Aliens vs Predator Omnibus

by Steve Perry

  The last of the rhynth had gone. Besides a fading rumble, the only noise was the hiss of fire—and somewhere close by, the piercing trill of a nightmare creature.

  “Miriam,” she said again. “Broken Tusk, Miriam had to save him—”

  The pilots ignored her and started pulling her toward one of the holding pens.

  Noguchi pushed them away and turned back to the remains of the copter.

  “Dr. Revna, the woman who was in the copter with me! I’m not leaving without her!”

  Conover’s voice was both apologetic and irritated at once. “I didn’t see anyone else,” he began. And then stopped.

  “Oh, Jesus—”

  Noguchi glanced at both of the pilots, who stood with looks of awe and terror on their faces.

  She spun back around and felt her heart sink.

  It was Broken Tusk, surrounded by flames.

  He carried Miriam Revna in his arms.

  * * *

  Dachande hit the ground, hard, but shouldered the impact well. It helped that he had the time to jump before the ooman flyer had crashed.

  He stood and winced at the tight feeling in his chest; he had probably rebroken what had started mending.

  But the host stampede had passed, and the drones were nowhere around, at least for the moment.

  Dachande looked around at the burning pieces of material and walked around them slowly. The oomans had been trying to save him; there was no question. And they had probably died for their efforts.

  He saw a fallen form on the ground, thrown clear of the wreck. Dachande approached it carefully. It did not move.

  The small figure was turned on its stomach, but he knew what it was before he turned it over. It was the ooman who had tended him, then released him. It was the ooman who had tried to save him from the drones and had lost its life trying. There was no question that it was thei-de; thick thwei dripped sluggishly from deep gashes in its face and neck, and its position suggested a snapped spine.

  Dachande scooped the tiny body up and paused for a moment, uncertain of what to do with it. Now that the animals were gone, he heard sounds of ooman language from somewhere near, past the largest part of the burning flyer, just a few paces away.

  The other oomans would want it. For such a brave being, they would want to properly care for it before its u’sl-kwe, final rest. It was no warrior, but it had a sensitivity that Dachande had never seen before, except in the smallest of children.

  He carried the ooman to the others. There were three. One he recognized as the armed ooman from before. The other two were bigger, but unarmed. They held very still as he approached.

  The small warrior held no weapon against him now; it ran toward him, the hold of its body frantic.

  Dachande could see that it was not an attack. The warrior reached him and then gently stroked the face of the dead one that he carried, its composure one of sorrow.

  It repeated something over and over as it touched the dead face. Dachande suddenly remembered the animal loop on his forearm, and tapped it quickly.

  The ooman’s language babbled back at it. The warrior looked up at him and then motioned for him to set the corpse down.

  Dachande did it gently; the ooman had shown him respect. He would do no less for it in its death.

  * * *

  Noguchi stared in shock as she heard her own voice spill out from behind the creature’s mask.

  “I’m sorry, Miriam.”

  She pointed to the ground and then back to Miriam’s body. Broken Tusk carefully set the doctor’s body down and then stepped back.

  Noguchi knelt over Miriam, could already see that it was too late.

  That’s okay, Machiko. Someone else you cared about, someone who depended on you, dead. No big deal.

  Just because it’s your fault.

  She allowed herself one second of pure grief. Her head dropped into her hands, and she let out a soft moan of despair and sorrow. The pain was sharp and cruel, the guilt tremendous and stabbing. And she didn’t have time for it.

  Noguchi stood slowly and took a deep breath. The pilots kept their silence, in respect or embarrassment she didn’t know. She turned to look at the warrior, who also gazed at Revna’s broken body; his odd mask flickered with strange shadows.

  “It’s time to put an end to this,” she said quietly.

  Broken Tusk stepped toward her and put one clawed hand on her shoulder. Noguchi did her best to return the gesture, although she couldn’t quite reach.

  It looked like she had an ally, at least for a while.

