There was more, in the same vein, but Ripley had seen enough. ‘Shit.’ She turned away, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. ‘I knew it.’
Aaron’s gaze narrowed as he tried to divide his attention between Ripley and the screen. ‘What do you mean, you knew it? It doesn’t mean anything. They know we don’t have any weapons.’
‘Then why the “imperative”? Why the anxious insistence that we don’t do something they must realize we’re not capable of doing?’
He shrugged uncomprehendingly. ‘I guess they don’t want to take any chances.’
‘That’s right,’ she murmured tightly. ‘They don’t want to take any chances.’
‘Hey,’ he said, suddenly alarmed, ‘you’re not thinking of countermanding Company policy, are you?’
Now she did smile. ‘Who, me? Perish the thought.’
* * *
The vestibule outside the toxic storage chamber was dimly illuminated, but the inadequate light did not trouble the two prisoners on duty. There was nothing in the shafts and tunnels that could harm them, and no noise from within. The three dents stood out clearly in the heavy door. They had not been expanded, nor had they been joined by a fourth.
One man leaned casually against the wall, cleaning the dirt from under his nails with a thin sliver of plastic. His companion sat on the hard, cold floor, conversing softly.
‘And I say the thing’s gotta be dead by now.’ The speaker had sandy hair flecked with grey at the temples and a large, curving nose that in another age and time would have given him the aspect of a Lebanese merchant.
‘How you figure that?’ the other man asked.
‘You heard the boss. Nothin’ can get in or out of that box.’ He jerked a thumb in the direction of the storage chamber. ‘Not even gases.’
‘Yeah. So?’
The first man tapped the side of his head with a finger. ‘Think, stupid. If gas can’t get out, that means air can’t get in. The sucker’s been in there long enough already to use up all the air twice over.’
The other glanced at the dented door. ‘Well, maybe.’
‘What d’you mean, maybe? It’s big. That means it uses a lot of air. A lot more than a human.’
‘We don’t know that.’ His companion wore the sombre air of the unconvinced. ‘It ain’t human. Maybe it uses less air. Or maybe it can hibernate or somethin’.’
‘Maybe you oughta go in and check on how it’s doin’.’ The nail-cleaner looked up from his work with a bored expression. ‘Hey, did you hear something?’
The other man suddenly looked to his right, into the dim light of the main tunnel.
‘What’s the matter?’ His companion was grinning. ‘The boogeyman out there?’
‘No, dammit, I heard something.’ Footsteps then, clear and coming closer.
‘Shit.’ The nail-cleaner moved away from the wall, staring.
A figure hove into view, hands clasped behind its back. The two men relaxed. There was some uneasy laughter.
‘Dammit, Golic.’ The man resumed his seat on the floor. ‘You might’ve let us know it was you. Whistled or something.’
‘Yeah,’ said his companion. He waved at the chamber. ‘I don’t think it can whistle.’
‘I’ll remember,’ the big man told them. His expression was distant and he swayed slightly from side to side.
‘Hey, you okay, man? You look weird,’ said the nail-cleaner.
His companion chuckled. ‘He always looks weird.’
‘It’s okay,’ Golic muttered. ‘Let’s go. Off and on. I gotta get in there.’ He nodded towards the chamber.
The two men on the floor exchanged a puzzled glance, one carefully slipping his nail cleaner into a pocket. He was watching the new arrival closely.
‘What the hell’s he talking about?’ the theory-spinner wondered.
‘Fucker’s crazy,’ his companion declared with conviction.
‘What you want here, man? When did they let you out of the infirmary, anyway?’
‘It’s all right.’ Golic’s face shone with beatific determination. ‘I just need to go in there and see the Beast. We got a lot of shit to talk over,’ he added, as if that explained everything. ‘I gotta go in there. You understand.’
‘No, I don’t understand. But I do know one thing. Neither you nor anyone else is goin’ in there, dickhead. Big motherfucker’d eat you alive. Plus, you let that fucker out, and you can kiss our collective ass good-bye. Don’t you know nothin’, brother?’
