Aliens vs Predator Omnibus

by Steve Perry

  “I didn’t realize this was Sodom and Gomorrah,” said Attila dryly.

  Machiko watched as the android sipped at his beer, amused. Attila could drink as much as he wanted without effect. He almost literally had a “hollow leg.” And these guys hadn’t seemed to realize yet he was an android. Of course, it was rare one could, unless the law was to have androids marked… and there was no such law here.

  “What? You gotta be kiddin’ me. You get in a bunch of rowdy and rich men to shoot it up during the day, and you’re going to have to keep them entertained at night. Pretty easy, that. Some gambling, some girls—and lots of drink!”

  “I can spare a little time,” said Machiko. She felt herself relax slightly. Daniels’s good-natured response to getting tossed on his face amused her. A yautja would have demanded immediate satisfaction of honor in a tooth-and-nail battle to the Death. Calm down kid, she told herself. You’ve changed, remember? She invited her guests to sit down. Sanchez sat quietly and compactly, but Daniels sprawled out over the couch, feet up on the coffee table, completely at home. “How long have you been in town?” Machiko asked.

  “A whole three days,” said Daniels. “We’ve got ourselves a company of about fifteen total now, including you.” He belted a laugh, then a long swig of beer. “And let me tell you, I never did see such a mangy collection of misfits in my life.”

  “Oh? I’m pretty impressed so far by you two.”

  “Us? Oh, yeah. Mind you, we’ve all got the experience and pedigree and what have you, and I guess we’ve all seen our share of action. I’m just generally talking about the social level of the other guys. Mercenaries. Real pigs.” He opened his mouth and let loose a long and satisfying belch without excusing himself. Then he took another drink.

  “Did we come for a tiddlywinks tournament?” Machiko asked.

  “Well,” said Attila, “perhaps tiddlywinks and tea.”

  Dick Daniels looked at Attila for a moment, mouth open. Then he started laughing, and slapping his knee. “Good. Damned good. Tea! Hey, Ned, you think that Evanston can rustle up some tea for—what did you say your name was, guy?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce you. This is…” Machiko caught herself. “Attila. Oscar Attila, my assistant and personal secretary.”

  Obviously not feeling like getting up again, Daniels assayed a brief salute. “Howdy there, Mr. Attila.” Ned nodded as well. Machiko noticed that the handsome man seemed to be retracting even further into some private space. Daniels seemed to have plenty of scars on his exterior, but Sanchez seemed to have his own as well, albeit on his interior.

  It made her wonder about him. He seemed to resonate on some level that intrigued her. The fact that he was merely polite to her, taking no other particular interest in her except as the woman who was going to command him, pricked her ego slightly—and made her wonder why.

  She made a mental note to have a talk with him sometime during this visit. Obviously she wouldn’t get much from him now, especially with Daniels ingenuously clogging the airwaves.

  Still, with the man so freely dispensing information, she figured she should probably tap what she could.

  And, as always, men talked more when they had a bootful.

  “You know, Dick,” she said, smiling, “I once knew a guy who reminded me of you.”

  “Oh. How so?”

  “Big. Brave. Strong and obviously a man of the universe, as it were. I admired that man a lot.”

  Daniels responded with a cocky grin and a pleased twinkle of the eye. The approval he’d so desperately wanted was his, offered on a satin pillow.

  “One big difference.”

  Double take. “Oh? What?”

  “He drank a lot more beer. And a lot faster. He’d have that beer done by now.”

  “Sheeee—it,” said Daniels. “I’m just sippin’, to be polite.”

  The gauntlet clearly thrown down, Daniels smirked. Refilled his mug. Upended.

  The remainder of the liquid, at least a pint and a half by Machiko’s estimation, slid past his big, bobbing Adam’s apple, very little indeed slopping over his lips and rolling down his cheeks, or snorting up his nose.

  Daniels clapped down the large mug, red-faced but satisfied. “There you go.”

