Her leg already in ruins, the mercenary howled and tried to back up even further.
Up above, Manning was bellowing for them to retreat, though he wasn’t moving himself. Decker wanted to shout back, wanted to demand to know where he was supposed to go, but part of him understood that the words were meant for the soldiers below, the ones who were trapped in the way of the incidental acid bath that was coming their way.
Still burning, still screaming, Kelso pushed herself higher still as the second black shape fell lifelessly into the tunnel. Manning climbed, making room for Decker, Adams, and the merc behind her to follow suit. There was no choice, really. They could stay where they were and let the people under them die, or they could try to make a little more space, and hope it was enough.
It wasn’t. The hole was still there, and even as Decker climbed it gave birth to another black nightmare. The shape was fast and it was savage and it came into the tunnel moving at a hard clip without slowing down.
Kelso tried to fire again, but the thing was there too fast, and its limbs nearly blurred as it shredded her armor and the flesh beneath. She screamed through the process but never fired another round. It clawed past her bloodied corpse, letting her fall with the other dead, onto the people below.
And then there was one man between Adams and Decker and the savagery that was coming for him.
Suddenly the world went bright and the monster fell back shrieking, its head a molten ruin. As it fell it bled, and the bottleneck of corpses and struggling mercenaries received another acid bath. Plasma. It had to be.
And then the attacks stopped. The mercenaries below pushed and clawed their way past the broken dead, climbing the bodies of their fellows, desperate to avoid the burning fluids and the crushing weight of four dead bodies. They screamed and groaned in the process, some wounded, others merely panicking and justifiably desperate to escape.
“Where the hell did they come from?” Manning’s voice cut through everything else. The man under Adams pointed to the opening and spoke into his comm-link. Decker didn’t hear the words. He was too busy looking at the hole, waiting for whatever would come from it next. He tried to tell if there were more of the damned things nearby, but he couldn’t separate out the sensory input. The emotions were too loud, perhaps.
That, or there were no more of the things around.
For now.
Adams was half pinned against him in the narrow tunnel, and she looked into his face for a moment before touching his arm. “Come on, we’re going down.”
“What?”
“Nico says that hole in the top opens into a bigger area—he climbed up there to get out of the way of that last monster. It’s empty now. We’re going to check it out.”
Decker looked down. Nico must have been close behind Adams, and he was dropping back down from above. Beyond him, the mercs were still working their way past the tangle of dead and wounded.
“What the hell are we going to do in there?”
Adams shrugged. “Regroup.”
He looked up toward the merc leader, who nodded his agreement.
“The tunnel’s only getting narrower up here—if they hit us again, we’ll be dead.” He pointed to the opening in the ceiling. “Move it! Come on, let’s get this going.”
Decker followed orders. Sometimes there’s no choice. His life seemed to be made of moments like that lately.
* * *
Maybe five minutes later Manning called roll.
They were all gathered in a cylindrical open space, and compared to what they had left, it was like a luxury accommodation. They could stand and there was room to move. Of course there was also room for other things to happen and so several of the team moved to guard the different areas where there were openings into the chamber.
Seven of them had been hurt by the creature’s claws or the blood spilling across them. Kelso wasn’t hurt—she was dead, and so were three more besides, people whose names Decker had never learned. They had to leave the bodies, which were too covered in acid. Somewhere—probably far below—the thing they had captured earlier was once again on its own, having been dropped in the chaos.
No one offered to retrieve it.
“You have any idea how screwed we are?” A merc whose nametag said “Brumby” was peering down into the tunnel they’d vacated. “They’re the same color as everything around us. They have the same sort of texture. They decide to hide, we’re going to be lucky to see them at all.
“We are so screwed,” he repeated.
Manning looked at Decker for a long moment and then spoke up.
“And that’s why we want to keep our good buddy here alive and well. He’s our little early warning device. He may not be perfect, but he’s known both times these things were coming.” He held out a headset, and Decker took it. “I want you wearing this from now on.”
Decker looked around. Everyone else still had a headset.
Where’d this come from? he wondered. Then he knew. Kelso.
Brumby shook his head. “Where are we going from here?”
“Sooner or later we’re going to reach the ship, or the mines,” Manning answered. “Likely sooner, if I’ve estimated the distance right. Once we do, we’ll get the hell out of these tunnels.” He looked over all of the wounded as he spoke, assessing their injuries. It looked to Decker as if most of them were able to walk at least. “We get back to the cavern, we gather the rest of the team, and we get the hell out of here.”
“What about the aliens?” Decker’s mouth was flapping before he really thought about it.
“What about them?”
“We are supposed to get specimens.” There. He’d said it. “That’s what we’re here for.”
Manning stared at him long and hard. He didn’t say a word.
Adams spoke up instead.
“Pretty sure we’re going to have more chances there, Decker. I don’t think you need to sweat it.”
