by Steve Perry
He smiled gently at the ragged trio, remembering the psych profiles, open conversation to begin, see which way they’re already leaning…
“My name is Lucas Briggs,” he said, letting the little smile fade, letting his face take on the sadness that their drama inspired. “As a Weyland/Yutani representative, please allow me to express our deepest sympathies to you for what you must have experienced on DS 949. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there’s a possibility that one of our executives may have been involved in perpetuating this tragedy. I want to assure you that the matter will be thoroughly investigated.”
No one spoke, although Briggs saw that they were listening very carefully. He looked down, a touch of embarrassment in his gaze when he raised his head again.
“On a more personal note, I’d like to apologize for keeping you here all day, it’s entirely my fault. I’d asked Mr. Vincent to hold you until I arrived, and there were some mechanical problems on my ship, a connection break… in any case, I meant to be here hours ago and was unable to send a message to tell him I was delayed. I’m truly sorry, and if you’d like to take showers or eat before we talk, stretch your legs, perhaps, I’d understand.”
It was Katherine Lara who shook her head, taking the lead. “No, thank you. We’re fine.”
Briggs nodded, relief in his eyes, that’s what you think, you people need to bathe, smiling a little. “Well, that’s good. I won’t keep you any longer than necessary.”
So far, not much of a read. Lara was nervous, but obviously still the one to negotiate with. The convict, Jess, held so very still that Briggs decided he was probably struggling to hold his temper; his profile suggested anger problems. And Ellis seemed—tired, perhaps. Dazed. Briggs couldn’t see his alleged injury and decided that it was probably some sort of head trauma. They were all still listening, that was the important thing; the bit about a Company exec being involved should have erased any doubts they had about his honesty, and his apology for keeping them waiting had established his sincerity.
Now, then. They’re as ready as they’re going to be.
Briggs clasped his hands in front of him, as if pleased and excited about what he was going to say next. Nice, not to have to fake all of it.
* * *
The suit was so full of shit, he squeaked. Jess had been a little surprised at the admission of Company involvement, but it was as carefully designed as the rest of his patronizing little act.
“Trust me, I’m your friend”—the windup, and… here’s the pitch!
“The Company has authorized me to make retribution to you, for the terrible losses you’ve suffered,” Briggs said, his black eyes shining as though he were about to give them some incredible gift. “Substantial retribution. Not only will you receive the Nemesis’s full bonus, we want to make certain that all of you feel that your futures are secure with Weyland/Yutani.”
Arrogant, lying, backstabbing bastard—
“Whether or not you decide to continue with the Company, we’ll see to it that your contracts are renegotiated to bring you the financial gain and freedom that you deserve, for having been the unfortunate victims in this matter. Whether or not a Company employee was involved, the incident at 949 never should have happened.”
Briggs finally paused, apparently having shoveled enough for the moment. The twin muscle boys hovered in the background, arms crossed, their faces unreadable. Kevin Vincent, the asshole who’d kept them stuck on the shuttle all day, was the only one with any expression at all—and he looked mildly terrified.
Jess wanted to spit in the suit’s eye, but kept his face as blank as the threatening bookends that flanked the Max; he’d promised to keep cool, Lara was calling this one and he wasn’t going to blow it.
“We—appreciate this, Mr. Briggs,” Lara said, “really. But all we want is to get back to Earth, try to put all this behind us.”
Briggs nodded, smiling even wider, and for the first time since he’d come aboard, Jess saw the thread of steel buried beneath the layers of plastic.
Will the real Lucas Briggs, please stand up…
“Whatever you want. I’ll make the arrangements tonight.” The grin sharpened, glittering as brightly as his eyes. “Although there are a few final details that I need to get confirmation on, before we conclude our business. Specifically, there was a ship’s log that was supposed to be downloaded to the Nemesis, from a Company transport on board the DS station. The Trader?”
Lara had this one nailed. He’s good, but not as good as he thinks.
Lara nodded slowly. “We downloaded it.”