  “I am truly impressed.” She was indeed. Within moments the man’s face was noticeably redder. “My other friend didn’t drink that fast.”

  Another burp interrupted the conversation.

  Machiko sipped her own drink, pursing her lips thoughtfully… and then thought, What the hell, let’s go for it.

  “We seem to be alone,” she gestured around inclusively. “We can talk now. We seem to be a bunch of pretty powerful troubleshooters. What seems to be the trouble?”

  Daniels blinked a little blearily, accepting the next cup from Attila. “Crap. The bastard didn’t tell you?”

  “Let’s just say I’m more interested in what he told you.”

  “Fuckin’ bugs. That’s what the trouble is. That’s the biggest trouble I’ve heard of on all these planets.” Daniels developed a slightly gray pallor. “Fuckin’ bugs. Don’t know how the hell they got here. Only with bugs, you never do, do you?”

  “And that’s the only trouble?”

  “Far as I know… Oh, shit—well, there’s the hunters, the rich assholes who think they know which end of a gun the bullet or whatever come out of. Evanston knows he’s going to have some accidents, which is why he sets ’em up with training and insurance, even though right now he’s not legally bound for nothin’. Nope, there’s plenty enough trouble not to buy any, I’ll tell you.”

  “No sign of other kinds of ‘iffy’ activity? Any other kind of trouble?”

  Daniels, for the first time, looked concerned. “Hey, lady. Aren’t the bugs enough? Shee—it I’ve been in all kinds of action. And bugs are the worse.”

  “But you’re willing to face them again,” said Machiko.

  “For the money we’re getting, and the treatment? Not really.” The affable look was still gone, replaced by a startlingly sober expression for one getting into a drunk. “Look, this ain’t just for the money. I guess the truth is, Evanston’s offerin’ me a home. A goddamned family. This pirate looked at forty a long time ago, and it’s about time to commit to a goddamned bar stool. Eh, Ned?” He elbowed his companion, his good nature again suffusing his face.

  Ned just shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

  “That’s damned right. And I’d like to know if yours are any different.”

  “Evanston got me out of the Company.”

  Daniels raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

  The lug seemed honestly interested. Machiko found herself relaxing even more.

  “I don’t know about family, I don’t know about home—What I do know is that this is better than pushing papers. Would you agree?”

  There wasn’t a fighting person who wouldn’t agree with that. No reason that Machiko had to hide anything with these guys.

  “Sure,” said Daniels. “But, hell, I got my fighting experience in the Marines, and Ned here’s been after the bugs all his life. Where’d you get your experience?”

  “Well, I’m a trained martial-arts expert, and I did time in officer’s school—and I dealt with the bugs on a planet called Ryushi,” said Machiko.

  Daniels’s mouth dropped. “Damn! Isn’t that the planet where nearly everybody got wiped—”

  “Not this body.”

  Daniels said nothing. He seemed to be trying to grope with something, like coughing up some other memory he had on the subject. He didn’t seem to be successful, so he just took another chug of beer instead.

  A flicker of interest grew in Ned Sanchez’s eyes.

  There was a knock on the door. “Hey. Guys. We hear noise. What’s going on in there? A party?” The voice was thin, whiny, and annoying.

  Daniels slapped his face. “Jeez, it’s Lou MacCraken. He can smell fun a kilometer away and then comes to
ruin it for everyone. Don’t let him in, Ms. Noguchi.”

  “Is he one of the troubleshooters?”

  “Yep. And if there’s no trouble, hell attract it.”

  “Then I should meet him.”

  She told Attila to open the door. A tall, gangly man came in with a big wide smile and a long nose. He had a shorter, curly-haired Neapolitan sort with him, who already had a bulb of beer in his hand. Introductions were made. MacCraken’s friend’s name was Mishka Marino.

  “Glad to meet you,” said Machiko. “Would you like a beer?”

  “No. I don’t drink,” said MacCraken, eyes shining with a kind of goofy glee. “Give Marino something, though. He drinks.”

