Alien - 3

IX

Andrews stood before his charges in the mess hall, silently surveying their expectant, curious faces while Dillon prepared to give his traditional invocation. Aaron sat nearby, wondering what his boss had on his mind.

‘All rise, all pray. Blessed is the Lord.’ The prisoners complied, striking reverent attitudes. Dillon continued.

‘Give us the strength, O Lord, to endure. We recognize we are poor sinners in the hands of an angry God. Let the circle be unbroken, until the day. Amen.’ Each prisoner raised his fist, then took a seat.

As Dillon surveyed them his formerly beatific expression twisted with appalling suddenness.

‘What the fuck is happening here? What is this bullshit that’s coming down? We got murder! We got rape! We got brothers in trouble! I don’t want no more bullshit around here! We got problems, we stand together.’

Andrews let the silence that followed Dillon’s outburst linger until he was confident he had everyone’s attention. He cleared his throat ceremoniously.

‘Yes, thank you, Mr. Dillon,’ he began in his usual no-nonsense tone. ‘All right. Once again this is rumour control.

Here are the facts.’

‘At 0400 hours prisoner Murphy, through carelessness and probably a good dose of stupidity on his part, was found dead in Vent shaft Seventeen. From the information gathered on the spot it would appear that he was standing too close to the ventilator fan when a strong downdraft struck, and was consequently sucked or blown into the blades. Medical Officer Clemens acted as coroner on the occasion and his official report is as straightforward as you might expect as to cause of death.’

Several of the prisoners murmured under their breath.

Andrews eyed them until they were quiet once more.

He began to pace as he spoke. ‘Not long thereafter prisoners Boggs, Rains, and Golic left on a routine forage and scavenge mission into the shafts. They were well equipped and presu-mably knew what they were about.’

‘I can confirm that,’ Dillon put in.

Andrews acknowledged the big man’s comment with a glance, resumed his declamation. ‘At about 0700 hours prisoner Golic reappeared in a deranged state. He was covered with blood and babbling nonsense. Presently he is physically restrained and receiving medical treatment in the infirmary. Prisoners Boggs and Rains are still missing. We are forced to consider the possibility that they have met with foul play at the hands of prisoner Golic.’ He paused to let that sink in.

‘The history of the prisoner in question is not incompatible with such a suspicion. While no one is sent here who has not first been treated and cleared by Rehabilitation Central on Earth, not every program of treatment is perfect or everlasting.’

‘I heard that,’ said Dillon.

‘Just so. However, until prisoners Rains and Boggs, or their bodies, are located and the reason for their absence resolved, any conclusions are necessarily premature. They may be sitting in one of the tunnels, injured and unable to move, waiting for help to arrive. Or they may have gotten lost trying to find their way out. Obviously there is an urgent need to organize and send out a search party. Volunteers will be appreciated and the offer appropriately noted in your records.’ He stopped in front of the north wall, which had been fashioned of locally poured lead.

‘I think it’s fair to say that our smoothly running facility has suddenly developed a few problems. It is no cause for panic or alarm and in fact is to be occasionally expected in a situation like this. Whatever the eventual resolution of this particular unfortunate incident I think that I may safely say a return to normal operations can be anticipated within a very short while.

‘In the meantime we must all keep our wits about us and pull together for the next few days, until the rescue team arrives to pick up Lieutenant Ripley. I may even go so far as to say that her unplanned arrival here, while creating some problems of its own, has likewise caused the Company to divert a ship to Fiorina. That means the possibility of obtaining extra supplies and perhaps a few luxuries well ahead of schedule. It is something to look forward to. So we should all be looking to the days ahead with anticipation.’

The door to his right slammed open to admit Ripley. Out of breath and anxious, she ignored the stares of everyone present.

‘It’s here! It got Clemens!’ She was glancing around wildly, her eyes inspecting the dark corners and distant corridors of the assembly hall.

The veins bulged in Andrews’s neck. ‘Lieutenant, I’ve had about enough of you. Stop this raving at once! Stop it! You’re spreading panic unnecessarily and without proof, and I won’t have it, you hear me? I won’t have it!’

She glared at him. ‘I’m telling you, it’s here!’

‘And I’m telling you, get control of yourself, Lieutenant!’

He looked sharply to his right.?Mr. Aaron, get that foolish woman under control at once. Get her back to the infirmary!’

‘Yes, sir.’ Aaron took a step toward Ripley. Her expression made him hesitate. She looked no less physically capable than the average prisoner.