Briggs was dancing inside, Jess could see it. He shot a glance at Ellis, but the kid didn’t seem to be tuned in, he was watching the bodyguards. Or maybe the Max.
“To Nemesis?” Briggs asked, too quickly.
Lara shook her head. “No. Well, originally to the Nemesis, but there were some problems with the initial transfer, so we backed it up. I sent a locked copy to one of Pop’s—Commander Izzard’s—personal channels. He had a few accounts that weren’t on Company file.”
She smiled weakly before pushing on, a sheepish look on her face. Jess was impressed.
“I know it’s not reg, but he seemed to think it was important to have a duplicate—and it was an order. And since the Nemesis was destroyed…”
Briggs tried to put on a look of admonishment, but couldn’t quite pull it off. “You’re right, it wasn’t regulation. Personal transfers of Company information is not only unethical, it’s illegal.” A pause, a conspiratorial look that made Jess grind his teeth. “But, since you’ve admitted it openly and you were following his orders, I see no reason for any disciplinary action…”
He smiled, the all-forgiving suit once again. “…and to be honest, that log is important to Weyland/Yutani. I’m just glad it survived the, ah, tragedy.”
You used that one already, Briggs, how ’bout “catastrophe,” or maybe “misadventure”? Jess hated him and what he stood for, he was a liar and a front man for liars, for murderers, keep it together, Jess, don’t give in—
Another shark’s smile, and a nod to one of his guards. “So… account number?”
Lara met his gaze evenly. “I’d like some insurance first, Mr. Briggs. That we’ll have safe passage back to Earth. In fact, I’d like to get to Earth before we turn that information over to you.”
Briggs frowned, still smiling. “Ms. Lara, you have my word.”
That was it. Before he could stop himself, Jess opened his mouth.
“We all know what that’s worth, don’t we?” Jess sneered. “Come off it, we know what you’re trying to cover up, so stop already with your fuckin’ song and dance!”
Silence, and everyone was looking at him, and Jess was too pissed to care, the man was a goddamn liar, if he was going to bribe them, at least let him be up front about it, about something. Jess didn’t give a shit if Briggs killed him, there was a redness in front of his eyes that pounded at him, heat and fury, making him clench his fists and step toward the lying murderer—
—and the resignation and sorrow on Lara’s face stopped him. It wasn’t just his life. Jess closed his eyes for a second, forcing the red haze away, forcing some measure of control back.
Fix it, gotta fix it—
“Jess—” Lara said, but Briggs cut her off, fixing his now not-so-warm gaze on Jess’s. The guards didn’t move away from the back wall, but they unfolded their arms, watching closely.
“And just what am I trying to ‘cover up’?” Briggs asked.
Jess took a deep breath, exhaled it sharply. He hadn’t screwed it for them, not yet, he could still salvage Lara’s plan.
If I’m careful, very fucking careful.
“What the Company did to those people,” he said, working his anger, watching Briggs’s eyes for any hint that the suit wasn’t buying it. Briggs didn’t twitch one way or the other, play it through—
“You want the log, you’re going to have to give us a little more than new contract n
egotiations,” he snapped. “Lara and Ellis and I want to be the hell away from you before we give it up—and we’re looking for bigger money than a goddamn H/K bonus.”
There was another silence, long enough for Jess to realize that the impassive Briggs knew he was faking. It was over, he’d just committed suicide and dragged Lara and the kid along for the ride. His temper, his goddamn temper, Lara, Ellis, I’m so sorry—
Briggs grinned—then laughed, shaking his head. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped half an octave, becoming as cold and hard as only a heartless suit’s could be. No more apologies, no more playing.
“All right, you’ve got us,” he said. “Let’s talk numbers.”
Jess wanted to be relieved, but could still feel the rage swirling in his gut like some boiling river. And every second they were with Briggs, it was going to get harder and harder to control.
* * *
Lara felt her insides melt. Briggs had bought it, Jess had pulled it off, but it had been close. She’d known Jess long enough to know that he’d been doing some serious dancing to cover for a slip, and she wasn’t going to risk letting it happen again.
