Alien

by Tim Lebbon

  And there was something else. Maybe he didn’t actually deserve hope, but Ripley did. She had been through far too much to just die out here.

  The mine was familiar territory. The lights still worked, and as they moved through the tunnels of the lowest parts of level 9 toward the second elevator shaft, Hoop waited for their way to be blocked once again. Those things had been in here, building their strange constructions—nests, traps, homes. But maybe between here and the elevator it would be clear. Maybe fate had cut them a break.

  But he knew the pursuing aliens would find their way. They had Ripley’s scent, and their blood was up, their hatred and fury, their ferocity, richer than ever before. He saw no need to tell the others, but he made sure they moved quickly, quietly. They all understood the urgency. They’d all been through too much to slow down now.

  “It’s close!” Baxter said. “I recognize this place. Just around this next corner, I think.” He’d been down in the mines more than any of them, and Hoop hoped he was right. And when they turned the next corner, there it was.

  The elevator shaft stood in the center of a wide-open area, ceiling propped by metal columns. It seemed whole, undamaged, untouched. The shaft was set in a heavy network of metal stanchions. The elevator car was parked on this floor, too, which meant the miners had all used the other one to flee to the surface.

  “Something’s bound to be wrong with it,” Lachance said, and Hoop actually guffawed.

  “Just live with the fact we’ve been given a break,” he said. “Come on. Everyone inside, quickly.”

  He waited beside the elevator while Baxter checked the controls. Power was still on, and when he pressed at the buttons, the cage door slid open to reveal the elevator car. As with the one that had crashed, the walls were of mesh and struts, the floor a solid sheet. No mirrors, no music. There was no need for luxuries in a mine.

  Sneddon stood close to Hoop, swaying slowly from side to side.

  “You feeling okay?” he asked.

  Sneddon nodded. “Thirsty,” she croaked.

  “Won’t be long now.” He looked past her at Ripley. She was staring, frowning deeply. She’d placed herself at the far side of the elevator doors, and even as they started filing aboard, she kept her eyes on the science officer, and tried to steer clear of her.

  “Ripley?” he asked softly. But she looked at him and shook her head. She knew as well as any of them that they had to leave this level. Anything else was of a lesser priority.

  She’s carrying one of those things, Hoop thought, glancing at Sneddon again. She looked tired, but herself. He’d seen them on the viewing screen, from inside Samson, bursting from chests. He’d listened to Ripley’s story about the crew member on her ship, how he’d effected a miraculous recovery, only to be ripped apart an hour later.

  Sneddon seemed fine. But she was living on borrowed time.

  Maybe she knew that.

  He stepped into the elevator, and instantly it felt as if they were rising. A weight fell from him. He slumped against the wall and sighed, closing his eyes, and as the doors slid closed he seemed to be waiting forever for the sound they made when they came together.

  “We’re looking good,” Baxter said. “I think we might—”

  The impact was massive, smashing against the doors, bowing them inward. A fresh crash came from another side, and another, and then all four sides of the enclosed elevator shaft were being assaulted from outside, aliens smashing against the mesh again and again. Metal creaked and tore, and Hoop heard the distinctive snap! as a set of teeth crunched together.

  They all moved away from the walls, colliding in the center of the elevator and huddling there. Hoop trained his spray gun on the walls, the others aimed their weapons, but none of them could fire. Acid would splash and kill them all, plasma would surge across the inner surfaces. Closed away from the aliens at last, they also found themselves nalyseess.

  “Press the fucking button!” Lachance screamed at Baxter.

  More banging, rending metal, and the rage-filled hissing of the creatures trying their best to reach their prey.

  Baxter didn’t hesitate. He lunged for the control panel and slapped his open hand on the button labeled “4”.