But I do, he thought. I really do. I can’t go home without them, not if I want to have a home to go to. And ultimately that was true. If he wanted his family safe, he needed an alien.
Once they had one, let Weyland-Yutani worry about how to get it home in one piece. Get it through the quarantine, past the Colonial Marines. Pay off everyone they needed to pay off. How they did it…
He didn’t give a damn.
Manning spoke up at last.
“We all know why we’re here, Mister Decker,” he said, and he spat out the name as if it tasted bad. “No one gets paid by the hour on this assignment. We all know what’s at stake.”
Decker stared hard, nodded, and said no more. For a while there was relative peace as the mercenaries tended to the wounded and worked on the best possible route to get the hell away from the very things they were hunting.
27
NEGOTIATIONS
Willis didn’t go far. He just needed a little privacy.
The group hanging around near the hub was a bit too large. Once away from them, he activated the comm-link he’d been given when the Kiangya came into orbit.
This was so much bigger than anyone could have hoped. An entire city worth of relics wasn’t far away, and that had to be worth more fortunes than most people could ever imagine. And the living alien life-forms. Whatever they were, they put a different spin on everything. The Colonial government was decidedly opposed to any first contact scenario that occurred without their involvement. Weyland-Yutani knew that, of course.
And the people on the surface of New Galveston—they knew it, too. That posed quite a problem.
He needed to make sure that things were kept properly quiet. But it was hard, trying to be in charge of a situation when he was trapped beneath the surface, waiting for the lift.
One call in private, and he could get that taken care of.
Maybe.
Rollins answered almost immediately.
He looked around to make sure that no one was close enough to hear him. No one seemed to care, actually. They w
ere justifiably interested in the creatures they were studying.
Nevertheless, he moved to the far side of the van, and looked back toward the dig site.
“Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can hear you, Mister Willis.” Rollins’s voice was calm, and carried a tone of authority that Willis found very attractive. He had always been drawn to strong women.
“We’ve acquired two separate active life-forms down here. We also have a much larger archeological find than originally believed.”
There was a notable pause.
“How much larger?”
“Perhaps a full city. More than a town. An ancient, extraterrestrial city. Doctor Silas believes the ship we found might have been taking off when it crashed.”
“Continue.”
“We need to renegotiate, Ms. Rollins.” He needed to be firm about that. Willis had plans, and those plans included moving much higher in the chain of command.
There was a long silence again, long enough to make him wonder if he’d overstepped his boundaries.
“I’m afraid I’ll need more information than you’ve provided thus far,” she said. To his relief, she didn’t sound upset. “All you’ve told me is that there’s a city. Do you have any details?”
“It’s being mapped right now,” he lied. “Before long, I can get you complete readings.”
“Mister Willis, I already have access to those readings.”
“You do?”
“You aren’t the only person who is assisting me. I have the readings already.” He peered back toward the group.
Who could possibly…?
“That said, you can still be of value to this enterprise. We will need data to back-up the information that has been transmitted. And there are certain… arrangements that will need to be made planetside. You make the appropriate arrangements, and I believe we can discuss a change in our business arrangement.”
“Understood,” he replied, and he smiled.
He looked back at the mercenaries and the expedition and their collected dead things. Whatever she required, he would provide it. There was always a way.
He’d learned that a long time ago.
28
They were awake now. Truly awake, not merely moving while they dreamed. In the darkness they uncoiled themselves from the places where they’d rested and gone into dead-sleep.
For some of them the dead-sleep had gone on too long. They had slumbered and withered and reached a true death, their shells cracking, their lifeblood burning away. For others the sleep was a painful thing and awakening was agony on a level they’d have never conceived.
But they endured.
They thrived. They did what was necessary for the hive. Through their dark tunnels they heard the sounds of prey. Food, yes, but more importantly, hosts. There was still food in the older places. The desiccated remains of the creatures that had died long ago. It wasn’t much, but as long as they spent most of their time in sleep, it sufficed.
But the dead could not host the young. It took life to make life.
And now, at last, life had come again. Soft, and weak and mewling life that would be reborn into the hive.
Eggs had hatched, the breeders had done their work, and now the hosts moaned and made their soft sounds as they prepared to birth new children. And all around them the adults waited.
Not all of the adults.
Some had been sent to locate the destroyer. They moved and hissed and their voices chattered in the darkness. The very thought of the destroyer was enough to send shivers of rage through them. So many had been lost, and not even the long sleep could dull the pain. Most of the queens had been destroyed. Queens! Slaughtered! The lives of so many taken, including the sacred queens.
Most of them.
Not all.
Life prevailed.
And as long as life prevailed, they would hunt the destroyer, and keep their queen safe.
* * *
One of the hosts let out a feeble moan and jerked within the confines of the birthing webs.
A moment later lifeblood flowed, and the face of a newborn broke through into the world.
