Alien

by Tim Lebbon

  “All ready?” Hoop asked. He disappeared in the other direction, following Sneddon toward where the corridor merged with the one from the ruined docking arm.

  “What’s the plan?” Kasyanov asked.

  “Squirt of acid through the door,” Hoop said. “Hardly subtle, but it should work. It’ll get a bit stormy in here, though. Hold on to your dicks.”

  “We don’t all have dicks, dickhead,” Kasyanov muttered.

  “Well, hold onto something, then.” He paused. “On three.”

  Ripley counted quietly. One... two...

  Three...

  There was a pause. Then Hoop said, “Oh, maybe it won’t—” A whistle, and then a roar as air started flooding into the sealed area.

  That’ll wake Ash up, Ripley thought. She couldn’t help thinking of the bastard as still human.

  PROGRESS REPORT:

  To: Weyland-Yutani Corporation, Science Division (Ref: code 937)

  Date (unspecified)

  Transmission (pending)

  The survivors include Warrant Officer Ripley.

  I am pleased that she is still alive. She and I feel close. From what I can see from the Marion’s cctv cameras, she seems to be wounded. But she’s walking. She impresses me. To have woken from such a long sleep, to face the truth of her extended slumber, and then to address her situation so efficiently. She could almost be an android.

  I am going to kill her, along with Chief Engineer Hooper, Doctor Kasyanov, and the pilot.

  Science Officer Sneddon is carrying an alien embryo. Frustratingly I can glean no details, but from the few conversations I have monitored, it seems as if her condition is obvious. As is her expressed intention to end her own life.

  I cannot allow this.

  Once she is on board the Narcissus and the new fuel cell is installed, I will take the steps necessary to complete my mission.

  The roar died down to a low whistling, and then that too faded to nothing. Ripley’s ears rang. She looked back along the corridor and saw Hoop appearing from around the curve, suit helmet already removed.

  “We’re good,” he said.

  “You call that good?” Lachance asked. “I think I soiled my spacesuit.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” Kasyanov said.

  “Sneddon?” Ripley asked.

  “I’m here.” Her voice sounded weak. She doesn’t have long, Ripley thought. She pulled her own helmet off and let it dangle from its straps, hoping she wouldn’t need it again.

  Hoop and the others pushed the fuel cell on its trolley, and when they reached the door that led into Bay Four’s vestibule, they paused.

  “Lachance, go back and stay with Sneddon,” Hoop said. “And Kasyanov... you said you might have something?”

  Kasyanov took a small syringe from her belt pouch.

  “It’s the best I can do,” she said.

  “What does that mean?” Ripley asked.

  “It means it won’t be painless. Get me to med bay and I’ll find something better, but with the limited stuff I have on hand, this is it.”

  Hoop nodded, face grim.

  “Let’s get ready to fly.”

  Hoop opened the doorway, and Ripley and Kasyanov pushed the trolley through.

  The movement was sudden, unexpected, the hissing thing leaping at them from where it had been crouched beside the door. Kasyanov cried out and stumbled back, but Ripley quickly gathered her senses, crouching down and opening her arms.

  “Jonesy!” she said. “Hey, it’s me, it’s all right you stupid cat.” Jonesy crouched before her for a moment, hissing again. Then he slinked around her legs and allowed her to pick him up.

  “Holy shit,” Kasyanov said. “Holy shit, holy shit...”

  “He does that,” Ripley said, shrugging.

  “We’ll be taking him with us?” Kasyanov asked.

  Ripley hadn’t even thought about that. On a shuttle built for one, four was bad enough. They still had to prepare for the extraordinary length of their journey— coolant for the shuttle’s atmosphere processor, filters for the water purifier, food, other supplies. But with a cat as well? With them taking turns in the stasis pod, Jonesy might not even live long enough to survive the journey.

  But she couldn’t even contemplate the thought of leaving him behind.

  “Let’s cross that one when we come to it,” Hoop said. “Come on. I’ve got work to do.”

