The Complete Aliens Omnibus

by Michael Jan Friedman

  “You don’t know that.”

  “They’re not answering, Rory.”

  “You don’t know my mother.”

  “This, again. You said yourself they probably didn’t even defend themselves. They just let themselves get killed!”

  “But they might’ve found a way to survive. They were all survivors by specialty. They spent all their time in jungles and deserts and arctic shelves and in wildernesses where nobody in his right mind goes on purpose. You were too confident about being able to pull these people out quickly. You came unprepared.”

  “That’s not a fair assessment at all.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You’re not the expert here, Rory. You need to declare these people legally dead and let us get on with our mission to secure this planet for the good of Humanity.”

  “I don’t care about Humanity. I care about this.” I pulled out the wedding ring I’d hidden in my pocket. I held it up for him, and everyone, to see.

  “Jewelry?” MacCormac scoffed.

  “A wedding ring. I took it off the woman who hanged herself to keep from what was about to happen to her. If you don’t know what that is, you’re an idiot. I wish to hell I could ignore all this, but this ring is burning a hole in my pocket. I care about one person at a time. I don’t ignore clues.”

  “Clue?” Pocket challenged. “What clue?”

  “Like where’s the dead woman’s husband?”

  Bonnie dared say, “Back on Earth, I hope.”

  “Where we’d like to be,” Gaylord said.

  “Except for one thing,” I said. “She was pregnant.”

  Bonnie blinked. “Oh, that’s right . . . oh, dear . . . ”

  “He’s here, but he’s dead somewhere,” Pocket insisted. His ponytail bounced in emphasis.

  I looked at him. “Maybe. But I want more reason to believe that. I want to find the second encampment. That’s the condition. If we find a second installation and it looks like this one, then I’ll sign off on all human life. But not without one more try. You get paid for accomplishing something, not for dumping and running. Without my okay, all you get is your standard ferry pay. No big payoffs. You go home poor.”

  I raised my voice enough for the whole crew to hear, all the people who had planned on this all-or-nothing get-rich-quick scheme. All of outer space was a get-rich-quick scheme, much to the disappointment of the adventurers and dreamers. Space had turned out to be an exclusive and expensive Old West dust bowl, and, lo, there wasn’t gold in every stream. This was only my second time in space. Most people stayed on Earth. Some worlds were being terraformed, but it would take decades, if not centuries before those worlds would support flowering populations of any but the hardiest. The jury was still out on how successful the attempts would be. I knew that was why Clark was so charged up about being the one who landed the big fish—the golden planet we could move into without retooling.

  And these people around me were the sad hopefuls of space. The do-gooders like Bonnie, the work-a-day guys with one bright chance like Clark, the compulsive gamblers with big debts like Pocket, the guys who couldn’t use their skills anywhere else, like Gaylord. When it was your only shot, a long shot was a good shot. They were the crab fishermen of the space age, those who could go out for a few months, and make a fortune if things went well. If things didn’t go well, then at least their families would collect if they died. The contract was also life insurance. But they only got the big bonus if the mission succeeded in its primary goals. Success, or at least its cruelest definition, this time depended on me. Damn it.

  I let the silence work for a few seconds as they contemplated our situation in all its prismatics. If only it could be somebody other than me doing the talking. If only somebody else would take over my thoughts so I could just go hide.

  And there was the other angle. None of them really wanted to abandon other people in this contaminated pit. I saw that behind their terror. I saw it as they blinked down at the hideous mess that used to be their weird little computer genius. How long had they worked with Axell? Who took care of him when he was sick, and who played cribbage with him during the long, boring, hours in space? Who among them had shared jokes with him and found a way to make the awkward fellow laugh and be at ease? Who had he helped when they needed a favor?

  And there he was, smeared to hell. To some of them he might be saying, “Get out of here while you can.” To others— like me—he said, “Don’t let this happen to anybody else.”