As if I could stop it… She had to try. Ellis was getting worse; he’d been dreamily silent most of the afternoon and was now watching all of them as though he were some distant observer. They had to get him to a doc, and fuck the Company anyway. They could file charges when and if they made it home.
She cleared her throat, drawing the exec’s attention back to her. “We can worry about that after you get us the hell off of this rock,” she said coolly, continuing Jess’s ploy. “Don’t worry, we won’t ask for more than we think it’s worth. Now, why don’t you see what you can do about a ship?”
Briggs laughed again, all pretense of sympathy and sincerity gone, and Lara felt her own anger rise up. She’d never loved the Company, but hadn’t hated them, either, not until Pop had admitted his orders from Grigson. This man was laughing over the graves of hundreds.
She shot a warning glance at Jess, hoping to God that he didn’t lose it again.
Briggs finally chuckled to a stop. “Of course, of course. I can’t tell you how—surprised I am, I suppose you could say. I had no idea that the three of you would turn out to be… Company loyal.”
Jess smiled, but his eyes were dangerously bright. “Are you kidding? A break like this doesn’t come by every day, not for people like us.”
Jess, don’t, don’t fuck around—
Briggs nodded. “Once in a lifetime. We’ve experimented before, but this was the first full-scale operation.”
“Really?” Jess asked. “I would have thought—”
“Jess, I want to get out of here, get a bath,” Lara interrupted, praying that she sounded casually disinterested in their conversation, praying that he’d shut the hell up. “And Ellis needs to get some rest, remember?”
“I’m okay,” Ellis said, looking at Briggs as if seeing him for the first time. “What were some of the experiments?”
Fuck.
Briggs lowered his voice conversationally, leaning toward them with a smug half smile. Now that he wasn’t pretending to be their favorite uncle, he’d relaxed considerably.
“I’m really not at liberty to discuss these things,” he said, with the tone of a man who wanted very much to discuss them. To tell them how extremely clever he was. “I mean, you understand how important it is for the Company to maintain its edge over the competition, and what the XT means to our military applications programs… so let’s just say that nobody would want to buy what we’re selling if they didn’t have the proper documentation. DS 949 was specific to how fast an infestation spreads through an isolated community, but we’ve also done extensive work in other arenas. I’m sure you can deduce the rest.”
Oh, God. Oh my God.
“It wasn’t an accident,” Jess said dully, and Lara didn’t know how to stop him, didn’t know if she could, her mind reeling. She felt sick, and shocked beyond simple repair.
On purpose, they did it on purpose, and sent us in to gather the results…
Briggs’s eyes narrowed at Jess’s tone, but he didn’t seem to understand, not yet. “Of course it wasn’t an accident. Believe me, it wasn’t a decision that was made lightly, either. We had several billion dollars invested in that installation. And we did not tell Commander Izzard to kill you people, I hope you understand that…”
He trailed off, looking between the three of them, the realization dawning in his eyes.
“You don’t have it, do you?” He asked.
Amazingly, it was Ellis who had the presence of mind to answer him. “Oh, we have it. And if anything happens to us—”
“You fucking bastard!”
Jess leapt for Briggs, his eyes wild, spittle flying from his lips. He grabbed the surprised exec’s shoulders, still screaming, shaking him.
“They fucking DIED, they died, do you fucking understand—”
“Keene, Nirasawa!”
Jess was hauled off of the sputtering Briggs by the guards, his furious shouts cut short by a sharp, violent jab to the gut from the blond man. The Japanese grunt put one hand on Lara’s shoulder, one on Ellis’s, and squeezed hard enough that tears sprang to Lara’s eyes. Behind them, Vincent let out a surprised squeak.
Gasping and doubled over, Jess vomited bile on the shuttle floor. Briggs stepped back, a sneer of distaste on his thin lips, straightening his suit with quick, angry fingers.
“Keene, again,” Briggs said.
