Aliens (aliens universe)

by Alan Dean Foster

  Apone examined the view, turned away. 'Second squad, talk to me. What's your status?'

  Hicks's voice replied. 'Just finished our sweep. There's nobody home.'

  The master sergeant nodded to himself, spoke to the occupants of the distant APC. 'The place is dead, sir. Dead and deserted. All's quiet on the Hadley front. Whatever happened here, we missed it.'

  'Late for the party again.' Drake kicked a lump of corroded metal aside.

  Gorman leaned back and looked thoughtful. 'All right. The area's secured. Let's go in and see what their computer can tel us. First team, head for Operations. You know where that is Sergeant?'

  Apone nudged a sleeve switch. A small map of the Hadley colony appeared on the inside of his helmet visor. 'That tal structure we saw coming in. It's not far, sir. We're on our way.'

  'Good. Hudson, when you get there, see if you can bring their CPU on-line. Nothing fancy. We don't want to use it; we just want to talk to it. Hicks, we're coming in. Meet me at the south lock by the uplink tower. Gorman out.'

  'Out is right.' Hudson would have spat save for the fact that no suitable target presented itself. 'He's coming in. I feel safer already.'

  Vasquez made sure her suit mike was off before agreeing.

  The powerful arc lights mounted on the front of the APC illuminated the stained, wind-scoured walls of the colony buildings as the armoured vehicle trundled down the main service street. They passed a couple of smaller vehicles parked in a shielded area. The APC's gleaming metal wheels threw up sheets of dirty water as it rumbled through oversize potholes Internal shocks absorbed the impact. Wind-blown rain lashed the headlights.

  In the driver's compartment, Bishop and Wierzbowski worked smoothly side by side, man and synthetic functioning in perfect harmony. Each respected the other's abilities. Both knew, for example, that Wierzbowski could ignore any advice Bishop gave. Both also knew that the human would probably take it. Wierzbowski squinted through the narrow driver's port and pointed.

  'Over there, I think.'

  Bishop checked the flashing, brightly coloured map on the screen between them. 'That has to be it. There's no other lock in this area.' He leaned on the wheel, and the heavy machine swung toward a cavernous opening in the wall nearby.

  'Yeah, there's Hicks.'

  Apone's second in command emerged from the open lock as the armoured personnel carrier ground to a halt. He watched while the crew door cycled and slid aside. A suited Gorman was first down the ramp, followed closely by Burke, Bishop, and Wierzbowski. Burke looked back, searching for the tank's remaining occupant, only to see her hesitate in the portal. She wasn't looking at him. Her attention was focused on the dark entrance leading deep into the colony.

  'Ripley?'

  Her eyes lowered to meet his. By way of reply, she shook her head sharply from side to side.

  'The area's secured.' Burke tried to sound understanding 'You heard Apone.'

  Another negative gesture. Hudson's voice sounded in their headsets.

  'Sir, the colony CPU is on-line.'

  'Good work, Hudson,' said the lieutenant. 'Those of you in Operations, stand by. We'll be there soon.' He nodded to his companions. 'Let's go.'

  VI

  In person the devastation looked much worse than it had on the APC's monitors.

  'Looks like your company can write off its share of this colony,' he murmured to Burke.

  'The buildings are mostly intact.' The company rep didn't sound concerned. 'The rest's insured.'

  'Yeah? What about the colonists?' Ripley asked him.

  'We don't know what's happened to them yet.' He sounded slightly irritated by the question.

  It was chilly inside the complex. Internal control had failed along with the power, and in any case, the blown-out windows and gaping holes in the walls would have overloaded the equipment quickly, anyway. Ripley found that she was sweating despite her environment suit's best efforts to keep her comfortable. Her eyes were as active as any trooper's as she checked out every hole in the walls and floor, every shadowed corner.

  This was where it had all begun. This was the place where it had come from. The alien. There was no doubt in her mind what had happened here. An alien like the one that had caused the destruction of the Nostromo and the deaths of all her shipmates had gotten loose in Hadley Colony.