‘You wanna commit suicide,’ declared his companion, ‘go jump down a mine shaft. But you’re not doin’ it here. The super’d have our butts.’ He started towards the intruder.
‘The superintendent is dead,’ Golic announced solemnly as he brought out the club he’d been holding behind his back and used it to smash the skull of the man coming towards him.
‘What the fuck? Get him—!’
Golic was much faster and far more agile than they imagined, but then this time he was driven by something a good deal more powerful than a simple lust for food. The two men went down beneath the club, their heads and faces bloodied. It was all over very quickly. Golic didn’t pause to see if his companions were still alive because he didn’t really care. All that mattered to him now was the obsession which had taken complete control of his mind, his emotions, his very being.
He regarded the two bodies sprawled at his feet. ‘I didn’t really want to do that. I’ll talk to your mothers. I’ll explain it.’
Dropping the club, he walked up to the door and ran his fingers over the dented alloy. Pressing one ear to the smooth surface, he listened intently. No sound, no scraping, nothing. He giggled softly and moved to the control box, studying it thoughtfully for a long moment, much as a child would examine a complex new toy.
Chuckling to himself, he began fiddling with the controls, running his fingers playfully over the buttons until one clicked home. Deep within the surrounding ceramocarbide, mechanisms whined, metal brushed against metal. The door started to slide aside.
Only to halt as one of the big dents banged up against the jamb.
Frowning, Golic put his body into the narrow gap and pushed against the reluctant barrier, straining with his bulk. Motors hummed in confusion. The door opened a little wider, then stopped completely. The whirr of the motor died. Silence reigned once more.
His body blocking the opening, Golic turned to peer into the blackness within. ‘Okay, I’m here. It’s done. Just tell me what you want. Just tell me what to do, brother.’ He smiled.
The darkness ahead was silent as a tomb. Nothing moved within.
‘Let’s get this straight. I’m with you all the way. I just want to do my job. You just gotta tell me what to do next.’
Though it lingered in the still air for quite some time, the two unconscious, bleeding men sprawled on the floor did not hear the singular high-pitched scream.
* * *
Dillon relaxed on his cot, engaged in his thousandth or ten thousandth game of solitaire. Idly he turned over another card and fingered his one long dreadlock as he spoke to the woman who stood before him.
‘You’re tellin’ me they’re comin’ to take this thing away?’
‘They’ll try,’ Ripley assured him. ‘They don’t want to kill it.’
‘Why? It don’t make no sense.’
‘I agree completely, but they’ll try anyway. I’ve gone around with them on this before. They look on the alien as a potential source of new bioproducts, perhaps even a weapons system.’
Dillon chuckled, a deep, rich sound. But he was clearly disturbed at the idea. ‘Man, they’re crazy.’
‘They won’t listen. They think they know everything. That because nothing on Earth can touch them, this thing can’t either. But it doesn’t care how much power, how many politicians the Company controls. They try to take it back for study and it’ll take over. The risk is too great. We’ve got to figure out some way to finish it off before they get here.’
‘F
rom what you’re tellin’ me they ain’t gonna like that much.’
‘I don’t give a damn what they think. I know better than anyone, better than any of their so-called specialists, what these things can do. Sure you can build a cell that’ll hold one. We’ve proven that here. But these things are patient. And they’ll exploit the slimmest opportunity. Make one slip with them and it’s all over. That doesn’t mean a lot here, or on an isolated little outcolony like Acheron. But if these things ever get loose on Earth, it’ll make Armageddon seem like a school picnic.’
The big man fingered his dreadlock as he puffed away on his relaxer. ‘Sister, I lost a lot of the faithful trappin’ the motherfucker. Men I’d known and lived with for some long, hard years. There weren’t many of us here to begin with and I’m gonna miss them.’ He looked up. ‘Me and my brothers ain’t gonna be the ones goin’ in there and hittin’ it with a stick.
‘Why do we have to kill it anyway, if the Company’s coming for it? Let them worry about it.’
She held her temper. ‘I told you. They’re going to try to take it back to Earth.’
He shrugged indifferently. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘It’ll destroy them. They can’t control it. I told you, it’ll kill them all. Everyone.’
