[Aliens 01] - Earth Hive
Page 3
Wilks noticed that the colonel, his name tag said “Stephens,” kept his hands behind his back. Like maybe he was afraid to touch him.
Not so the civilian. He extended one hand. “Corporal Wilks.”
Wilks kept his own hand down. Shake with one of these guys and you might need finger grafts.
The civilian nodded, withdrawing his offer of a handshake.
“You saw the recording,” Stephens said.
“I saw it.”
“What did you think?”
“I thought the guardsmen were lucky they got blown to atoms when they did.”
The colonel and the civilian exchanged quick glances. “This is, ah, Mr.… Orona,” Stephens said.
Yeah, right, and I’m King George the Second, Wilks thought.
“You ran into these things before, didn’t you?” the one they called Orona said.
“Yeah.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What can I tell you that you don’t already know? You’ve seen the recordings of my “examination,” haven’t you?”
“I want to hear it from you.”
“Maybe I don’t want to tell it to you.”
Stephens glared at him. “Give the man the story, marine. That’s an order.”
Wilks almost laughed. Or what? You’ll toss me in the brig? That’s exactly where I’d rather be than here. But if they wanted him to talk, they could pry it out of him, the military had dope that could make a crowbar sing opera. He shrugged.
“All right. I was part of a unit sent to check on a colony on Rim. We’d lost contact with them. We found one survivor, a little girl named Billie. Everybody else had been slaughtered by some kind of alien. Same thing that got the guardsmen.
“One of them got onto the lander when it dusted off. Killed the pilot, crashed it. There were twelve of us in the squad, stuck on the ground. I was the only one who got out, me and the little girl. They shipped her off to live with relatives on Ferro, after they wiped her memory. She was a good kid, considering all the shit she saw. We spent some time awake on the ship before we climbed into the deep freezers. I liked her. She was tough.
“Later I heard there was another nest of the things somewhere, killed another colony. Supposedly a marine and a couple civilians got away from that one, too.
“When I got back, the medics patched me up, then took my brain apart. Only thing was, all of a sudden nobody wanted to know from aliens eating colonists and laying eggs in them. It got buried. Top secret, total wipe like the kid if I opened my mouth. That was more than a dozen years ago.
“That’s it. End of story.”
“You got a bad attitude, Wilks,” Stephens said.
Orona smiled. “Colonel, do you suppose I might have a word with the corporal alone?”
After a moment Stephens nodded. “All right. I’ll talk to you later,”
He left the room.
Orona smiled. “Now we can talk freely.”
Wilks laughed. “What? Do I have ‘stupid’ tattooed on my forehead? If there isn’t a battery of recording gear going full blast right now I’ll eat that fucking table. Probably the colonel is in the next room watching in full holographic surround. Give me a break, Orona, or whatever your name really is.”
“All right,” Orona said. “We’ll play it your way. Stop me if I get any of it wrong.
“After you managed to escape from Rim, you spend six months in quarantine, to make sure you weren’t infected with some kind of alien virus or bacteria. Nobody even tried to see you, no personal visits, nada. You wouldn’t let them reconstruct your face.”
“Women love scars,” Wilks said. “Makes “em sympathetic.”
Orona continued. “When you were put back on active duty, you turned into a chemhound. Nine arrests and subsequent terms in the brig for Stoned and Disorderly. Three for assault, two for damage to property, one for attempted homicide.”
“Guy had a big mouth,” Wilks offered.
“I specialize in genetics, Corporal, but anybody who’s ever taken a psych course can see you’re on a one-way trip down the reaction tubes.”
“So? It’s my life. What do you care?”
“Before those two Coast Guard clowns blew themselves up, they downloaded the derelict’s data banks. We have a trajectory of that old ship. We know where it came from before it came home to die.”
“Ask me if I care.”
“Oh, you should, Corporal. You’re going there. Whatever your problems are don’t matter. I need a specimen of the thing the Coast Guard found. You’re going to bring me one.”
“I won’t volunteer for it.”
“Oh, but you will.” Orona grinned.
Wilks blinked. Something unhappy roiled around in Wilks’s belly, like a trapped beast wanting to get out. While he was still wondering if he were about to vomit whatever was left from his most recent meal, Orona hit him with another one.
“You know that little girl you rescued? She’s here. On Earth. In a mental center. They keep her sedated and run a lot of tests on her. She has these nightmares, you see. Apparently the brainwipe didn’t completely take. She remembers things, in her dreams.