  I turned to Clark as if we were alone. “You want me to sign off so you can release those automated killers to exterminate everything that’s not native to this planet? There’s no goddamn way, Clark. I can’t keep you from leaving, but you’re not releasing those robots. If you do, friend or no friend, I’ll file charges against you when we get back. I’m not just here for a family reunion, you know. I’ve been hired. I’m the company cop. PlanCom doesn’t want human lives on their consciences. It’s a good company made up of a lot of hardworking people with families. They deserve not to have blood on their hands. I respect that. I like it, for a change in my life. It’s why I took a job I didn’t want or need. Personally, I wouldn’t risk the clippings off my fingernails for my mother or my sister. I’m here for other reasons. I’m legally responsible. I’m gonna tell ’em you released the robots and if those researchers weren’t dead, they sure are now. It’s murder. That’s the charge.”

  Pocket rewarded me with a disappointed glower. He ended his part of the discussion by pulling a tarp out of a locker and spreading it over Axell. Gaylord was slow to move, but took the edges of the tarp and helped. Private Carmichael took Edney’s arm and he and Bonnie disappeared into the ship, headed for the infirmary. Mark followed them. After a moment, Pocket and Gaylord also stiffly moved away. They, unlike my big mouth, couldn’t find any words for this moment.

  MacCormac remained a few moments longer, looking from me to Clark, me, then Clark again. I knew he was thinking about his own missing men out there. His face limned with bitterness, he snatched Berooz’s big weapon from where it hung on my shoulder, and he too thumped into the depths of the ship.

  Clark alone remained to scour me with resentment.

  He stepped past me, on his way to the next few minutes and whatever they would bring.

  “Guess you don’t care if it’s our murder.”

  * * *

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going out after my men. Find my live ones and retrieve my dead one.”

  MacCormac hadn’t taken long to decide his next course of action. In fact, I think he knew what he was going to do before he even left the ramp.

  Nobody wanted to lay eyes on me right now, so I was avoiding everyone. Hard to do on a ship, especially when I knew some-thing had to happen, and fast if there was to be any hope for the two missing Marines.

  I found the colonel in the mess area, where the guests’ lockers and weapons racks were kept. He was loading up. Grenades, shock sticks, flamethrowers, bloodhound sensor helmet, the works. I’d been aboard with this guy for weeks before the cryo sleep, and a period after, and far as I could tell he had no personality at all. He spoke in a series of short descriptions or orders. Otherwise his dialogue consisted of single syllables whenever possible. He never socialized with the crew. But neither did I, so . . . hmm.

  He packed armor onto his body with angry slaps and tugs, taking out his frustrations on preparation. I didn’t close in on him, in fact stayed as far away as the narrow cabin would allow. He didn’t look as if he could take much proximity right now. He also didn’t radiate any desire for condolences, even though I was pretty sure he could’ve used them.

  “Don’t you think we should send out some remote drones first?” I asked. “Scout the area?”

  “We don’t have the right kind aboard. We didn’t expect to have to search.”

  “Hindsight is so you can see what an ass you’ve been,” I said. “If we lose you, we’re screwed to the wall. Edney
’s wounded and Carmichael’s a kid.”

  “He’s a Marine. Don’t underestimate him.”

  “I saw him stop from a full run and turn into the face of those things. He stood his ground and still managed to wait for the order to fire. I won’t be underestimating him.”

  “He’s supposed to stand his ground.”

  “What we’re supposed to do and what we do when we feel the fire on our faces are two different things.”

  He snapped on a very serious looking cartridge belt with some kind of armaments I hadn’t seen before. “You did it too.”

  “Only after I saw him do it. And you. Even Edney, wounded—”

  “Go away, detective. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Yeah, I know. Who’s going out with you?”

  “You volunteering?”

  “I’d rather not.” Good question—what was I probing for, exactly?

  “Yeah?” He slammed the locker shut and thumped around to face me, peering at me from inside the perfectly fitted helmet. “Well, you’d better. You’re the one who wants to do the snooping around. If you don’t go out there, you’ll never know for sure. Seems to me, after that performance at the ramp, you better have the guts to find out.”