As he considered what to do next the lights suddenly flickered wildly. Prisoners shouted, ran into one another, looked around in confusion. Andrews shook his head dolefully.

‘I won’t have this kind of nonsense in my facility. Do you all hear me? I will not put up with it.’ A faint scraping noise caused him to glance upward.

The alien reached down and nipped the superintendent off the floor as neatly as a spider trapping a fly. In an instant both predator and prey were gone. In the ensuing hysteria only Ripley and prisoner Morse actually saw the monster drag the quiescent form of Andrews into an open air shaft.

Ripley took up a seat in a corner and lit a narcostick. She found herself remembering Clemens. Her expression hardened.

Clemens: better not to think of him, just as she’d learned to quickly forget several other men with whom she’d formed attach-ments, only to have them snatched away and destroyed by other representatives of the seemingly indestructive alien horde.

Except that they were not indestructible. They could be killed. And so long as she was alive, that seemed to be her destiny. To wipe them out, to eliminate them from the face of the universe. It was a calling she would gladly, oh, so gladly, have bequeathed to another.

Why her? It was a question she had pondered on more than one occasion. Why should she have been singled out? No, she reflected, that wasn’t right. Nothing was singling her out. Fate hadn’t chosen her to deal with a lifetime of horror and devastation. Others had confronted the aliens and perished.

Only she continued to suffer because only she continued to survive.

It was a destiny she could abandon at any time. The infirmary was well stocked, its contents clearly labelled. A single, simple injection could wipe away all the pain and the terror. Easy enough to put an end to it. Except that she was a survivor. Perhaps that was her task in life, simply to survive.

No, fate hadn’t singled her out for special mistreatment. She wasn’t responsible for the fact that she was tougher than anyone else. It was just something she’d have to learn to live with.

Another man gone. One she hadn’t been especially fond of this time. She regretted it nonetheless. Andrews was human, and if nothing else deserved to die a decent death.

The alien had left dead silence in the wake of its astonishingly swift attack. In its aftermath the men had resumed sitting or standing, each staring into the distance, at his neighbour, or inwardly. As usual it was left to Dillon to kneel and begin the prayer.

‘We have been given a sign, brothers. How we deal with it will determine our fates.’

‘Amen,’ several of the prisoners chorused. The comments of several others were fortunately unintelligible.

Dillon continued. ‘We give thanks, O Lord, your wrath has come and the time is near that we be judged. The apocalypse is upon us. Let us be ready. Let your mercy be just.’

Near the back of the hall the prisoners had begun to whisper to one another, Dillon’s prayer notwithstanding.

‘It was big,’ prisoner David muttered. ‘I mean, big. And fast.’

‘I saw it, asshole.’ Kevin was gazing intently at the place on the ceiling from which the alien had hung. ‘I was there. Y’think I’m blind?’

‘Yeah, but I mean it was big.’ So intent were they on the memory of what had just happened that they even forgot to stare at Ripley.

Prisoner William rose and surveyed his comrades. ‘Okay, so what do we do now, mates?’ A couple of the men looked at one another but no one said anything. ‘Well, who’s in charge? I mean, we need to get organized here, right?’

Aaron swallowed, glanced around the room. ‘I guess I’m next in line.’

Morse rolled his eyes ceilingward. ‘Eighty-five’s gonna be in charge. Jesus, give me a break!’

‘Don’t call me that!’ Aaron glared at the prisoner who’d spoken. ‘Not now, not ever!’ Rising, he advanced to confront them.

‘Look, no way I can replace Andrews. I’m not even gonna pretend that I can. You guys didn’t appreciate him. I know he was a hardass sometimes, but he was the best man I ever worked with.’

Dillon was less than impressed. ‘I don’t want to hear that shit.’ His gaze shifted from the assistant to the lanky figure seated on the far side of the hall. ‘What about you? You’re an officer. How about showing us a little leadership?’

Ripley glanced briefly in his direction, took a puff on her narcostick, and looked away.

Williams broke the ensuing silence, gesturing at Dillon. ‘You take over. You run things here anyway.’

The bigger man shook his head quickly. ‘No fuckin’ way. I ain’t the command type. I just take care of my own.’

‘Well, what’s the fuckin’ beast want?’ The discouraged Williams inquired aloud. ‘Is the fucker gonna try and get us all?’

The narcostick eased from Ripley’s lips. ‘Yeah.’

‘Well, isn’t that sweet?’ Morse growled sarcastically. ‘How do we stop it?’

Disgusted, Ripley tossed the remains of her narcostick aside and rose to confront the group.