“You could wind up in a place like that, if you don’t do the right thing.”
Billie was here? He hadn’t thought he’d ever see her again. He had been curious about her more than once. She was the only person who’d seen those things the way he had, least the only one he knew about. He stared at Orona. Then he nodded. If they wanted you, they would get you, he’d been in the Corps long enough to know that. He would go or damn sure wish he had. There were worse things than dying.
He took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll go.” Orona smiled, and when he did, it reminded Wilks of the aliens. Damn.
4
Billie slept. She could hear voices in her dream, a distant overlay of ghostly sound wound among the shimmering and frightful images.
“—dreaming again. What’d you give her?”
A door loomed in front of Billie, partially open. Behind the door, blackness. Eyes gleamed in the dark there, and light flashed briefly on rows of serrated teeth.
“—thirty of Trinomine—”
The undulating door swung wide, creaking loudly. A kind of… presence oozed through. Billie couldn’t see it clearly….
“—thirty? That’s twice the usual dosage. Aren’t you worried about brain damage?”
The presence coalesced, forming a quavery image. Black, tall, toothed. The monster. It grinned at Billie. Gnashed those teeth. Moved toward her.
Billie was frozen. Couldn’t even turn away as it came for her. She opened her mouth to scream—
“—well, that’s a risk, isn’t it? She’s already halfway insane and none of the conventional therapies work. Besides, medical-grade androids have taken up to forty milligrams without significant damage—”
The monster reached for her. Opened its mouth. Slowly a toothed rod extruded itself from that hellish mouth. Came toward her, slow, oh, so slow, but she… couldn’t… move.…
“—she’s not an android, though—”
“—might as well be—”
A hand touched Billie’s shoulder.
Billie awoke, her heart thudding rapidly. She was sweating hard.
It was Sasha.
“Oh, Sash. What are you doing here?”
“You have a visitor, Doc sent me to tell you.”
“A visitor? I don’t know anybody on Earth except the medics and the inmates here.”
Sasha shrugged. “Doc says somebody is in V4 for you. You want me to go along?”
“No. I can handle it.”
The truth was, she didn’t feel particularly adept at the moment; the drugs coursed through her system and the latest nightmare still vibrated in her memory. But if she was ever going to get out of this place, she had to look as if she were in control.
Billie found her way down the hall, was admitted into the visitor area. The door to V4 scanned her and admitted her int
o the “private” room. Inside was a monitor inset into the right wall and a single form-chair facing a fully polarized wall that shined like a black mirror.
Billie sat.
Who could it be?
The monitor came to life. Onscreen was a computerized image of a kindly, white-haired grandmother. Her chip-voice when she spoke was also kindly, but full of quiet authority. Billie also knew the voice was full of subsonics and sublims designed to calm and soothe a listener, as well as engender obedience.
“You are being monitored,” Grandma said. “And any discussion of hospital therapy will result in termination of this visitation.” Grandma smiled, forming lines at the corners of her eyes. “Visitation is a privilege and not a right. You are allowed ten minutes. Is this understood?”
“Yeah, right.”
“Very good. Enjoy your visit.”
Grandma smiled again and faded from the screen. A small red dot pulsed in her place, reminding Billie that the conversation was being recorded and observed.
The polarized wall faded from black to clear.
A man, one side of his face scarred, sat in the chair two meters away from her. He wore a military uniform.
Who… ?
“Hello, Billie.”
It was as if somebody suddenly slammed a fist into the side of her head. The jolt rocked her physically. Billie jerked and stared as a memory they’d tried to take away from her swam to the surface like a whale needing air.
It was him! The man who’d always saved her in her dreams.
“Wilks!”
“Yeah. How they treating you in here?”
“You—you’re real!”
“Last time I looked, yeah.”
“Oh, God, Wilks!”
“I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”
“You—you look… different.”
He touched the scars on his face. “Colonial Marine surgeons. Buncha butchers.”
“Wh-what are you doing here?”
“They told me you were in this place. I figured I had to see you, once I found out you were having the dreams, too.”
“About the monsters.”
“Yeah. I don’t sleep that well myself. Haven’t since Rim.”
“It was real, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah. It was real. They had me, I’m in as long as they keep reactivating my secrecy clause, but you were a civilian. They decided to wipe you, but it didn’t work, least not all the way.”