  A clunking sound behind me almost scared the skin off my neck.

  It was Carmichael, in full combat gear. “Ready, sir.”

  He had a little boy voice and little boy eyes peeking out from that helmet. Made me sick.

  “You’re taking this boy out there?”

  MacCormac’s eyes turned to angry slits. “He’s a Marine.”

  My eyes shifted between him and Carmichael. I would’ve said more, except what choice did he have? Berooz was dead, Edney was in the infirmary, and Donahue and Brand were missing.

  Missing . . . how could they just be missing? The ship’s defensive shock weapon worked—we knew that. No living creature with DNA other than human DNA could get inside the perimeter. All the Marines would’ve had to do was run back up the ramp. Theo was standing right there to open it and close it after them. Constant presence in the ship was mandatory.

  I thought back to Theo’s call to the landing party. He had said something was going on, the Marines were missing, but he said nothing about the ship’s defense lighting off or any other outward sign of trouble. He’d have mentioned that, wouldn’t he?

  “I know I’m going out,” I told him. “I’ll do my own dirty work. I need some protective gear. Can I have . . . ”

  My gesture toward his red body-armor suit was less than decisive.

  He just stared at me as if I’d asked to wear his personal jock strap.

  “Got any spare issue?” I requested.

  Inwardly smoldering—well, actually outwardly too— he bit his lower lip to bottle his fury and kicked a locker. When he was done abusing it, he opened it and pulled out a red padded combat suit. “Put this on. Take Berooz’s HPB. You already know how to use it . . . what the hell.”

  I fumbled some, but finally found the way to get into the suit. I had to take off everything but my underwear first—it was body-tight and formfitted, almost like an exoskeleton, lightweight, but strong. Strong enough against acid?

  “They should’ve sent synthetics or robotics into this situation . . . urban environment, canyons . . . grottos . . . like a hollowed-out hive . . . Whose bright idea was it to send human researchers? Nah—never mind. I just answered my own question.”

  “How are we going to avoid another stampede by those scorpion things?”

  “I don’t know.” He buckled and belted, snapped and booted himself into additional protective and assault gear. “Maybe by going out right now, after they’ve been stung, I guess, I don’t know.”

  “How far will we go?”

  “Wherever it takes to get to that second disaster you want to confirm. You set up the rules, not me. Hope you like ’em in action, pal.”

  “Don’t know what I’ll like,” I said. “Not here to like anything.”

  One of the Marines stomped into the locker area, and only when he cast a mighty large shadow did I realize it couldn’t be Edney or Carmichael. It was Clark, dressed up in one of those protective suits.

  He said nothing to me, but that didn’t stop me from whirling around and catching him by the elbow.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. “Why are you wearing that?”

  “What do you think?” His voice was raspy and worn.

  “You’re not going out there again—”

  “What do you think, Rory? I have to go. I have to earn my ‘big bonus,’ remember? Pal?”

  “I didn’t mean anything like that.”

  “Doesn’t matter what you meant, does it?”

  “Why don’t you let the Marines and me handle this? We’ll go out after the other Marines and I’ll—”

  “Why you? You’re just along for the ride.”

  “Come on. I’m the legal officer. I’m also a cop. It’s my job to take risks for somebody else.”

  “This isn’t Milwaukee or Chicago,” he said. “You’re not a cop here.”

  “Believe me, don’t I wish.”

  “Well, then take a nap or something.”

  Aware of MacCormac over there putting things on himself and checking his suit, I didn’t want to embarrass Clark or diminish his authority. Still . . . I didn’t have time to train him in urban warfare, either.

  “It’s a bad idea for you to go, Clark,” I said, flat-out.

  “You’re a real catalogue of bad ideas today, aren’t you?”

  “The ship needs you,” I pointed out. “We can’t lose the captain.”

  “We can’t lose anybody else,” he insisted. “I’m not stupid. I made sure everything can happen without me. Theo, Gaylord, Barry, and Mark are all capable of launching and getting the ship back to Earth. If a ship can’t function without its captain, the captain isn’t very good.”

