after Schulz himself.
Space was beautiful to Robert now. He'd seen it so many times that it'd lost its thrill. Now, knowing this was his last chance to admire it, he couldn’t look away. The stars and ships, the slowness of it all.
Robert was no longer consumed by fear. In fact, it couldn’t touch him. Nothing seemed so scary anymore, not even his own death. He could feel a glorious sense of freedom.
He saved his crew.
He reached into his pocket and removed the pearls. To his surprise, a blue one had become a shining silver. It was time for them to move on, and he didn't question the impulse for a moment. He brought them to the command crew washroom, opening the lid of the garbage chute, which led to the garbage collection area in the lowest part of the ship.
Robert held the pearls in the palm of his outstretched hand, then tipped it. The pearls plummeted into the crushing blackness below.