‘We don’t have any weapons, right? No smart guns, no pulse rifles, nothing?’

Aaron nodded reluctantly. ‘Right.’

She looked thoughtful. ‘I haven’t seen one exactly like this before. It’s bigger, its legs are different. The other ones were afraid of fire, or at least respectful of it. Not much else.’

She let her gaze roam the hall. ‘Can we seal off this area?’

‘No chance,’ Aaron told her. ‘The developed mine complex is ten miles square. There’s six hundred air ducts that access the surface. This goddamn place is big.’

‘What about video? We could try to locate it that way. I see monitors everywhere.’

Again the assistant superintendent shook his head. ‘Internal video system hasn’t worked in years. No reason to keep an expensive hi-tech system just to monitor a lousy twenty-five caretaker prisoners who aren’t going anywhere anyhow. Fact is, nothin’ much works here anymore. We got a lot of technology, but no way to fix it.’

‘What eight-five’s tryin’ to tell you—’ Morse started to say.

‘Don’t call me that!’ Aaron snapped.

The prisoner ignored him. ‘—is that we got no entertainment centres, no climate control, no viewscreens, no surveillance, no freezers, no fuckin’ ice cream, no guns, no rubbers, no women. All we got here is shit.’

‘Shut up,’ Dillon said warningly.

‘What the hell are we even talkin’ to her for?’ Morse continued. ‘She’s the one that brought the fucker here. Let’s run her head through the wall.’

Ripley shrugged ever so slightly. ‘Sounds good to me.’

Dillon walked over to confront Morse. ‘I won’t say it again,’

he said softly. ‘Keep your mouth shut.’

Morse considered, then dropped his gaze and backed off.

For the time being.

The assistant super eyed Ripley. ‘All right. What do we do now?’

She was aware that not just the three men at the table but the majority of the prisoners were watching her, waiting.

‘On Acheron we tried to seal ourselves off and establish a defensive perimetre. It worked, but only for a little while.

These things always find a way in. First I need to see, not hear, what our exact physical situation is.’

‘It’s fucked,’ Morse growled, but under his breath.

Aaron nodded. ‘Come with me.’ He looked to Dillon. ‘Sorry, but you know the regs.’

The big man blinked slowly by way of acknowledgment. ‘Just don’t be too long, okay?’

Aaron tried to grin, failed. ‘Look at this way: no work detail today.’

Dillon let his gaze sweep the upper level of the library. ‘Then why is it I don’t feel relaxed?’

They moved along the main passageway, Aaron holding the schematic map, Ripley shifting her attention from the printout to the corridor and walls. There was overhead light, but dim.

Morse was wrong. Some of the complex’s basic life support system still functioned.

She tapped the plastic sheet. ‘What’s this?’

‘Access serviceway. Connects the infirmary to the mess hall.’

‘Maybe we can go in, flush it out.’

He stayed close. ‘Come on. There’s miles and miles of tunnels down there.’

She traced lines on the sheet. ‘It won’t go far. It’ll nest in this area right around here, in one of the smaller passageways or air shafts.’

His expression twisted. ‘Nest? Don’t you mean “rest”?’

She glanced over at him. ‘I mean what I say. Just don’t ask me for details. If we can kill or immobilize it, remind me and I’ll explain. Otherwise you don’t want to know.’

He held her stare a moment longer, then dropped his eyes back to the map. ‘How do you know that?’

‘It’s like a lion. It sticks close to the zebras.’

‘We don’t have any zebras here.’

She halted and gave him a look.

‘Oh, right,’ he said, subdued. ‘But running around down there in the dark? You gotta be kiddin’. We got no overheads once you get out of the main shaft here.’

‘How about flashlights?’

‘Sure. We got six thousand of them. And rechargeable batteries. But no bulbs. Somebody forgot that little detail. I told ya, nothin’ works.’

‘What about torches? Do we have the capability of making fire? Most humans have enjoyed that privilege since the Stone Age.’

The old vertical shaft stretched up and down into darkness, the ladder welded to its interior filthy with carboniferous grime and accumulated gunk. Damp air ascended languidly from the black depths, thick in Ripley’s nostrils as she leaned out of the corridor and aimed her torch downward. No bottom was visible, not had she expected to see one.

They’d started in through the tunnel where Murphy had been killed, past the huge ventilator blades, which Aaron had shut down prior to their departure. She sniffed, wrinkled her nose. The rising air was more than damp; it was pungent with rotting vegetation and the sharp tang of recycled chemicals.

‘What’s down there?’

Aaron crowded close behind her. ‘Air and water purification and recirculation.’

