Alien, page 8
“Fifteen percent.”
“Are you serious? Fifteen percent? That’s insane!” Siobhan felt the heat rising in her face. How could this man—another scientist, at that—hold back information as important as that? Was the Weyland-Yutani money so damned good that he was willing to risk the lives of associates and strangers alike?
Of course he was, wasn’t he?
Otherwise, the Menhit Lab wouldn’t have been reduced to a dark derelict of bloody corpses.
“I told you, our research—” Dr. Fowler began.
“So we’re just supposed to take you at your word, that your wonder drug is working on her?” Siobhan said, cutting him off. “What else aren’t you telling us?”
“That we…” Dr. Fowler hesitated.
Siobhan locked eyes with him, waiting.
His shoulders slumped.
“That the corporation won’t pick us up without proof of a sample,” he said. “Cora. She’s the only way I’m getting off—we’re getting off—this moon.” He paused, and something that seemed uncharacteristically earnest shone in his eyes. “Please.”
The others were silent for a moment. Survival was contingent upon the life or death of a colleague. This seemed cruel, even for a company like Weyland-Yutani.
Siobhan looked from Dr. Fowler to Cora, who was really was little more than a girl just out of her teen years, with a whole life ahead of her. If only the parasite inside her could be drugged long enough to be removed. It didn’t seem fair to abandon her to the terrifying fate of a moon being torn apart before crashing into the cold, swirling oblivion of the planet that was pulling it in.
How was that any less cruel than what Weyland-Yutani proposed?
Still, she was only one girl, and Siobhan had fifteen people to worry about. The ship was coming in less than fourteen hours. If one—or, God forbid, more than one—of those creatures managed to make it back to the Seegson facility…
“Dr. McCormick,” Camilla broke in softly, “I can only report that, superficially, she appears to be stable, as Dr. Fowler suggests. Any unknown variable, however, could negatively impact our evacuation success rate.” Her voice seemed to become harder. “The safety of Seegson personnel is my first priority. I cannot recommend that she accompany us.”
“Now listen—” Fowler said.
“No, you listen, Dr. Fowler,” Siobhan said, standing toe to toe with him. “I’m not going to risk the safety of my staff and their families on your word alone. I’m sorry. Under normal circumstances we could quarantine you both, but we don’t have that kind of time. We have no assurance—”
“You have my assurance!” Fowler shouted, glaring at her. “My research is impeccable. She’s less of a threat to you than your synthetic here!”
“The threat,” Alec broke in, stepping between Siobhan and Fowler, “is a seven-foot killing machine with acid blood that you”—he poked Fowler in the chest—“let loose in this lab. And not just one. I counted at least nine spots on those shelves there where you were holding eggs, and we found only one. If those others have hatched, we’re fucked. Now, my number one priority is keeping Siobhan, her staff, and their families, and my squad alive. I don’t give a shit about anything else, including you and your… your science experiment, especially if you get in my way.”
Dr. Fowler shrank back from him, seeming at a loss for what to say. He glanced at Cora, and then his expression changed, his eyes wide and his mouth dropping open.
Siobhan turned to see what he was looking at, and she let out a little gasp.
Cora Lanning was sitting up in the medical pod, blinking her eyes. She looked at them and gave them a small, shy smile.
She was awake.
9
“Cora! You’re awake! How are—?” Dr. Fowler took a step toward her, but Siobhan placed a hand on his arm to stop him.
“Dr. Fowler?” The girl rubbed her eyes with the back of one hand. “What happened? Did I get… did you give me the drug?”
“I did.” Fowler smiled. “Tell me, what are you feeling right now?”
She let out a shuddery sigh and looked from Siobhan and Alec to Camilla. “I… okay, I think. I feel okay. A little hungry. Who…?” She gestured to Siobhan.
“Cora, I’m Siobhan McCormick, from the Seegson Pharmaceuticals lab. We got the distress signal your synthetic sent. Can you tell us what happened?”