They moved to protect it. The young were so vulnerable.
And the queen in her chamber let out a note of approval.
And all was right with the world.
Or it would be, when the destroyer had been dealt with.
Soon.
Soon.
They were patient. They had to be.
Life prevails.
29
DIGNITY
Dwadji and Cho were taking a break and eating, so Perkins settled back at the hub and listened to Manning’s orders. The boss man was pissed off, but he was holding it in.
He was trying to find his way back to the mines, and she was trying to help, but there wasn’t much she could do. The damned readings were all screwed up. His group was out there, but she couldn’t read vitals or get a fix on their location. The best she could manage was to bring him up to date on what was happening at the hub.
And after almost three hours of that, Cho came and relieved her.
When she sat down for chow the tension was thick. Lutz and Vogel were keeping an eye on the landscape while everyone else crashed and burned for a time. No one was sleeping, but they were trying to rest—especially Piotrowicz, whose burnt face was causing him a good deal of pain. He’d opted not to take anything for it. Dulled senses seldom helped in a crisis.
Doctor Silas was staring at the alien remains, with deep worry lines creasing his face. She almost asked him what he was thinking when he spoke.
“Has anyone secured… Colleen’s body?” he asked, keeping it together surprisingly well. A few of the mercs glanced at one another.
“Afraid not, Doc,” Vogel said.
“I see.” Silas nodded quietly, turned, and walked silently toward the ruined vehicle. Perkins grabbed a reaper and followed him.
The damage to the van was terminal. Two tires were flat, one completely shredded. Acid from the bugs had left several holes in the vehicle, and while they had stopped smoldering, they were simply too large to be patched. All the vehicle was good for now was spare parts—and not many of those.
Silas climbed into the van ahead of her, and seemed surprised by her presence when she climbed in behind him. He looked toward her for a moment and then managed a weak, apologetic smile.
“Colleen was a good person,” he said. “I just want to show her a bit of dignity.”
Perkins nodded. “Let me. Okay?” she said, and she slipped past him. “Let me, and when I’m done you can help me move her to a different location.”
He nodded his head and his face twisted into grief. He struggled with it, trying not to show his feelings, but it was obvious to Perkins that the dead woman was more than a colleague.
She’d been down that path a few times over the years. Walker had been her “special friend with benefits” before he got himself killed, and D’Angelo had been something even more before he decided he simply couldn’t live the lifestyle any longer. Sometimes, late at night when she was trying to sleep, she still hated him a little for that. She understood it, but she hated him just the same.
There were supplies on the vehicle, and among them she found a cloth sheet large enough to allow her to wrap the body. She was about to do so when Silas spoke, causing her to jump.
“Hold on a moment,” he said, and he moved closer, peering at the corpse’s chest wound. He reached out, hesitated for a moment, then rolled her over and looked at her back, frowning the entire time.
“What is it?” Perkins asked.
He frowned, grief replaced by curiosity… and something more. There was something else in his expression.
“It wasn’t friendly fire,” he said. “We thought it had to be, but it wasn’t. Whatever… whatever happened to Colleen, it wasn’t a gun blast at all.”
“How do you know?”
He pointed with a trembling hand.
“Look
carefully. That’s an exit wound. But there’s no entrance wound.” His frown deepened. “Whatever it was that killed her, it did so from inside of her body.”
He moved closer to the dead woman and his fingers carefully, ever so gently, examined her mouth and her neck. When he tried to move her face, she resisted. Rigor mortis had taken hold.
Nigel Silas cried silently as he continued to examine her body. Perkins stood with him and bit her tongue. She was a mercenary, and she fought wars for money. She refused to allow herself the luxury of crying for a woman she’d never met, or feeling pity for a man she didn’t know.
No matter how much she wanted to.
He stepped back and let her finish the task of wrapping Colleen’s body, and then helped her lift it from the van. With the lower gravity on New Galveston, it was likely she could have carried it by herself, even though it was a bit on the heavy side. But it wasn’t about proving that she could do it herself. It was about letting the poor man say his goodbyes, and letting Colleen keep a few final dignities, even in death.
When they’d laid her down near the bodies of the alien things, Nigel thanked her and took her hands in his. His were soft. Hers were callused. They lived in different worlds.
He went back to the van and retrieved a case, opening it to reveal some tools. And then he moved over to the spidery thing. For the next fifteen or so minutes, Nigel the man disappeared. Doctor Silas the scientist began working on a puzzle.
Having examined the dead creature, he went back to the van. After a few minutes he emerged, carrying a long strip of translucent hide. It was small, it was wet, and it had several features in common with the full-grown alien—enough to point to a clear connection.
Silas looked it over carefully and set it down next to the spider-thing, still without saying a word.
She almost asked what he was thinking, but decided against it. Most likely it was beyond her, anyhow.
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