  If he’d stepped carefully he might have been all right. If panic and fear hadn’t slammed him against the lift cage wall, perhaps he’d have been able to jump lightly back into the center. But the instant the car began to rise, an alien’s head burst through the gap between doors, bending and ripping them apart. It thrashed and twisted as it tried to force itself inside. Moments later its teeth flashed out and struck hard against Baxter’s right shoulder. They chewed so rapidly that they burrowed through his jacket, skin, flesh, and clamped tight around his scapular.

  Baxter screamed, eyes wide. The alien pulled, tugging him halfway through the ragged hole it had created.

  They were rising.

  Hoop went to help, grabbing at the comm officer’s belt, Lachance doing the same on the other side. The alien’s clawed hand slashed in, and Hoop only just let go in time. He held Baxter’s legs instead, pulling as hard as he could, gritting his teeth, vision blurring with the effort.

  The cage rattled violently.

  Baxter began screaming because he knew what was to come. He was stuck fast halfway through the opening, and they pulled one way while the alien tugged the other, rising and dangling from the suffering man as the lift took its prey out of reach.

  Whether or not the alien let go, Hoop did not know. But he closed his eyes as Baxter struck the first of the crossbeams forming the shaft’s superstructure. The man’s cry instantly cut off and was replaced with the most dreadful sound of ripping, tearing, crushing.

  He suddenly became very light. Hoop turned around and let go as something splashed down onto the elevator’s floor.

  “Oh, God!” someone said.

  They continued rising. Below them the cacophony persisted as aliens smashed against the walls. But the elevator accelerated, rapidly passing level 8 and speeding up even more. Hoop’s stomach dropped. And when he turned around and looked at what was left of Baxter, he wasn’t the only one to fall to his knees and puke.

  * * *

  Ripley covered him up. He’d been torn in half just below his ribcage, and his legs and lower body had dropped to the elevator floor. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the broken ankle. Baxter’s foot lay at an odd angle, and the heavy padding they’d used to try and splint the break had come unraveled. He’d struggled so long on that, and for so far, because he wanted to survive.

  Of course he did.

  They all wanted to survive, and they’d do anything to do so. Baxter had run and walked on a broken ankle, going through untold pain. And now...

  She only looked briefly before dropping her suit jacket across the ruined, open part of him. Things that should never be outside a body were splashed across the elevator floor, and her jacket covered most of them.

  She was cold, her tattered thermal vest doing little to hold in her body heat. But she’d rather be cold than stare at what was left of that poor man. Her stomach rolled a little, more at the stench of vomit than what she had seen.

  Am I just stronger? she thought. Have I just seen too much? Is it that I expect the worst, so it doesn’t worry me? She wasn’t sure.

  Maybe it was because she had something more on her mind.

  She turned her back on Baxter, picked up his dropped plasma torch, and checked out Sneddon. The science officer seemed to be in reasonable shape, and there was even color in her cheeks again. She was quiet, leaning against the elevator wall and staring into some distance only she could see.

  “How do you feel?” Ripley asked.

  “Yeah,” Sneddon said. “Yeah, good. Weird dreams. But I’m okay.”

  “You know what happened to you.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yes, I know.”

  Ripley nodded, looked around. The others were staring at her. I’m the stranger here, she thought. Her
gaze rested on Hoop, and she couldn’t quite read him. They were all tired, shocked from Baxter’s gruesome demise. She couldn’t say anything yet. She just couldn’t.

  “She’ll be fine,” Hoop said. “We have a med-pod on the Marion that can—”

  “It’s okay,” Ripley said, turning away. She breathed hard. The sensation of movement from the elevator had been startling—still was—probably made worse by the walls distorted by the alien attack. She felt suddenly sick. But she swallowed, bit her lip, and willed it back down.

  Sneddon couldn’t reach the Marion alive. Ripley knew that, yet she was uncertain how far she would go to prevent it. Ash was up there, ready and waiting to receive the science officer into his control. It didn’t matter that she was a human being. She was impregnated now, and she carried what Ash had been seeking for thirty-seven years.

  Does he already know? She had to assume that was a yes.

  Would he go to any lengths to protect and preserve Sneddon, and what she carried? Again, yes. She knew that, had witnessed Ash’s determination before.