With a small, mean smile, the blond held on to Jess’s collar, half-supporting him, Jess still trying to get his air back. Keene punched him once in the face, a hard blow to the jaw that rocked Jess’s head back. Blood flew from his gasping lips.
“I will have that access code, make no mistake,” Briggs spat, staring straight into Lara’s wet gaze. “The only question is, how long will your friends have to suffer before you give it to me?”
17
Irwin was as drop-dead as Windy remembered, bright, casually sexy, and possessing a mouth that she probably shouldn’t kiss her mother with; he liked that in a woman, femme types could be such a drag, and though they’d only flirted around back in training, he was hopeful for what the evening might bring.
They sat in control, sharing a flask of inexpensive blended synth and catching up. The door to the main observation deck was standing open, the soft night sounds of the jungle floating in on a balmy breeze, and they were alone, except for Evans. Technically, Windy was still on duty until midnight, but there weren’t going to be any calls coming in; the most excitement they’d had in months was already parked outside, and Evans was catching a nap in the corner, drooling on his own arm. If Windy got tipped and anything important happened, he’d just wake him up; Evans owed him, anyway.
“…so I’m screaming emergency, the intake spike is hitching and my VTOL is out, right?” Irwin said. “And the dumb bitch tells me that she can’t clear me until I send her my compressor reads.”
Windy laughed, keeping his voice low. He didn’t want to wake Evans up. “What did you say?”
Irwin grinned. “I told her, ‘I’m about to drop six gross of barrel fuel oil all over your goddamn strip,’ and if she wanted my reads, she could read them off her own ass after I branded ’em there.”
“And what’d she say?”
“She told me I was cleared to land, not even a blink.” Irwin sipped from the flask, handing it back to Windy. “I made it down, obviously. But I found out later, she walked the same day. Said she couldn’t take the pressure.”
Windy laughed again, shaking his head. “She should’ve taken this job. In the last eight months, I’ve landed four ships, including that shuttle and you. Most of my working time is spent listening to air and playing cards with Evans, or Tom Cabot…”
Irwin raised her arms over her head and stretched as he spoke, a movement that did wonders for his point of view. She caught his appraising look and deliberately shook her chest from side to si
de, grinning widely.
“Enjoy it, Windy, it’s as close as you’re going to get,” she said sweetly. “Probably.”
“Probably?” he asked. “Any chance of upgrading?”
Irwin shrugged, reaching for the whiskey. “We’ll see. So, no interesting stories, huh? No wild-animal attacks out here? No secret jungle cults? Station fever?”
Windy sighed. “No. Hey, a couple of our survey guys went missing today, does that count?”
Irwin shook her head. “Probably not… although that reminds me, I saw something when I was coming in, couple of klicks that way—” She pointed vaguely south. “Flash of light, real brief.”
Windy frowned. “Huh. Maybe that’s them. We don’t have any perimeter set up, so it had to be—”
Ka-chink!
From just outside, like something metal being dropped onto the deck.
“What’s that?” Irwin asked nervously.
Windy didn’t know. “Something fell off one of the landing decks, maybe…”
There was a shuffling sound, like leaves brushing one of the smaller stabilizing envelopes—and then a soft clattering sound, like a bone rattle being shook underwater. They both stood up, looking toward the open door, Windy suddenly feeling stone sober in spite of how much drink he’d had. Eight months of quiet Bunda nights, learning every natural sound that the planet had to offer, and he’d never heard anything like that.
“Something hanging off the platform, scraping the trees or something?” Irwin asked.
Windy shook his head. It was a calm night, and the nav computers automatically adjusted for flux when the wind was blowing. He knew he should take charge, walk out and look around and tell Irwin that it was nothing—but he didn’t want to go outside. In fact, he felt quite strongly that it was a shitty idea.
Don’t be a wooze, not with her watching!
He was being stupid, and he also knew the longer he waited, the less he’d feel like moving. It was five meters to the door and he could see the deck past it, a piece of railing against a backdrop of darkness. Nothing, there was nothing there.