The girl shivered. “I don’t know much. I’m sorry, Dr. Fowler, I—” She stopped, her gaze shifting off. Something, it seemed, was coming back to her. She raised a shaking hand to her head, wiping the blood-stiffened hair from her face and pushing it behind her ear. “There was screaming. I remember the screaming inside the safe room, where we all were… oh God…” She looked up in horror and whispered, “We were in there with those things.”
“Where?” Alec asked, but she didn’t seem to hear him.
“They’re all gone,” Cora continued in that same shaken whisper. “They had holes in their chests where the… where those monsters…” She looked down at her own stomach, touching it lightly, as if afraid the contact would stir the creature inside her. To Fowler she said, “You can get it out of me, right? I don’t want it inside of me.”
“Of course,” Dr. Fowler said, stepping toward her. He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Once the corporation ship comes, we’ll get you taken care of.”
“You promise?”
“Absolutely.” He gave her a warmly reassuring, almost paternal smile. “Now, can you tell us what you remember?”
Cora thought about it a minute. “I was working in the biotoxin lab. We were doing the second wave of Anathema experiments on the black pathogen samples—the ones Dr. Shields sent, that were taken from LV-239. You know Myrna Shields, right, Dr. Fowler?”
“I do,” he replied, sounding oddly noncommittal.
“Well, we had just disposed of the sample—thank God for that, right?” She uttered a nervous little titter. “I mean, imagine if any of us were exposed because of what happened? Or if those things…” Her smile evaporated. “Anyway, I heard the ceiling tiles crack, and one of those creatures came through. It killed Dr. Forman and Shelley and Dave and… I don’t even know how many others.”
“You saw it?” Alec asked. “The Xenomorph?”
“One of them. There was only the one then. I—I ran to the storage warehouse. That’s what we were told to do, in case of emergencies. The room’s got special locks,” Cora explained, “and alarm systems because we keep important equipment, prototypes, that sort of thing in there—”
“That’s okay, Cora,” Fowler broke in with an uneasy laugh. “They don’t need to know all those details.”
“Oh, right,” she said, blushing a little. “Anyway, a bunch of us ran in there and locked ourselves in. The lockdown procedures added extra security, we thought. Nothing would get in, but that wasn’t the problem.” Her eyes filled with tears and her voice cracked when she added, “None of us could get out, either. The… the thing was in there with us. And the eggs, they hatched. That’s… that’s all I remember.” She hugged herself tightly. “Did you find me there, Dr. Fowler?”
“When the doors opened again, yes,” Fowler said. “You were the only one left, who hadn’t…” He made a gesture with his hands like something was exploding from his chest. “I could only assume, given the discarded Ovomorph shells everywhere. I gave you the shot, to be on the safe side.”
She smiled gratefully up at him.
“Wait,” Alec said. “You said, ‘one of them.’ How many were there? How many were in the room with you?”
Cora thought about it a minute, and then said, “I—I don’t know.”
“Think,” Alec said. “It’s important.”
“I—I don’t—five, maybe six? Some of the eggs had already hatched when we found them. Some of the people were already dead.”
“So, no one has any idea exactly how many Xenomorphs are running around this facility?” Alec’s voice was strained. The anger there simmered, threatening to boil over. “You have no idea what, exactly, the threat level is.”
“The problem will sort itself out,” Fowler replied evenly.
The others looked at him, angry shock on their faces.
“Are you insane?” Alec took a step toward him, but Siobhan put a hand on his chest to stop him. Over her head, Alec added, “How the hell do you figure this will ‘sort itself out’?”
“This moon is dying,” Dr. Fowler replied. “In a week, maybe less, this godforsaken rock will be so unstable it’ll tear itself apart. It’ll crash into Hephaestus and its remains will be a pulverized, swirling mess that will annihilate all life still clinging to it. It doesn’t matter if there’s two, three, or twenty of those things—at least, it won’t after tomorrow, when the ships come.
