Aliens vs Predator Omnibus

by Steve Perry

  A lot of ifs, a lot of hoping. Briggs sighed and stood up, already feeling like he needed another massage. He knew there was no point in worrying about it; they’d either turn up or they wouldn’t, and he hadn’t made it into the upper brackets of Weyland/Yutani by agonizing over things he couldn’t control. And it wasn’t as though Zen’s Respite was such a bad place to wait. The Company’s complex had four excellent restaurants, a full holovid rec room, and was within easy distance of a half dozen highly ranked organic gardens.

  And there’s the suite-level staff, of course. Selee’ was able enough, but the brochure also listed several employees with skills and attributes that he wouldn’t mind tasting. For 47 TS, he was in excellent shape, still perfectly capable of enjoying the satiation of his appetites. In fact, there was a particularly flexible young woman he’d heard about who could supposedly do things he’d only read about…

  Briggs stretched his arms over his head and headed for the bathroom, deciding that he would relax; he always negotiated best when he was rested, and if—when the 949 fugitive turned up, he’d want to be fully prepared. Grigson had fumbled the ball and he’d been given the opportunity of a lifetime. If he pulled it off, he could write his own ticket. And if he fucked it up…

  “Lucas Briggs does not fuck up,” he said, his voice strong and even as he stepped into the elegant bathroom and tapped the shower to life. He didn’t and wouldn’t. Positive thinking, that was the key. And if his negotiation skills weren’t enough to convince their wayward traveler, he’d resort to whatever method seemed appropriate.

  Humming to himself, Briggs stripped and stepped into the steaming shower. And after a moment, he put a call in to the service staff and asked for that flexible young woman to join him.

  As it turned out, she was able to make him forget all about DS 949, at least for a little while.

  6

  Noguchi led the Hunters back to the ship, assigned to the advance guard position; it was another slap, although not as bad as it could have been. Considering how angry Topknot had been, she supposed she should be grateful that he hadn’t sent her ahead to open the dock; Shorty suffered that particular dishonor, and the look he gave her as he shoved past reminded Noguchi that she’d need to watch her back for a while.

  The swarm of bugs moved out of the queen’s path, falling back in ripples of hissing black. Noguchi walked slowly forward, determined to stay in position no matter what happened behind her—which, from the screams of the bound queen and the grunts of yautja exertion, was a heated struggle. It wasn’t all that hard to ignore; the sight of hundreds, thousands of the cluttering, trumpeting animals stepping aside to let them pass was an experience unlike any other. They parted like a living sea, smoothly sidling back, their heavy clawed feet tearing tracks in the muddy ground, the tracks filling with water and reflecting deadly darkness.

  As they got closer to the ship, Noguchi started to breathe deeper, preparing herself for the probable conflict. The queen was smart enough to understand that boarding the ship wasn’t what she wanted to be doing; Topknot had informed them that eight of ten queens taken as Hunt seeders tried to break away at the ramp, as soon as they realized that there wouldn’t be another chance. Once the door was shut behind them, the danger was just as great; the queen might try to tear loose in a suicide run through the ship, forcing the yautja to take her out if she didn’t fall for the “open” nest. The Hunters believed that, like themselves, a bug queen preferred death to captivity; having had her own experience with a rampaging queen, Noguchi agreed—although she also thought that the creature simply wanted to slaughter as many of her enemies as possible, whatever the consequences.

  Which all means that we’re not in the clear until she’s nested and tied. The thought made her feel a little better about having been assigned to safer, less honorable positions for this Hunt. If the queen went into a frenzy once aboard, every Hunter shared responsibility for getting her back under control. Clan rules for Hunting were sacred, but they didn’t apply to the ship—and that meant she had as much right as anyone to exhibit her skills.

  Shorty had lowered the dock, the wide ramp settled in the marshy ground, a jutting mouth in the ship’s swollen belly. Noguchi couldn’t make the sounds that were the ship’s name, and its twisting, bulbous shape defied simple description, but she thought it looked something like a seashell, sometimes thinking of it as Shell.