  25

  Scott and Tom followed the Noguchi woman through a deserted alley in the dark town. Scott wasn’t sure where they were headed, but Noguchi moved with certainty.

  He glanced over his shoulder from time to time, wary of the huge alien that brought up the rear. They had left the dead woman behind, soaked her corpse with fuel, and set it ablaze.

  After listening to Noguchi’s summary of what had happened in the last twenty-eight hours, Scott hurried to talk to her.

  “Are you saying that they”—he tilted his head back at the giant—“let those bugs loose on a populated planet so they could hunt them?” He kept his voice low.

  Noguchi nodded. “Just a theory, but it fits. Except I don’t think his kind knew there were humans on Ryushi. And from his actions, they weren’t supposed to be shooting at us. We haven’t been here that long, and it looks pretty certain that they were here before.”

  Her voice was edged with dry sarcasm when next she spoke: “I imagine we would have remembered if they’d visited recently.”

  Tom stumbled behind them. Scott stopped and started to turn back, but the giant stepped forward and set the pilot back on his feet as if he weighed nothing.

  Tom nodded at the creature, waved a hand, and moved to join Scott and Noguchi.

  She continued talking. “…and I imagine our presence probably screwed up their plans.”

  Scott raised his eyebrows. “Screwed up their plans. Oh, that’s great I feel so much better knowing that this whole fucking mess was an accident.”

  Noguchi shrugged. “Hey, at least he’s on our side.”

  “Until he gets hungry,” Scott mumbled under his breath. Noguchi stopped at the end of the alley and waited for the giant to catch up to them. She kept her revolver barrel pointed up.

  “Okay. The stampede started just around the corner here; we’re going to walk through its path and see if there’s anything left alive that shouldn’t be.”

  Swell.

  Scott looked around for some kind of weapon. Besides a few small rocks, they were out of luck. They’d have to stick close to the woman.

  The giant hefted a large spear and seemed to wait for Noguchi’s signal:

  “Go.”

  The alien and Noguchi crouched out into the open compound, weapons ready.

  Scott’s heart raced; he looked over at Tom, who shrugged. They stepped out together to join the other two. It wasn’t as if they had a whole lot of choice here, now was it?

  “Holy shit,” Tom said.

  Scott forgot his fear for a second or two.

  The stretch of open ground was littered with dozens of bodies, rhynth, bug, and giant alien. Large patches of soil were eaten away to reveal charred black splatterlike stains, as if the blood from the corpses was toxic. The rhynth were cut or blown open, chests shattered, throats slit. The black bugs were mostly crushed, so also the giants.

  The only light was from a sole street lamp that hadn’t been broken or shot out. The resulting mix of dark and death and shadows was forbidding, ominous. Ugly.

  “When you kill something, you don’t fool around,” said Scott.

  Noguchi wasn’t listening. Her gaze darted from side to side, her revolver still up.

  The giant’s head was cocked to one side, his stance ready. The two of them moved forward slowly.

  The pilots stayed close.

  The four of them made their way cautiously down the ravaged s
treet, stepped over torn bodies and corpses smashed down deep into the cracked earth. Apparently this was where the fight had ended.

  After a moment of tense silence, Tom whispered loudly to Scott as they followed their armed escorts.

  “Do you think the stampede got them all?”

  Scott started to reply, but stopped short. He had heard something behind them—the cry of a bird, perhaps, a cluttering sound—

  Behind one of the storage buildings, sudden movement. Scott felt his mouth go dry. He had heard it before—

  “Run,” he said, hardly able to get the word out. “Run.”

  * * *

  Dachande heard the Hard Meat and spun around. He sprinted past the two ooman strangers toward the threat, staff forward. He was dimly aware that the small warrior was right behind. It shouted something at the other two.

  They came in a single-file stream, flowed from around a structure, ten, maybe twelve. Dachande leapt to greet them.

  Two arrived first, angled in from the sides. Dachande spun, swung completely around, cut them both through their midsections in one strike. He didn’t watch them hit the ground; there was no need—they were dead and all he need do was avoid the throes.