“If we can re-route the corporation ship to pick us up by the Seegson Pharmaceuticals lab,” he continued, “we can put miles between us the Xenomorphs. Even if they thought to follow, they’d still have to do so on foot. We have vehicles, weapons, and we’ll have a head start. We could hole up in your lab, then get the hell off this moon before the savage bastards even know we’re gone.”
It took Siobhan a few moments to process the recklessly negligent and audacious assumptions this man was making. Finally, she took a deep breath and tried a reasoning approach.
“Dr. Fowler, surely, as a man of science, you can’t be so willfully ignorant. There are so many variables—”
“Ignorant?” Dr. Fowler blustered.
“You of all people should know that these things are predators,” Siobhan continued, her own anger on the verge of erupting. “They exist to kill, and to make more aliens. That’s it—and it sounds like they’ve already made quite a few. So where do you think that leaves us?”
“They’ve killed one of my squad members, maybe two.” Alec’s grip on his gun tightened. “I’m not going to lose anyone else. We need to go, and I’m not taking any more risks.”
“We need to bring her,” Dr. Fowler said. “We can’t leave Cora behind. You can see with your own eyes that she’s fine.”
“Wait, what?” Cora exclaimed as she took in what they were saying. “Please, don’t leave me!” Alarm creased her young features, her eyes growing wide in panic. “Please! You can’t leave me here. I’m okay! I feel okay! Dr. Fowler says I am…”
Siobhan and Alec exchanged uneasy glances. Dr. Fowler had deliberately kindled their sympathy and the girl’s panic. How could they abandon her now, to who knew how many of those monsters?
“You can guarantee she’s safe?” Siobhan asked, deliberately avoiding Cora’s searching eyes. It was a useless question, but she had to ask it.
“I can,” Dr. Fowler said with a small smile.
“If anything happens,” Alec growled, poking him in the chest again, “it’s your ass.” Then he said, “Roots, Elkins, we’re moving out. Let’s go!”
* * *
Fowler offered a few options for escape from the Menhit Lab. It was by pure chance, he said, that they’d managed to avoid most of the Xenomorphs, in spite of the way they’d come in. They couldn’t expect the same luck going out the same way.
The greatest risk involved passing by the large storage room, which the first Xenomorph seemed to have repurposed as a nest. It was there, Dr. Fowler theorized, that the majority of them would be gathered, given its cooler temperature and secured pathways for ingress and egress.
“So which way, then?” Alec demanded. Siobhan could tell from the thinness in his voice that he was getting more impatient with each passing minute.
“We go out the other side, toward the living quarters,” Fowler said. “They’re empty now—only essential personnel were left here, and all of them were working when… well anyway, that would be the safest route, in my opinion.”
“We’d have to skirt around the building to get back to the APC,” Elkins said. “Any of those things make it outside yet?”
“That might work in our favor.” Roots frowned. “At least outside, we don’t have to worry about their blood in close quarters.”
“Private Rutiani has a point,” Siobhan said. “I’d vote for that route. Camilla, what do you think?”
“The probability of encountering a Xenomorph along the proposed route, given the bio-readings I’m getting, is approximately sixty-seven point eight percent, compared to our original route, which gives us a probability of ninety-two point three percent.”
“It’s decided, then,” Alec said. “We play the odds.”
10
As they made their way through the complex, the ground rumbled, as if the moon itself was reminding them that time was running out. A look of terror flickered across Cora’s features. The marines didn’t even seem to notice.
They found more carnage splayed across one of the hallway walls. It was what remained of some of the other scientists. Mostly, it was just blood and strands of hair, but it was overwhelming; the smell of rot got up inside the nose and throat and stayed there. Cora whimpered, shrinking further against Dr. Fowler. Camilla gave the gore a curious cursory glance, and then guided the Weyland-Yutani duo around it.
Siobhan saw some severed fingers and an employee ID badge with the name Stanley Watkins lying in a pool of blood, and steeled herself as she stepped over them.
The hallways in this part of the facility, she noticed, were more like a labyrinth, and darker, too. If there were signs directing which way to go, she didn’t see them; despite the flashlights, the darkness closed around them in a way it hadn’t done even in other parts of the facility, and when there were hall lights, they only moved around the shadows.