  They were less than a dozen meters from the ramp, the ocean of sibilant drones hunched and watching blindly, their grins dripping strings of drool to the swampy ground. Noguchi was tensed, ready to spin around the instant she set foot on the ramp and there was no longer need for her position. When the queen made her move, she wasn’t going to be caught off guard—

  —and all at once the sea erupted, a thousand bugs throwing their heads back and screaming, the piercing cacophony shockingly painful—and as one, they leapt toward the band of Hunters, called to fight by some unseen signal from their dark mother.

  Shit! The queen had chosen to risk the lives of her unborn against the lives of her own children—and had put the Hunters in a world of hurt.

  She couldn’t hear Topknot but was close enough to the ramp; one leap forward and her boot touched the ridged metal. She whipped around, firing into the oncoming horde, multiple blasts from the burner taking out three lunging drones in a single sweep.

  From the edge of her vision, she saw only black darting bodies where the capture team had been—but the queen’s comb was visible, tossing back and forth above the screaming onslaught. They still had her.

  Everything happened too fast and too slow, fragments of action and the pulse of her heart twisting everything into flashes, didn’t expect this—

  Noguchi saw one, two of the young Hunters reach the platform, turning to fire, felt and saw the ship’s covering blast, a lightning streak from above slamming a smoking hole through the brutal charge. The bass rumble was swallowed up by the shrill screams of the bugs, by the pounding of their running limbs against the wet ground.

  She fired again and again as the battle raged, as the drones sacrificed themselves against the ragged wall of melting burner heat. Acid-splash hit the ramp and bubbled uselessly against the treated material—but not so ineffective against one of the young Hunters when his mask slipped or was torn away. Noguchi only saw the flailing arms and the blinded face, oozing green as the novice collapsed near her feet.

  For some indeterminate time there was only the fight, the stink of burning muck and the strobe of the ship’s weapons. Noguchi fired and backed up the ramp, fired, a step at a time, knowing that the mission objective still stood above all else. If the capture team could get the queen into the ship, Topknot would bring the ramp up. Anyone not aboard would be fucked, and honor or no, Noguchi didn’t mean to die such a pointless death.

  She was almost at the ship’s wide-open dock, the heat and the strobe of the burner blasts from inside washing across the ramp, when she heard Topknot, his shrill, mechanically amplified whistle commanding the Hunters to look for him. The capture team had managed to get this bug queen to the bottom of the ramp and the Leader’s raised, jerking fist meant it was time to board.

  Still firing, Noguchi hustled backwards, saw the struggling team hauling their prize up to the ship—and saw that at least three of the novice Hunters weren’t going to make it. They were too far away; unless they turned tail and sprinted for the ship, they were bug food. Even if the yautja culture allowed such cowardice, the young Hunters would be torn apart the second they stopped firing.

  Honorable, they die with honor at least… The only consolation there was, that they would be remembered.

  Halfway up the ramp. Topknot gave the command to close the dock. With Shell still firing into the horde, the wide slab of light metal pulled smoothly up into the ship, lifting the queen and her captors, Noguchi watching as the obedient drones continued to throw themselves into certain death. As the ramp closed, she caught a last glimpse of the doomed trio, still bl
asting away at the trumpeting assault.

  The queen’s furious cry seemed like a whisper after the screams of so many, but the desperate rage carried—

  —and Noguchi saw that what was left of the team wouldn’t be able to hold her. Two of the rope holders were gone, a third badly wounded, barely able to stand. The attack was a surprise, the queen’s decision to use her children to save herself unprecedented, at least as far as Noguchi knew—and the Hunters hadn’t been prepared. In all, six of the thirteen queen Hunters had been lost.

  Topknot was clattering at the remnants of his group, calling for the nest hatch to be opened, calling for the untrained yautja to get out of the way as he snatched at one of the loose ropes, dropping his burner.