‘Which explains the stink. Fusion?’

‘Yeah, but sealed away. Everything operates on automatics. A couple of techs from the supply ship run a status check every six months.’ He grinned. ‘You don’t think they’d trust the maintenance details of a functioning fusion plant to the delicate ministrations of a bunch of prisoners and a couple of prison administrators with general degrees, do you?’

She didn’t smile back. ‘Nothing the Company does would surprise me.’ Holding on to the edge of the opening she aimed the torch upward, played the light over the smooth metal walls.

‘What’s upstairs?’

‘Low-tech stuff. Storage chambers, most of ‘em empty now.

Cleaned out when Weyland-Yutani closed down the mine.

Service access ways. Power and water conduits. All the tunnels and shafts are bigger then they need to be. With all the drilling and cording equipment at hand the engineers were able to make it easy on themselves. They built everything oversized.’

He paused. ‘You think it might have gone up there somewhere?’

‘It would naturally choose a large, comfortable chamber for a nest, and it likes to keep above its. . prey. Drop down from above rather than come up from below. Also, the upper levels are closer to the prison habitat. That’s where it’ll expect us to be holed up. If we’re lucky we might be able to come up behind it. If we’re unlucky. .’

‘Yeah?’ Aaron prompted,

‘We might be able to come up behind it.’ She swung out onto the ladder and began climbing.

Not only was the ladder thick with encrusted grime, but the moist air rising from below had stimulated the growth of local algae and other microorganisms. The rungs were slippery and uneven. She made sure to grip the side of the ladder firmly with her free hand as she ascended.

The shaft intersected one or more cross-corridors approxi-mately every three metres. At each level she shoved her torch inside, illuminating each tunnel for a respectable distance before resuming her ascent.

While he was trying to watch Ripley, Aaron’s concentration slipped along with his foot. Behind him Dillon quickly looped his left arm around the ladder and caught the flailing ankle with his other hand, shoving the assistant super’s boot back onto the nearest rung.

‘You all right up there?’ he inquired in a terse whisper.

‘Fine,’ Aaron replied, albeit a little shakily. ‘Just keep that torch out of my ass.’

‘Funny you should mention that,’ the big man replied in the half darkness. ‘I’ve spent years dreaming of doing just that.’

‘Save it for another time, okay?’ Aaron hurried himself, not wanting Ripley to get dangerously far ahead.

‘One thing more, man,’ Dillon murmured.

The assistant superintendent glanced back down. ‘What now?’

‘Anytime you want to trade places, you let me know.’

‘In your dreams.’ Despite their circumstances each man mustered a fraternal grin of understanding. Then they resumed climbing, the brief feeling of camaraderie swept away in the desperation and anxiety of their situation.

Ripley glanced down, wondering what they were talking about. It was good that they could manage to smile under such conditions. She wished she could share in their amusement, but knew she could not. She was much too conscious of what might lie ahead of them. Inhaling resignedly, she ascended the next step and aimed her light into still another opening.

Straight into the face of the creature.

If her fingers hadn’t contracted in terror she surely would have fallen off the ladder as she screamed. Reflexively she swung her torch. It struck the horror square atop the gleaming black head. . which crumbled into pieces on contact.

‘What. . what is it?’ Aaron was yelling below her.

She ignored him as she fought to regain her equilibrium.

Only then did she pull herself up the ladder and step off into the tunnel.

Together the three stared at the collapsed, dried-out husk of the adult alien.

‘Ugly sucker, ain’t it?’ Dillon volunteered.

Ripley knelt to examine the cast-off shell. Her fingers trembled slightly as she touched it, then steadied. It was perfectly harmless, a shadow of an enigma. There was nothing there. The skull where her torch had struck had been empty inside. Experimentally she gave the remainder of the shell a light push and the massive, streamlined form tumbled over onto its side. She straightened.

‘What is it?’ Aaron asked her. He prodded the husk with his foot.

‘It’s shed its skin, moulted somehow.’ She looked sharply up the tunnel. ‘This is a new one. I’ve never seen this before. Not at this stage of development.’

‘What’s it mean?’ Dillon muttered.

‘Can’t say. No precedent. One thing we can be sure of, though. It’s bigger now.’

‘How much bigger?’ Aaron joined her in peering up the dark passageway.

‘That depends,’ Ripley murmured.

‘On what?’

‘On what it’s become.’ She started forward, holding her light out in front of her as she pushed her way past him.