  He extended his ki’cti-pa and slashed through the throat of the next drone nearest, to his right.

  The drone’s death cry was garbled through its own thwei.

  A split second later, he jabbed the staff point through the jaws of another, twisted the sharp blade and dug a hole through the top of the skull. The weapon’s metal was proof against the Hard Meat’s thwei, but there was no time to hesitate and enjoy the kill—when you fought the ten thousand, you did so one at a time, but you also had to do so quickly—

  He thrust the spear’s butt back, hard, and knocked one behind him down, then turned and slashed its gut. Digest this, foolish creature!

  The ki’cti-pa blurred again, jammed backhand into yet another Hard Meat chest. The drone howled, fell, did not die but did not rise again. Acid pumped into the dark air, pooled, smoking.

  Dachande jumped forward, stabbed the throat of yet another, and then spun to meet the next. Death fell all around his feet as he and the Hard Meat danced.

  * * *

  Noguchi heard what sounded like a bird and turned; Broken Tusk was faster—he ran past the two pilots toward the main storage shed. He was eager and if he had any fear of the dark monsters, it was not apparent.

  “Follow the tower around to the east lock!”

  She would just have to hope that the pilots listened. She hurled herself after the warrior.

  Several of the bugs streamed from behind the shed and toward Broken Tusk. He stepped in to battle without hesitation. Too many of them, ten, twelve. She aimed at one of the bugs—

  —and it was dead before she fired. She took aim again—and again, her target had fallen already.

  She took a step back, transfixed by the swift movements of the giant warrior.

  Here was no inexperienced novice; every step was measured, every strike timed and sure. Within the space of a few seconds, most of the bugs were down, dead or dying. She had enough training to recognize a Master when she saw one. This one’s skill had been gained in battle, against deadly enemies.

  Broken Tusk whirled and jabbed, crouched and slashed with precision and confidence. Never a misstep, never a hesitation. He was no dojo tiger, covered in padding and fighting for points.

  Wherever he had come from, they had a martial arts more complex and dangerous than any she’d ever seen. It was like a choreographed dance—

  Except we don’t have all day.

  She aimed and fired several shots, then aimed and fired again. The last two shrieked and stumbled. Broken Tusk hesitated, confused perhaps, then finished them both with slashes to the gut.

  “Sorry.” Noguchi ejected the spent rounds and slapped in a loader. “But we’ve got to go.”

  Broken Tusk stared at her for a second, then raised one claw—in understanding or camaraderie, she couldn’t know. She returned the move, then started toward the east lock.

  The warrior caught up to her easily, then slowed and strode at her side as they rounded the front of the ops building toward the lock. He made thick growling noises, strange, but somehow not threatening.

  Ahead, the lock was open. Conover stood by the control panel inside, face pale.

  Noguchi heard now familiar chirping noises behind them, not far.

  “Hurry!” Conover shouted.

  Noguchi and Broken Tusk ran through the entry together. The door slammed down.

  A second later there were several thundering crashes. The metal door shook as the nightmare creatures threw themselves at it, but it wouldn’t give.

  Noguchi collapsed against the frame and closed her eyes. They were safe, at least for the moment.

  Safe—and fucked. They hadn’t gotten them all.

  The plan hadn’t worked.

  26

  “So what’s the plan?”

  Noguchi didn’t answer. She continued to take deep breaths, her eyes closed. The giant alien stood at her side, still enough to be a statue. Its face was turned to watch the woman, but the odd mask it wore covered most of any expression it may have had. Given the faces of some of the dead ones who’d lost their masks in the stampede, Scott was just as happy about that. Ugly bastards.

  He stepped away from the door and started to pace. He was feeling pretty goddamn tired of not knowing what was going on.

  “Look, lady, I realize that you’re under a lot of stress, but you do have some idea of what we’re going to do, don’t you? The stampede didn’t work out quite the way it was supposed to, obviously. Now if I were you, I’d start worrying about what—”

  “What?” Noguchi had opened her eyes to reveal an icy anger. “If you were me, you’d worry about what?”