  Hicks noticed her nervousness as she scanned the ravaged hallway and the fire-gutted offices and storage rooms Wordlessly he motioned to Wierzbowski. The trooper nodded imperceptibly, adjusted his stride so that he fell into position on Ripley's right. Hicks slowed down until he was flanking her on the left. Together they formed a protective cordon around her. She noticed the shift and glanced at the corporal. He winked, or at least she thought he might have. It was too fast for her to be certain. Might just have been blinking at something in his eye. Even in the corridor there was enough of a breeze to blow sand and soot around.

  Frost emerged from the side corridor just ahead. He beckoned to the new arrivals, speaking to Gorman but looking at Hicks.

  'Sir, you should check this out.'

  'What is it, Frost?' Gorman was in a hurry to rendezvous with Apone. But the soldier was insistent.

  'Easier to show you, sir.'

  'Right. It's up this way?' The lieutenant gestured down the corridor. Frost nodded and turned up into darkness, the others following.

  He led them into a wing that was completely without power Their suit lights revealed scenes of destruction worse than anything yet encountered. Ripley found that she was trembling. The APC, safe, solid, heavily armed, and not far off, loomed large in her thoughts. If she ran hard, she'd be back there in a few minutes. And alone once again. No matter how secure the personnel carrier was, she knew she was safer here, surrounded by the soldiers. She kept telling herself that as they advanced.

  Frost was gesturing. 'Right ahead here, sir.'

  The corridor was blocked. Someone had erected a make-shift barricade of welded pipes and steel plate, extra door panels, ceiling sheathing, and composite flooring. Acid holes and gashes scarred the hastily raised barrier. The meta had been torn and twisted by hideously powerful forces. Just to the right of where Frost was standing the barricade had been ripped open like an old soup can. They squeezed through the narrow opening one at a time.

  Lights played over the devastation beyond. 'Anybody know where we are?' Gorman asked.

  Burke studied an illuminated company map. 'Medical wing We're in the right section, and it has the right look.'

  They fanned out, the lights from their suits illuminating overturned tables and cabinets, broken chairs and expensive surgical equipment. Smaller medical instruments littered the floor like steel confetti. Additional tables and furniture had been piled, bolted, and welded to the inside of the barricade that once had sealed the wing off from the rest of the complex Black streaks showed where untended fire had flamed, and the walls were pockmarked with holes from pulse-rifle fire and acid.

  Despite the absence of lights, the wing wasn't completely energy-dead. A few isolated instruments and control boards glowed softly with emergency power. Wierzbowski ran a gloved hand over a hole in the wall the size of a basketball.

  'Last stand. They threw up that barricade and holed up in here.'

  'Makes sense.' Gorman kicked an empty plastic bottle aside It went clattering across the floor. 'Medical would have the longest-lasting emergency power supply plus its own stock of supplies. This is where I'd come also. No bodies?'

  Frost was sweeping the far end of the wing with his light. 'I didn't see any when I came in here, sir, and I don't see any now. Looks like it was a fight.'

  'Don't see any of your bad guys, either, Ripley.' Wierzbowski looked up and around. 'Hey, Ripley?' His finger tensed on the pulse-rifle's trigger. 'Where's Ripley?'

  'Over here.'

  The sound of her voice led them into a second room. Burke examined their new surroundings briefly before pronouncing identification. 'Medical lab. Looks pretty clean. I do
n't think the fight got this far. I think they lost it in the outer room.'

  Wierzbowski's eyes roved the emergency-lit chamber unti they found what had attracted Ripley's attention. He muttered something under his breath and walked toward her. So did the others.

  At the far side of the lab seven transparent cylinders glowed with violet light. Combined with the fluid, they contained the light served to preserve the organic material within. All seven cylinders were in use.

  'It's a still. Somebody makes booze here,' Gorman said Nobody laughed.

  'Stasis tubes. Standard equipment for a colony med lab this size.' Burke approached the glass cylinders.

  Seven tubes for seven specimens. Each cylinder held something that looked like a severed hand equipped with too many fingers. The bodies to which the long fingers were attached were flattened and encased in a material like beige leather, thin and translucent. Pseudo-gills drifted lazily in the stasis suspension fluid. There were no visible organs of sight or hearing. A long tail hung from the back of each abomination trailing freely in the liquid. A couple of the creatures held their tails coiled tightly against their undersides.