He lay on his back, eyeing the ceiling and puffing contentedly. ‘Like I said, what’s wrong with that?’
Footsteps came pounding down the corridor outside the big man’s room. He sat up curiously as Ripley turned.
Morse halted, breathing hard. His gaze darted from one to the other. Clearly he hadn’t expected to find Ripley there. ‘Hey, Dillon!’
The big man removed the smoker from his lips. ‘You’re interrupting a private discussion, brother.’
Morse glanced anew at Ripley, then back to his fellow prisoner. ‘Put it on hold. I think we got a very large fucking problem, mate.’
* * *
Aaron was no medical tech, but it didn’t take a doctor to see how the two men had been killed. Their heads had been bashed in. That wasn’t the alien’s technique. The bloody club lying nearby only confirmed his suspicions. As for the one who’d killed them, he hadn’t profited by his deed. Golic’s mutilated corpse lay nearby.
Aaron rose to join the others in gazing numbly at the gap in the toxic storage chamber’s doorway. Dillon had stuck a torch inside, confirmed that it was empty.
‘This cuts it,’ the acting superintendent muttered angrily. ‘Miserable son-of-a-bitch let it loose. Crazy fucker. Got what he deserved, by God. Now what the fuck are we gonna do? Andrews was right. We should’ve kept the dumb shithead chained up or sedated. Stupid-ass rehab “experts”.’ He paused, eyeing Ripley with some concern. ‘What’s the matter? Side effects again?’
She was leaning against the wall for support, sucking air in long, awkward gasps and holding her stomach with her other hand.
‘Piss on her,’ Morse growled. ‘The fuckin’ thing’s loose out there.’ He looked around wildly. ‘Now what the fuck are we gonna do?’
‘I just said that,’ Aaron growled. ‘You’re the dumb prick that let Golic go. You miserable little shit, you’ve killed all of us!’
For a man of undistinguished physique he packed an impressive punch. Morse went down hard, blood streaming from his nose. As the acting superintendent loomed over him he was grabbed from behind. Dillon easily lifted him off the floor and set him aside. Aaron glared back at the big man, panting.
‘Cut that shit out,’ Dillon warned him.
‘Watch yourself, Dillon! I’m still in charge here.’
‘I ain’t disputing it. But you don’t be doin’ that. You get me? You don’t be beating on the brothers. That’s my job.’
They regarded each other a moment longer. Then Aaron took a deep breath and looked away, back down at the cringing Morse. ‘Then tell your fuckin’ bozo to shape up. All this shit is his fault!’
Dillon ignored both of them as he turned to Ripley. ‘What do you think? We took care of it once. We still got a chance?’
She was still leaning against the wall, breathing hard, her expression twisted. Her head was killing her. When she finally looked up her face was knotted with pain and nausea.
‘I need… need to get to the EEV.’
‘Yeah, sure, but first we got to decide what to do about the creature.’
‘No.’ She shook her head sharply, her eyes watering slightly. ‘EEV first… now.’
Aaron watched her anxiously. ‘Yeah, okay. No problem. Whatever you say. But why?’
‘The neuroscanner. I need to use one of the scanners that are built into every cryotube. I don’t know if you’ve got anything similar in the infirmary but it wouldn’t matter if you did. Clemens is gone, and I only know how to operate the instrumentation on the EEV. If it’s still functional.’ She winced, bending forward and clutching at her belly.
Dillon took a step towards her, beating Aaron to her side. This time she didn’t object to the hands that helped steady her. She leaned against the big man for support until her breathing slowed.
‘What the hell’s wrong with you? You don’t look so good.’
‘Side effects from medication Clemens was giving her,’ Aaron told him. His gaze narrowed uncertainly. ‘I think.’
‘Who gives a shit what’s wrong with her?’ Morse snapped. ‘What are we gonna do?’
Aaron glared at him. ‘You want to hit your back again, you little dork? Shut the fuck up and quit causin’ panic.’
Morse didn’t back off. ‘Panic! You’re so goddamn dumb, you couldn’t spell it. Don’t tell me about panic! We ought to panic! We’re screwed!’