  He shut up. Then, “Well, shit. What next?”

  “Lay off, Scott.” Tom sounded bone-tired.

  Scott looked at his friend and felt his anger spark higher. Tom looked worse than he had before. Whatever he’d picked up was making him really sick. The younger pilot had fallen into a chair and rested his head on a console; his body shook.

  Scott stopped in front of Noguchi and lowered his voice. “My friend is sick, okay? We have to do something.”

  Noguchi smiled softly, humorlessly. “No shit. But unless you or your friend come up with some brilliant revelation, I suggest you shut up; I’ll listen to you when you’ve got something to say.”

  She closed her eyes again.

  The spark fizzled. She was a cold bitch, but he didn’t have any ideas to contribute. And he sure as fuck didn’t want to lead this little party.

  “Right. Sorry, okay? I don’t feel so good. It’s been a bad day.”

  Noguchi nodded, then walked toward an ops panel. “The colonists made it out safely, that’s something. We’ve got power here, and supplies; we can hold out for a while here and come up with something.”

  “There’s a screen still on over here,” Tom said.

  Scott and Noguchi both walked over to where the ailing pilot sat. The giant remained at the door, motionless.

  Across the top of the small console was a series of numbers.

  “That’s my code,” said Noguchi. “It’s a hyperstat from the corporation substation! The æther driver got through.”

  She leaned in front of Tom and punched a few keys excitedly.

  Scott blinked. “Æther driver? What the hell was that? Some new equipment the company was too cheap to put on their ship? Shit.

  He read over her shoulder.

  Attn: Machiko Noguchi, Prosperity Wells/from BAE:683 Takashi Chigusa, New Osaka, re: possible XT specimens. Take steps to preserve all specimens of species described, in Revna’s report; nearest Marine ship will enter area at approx. 5/14. Keep BAE:683 apprised. Await further instructions.

  YFNT677074/TC.

  Noguchi slammed her fist against the screen and stalked over to a chair. She plopped down and p
ut one hand to her forehead.

  “Five weeks,” she said softly. “All we have to do is survive for five weeks.”

  As if on cue, there was another slam to the lock. A creature screamed, the sound muffled through the thick metal.

  “And preserve for them ‘all specimens,’” she said. She laughed. It wasn’t a funny noise.

  Christ. Don’t lose it, lady. We need you.

  * * *

  It was looking hopeless. Noguchi had never felt so frustrated in her life, or so angry. There was nothing she could do—

  “Well, fuck this!” Conover had started pacing again. “I say we scram out of here and join the colonists!”

  She looked up at the red-faced pilot and shook her head. “Yeah? And how long before the bugs run out of food and head into the desert looking for more?”

  Conover dropped his gaze and said nothing.

  “I don’t know about you two, but I’m tired of fucking with all of this. I want to finish this, and I want to finish it now.” She wasn’t sure how, but there had to be a way—

  Conover snorted. “Sure, great. You gonna burn down the whole complex?”

  Strandberg coughed loudly. “That wouldn’t work, too many of them would”—he coughed again—“would get away. It’d have to be something fast.”

  Noguchi started running off possibilities in her head. Maybe they could formulate some kind of bomb, or gas—

  Conover jerked his gaze at Broken Tusk. “Why don’t we ask the hulk over there? Maybe he’s got a death ray or something.”

  Strandberg shook his head. “I’m serious. I think Ms. Noguchi had the right idea with the stampede, crush them like bugs—” He broke into a fit of coughing.

  Noguchi looked at Strandberg with sympathy; he really didn’t look well, and he had at least tried to be helpful—

  The pilot had regained his wind and raised one hand weakly. “Something big enough to take out the complex and the ship at once—”

  Conover interrupted angrily, “Forget it! I can’t even believe you’d bring it up!”

  Noguchi stood and faced the asshole pilot. “Don’t hold out on me, Conover! If you know something that might stop those things—”

  Strandberg started coughing again.