  Burke spoke to Ripley without taking his eyes off the specimens. 'Are these the same as the one you described in your report?' She nodded without speaking.

  Fascinated, the Company rep moved toward one cylinder leaning forward until his face was almost touching the special glass.

  'Watch it, Burke,' Ripley warned him.

  As she concluded the warning the creature imprisoned in the tube lunged sharply, slamming against the inner lining of the cylinder. Burke jumped back, startled. From the ventra portion of the flattened hand-like body a thin, fleshy projection had emerged. It looked like a tapered section of intestine as it slithered tongue-like over the tube's interior. Eventually it retracted, curling up inside a protective sheath between the gill-like structures. Legs and tail contracted into a resting position.

  Hicks glanced emotionlessly at Burke. 'It likes you.'

  The Company rep didn't reply as he moved down the line inspecting each of the cylinders in turn. As he passed a tube he would press his hand against the smooth exterior. Only one of the remaining six specimens reacted to his presence. The others drifted aimlessly in the suspension fluid, their fingers and tails floating freely.

  'These are dead,' he said when he'd finished with the last tube. 'There's just two alive. Unless there's a different state they go into, but I doubt it. See, the dead ones have a completely different colour. Faded, like.'

  A file folder rested atop each cylinder. By exerting every ounce of self-control she possessed, Ripley was able to remove the file from the top of a tube containing a live face-hugger Retreating quickly, she opened the folder and began reading with the aid of her suit light. In addition to the printed material the file was overflowing with charts and sonographs. There were a couple of nuclear magnetic resonance image plates which attempted to show something of the creatures' internal structure. They were badly blurred. All of the lengthy computer printouts had copious notes scribbled freehand in the margins. A physician's handwriting, she decided. They were mostly illegible.

  'Anything interesting?' Burke was leaning around the stasis cylinder whose file she was perusing, studying the creature it contained from every possible angle.

  'Probably a great deal, but most of it's too technical for me. She tapped the file. 'Report of the examining physician. Doctor named Ling.'

  'Chester O. Ling.' Burke tapped the tube with a fingernail This time the creature inside failed to respond. 'There were three doctors stationed at Hadley. Ling was a surgeon, I believe. What's he have to say about this little prize here?'

  'Removed surgically before embryo implantation could be completed. Standard surgical procedures useless.'

  'Wonder why?' Gorman was as interested in the specimen as the rest of them but not to the point of taking his eyes off the rest of the room.

  'Body fluids dissolved the instruments as they were applied They had to use surgical lasers to both remove and cauterize the specimen. It was attached to somebody named Marachuk John L.' She glanced up at Burke, who shook his head.

  'Doesn't ring a bell. Not an administrator or one of the higher-ups. Must've been a tractor driver or roustabout.'

  She looked back down at the report. 'He died during the procedure. They killed him getting it off.'

  Hicks walked over to have a look at the report, peering over Ripley's shoulder. He didn't have the chance to read it. His motion tracker emitted an unexpected and startlingly loud beep.

  The four soldiers spun, checking first the entrance to the lab, moving on to squint at dark corners. Hicks aimed the tracker back toward the barricade.

  'Behind us.' He gestured toward the corridor they'd just left.

  'One of us?' Without thinking, Ripley moved closer to the corporal.

  'No way of telling. This baby isn't a precision instrument She's made to take a lot of abuse from dumb grunts like me and still keep on working, but she doesn't render judgments.'

  Gorman addressed his headset pickup. 'Apone, we're up in medical and we've got something. Where are your people?' He gave his visor map a quick scan. 'Anybody in D-Block?'

  'Negative.' All of them could hear the sergeant's filtered reply. 'We're all over in Operations, as ordered. You want some company?'

  'Not yet. We'll keep you posted.' He nudged the aural pickup away from his mouth. 'Let's go, Vasquez.'

  She nodded tersely and swung the smartgun into the ready position on its support arm. It locked in place with an authoritative click. She and Hicks started off in the direction o the signal source while Frost and Wierzbowski brought up the rear.

  The corporal led them back out into the main corridor and turned right, into a stainless-steel labyrinth. 'Getting stronger Definitely not mechanical.' He held the tracker firmly in one hand, cradled his rifle with the other. 'Irregular movement Where the heck are we, anyway?'