She supposed it was in her head, that cloying blackness, the weight that came with the stench of blood. In these hallways, the sound of their footsteps seemed louder, the vents larger and closer. A hum came from those, a kind of low electrical vibration which Siobhan couldn’t place. It made no sense; nothing in the facility worked, least of all the electricity. It set her on edge; it felt like a live, feral, waiting thing, breathing and growling and following them via the ductwork as they made their way down the hall.
They turned a corner and Elkins, who was in the lead, flinched. The sudden movement started a chain reaction of jerks and cries.
“What?” Alec shouted from the rear. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Elkins said, clutching his chest a moment, then gesturing at the gloom ahead of them. “Just wires and debris. I thought—for a second, it looked like one of those things.”
“Okay, pull it together, guys. We’re almost out,” Alec said. “Keep going and keep a sharp eye on your surroundings.” They started again, moving quickly and quietly, as they had before. The marines in front ducked through any open doorway to check each room for dangers before moving on. There was an EXIT sign with an arrow encouraging them on, but still the breath in Siobhan’s chest remained tight, even when Dr. Fowler confirmed they were almost to the outside door.
“Almost there” was good, but not as good as “there” would be.
“Sergeant Brand,” Camilla said after a time, “I’m getting the bio-reading of a single lifeform nearby.”
“Where?” Alec said, glancing around. “Which direction?”
Camilla consulted her wrist
“It appears to be… directly above us.”
The group froze, their gazes drifting toward the tops of the walls, searching for air vents. The ceilings themselves looked fairly solid, a kind of smooth concrete with embedded metal mesh… except for the hole.
“Sarge,” Roots whispered harshly. “Look!”
The cavity had been carved in an irregular shape where the ceiling met the wall—like a water stain, only much larger. Its edges were jagged where chewed spokes of metal poked through.
“Up there?” Alec whispered to Camilla, nodding at the hole.
She nodded back. “It appears so.”
Alec nodded to Elkins and Roots, and the three of them crept toward the opening, guns and faces pointed upward. Siobhan glanced around the hallway for something she might use as a weapon. She couldn’t stand another minute of feeling helpless. There wasn’t much to find, other than a slightly bent metal pipe about a foot long and an inch or so wide, ostensibly from somewhere beyond the ceiling.
It would have to do.
She crouched and picked it up, straightening slowly, her attention fixed on the hole. Silence enveloped the hallway; even the hum from the ductwork seemed to have paused, like a breath held in anticipation.
Alec waved for her and the others to continue, past the hole and whatever lay in wait up there. As they hurried by, Siobhan thought she heard a low, breathy kind of squeal. She clutched the pipe tighter.
The Colonial Marines heard it, too. Once they had passed, Alec signaled to his squad to slowly back away, guns still trained upward. Then a roar like wind in an airlock came from above them, and a set of shiny black talons curled around the edge of the ceiling hole.
A chill crawled across Siobhan’s skin. Her heart pounded almost painfully in her chest.
The second set of talons appeared beside the first.
“Run!” Alec bellowed.
In the time that it took him to do so, the creature emerged from the darkness and scaled down the wall.
Siobhan ran. She heard the pounding of footsteps all around her, as well as the firing of pulse rifles. The unnatural squeals of the Xenomorph seemed to echo all around the hallway, as did the scrabbling of its talons as it chased them. It sounded close—over her shoulder, on her back, in front of her, next to her, in her ear.
Reaching the end of the hall, Siobhan skidded into a door and started frantically pounding the control panel next to it. Its faint blue glow gave her fleeting hope, but with each slap of her hand, that hope faded. Alec shouted behind her, his pulse rifle thundering. The squeals reached an angry pitch.
Again she typed in the codes, then made a fist and punched the control panel in frustration. The doors slid open, and she and the others tumbled through. There was a panicked moment of falling forward, landing on her stomach. She rolled onto her back, intending to scramble away from the thing, to get out of the way.