  Sneddon couldn’t be taken to the Marion. And Ripley could not kill another person. The problem circled, deep and heavy, and she closed her eyes, hoping that a solution would come.

  Each level they passed was marked by a soft chime from the elevator’s control panel, and the voice of someone from far away and long ago reciting, “Seven... Six... Five.” The cage decelerated then, and Ripley experienced the strange sensation of being stretched, head and shoulders growing suddenly light. It made it easier to breathe, but did nothing to level her queasiness.

  She did her best not to puke. Her stomach wound throbbed deep and cold, and she thought if she heaved the act might pop the staples holding her together. Her shoulder and arm were stiff, and she was sure she could feel the penetrating metal of the clasps there every time she moved. She thought of asking Kasyanov for another shot of anaesthetic or painkiller. But she was already woozy enough. If a flash of pain now and then was what she had to endure to stay awake, so be it. She needed all her wits about her. They all did.

  The elevator slowed to a halt, and a different chime sounded from the control panel. Outside of the cage, all was blackness.

  “Level 4,” Lachance said. “Lingerie, footwear, monsters, and beasties.”

  “This level was mined out two years ago,” Hoop said. “Lots of deep tunnels, a complex network. One of the longest in the mine snakes away from here for over three miles.”

  “Sounds lovely,” Ripley said. “So the fuel cells are here?”

  “Yeah, we use this level for storage now. Lachance?”

  “Spare fuel cells shouldn’t be that far away. We’ll need to find a powered trolley to carry one.”

  “You okay?” Kasyanov asked, and it took Ripley a few seconds to realize the doctor was talking to her.

  She nodded. Realized they were all looking at her.

  “You were... mumbling to yourself,” Hoop said.

  “I’m good,” Ripley insisted, smiling. But she hadn’t realized she was saying a word.

  Waiting for Hoop to throw the doors open, she tried to analyze her wounds again, assess just how badly hurt she was. But the shots Kasyanov had given her made that quite hard to do. She was slightly removed from herself, a distance that made the pain bearable but which also furred the edges of her perception.

  She’d have time for reality later.

  I’m awake. I’m me. Stay sharp, Ripley!

  Damaged as they were, Hoop had to force the cage doors open manually, and they shone their lights outside. They all waited in silence, playing the lights around the open area they revealed. Hoop edged forward and stepped outside, crouching low, turning his flashlight and spray gun left and right.

  “Looks clear,” he whispered. “Wait here.” He crossed to a mess of dials and controls fixed onto a wall, flicked some switches, and with a buzz and a click the lights came on. As elsewhere in the mine, there were strings of bare lights slung tight to the ceiling, and more hung from hooks sunk into the walls. But basic though they were, everyone welcomed the illumination.

  “Flashlights off,” Hoop said. “Conserve whatever charge you have left. We might need them again.”

  Ripley and the other three survivors left the elevator and fanned out. The area was similar to that on Level 9, a wide space with metal props at regular intervals. There was more mining equipment discarded all around— tools, clothing, some water canisters, and several wheeled trolleys. Lachance checked out the trolleys and found one whose power pack was still half-charged. He stood on the small control deck, accessed the control panel, and rolled forward a few steps.

  “How far in are the stores?” Ripley asked.

  “Not far,” Hoop said, pointing at one of the tunnels leading off. “Just through there, hundred yards or so. Why?”

  “And how many fuel cells are stored down here?”

  “Three,” Lachance said. “Two spares for the Marion, and one for the mine’s power plant on the surface. The plant is designed so it runs off ship-grade power cells. We store them all down here, so we don’t lose the ship if they... malfunction.”

  “Okay,” Ripley said. She looked around at them all, bloodied and desperate, holding their mining tools that had been turned into weapons. They weren’t soldiers. They weren’t even miners. But they’d survived so far, and if and when they got home, they would have a hell of a story to tell.

  “We’ve got to bury the mine,” she said.