  Noguchi sidled backwards toward the nesting room, watching the queen pull and strain at her bonds as the Hunters brought her under control. The “nest,” a massive, heavily reinforced chamber designed to hold the bug mother, wasn’t far from the dock opening, thirty meters of bare floor between the two doors. The Hunters had designed the lowest levels of their seeding ships with bug behavior in mind; with her exit back to the planet’s surface blocked, she should willingly go into the nest, the only direction left for her. Once trapped inside, she would be lured to the back of the chamber and temporarily restrained by hanging ropes, until the yautja could bind her more permanently—she’d be strapped to a wall, gagged and shackled, as helpless to the Hunters as she was to her own biological drives. An egg-layer, bearing seeds for the Hunt for as long as the yautja wanted her.

  Most of the observation windows were small and filtered, the queen seeming to prefer darkness for nesting, but the main hatch had a wide oblong, clear as glass. A spot next to the door would also mean that the captured queen would be passing close enough for Noguchi to touch—

  —except they couldn’t keep her. Noguchi was only a few meters from the open hatch when she glanced back and saw that Scar had lost his grip. She saw it and then saw the wounded Hunter, a novice she called Slats, drop his own rope and crumple to the deck.

  Next to her, a surprised hiss, an untrained yautja diving away from the hatch controls—

  —and the freed queen screamed, ripping the last ropes away from the team, fixing her sightless, slavering face toward the opening not ten meters in front of her. The nest, where they wanted her to go. Where Noguchi stood, blocking her path. She automatically raised the burner as the queen lunged forward. A few well-placed bursts and

  —can’t—

  Noguchi threw the burner, the queen close enough for her to see the bubbles in her dripping string of saliva, see the stainless teeth of her inner jaws snap—

  —and crunch on the weapon’s thickness. Noguchi spun and ran into the chamber, the close sounds of rending metal lending her speed. Her racing thoughts, her plans, were shadowed by a burst of self-disgust as she tore through the humid, echoing dark of the nest.

  Run run circle left goddamn honor—

  Killing the queen would have been easy—and it would have made the deaths of the other Hunters a waste, and she couldn’t even blame their strange culture for her decision. This was her own honor at stake.

  Noguchi sprinted, arms pumping, fully aware that the queen was faster. All she heard was the thunder of the animal’s pursuit, all she felt was the knot of ice in her belly, the inner flinch of each heartbeat that told her she would be jerked into the air and hurled into blackness before she even felt the pain

  —now now NOW!

  She could feel the air sliced behind and above and she threw herself left, tucking smoothly into a shoulder roll and coming up running, not looking back.

  The queen shrieked, a terrible sound but one that filled Noguchi’s every fiber with a kind of restrained relief. The enormous bug mother was fast but heavy, unable to change direction easily; the frustrated cry came from near the back of the giant chamber and Noguchi was already halfway back to the door, only twenty meters—

  —almost, almost there and she’s trapped—

  —and when she saw Topknot step into the opening, a flush of pride added length to her strides, her heart pounding with more than just adrenaline. She’d done the right thing, acted as bravely as any Blooded Hunter—

  —and so sure was she that her prowess would finally be acknowledged by the Leader, she mistook his signal for one of celebration, a twist of talon that meant “victory.” It wasn’t until she actually saw the silhouette of the Leader disappearing, saw the ring of faces appear at the window and heard the massive, resounding whoom of the hatch slamming down that she realized what had happened.

  Topknot had signaled victory, but not to Noguchi. And behind her, the queen signaled her own triumph, a scream of bloodlust that pounded at Noguchi even as her ringing, shuddering footfalls pounded at the floor.

  7

  “…this message. Repeat: this is the shuttle from the Weyland/Yutani ship Nemesis, requesting emergency assistance from any ship or outpost receiving this message…”

  Ellis’s soft voice droned on, carrying back to where the Max rested, to where Lara and Jess drifted silently. The young tech had been at it for almost three hours and still managed to sound hopeful, as if he believed his voice might actually reach farther than the distress beacon. As if with each pause, he expected to hear a reply.

  “Anyone listening would’ve picked up our code hours ago,” Jess said quietly, a touch of concern in his deep voice. Lara was glad to hear it; maybe it was selfish on her part, but Jess had tuned in again and it was a relief to have him back.