Something inside her urged her on, making her increase rather than slow the pace. She hardly paused long enough to shine her torch down the side passages that branched off the main tunnel. The discovery of the alien husk had charged her with the same sort of relentless determination that had enabled her to survive the devastation of Acheron. Determination, and a growing anger. She found herself thinking of Jonesy. No one wonder she and the cat had survived the Nostromo.

Curiosity and a talent for survival were two of the skills they’d shared.

Jonesy was gone now, a victim of the time distortions made necessary by space travel. No more cat-nightmares for him.

Only she was left to deal with life, and all the memories.

‘Slow up.’ Aaron had to break into a jog to catch up with her.

He held up the map, then gestured ahead. ‘Almost there.’

She looked at him. ‘I hope this was worth the climb. What happened to all the damn lifts in this place?’

‘You kidding? Deactivated when the installation was closed down. Why would a bunch of prisoners need to be in this sector anyway?’ He started forward, taking the lead.

They walked another hundred metres before the tunnel opened up into a much larger passageway, one wide and high enough to accommodate vehicles as well as men. The assistant superintendent stopped next to the far wall, holding his torch out to illuminate a sign welded to the metal.

TOXIC WASTE STORAGE

THIS CHAMBER HERMETICALLY SECURED

NO ACCESS WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION

Rating B-8 or Higher Required 146

‘Well, well. What do we have here?’ For the first time in days Ripley allowed herself to feel a twinge of hope.

‘There’s more than a dozen of these scattered around the facility.’ Aaron was bending to study the detailed inscription below the plate. ‘This is the closest one to our living quarters.’

He tapped the wall with his torch and sparks dribbled to the floor.

‘They were gonna shove a lot of heavy-duty waste in here.

Refining by-products, that sort of thing. Some of these are full and permanently sealed, others partially filled. Cheaper, easier, and safer than stuffing the junk into drums and dumping it out in space.

‘This one’s never been used. Maybe because it’s so close to the habitat areas. Or maybe they just never got around to it, closed up shop before they needed the room. I’ve been inside. It’s clean as a whistle in there.’

Ripley studied the wall. ‘What’s the access like?’

‘Pretty much what you’d expect for a storage facility carrying this rating.’ He led her around to the front.

The door was scratched and filthy, but still impressive. She noted the almost invisible seams at the corners. ‘This is the only way in or out?’

Aaron nodded. ‘That’s right. I checked the stats before we came down. Entrance is just big enough for a small loader-transporter with driver and cargo. Ceiling, walls, and floor are six feet thick, solid ceramocarbide steel. So’s the door. All controls and active components are external, or embedded in the matrix itself.’

‘Let’s make sure we’ve got this right. You get something in there and close the door, no way it can get out?’

Aaron grunted confidently. ‘Right. No fuckin’ way. That sucker is tight. According to the specs it’ll hold a perfect vacuum. Nothin’ bigger than a neutrino could slip through.

That ceramocarbide stuff even dissipates lasers. You’d need a controlled nuclear explosion to cut your way in.’

‘You sure this thing is still operational?’

He indicated a nearby control box. ‘Why don’t you find out?’

She moved forward and broke the thin seal that covered the enclosure. The lid flipped down, exposing several controls. She studied them for a moment, then thumbed a large green button.

The immense door didn’t so much slide aside as appear to vanish silently into the wall. She cycled it again, admiring the smooth play of forces that could shift so much mass with such speed and ease. The prisoners were similarly impressed. The efficiency of the long-dormant technology lifted their spirits considerably.

Beyond the open barrier was a slick-walled, empty chamber.

An ephemeral coating of dust covered the floor. It would accommodate several full-grown aliens with ease.

‘Let me see the map.’ Aaron handed her the sheet and her index finger drew patterns on the plastic. ‘We’re here?’ He leaned close and nodded. ‘Administration’s here, assembly hall up this corridor?’

‘You got it. Fast, too,’ he added admiringly.

‘I owe the fact that I’m still alive to an understanding of spatial relationships.’ She tapped the sheet. ‘If we can get it to chase us down these passageways, here and here, then close these off one at a time, we might get it inside.’ The three of them stared into the storage chamber.

Dillon looked back at her. ‘Lemme get this straight. You wanna burn it down and outta the pipes, force it here, slam the door, and trap its ass?’

She spoke without looking up from the map. ‘Ummm.’

‘And you’re looking for help from us Y-chromo boys.’

‘You got something better to do?’

‘Why should we put our asses on the line for you?’

She finally glanced up at him, her eyes steely. ‘Your asses are already on the line. The only question is what you’re going to do about it.’