  Knowing I was bound to lose this round, I pressed anyway. “Why don’t you just let me do what I know how to do? If you go out there with us, I’m going to be concentrating on protecting you, whether either of us likes it or not. I don’t want to concentrate on you. I only have these two eyes.”

  “So don’t go out.”

  He knew what I was talking about. The details didn’t need saying and the point didn’t need repeating. I’d bullied him, I’d guilted him, I’d shamed him, and now he was paying me back.

  “Fine,” I said. I turned back to the locker, yanked off my jacket, and tried to figure out the red body armor.

  Clark kept going out into the bay.

  MacCormac snapped a buckle very loudly. He was shaking his head in annoyance and disgust.

  No time like the present. I dropped my trousers and pulled on the tougher, tighter pants of the Marine suit. “Colonel, how are you at taking advice?”

  “Like what?” he grunted.

  “The retrieval. Give it up.”

  His narrowed eyes scraped me. “What?”

  “Leave Berooz where he is. He belongs to this planet now. If you lose more people trying to retrieve a body, you’ll never forgive yourself, any more than they’ll ever forgive me now.”

  His glare was utterly cheerless. The blue eyes were pure ice. Other than a slight twitching of his compressed lips, his thoughts were completely masked.

  When he spoke, I think he surprised us both. Me, anyway.

  “Yeah . . . all right.”

  It was a big step, agreeing to leave the fallen behind. Some of us—field officers, soldiers, cops—we just didn’t like giving the bad guys the satisfaction. And we wanted something to bury. For the mothers, y’know. For the kids, so they could see that we care.

  I admired him for giving it up. Sentimentality is hard to abandon when it’s all you have. Here he was, in a situation he was supposed to be controlling, and he’d already had one of his troops killed, two missing, and one wounded. He’d kicked the locker, but he wanted to kick himself. Or me.

  We dressed in silence. T
hen he checked my weapon, checked his, and I followed him into the bay. The land of glass was waiting.

  * * *

  We circled the ship. Its big boxy body was completely out of place in this world of rose glass. It was dull, black, marked with logos and graffiti, painted with murals and silly pictures by crewmen who had victoriously returned to Earth. It was their reward. Their mark. And in space, it wasn’t like anyone was actually seeing the ship.

  Kinda sad, really. As I circled the big dazzle-painted body, I sort of wanted other people to see it and witness the graffiti of her many crews over the years. Big old ship . . . dependable and purposeful. She’d kept us alive in the universe’s most hostile environment—space—only to have our lives suddenly at immediate risk down here. I thought back to the moment of landing and what a relief it had seemed to be to touch solid ground again.

  I followed MacCormac, with Clark behind me and young Carmichael once again bringing up the rear guard. We moved in a curve around the ship, and spiraled outward, moving between the glass pillars, trying to keep our eyes on each other, which quickly became very difficult in the bands of prismatic light and shadows. I tried to keep track of them by the sounds of their footsteps on the skulch. Soon that, too, was almost impossible.

  Only a ten minute search proved that the two missing Marines, Donahue and Brand, were not in the inner areas of the ship’s protection grid. We had no choice but to spiral outward toward the limits. Back at the ship, Theo once again stood waiting at the switch, ready to drop the ramp that had been tightly closed behind us. We’d heard of instances when these alien creatures had sneaked aboard ships. That wasn’t going to happen to us.

  Soon I was as good as alone in the glass forest. The red pillars with their gauzy hats laughed at daylight. I might as well have been in a basement with one lost light bulb trying to show my way.

  I turned one of the many non-corners and felt even more isolated. With the Marine weapon pulled tight to my body, I tried to calm myself by running through the process for shifting it from projectile shot to flamethrowing to energy burst. That didn’t last long. What invaded my mind instead was the vision of those spider-scorpion things rushing on their extended fingers toward us in a wide, flat stampede.