  “Only with one hand, Lou.”

  “That’s so he can grab the guys. And the gals. Right, Marino? Better watch out, Ms. Noguchi. You’re his type. You’re all his type.”

  Marino rolled his eyes as MacCraken cackled a high-pitched laugh.

  Machiko cringed a bit and looked over to Daniels as though to say, You’re right; where did Evanston get this geek?

  Still, this manic guy was entertaining if you didn’t take him too seriously, and the conversation progressed. With the right questions Machiko drew out some little essentials about Evanstonville and Livermoreland that only a few days’ stay could have obtained.

  For one thing, not only had Evanston hired a great many workers and started up a colonist movement to this planet, he had somehow tapped the resources of the corporation in terms of expertise, just as he had done with Machiko. There were apparently a good many “four eyes” here—a Marine bit of slang for technicians and scientists. Many of them, Daniels said, worked in the factory and really didn’t mix much with the rest of the community.

  Machiko tried to milk them all for more information about that factory but came up totally dry. These guys hadn’t even gotten close to the thing, nor were they particularly interested in doing so. They were obviously thrilled with their jobs, not so much because of the bugs, who obtained the unhealthy respect they deserved, but because of the environment here and the perks involved.

  They talked about the other people who’d been selected. All seemed to have similar backgrounds: soldiers of fortune mostly, experience with bugs, a mercenary bent with an inclination to settle down in a place that had its share of thrills and excitement. Evanston must have promised them a place in his structure here, just as soon as the little problem was gone. Guides. Battle technicians. Simulators. Whatever. This was just their kind of place, no question—a paradise for men with a trade in violence, who hankered for some peace of mind.

  “I look forward to meeting the others,” said Machiko finally.

  “Should I round them up?” asked Lou eagerly, excess energy radiating from him.

  “Uh—no. No, I confess that—ah—Mr. Attila and I are a bit tired. And I, alas, have had my share of beer already. Tomorrow. Formally. It’s been great meeting you guys informally, but let’s just call it a day, all right?”

  “Sounds good to me.” said Daniels, getting up and scratching his butt.

  “One last question, though,” said Machiko. “It would seem that the bugs would be perfect hunting material, the ultimate experience. Do you think maybe Evanston planned to use them this way, and they got out of control?”

  Daniels raised an eyebrow. “With all respect, ma’am, anyone who hunts bugs for sport has either got to be crazy, suicidal—or maybe just a little buglike themselves.”

  From the mouths of lumbering bruisers, thought Machiko.

  They bade their adieus and filed out to find whatever other fun they could.

  Ned Sanchez was the last one.

  “Mr. Sanchez,” said Machiko, putting a hand on his arm.

  “Ned would be fine,” he said easily, his dark eyes unreadable.

  “You don’t talk much. I get the feeling you might know more about this operation than the others.”

  His face remained expressionless. “I get the feeling you know more than all of us combined.”

  She shrugged and let him go.

  But the parting seemed incomplete. She wanted to know more of what this man knew. She wanted to know more about Ned Sanchez, period.

  11

  “You’ve been holding out on me,” said Attila above the whir of the blades.

  “Oh?” She adjusted her headset so she could hear him properly. “How so?”

  “You never told me you could fly a copter.”

  She shrugged. “The way they make these things these days, it only takes a couple of engram imprints, some virt/real lessons, and then some hands-on.” She smiled at him. “I bet we could just plug a new program into you and you could do it, too. Fact, I bet you could do it right now.” She pushed a button. The steering wheel came off and she handed it to him.

  He looked alarmed for a moment, and then he handed it back. “Ha ha ha. It’s on automatic, isn’t it?”

  “Glad to see I haven’t lost my sense of humor?” she said.

  “Actually, I’m glad you haven’t lost control of this craft!” Even though he didn’t have the right sort of circulatory system, it was clear that Attila was white-knuckling the ride. She didn’t blame him at all. She was swooping around a bit too much. Well, she’d keep the grav copter on a steady keel for a while.