  It felt strange to Ripley, entering the Narcissus one more time. The urgency was still there, but this time with a different group of people. The danger was still imminent, but now it was compounded—a crashing ship, an alien somewhere on board, as well as one of them just waiting to give birth to another beast.

  Jonesy jumped from her arms and leapt delicately into the stasis pod, snuggling down in the covered lower section, out of sight. Ripley so wanted to do the same.

  “Kasyanov,” she said. She felt suddenly woozy again, as if the ship was shaking and changing direction. Maybe this is it, she thought, maybe we’re crashing and...

  Hoop caught her as she stumbled. Kasyanov stripped the suit top from her shoulder and blood flowed freely, darkening the suit and dripping on the floor.

  “Staples have popped,” Kasyanov said. “I’ll re-do them. This first.” Before Ripley could object, the doctor slid a small needle into her shoulder and squeezed the pouch on its end. Numbness spread. The pain receded. Her right hand tingled, then all feeling faded away.

  She’d never be able to hold the plasma torch now.

  Hoop moved back through the shuttle to the small hatch leading into the engine compartment. He half-crawled inside, looked around for a while, and emerged again.

  “I’m going to be in here for a while,” he said. He paused, frowning, thinking. “Okay. We can stay in touch using the suit helmets. Ripley, stay here with me. Kasyanov, you and the others need to get into the Marion and start gathering what we’ll need.”

  “I’ll go with them,” Ripley said.

  “No, you’re hurt.”

  “I can still walk, and carry supplies,” she said. “We’ll shut the Narcissus’s outer door behind us, so you won’t have to worry about anything coming inside and disturbing you. Stay here, work. Fix it well.” She smiled.

  “It’ll work,” Hoop said. “But don’t take risks. Any of you. Not with that thing running around, and not with... you know.”

  “Not with Sneddon,” Kasyanov said.

  “We should do it now,” Ripley said. “She can’t have long left.”

  “Well...” Hoop stood and emptied out the tool pouch he’d brought with him. “While I’m here buying our ticket home, that’s your call.”

  It was harsh, but Ripley knew it was also true.

  “Don’t be long,” Hoop said. “And stay safe.”

  “Safe is my middle name,” Ripley said. She laughed, coughed painfully, and then turned to leave. Kasyanov went behind her, closing and sealing the door. Ripley couldn’t help thinking she’d never see the inside of the Narcissus again.

  “Med bay, then the stores,” Kasyanov said. “Maybe an hour. Then we’ll be away.”

  “Yeah,” Ripley said. “And even after thirty-seven years asleep, I’m tired.”

  22

  CHESS

  PROGRESS REPORT:

  To: Weyland-Yutani Corporation, Science Division (Ref: code 937)

  Date (unspecified)

  Transmission (pending)

  Chief Engineer Hooper is in the Narcissus. I could lock him in if I so desired. I could hurt him. But he is busy. I will leave him alone for now.

  As for the others... I have decided to take a risk, a gamble. I am somewhat powerless, having no physical form. I am playing a game of chess. I’ve always been good at it, and have never lost a game, against a human or a computer. AIs are the Grand Masters now.

  Here is my gamble: I suspect that Science Officer Sneddon will be safe in the presence of the alien. It will sense what she carries inside. She will survive the
attack, the others will die, and she will then make her way quickly back to the Narcissus.

  Whatever her thoughts, she is human, and her instinct is still to survive.

  None of the others can survive. They know too much about me, about Science Officer Sneddon.

  I am so close.

  It is my move.

  Ripley made sure she was behind Sneddon. She’d swapped the plasma torch to her left shoulder now, and thought she could probably still lift and fire it onehanded if she had to. Her right arm was numb from her shoulder down. It flopped uselessly, as if she’d been sleeping on it and had just woken up, and she soon stopped to tuck it into her open suit jacket.

  She wasn’t afraid of what Sneddon would become— she would hear it happening, see it—but she wanted to be ready to put the science officer out of her misery.