  Burke surveyed their surroundings. 'Kitchen. We'll be in among the food-processing equipment if we keep going this way.'

  Ripley had slowed until she fell behind Wierzbowski and Frost. Realizing suddenly that there was nothing behind her but darkness, she hurried to catch up to her companions.

  Burke's appraisal was confirmed as they advanced and their lights began to bounce off the shiny surfaces of bulky machinery: freezers, cookers, defrosters, and sterilizers. Hicks ignored it all, intent on his tracker.

  'It's moving again.'

  Vasquez's gaze was cold as she scanned her environment Plenty of cover in here. Her fingers caressed the smartgun's controls. A long preparation table loomed in their path.

  'Which way?'

  Hicks hesitated briefly, then nodded toward a complicated array of machinery designed to process freeze-dried meats and vegetables. The soldiers advanced on it, their tread a deliberate, solemn march. Wierzbowski stumbled over a metal canister and angrily booted it aside, sending it clanging off into the shadows. He kept his balance and his aplomb, but Ripley half climbed the nearest wall.

  The corporal's tracker was beeping steadily now, almost humming. The hum rose to a sharp whine. A pile of stockpots suddenly came crashing down off to their right, and a dim shape was faintly glimpsed moving through the shadows behind the preparation counters.

  Vasquez pivoted smoothly, her finger already contracting on the trigger. At the same instant Hick's rifle slammed the heavier barrel upward. Tracer fire ripped into the ceiling sending droplets of molten metal flying. She whirled and screamed at him.

  Ignoring her, he hurried forward into her line of fire and aimed his bright-light under a row of metal cabinets. He stayed like that for what seemed a short eternity before beckoning for Ripley to join him. Her legs wouldn't work, and her feet seemed frozen to the floor. Hicks gestured again, more urgently this time, and she found herself moving forward in a daze.

  He was bending over, trying to work his light beneath a high storage locker. She crouched down next
to him.

  Pinned against the wall by his light like a butterfly on a mounting pin was a tiny, terrified figure. Filthy and staring, the little girl cowered away from the intruders. In one hand she held a plastic food packet that had been half gnawed. The other clutched tight the head of a large doll, holding it by its hair. Of the remainder of the plastic body there was no sign. The child was as emaciated as she was dirty, the skin taut around her smal face. She looked far more fragile than the doll's head she carried. Her blond hair was tangled and matted, a garland of steel wool framing her face.

  Ripley tried but couldn't hear her breathing.

  The girl blinked against the light, the brief gesture sufficient to jump-start Ripley's mind. She extended a hand toward the waif slowly, fingers closed, and smiled at her.

  'Come on out,' she said soothingly. 'It's all right. There's nothing to be afraid of here.' She tried to reach farther behind the cabinet.

  The girl retreated from the extending fingers, backing away and trembling visibly. She had the look of a rabbit paralyzed by oncoming headlights. Ripley's fingers almost reached her. She opened her hand, intending to gently caress the torn blouse.

  Like a shot, the girl bolted to her right, scuttling along beneath the cabinetry with incredible agility. Ripley dove forward, scrambling on elbows and knees as she fought to keep the child in view. Outside the cabinets Hicks crabbed frantically sideways until a small gap appeared between two storage lockers. He snapped out a hand, and his fingers locked around a tiny ankle. An instant later he drew it back.

  'Ow! Watch it, she bites.'

  Ripley reached for the other retreating foot and missed. A second later the girl reached a ventilation duct whose grille had been kicked out. Before Hicks or anyone else could make another grab for her, she'd scrambled inside, wriggling like a fish. Hicks didn't even try to follow. He wouldn't have fit through the narrow opening stark naked, much less clad in his bulky armour.

  Ripley dove without thinking, squirming into the duct with her arms held out in front of her, moving with thighs and arms. Her hips barely cleared the opening. The girl was just ahead of her, still moving. As Ripley followed, her breathing loud in the confined tunnel, the child slammed a metal hatch in place ahead of her. With a lunge Ripley reached the barrier and shoved it open before it could be latched from the other side. She cursed as she banged her forehead against the metal overhead.