  It was the afternoon of the day after they had arrived on this world, and already they were out looking for trouble.

  Machiko had requisitioned the vehicle that morning. Evanston had advised against looking over the terrain quite yet, but he’d been too busy catching up on other affairs to give her any real orders, so she’d talked him into at least letting her take a look at the surrounding environs, to get a feel for the lie of the land.

  The other troubleshooters were out on maneuvers. She and Attila had joined them briefly. She’d met them but hadn’t said much. They were pretty much as Daniels had said: worn mercenaries, looking for a home. She’d given them the usual patter: good to meet you, let’s get this job done and done right, blah blah blah. Fortunately, her enthusiasm was real. All this was so much better than tapping input into a computer and riding herd on corporate mining nonsense.

  And the possibility that she’d be dead next week, acid rotting out her brain? All the sweeter, because of the sharpened sense of life that she felt now.

  They were in tree territory… alien trees, a kind of deciduous rain forest with large patches of plains and rivers. Wild, wild, with herds of native creatures glimpsed here and there and bright, vivid colors poking through the general green and brown.

  “I wonder what kind of ecologists Evanston hired,” said Attila.

  “You think he’s thought that far ahead?”

  “Oh, yes, he would have to. There’s no need to terraform this place, but its life-forms are complex enough to take great consideration, especially if he’s introducing new species.”

  “He’s probably got a lot more on his mind now than just that.”

  “Probably. Nonetheless, he was talking about settling this whole planet—”

  “He’s most likely not too worried, since he’s only settling a continent at a time. This one he figures he can mess up.”

  “A shame. It looks quite nice the way it is.”

  “I think that’s the idea. A whole island continent for hunters to joyously plunder, free from restrictions and rules.”

  “Paradise.”

  “Or hell.”

  “Depends on your point of view.”

  Machiko thought for a while as the verdant land swept under the rotors and body of the copter.

  “Til, something’s going on here, something more than Evanston’s told us about,” she said finally.

  Attila nodded. “I think we should talk about that. Put the pieces together…”

  “I’m almost afraid to.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Sure you do. It’s that gift-horse phenomenon.”

  “Yeah. But still—it’s better t
han where I came from.”

  Attila sniffed. “We’ll see about that.”

  “What, you want to go back?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m just performing my function.”

  “What? Being a goddamned stick in the mud?”

  “No. Being someone you can bounce ideas off of. Still, I’m entitled to my opinions, right?”

  “I can think of a few other things to bounce off of you at this moment.”

  “You’d be so lonely without me.” He smiled. Needling was such a gentle revenge. Machiko knew that deep down in his masochistic heart, Attila was rather enjoying it. Truth was, he was probably just wondering if he’d have to actually transform all that theory he was brimming with into practicality—and if the wise sage would get reduced to rubble in the process.

  “Well, nothing untoward so far on sensors. You wouldn’t have noticed anything, would you, with your special little nodes?”

  “A great many things, but nothing that sends needles into the red.”

  “We’ll just bank and take a look at the northwest quadrant awhile and then go back, okay?”

  Attila nodded. “Fair enough.”

  The android didn’t seem in a real hurry to get back to the fun and games of Evanstonville; he was just clearly not thrilled with being aloft, flying over unknown territory.

  The wild land swept below them, a verdant carpet of mysterious life. Machiko perused it in silence. Such a huge area. How could they possibly hope to find any sign, any clue of what was going on there in just a quick field trip?

  Nonetheless, they did.

  She was about to call it a day when Attila spoke up. “I hate to admit this, but I see something.”

  “Where?”

  He gave her the navigational reading, and she checked it on her scope.

  Activity in a clearing.

  Small things.

  Big thing.

  “Whoa!” she said, pulling up short and hovering for a moment. She thought about it and then lowered to a position still within sight of the scene, but far enough away not to attract undue attention. Then she punched up sensor screens and thumbed her telescopic step-ups.