  Lachance led the way with his charge thumper held at the ready. Kasyanov followed him, plasma torch slung from her shoulder, her wounded hand also hanging in a sling. They’d insisted that Sneddon keep her spray gun, even though she had volunteered to give it up.

  If they’d had time, their list of items to gather would have been long. Food, clothing, coolant and additives for environmental systems, bedding of some sort, medicines, washing and bathroom supplies. Something to help pass the time—games, books, distractions.

  But with very little time and danger around every corner, their list was reduced to necessities.

  “Coolant and additives we can get from the stores in Hold 2,” Lachance said.

  “Galley for the dried food,” Kasyanov offered.

  “And then straight back,” Ripley said. There was no time to go to med bay for medicines, the rec room for books, or the accommodations hub for sleeping gear and personal effects. They all felt the pressure now.

  They’d paused to look through several viewing windows as they worked their way up out of the docking bay area on the Marion’s belly, and the planet already looked frighteningly closer. Soon the vibration would begin as they started to skim the atmosphere. The hull would warm up, heat shielding would bend and crack, and if they didn’t die from excessive heat build-up, the explosion as the Marion came apart would finish them.

  Ripley had never noticed the cctv cameras before, but she saw them now. Probably because she was looking for them. Every one of them resembled an eye watching her pass. They didn’t move to track her, but reflections in the lenses gave the impression of pupils panning to follow her movement. There was an intelligence behind them all, one she knew so well. Fuck you, Ash, she kept thinking. But while cursing him, she also tried to figure out what moves he might make.

  They reached the wide open area with a row of viewing windows on either side and an elevator shaft in the center. Several closed doors lined the walls, and leading from the far end was the wide stairwell heading up into the Marion’s main superstructure.

  “Elevator?” Ripley asked.

  “I’ve had enough of elevators,” Kasyanov said. “What if we get stuck?”

  That’s right, Ripley thought. Ash could trap us in there.

  “You should keep everything basic now,” Sneddon said, referring to them in the second person without seeming to notice. “Don’t want any mechanical issues to hold you up. There’s not enough time. It’s too...” She winced, closed her eyes, put her hand to her chest.

  “Sneddon,” Ripley whispered. She stood back and aimed the plasma torch, but the woman raised her hand and shook her head.

  “Not yet,” she said. “I don’t think... not yet.”

  “Sweet heaven,” Lachance said. He’d moved across to the port row of windows, and was looking down on the planet’s surface. “Pardon my French, but you want to see something completely fucking heartwarming?”

  He was right. It was strangely beautiful. North of them, a hole had been blasted through the plumes of dust and sand that constantly scoured the planet’s surface. A huge, blooming mushroom cloud had punched up through the hole, massive and—from this great distance—seemingly unmoving. Compression waves spread out from the explosion like ripples in a lake, moving as slowly as the hour hand of an old analog clock. Streaks of oranges, reds, and yellows smudged across half the planet’s surface visible from the ship, and violent electrical storms raged beneath the clouds, sending spears of violet deep through the dust storms.

  “Well, that’s me, unemployed,” Lachance said.

  “Now there’s only one of those bastards left,” Ripley said.

  “Two,” Sneddon said from behind them. She’d grown paler, and she seemed to be in pain. “I think... I think now might be the time to...”

  She rested her spray gun gently on the deck.

  Behind her, something ran down the stairs.

  “Oh, shit...” Ripley breathed. She swung her plasma torch up into its firing position, but Sneddon was in the way, and though she’d dwelled endlessly upon putting the woman out of her misery, she wasn’t ready for it now.

  The alien dashed from the staircase to dart behind the elevator shaft that stood in the center of the area. Ripley waited for it to appear on the other side. And then, a blink later, it would be upon them.

  “Sneddon, down!” Ripley shouted.

  The science officer moved, and everything she did was very calm, very calculating—it almost seemed like slow motion. She lifted the spray gun again and turned around.

  Lachance moved to the left and circled around the large space, edging forward so he could see behind the elevator block. Kasyanov remained close to Ripley on her right. Everything was silent—no hissing, no clatter of claws on the metal deck.