  “What?” Lachance asked. “Why? We discovered something amazing down there! That ship was incredible enough, but those buildings we found... it can’t have been just one. It was the start of a city, Ripley. Maybe a thousand, even ten thousand years old. It’s...” He shrugged, at a loss for words.

  “The most amazing discovery since humankind first came into space,” Ripley said.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “That. Precisely.”

  “But it’s contaminated,” she said. “Corrupted. Tainted by those things. Whatever deep history we witnessed down there was dictated by them, not by those dog-things who built the ship and the city. They might have been the amazing ones. That ship was remarkable, I can’t deny that. And we saw that they had wonderful architecture, and art, and knowledge and imagination that might put ours to shame. But am I the only one who thinks that ship might have been shot down? Maybe even by their own people?”

  The others were watching her, listening silently.

  “Everything went wrong. A disease came and destroyed all that they were, and we can’t let that disease escape.” She looked pointedly at Sneddon, who was staring down at her feet. “We can’t.”

  “She’s right,” Sneddon said without looking up. “Yeah. She’s right.”

  “I can set one of the fuel cells to overheat,” Hoop said.

  “And blow us all to hell,” Lachance said. “No thanks, already been there, and now I’m keen to leave. One of those cells goes, it’ll be like setting a nuke off in here.”

  “That’s exactly what it’ll be,” Hoop said. “And Ripley’s right. We can’t just escape from here and go on our way. We have to make sure no one else finds this place.”

  “And they will!” Ripley said. “Have no doubt of that. Hoop?”

  “Ash,” Hoop said.

  “Your mad android?” Lachance asked.

  “He’ll do his best to complete—”

  “Thanks for bringing an insane AI to our ship, by the way,” Lachance said.

  “Ash docked the ship!” Ripley said. “I was still in hypersleep. I’ve been used in this more than all of you together. But he’ll be logging whatever he can of this, recording details, constructing a full report for Weyland-Yutani. And damaged though your antenna array may be, he’ll find a way to send it, or take it back to the Company.”

  “Unless I wipe him from the systems,” Hoop said. “I already told you I can do that.”

  “And I firmly believe that you’ll try,” Ripley said. “But there was something
different about Ash. Weyland-Yutani made him... devious. Capable of lying, of harming humans, of trying to kill me. So we can’t take any chances at all.” She held up her hands. “We blow the mine.”

  “It’s simple enough,” Hoop said. “Start the fuel cell, initiate charging, disconnect damping and coolant systems. It can be done.”

  “But there’s no accurate way to judge how long it will take to blow,” Lachance said.

  “It doesn’t have to be accurate,” Ripley said. “As long as it gives us time to take off.”

  Hoop and Lachance looked at each other, and in their silence Ripley heard their agreement. They saw why it needed to be done, and they could do it.

  “Suits me,” Kasyanov said. “Quite happy to burn those fuckers, or bury them for all eternity.”

  “Don’t forget there’s still that one on the Marion,” Sneddon said. She was still looking at her feet, and Ripley saw something in her that she’d never noticed before. A strange kind of calmness.

  “We’ll tackle that when the time comes,” Hoop said.

  “And only if we have to,” Lachance said. “With luck, it’ll just burn with the ship.”

  “Right,” Hoop said.

  They all stood in silence for a few moments. Then Hoop clapped his hands together, causing them all to jump.

  “Let’s get to it, then!”

  “Thank you,” Ripley muttered, so quietly that he probably didn’t hear. But he smiled nonetheless.

  You’re all going to die, she thought, a silent message to those things raving down below. Maybe they were finding their way up through Level 7 now, coming for the people who had killed their queen, and all of their future queens, as well. But she was starting to feel better. Starting to feel good.

  She hoped it wasn’t the drugs.

  19

  CELLS

  PROGRESS REPORT:

  To: Weyland-Yutani Corporation, Science Division

  (Ref: code 937)

  Date (unspecified)

  Transmission (pending)