‘Yeah! And whose fault is it?’
‘Both of you, shut up!’ Dillon roared.
For a moment there was silence as each man glared at his neighbour but did not speak. Eventually Aaron shrugged.
‘Okay, I’m out of ideas. What do we do?’
‘What about the beach?’ Morse opined hopefully.
‘Right,’ the acting superintendent responded sarcastically. ‘The sun won’t be up for another week, and when it’s down it’s forty below zero outside. The rescue team is ten hours away, so that makes a lot of sense.’
‘Wonderful,’ Morse grumbled as Ripley turned and wandered off. ‘So you just want us to stay here and let this fuckin’ beast eat us for lunch.’
‘Get everybody that’s still left together,’ Dillon told him abruptly. ‘Get ’em to the assembly hall. Lieutenant, you can—’ He looked around, puzzled. ‘Where’d she go?’
* * *
Within the vast unloading bay the Emergency Escape Vehicle rested where it had been left, undisturbed and looking lonely in the flickering industrial gloom. Footsteps echoed along walkways, precise and finite in the metal-walled pit. Faint illumination preceded feet, lighting the way through the semi-darkness.
Ripley stripped down in the cramped quarters, carefully setting her clothes aside. Naked, she sat down opposite a small keyboard. Several attempts were required before it flickered to life.
Her fingers worked the keyboard. She paused, played the keys again, then sat staring thoughtfully at the information displayed on the small screen. Rising, she left the readout and turned to the cryotube that had conveyed her to Fiorina.
It was an effort to squeeze back inside, and when she turned to work on the keyboard her hand barely reached.
‘You need some help?’
She stared at Aaron’s sudden appearance.
‘Hey, didn’t mean to scare you. Look, you shouldn’t be wandering around alone.’
‘I’ve heard that one before. Do me a favour. Run the keyboard. I can’t reach over and see what I’m doing.’
He nodded and took the seat as she settled back into the tube. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Very little, I hope. The procedure’s pretty straightforward. You ready?’ she asked, not turning her head to face him.
He gazed at the screen, willing but baffled by the multiple options an
d instructions. ‘I guess so. What do I do now?’
‘Ignore the technospeak. There’s an option menu at the bottom.’
His eyes dropped and he found himself nodding. ‘I see it. What next?’
‘Hit either B or C. What’s C?’
He studied the glowing print. ‘Display biofunctions.’
‘That’s it.’
On his command the screen was replaced by another, no less complicated than its predecessor. ‘Okay, now I’ve got a whole page of new turkeytalk.’
‘Same procedure. Menu at the bottom. There should be a command for visual display. Hit it.’
He complied, glancing back towards the cylinder.
Within the claustrophobic confines of the tube a small motor began to hum. Ripley shifted uncomfortably on the cushioned pallet, feeling very much like a bug under a microscope. Her surroundings suddenly pressed close around her, the wall and ceiling of the EEV threatened to collapse and pin her forever in place. She concentrated on keeping her heartbeat regular, her breathing steady as she closed her eyes. It helped, a little.
The display monitor in front of Aaron flickered. The incomprehensible technical information vanished, to be replaced by an in-depth medical percep scan of the inside of Ripley’s head.
‘Okay,’ he told her, ‘we’re hot. I’m looking at your brain. The scanner’s also printing a lot of information next to the image, and there’s all sorts of option switches at the bottom of the screen.’
‘They’re to make the scan system-specific,’ she heard herself telling him. ‘You know—nervous system, circulatory. Like that. Let’s keep it as general as possible. Leave everything alone.’
‘No problem there.’ He stared in fascination at the screen. ‘What am I supposed to be looking for? I don’t know how to read this stuff.’
‘Ignore the printouts and concentrate on the visuals,’ she told him. ‘Where is it now?’
‘Moving down your neck. Am I supposed to see something?’
‘If it’s there, you’ll know it when you see it.’
‘Okay, but it all looks normal to me so far. Of course, I’m not Clemens.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ she told him. ‘You won’t have to be.’
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