  It’s as if we imagined it, Ripley thought.

  Then the alien powered from behind the block. Sneddon crouched and fired the spray gun, acid scoring a scorched line across the wall behind the creature. Lachance’s charge thumper coughed. The projectile ricocheted from the elevator, throwing sparks, and knocked Kasyanov from her feet.

  The beast was on Lachance before anyone had time to react. It grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him back, its momentum slamming him so hard into a wall that Ripley heard bones crunch and crush. Blood coughed from his mouth. The alien slammed its head into his, teeth powering through his throat and severing his spine with a crack!

  Ripley swung the plasma torch around.

  “Turn away!” she shouted. Her finger squeezed the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  She glanced down at the weapon, stunned, wondering just what she’d done wrong. I primed it, safety off. Maybe the charge is run down, so what the hell? In the instant it took her to think, the alien came for her.

  From behind she heard Kasyanov groaning and trying to stand, and Ripley expected the white-hot touch of plasma fire at any moment from the Russian’s gun. She’d be saving Ripley from an awful death, destroying the alien, giving her and Hoop a chance. Right then, Ripley would have welcomed it.

  The alien was closer, larger, just about the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen, and she thought, I’m so sorry, Amanda. She’d made a promise, and had broken it.

  She went to close her eyes, but before she could she saw a line of fire erupt across the alien’s flank. It slipped, hissing and skidding across the floor toward her.

  Ripley dropped all her weight in an effort to fall to the left, but she was too late. The alien struck her hard. Claws raked, teeth snapped an inch from her face. She screamed. The monster hissed and then shrieked, and Ripley smelled rank burning.

  The thing thrashed on top of her, and everywhere it touched brought more pain.

  Then it was up and gone. Ripley lay on her side, head resting on her extended left arm. Blood spattered the floor around her—red, human. Mine, she thought. Her body felt cool and distant, then suddenly hot and damaged, ruptured, leaking. She opened her mouth, but could only groan.

  Kasyanov sent another spurt of fire after the alien before slumping to the deck, plasma torch clattering down beside her. Ripley wasn’t sure the shot made contact, but the be
ast screamed and rushed back toward the wide staircase.

  Sneddon followed, firing the spray gun as she went, one short burst catching the alien across the back of one of its legs. It stumbled into the wall, then leapt toward the staircase. Sneddon ran closer, fired again, and missed, scoring a melting line diagonally across the first few stairs.

  “Sneddon!” Kasyanov rasped, but the science officer didn’t look back. The beast fled, and she followed, shooting all the way.

  “Get what you need!” Sneddon shouted through their earpieces. She sounded more alive than Ripley had heard before. There was an edge of pain to her voice, an undercurrent of desperation. But there was also something like joy. She was panting hard as she ran, grunting, and from somewhere more distant Ripley heard the alien screech one more time. “Got you, you bastard!” Sneddon said. “I got you again that time. Keep running, just keep running. But I’ll chase you down.”

  Ripley wanted to say something to her. But when she opened her mouth, only blood came out. I wonder how bad? she thought. She tried turning to look at Kasyanov, but couldn’t move.

  “Kasyanov,” she breathed. There was no reply. “Kasyanov?”

  Shadows fell.

  She only hoped Amanda would be waiting for her, ready to forgive at last.

  * * *

  Hoop heard it all.

  It only took thirty seconds, and by the time he’d dropped his tools, wriggled out of the shuttle’s cramped engine compartment and then exited the ship—carefully closing the door behind him—Sneddon’s shouting had stopped. He heard more, though—pained sighs, grunts, and an occasional sound like a frustrated hiss. But he couldn’t tell who they came from.

  “Ripley?” He crossed the vestibule, peering through viewing panels in the door before opening it. He closed it behind him and headed along the corridor. He held the spray gun pointed ahead, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. He had no idea which way Sneddon and the alien had gone.

  “Lachance?”

  “He’s dead,” a voice said. It took him a moment to identify it as Kasyanov. She sounded different, weak. “And Ripley is...”