  She shrugged. “Let him talk, if it makes him feel better.”

  Jess sighed. “Yeah. What the hell, right?”

  Rhetorical. Lara nodded anyway, wondering if the time was right to bring up what she’d been thinking about. With both men so fragile, she’d been hesitant to talk about the specifics of what needed to be done—but she knew that she didn’t want to spend her last minutes of consciousness trying to breathe, and she needed to know what position they would take.

  I can do myself, but they might need help, Ellis, anyway. And is either of them strong enough to watch if I’m the only one wanting to sign out early?

  “Still got Pop’s standard issue?”

  Lara blinked, then nodded again. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one considering their options.

  “Twelve rounds,” she said, before he could ask.

  Jess looked at her, and she was grateful to see how composed he was. “Talked to Ellis yet?”

  “Not yet.” Lara smiled a little. “There’s not really any casual way to slip it into a conversation.”

  Jess grinned suddenly, his gaze glittering with humor that she’d thought he’d lost. “Oh, I don’t know. How ’bout, ‘So, got any plans for how you wanna buy it? I hear getting shot’s not so bad; pass the coffee, wouldya?’”

  Lara was surprised into an actual giggle. It was a small sound, but it made her feel a hell of a lot better—and she thought that if she had to go anyway, at least her final hours would be with someone like Martin Jess. Whatever he’d done in the past, he was a good man.

  “Want me to talk to him?” Jess asked, his smile fading.

  Lara shook her head. “I can do it. Might as well wait a little longer, though. He’s… he’s still got hope, you know?”

  He knew. She could see it in the dark depths of his eyes. Hope was a fleeting thing, something that shouldn’t be ripped away before it had a chance to dwindle on its own. She was only a few years older than Ellis, but like Jess, she had no illusions about their situation; if Ellis was still able to find comfort in his, she didn’t want to deny him that.

  “Do you think they’re looking for us?” Jess asked. “For that download?”

  There was a thread of anger in his voice that she hadn’t heard before. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter, does it?”

  Jess shrugged. “I guess not. I’m—I gotta admit, I wouldn’t mind running into a Company crew right about now, and not just to save our butts.”

/>   His tone was mild but his eyes narrowed, the set of his jaw and the tic high on his cheek telling her more perhaps than he wanted to reveal. “Fuck ’em, right?”

  Definitely anger, and he meant it. Lara nodded slowly, thinking that misplaced hope wasn’t the only thing that could keep someone going.

  Ellis has his rescue dreams, and it seems that Jess has revenge…

  “I’m gonna go see how he’s holding up,” Jess said, and moved away, leaving Lara alone. Leaving her wondering what she had, what was keeping her from collapse.

  “I’m a goddamn Marine,” she mumbled, the soft words filling her with an odd mix of amusement, embarrassment and pride. Out of practice maybe, running transmission lines on a corporate payroll, but the Corps was the Corps; as the saying went, she didn’t get to die without permission.

  Semper fi, sir, yes sir. Not much, maybe, but it beats the hell out of feeling sorry for myself.

  It’d do. Lara mentally squared her shoulders and headed up to the front, Ellis’s soft voice still droning on, his words surely disappearing, unheard, into the blank waves of emptiness that would be their tomb.

  * * *

  Briggs liked to think of himself as a thoughtful man, but the garden so originally titled “Sand” was peaceful to the point of coma-inducing. He sat on a small stone bench at the edge of a vast, carefully raked field of white grit, wondering what genius had marketed a giant sandbox as art. He could understand the appeal, he supposed, if one liked staring at waves of lines and contemplating “beingness,” but he wasn’t that one.

  Briggs glanced at his watch and then sighed, gazing back out at the flat, featureless sea. He’d have to give it another ten or fifteen minutes. Heiro Fujiyami probably wouldn’t bother looking at Briggs’s Respite itinerary, but it would be well worth an hour of boredom if he did; Sand was Fujiyami’s favorite, and his vote would carry at least two of the others along when it came time for the Board to elect their new member.