Billie slumped, but at the same time felt a sense of relief like none she’d ever known. It was real! She wasn’t crazy! The dreams were memories, trying to get out!
* * * * *
Wilks stared at the kid. Well, she wasn’t really a kid anymore, was she? Turned out to be a nice-looking woman, even in the hospital whites and obviously stoned on whatever they gave her.
He wasn’t sure why he’d come, except that maybe she was the only other person who would understand the dreams he kept having. He’d tried to track her down a long time ago, along with the other marine and the civilians who’d escaped from the second bug nest, but they’d all been carefully hidden away. Probably in some medical center like this one, or on some outpost a dozen light-years from anywhere. Or maybe they were dead.
“Why did you come?” she asked.
He pulled his thoughts back to the young woman on the other side of the thick, clear plastic wall. “They found what they think is the homeworld for those… things,” he said. “They’re sending me there with some troops.”
A few seconds went past. “To destroy it?”
Wilks smiled, but it was a sour expression. “To collect a “specimen.” I think MI wants to use the things as some kind of weapon.”
“No! You can’t let them!”
“Kid, I can’t stop them. I’m a corporal.” And a drunk and chemhead brawler, he added mentally.
“Get me out of here,” she said.
“Huh?”
“I’m not crazy. The memories are real. You can tell them. They’re trying to convince me everything I remember is an illusion but you know the truth. Tell them. You saved me before, Wilks, do it again!
They’re killing me in here with the drugs, the therapy! I have to get out!”
The monitor screen next to her flowered, and a white-haired old lady appeared there, smiling. “Discussion of therapy is not allowed,” she said. “This visit is terminated. Please leave the visiting area immediately.”
“Wilks, please!”
Wilks found himself standing, his fists clenched.
“Please leave the visiting area immediately,” the old lady said.
Billie stood and leapt at the clear wall. She slammed her fists into the hard plastic. “Let me go!”
The door behind her opened and two large men entered. They grabbed Billie. The young woman struggled, but it was no use. The wall began to polarize and darken.
“Hey, fuckheads, let her go!” Wilks yelled. He lunged at the wall, slammed into it. He backed off, threw his shoulder into the wall again. The wall was unmoved.
The monitor on his side of the darkening plastic came to life. The same old woman. “This visit has been terminated. Please exit now. Thank you for coming. Have a nice day.”
“Wilks! Help me!” Billie screamed.
Then the sound faded and the wall went totally dark, and she was gone.
Wilks leaned away from the wall. He stared at his hands. “Sorry, kid,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
5
Excerpts from the script of the top-secret audiovisual presentation “Theory of Alien Propagation,” by Waidslaw Qrona, Ph.D.
Note: This script/compgen AV recording is/are classified military document(s) and require a clearance of A-l/a for reading/viewing. Penalties for illegal uses of this/these document(s) may include Full Brain Reconstruction and/or a fine of up to Cr. 100,000, and/or imprisonment in a Federated Penal Colony for up to twenty-five years.
FADE IN:
COMPUTER GEN PIX: Deep space, a b.g. of stars. Centered is AN ALIEN, sideview, curled into a fetallike ball. MUSIC PLAYS: Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.”
V.O.
Humans suffer from self-centered notions as to the nature of life.
The Alien slowly uncurls. MUSICAL STING.
V.O. (CONT.)
Humans assume that alien life forms should conform to standards that match our own, including logic and morality.
The Alien is uncurled in its full glory now. Slowly it rotates to face the camera. MUSIC CONTINUES OVER.
V.O. (CONT.)
Even among humans, morality is ignored when expedient. Why should we expect more from an alien life form than we demand from ourselves?
The Alien stretches out its arms and legs and tail so that it becomes a parody of the man’s-reach-should-equal-his-height illustration by Da Vinci. PUSH IN SLOWLY. The Alien expands to fill the screen.
V.O. (CONT.)
If we know nothing else, we must know this about aliens: First, they will not be like us. Second, truly understanding them will be almost impossible.
THE ALIEN
fills the screen; DIAL DOWN MUSIC and PUSH THROUGH TO BLACK.
CUT TO:
EXT ALIEN WORLD—DAY—ESTABLISHING
Here is a bleak, rocky planet. Very little greenery, vast stretches of nothing.
V.O.
Judging from the dense exoskeleton of the alien and its demonstrated adaptability, we must assume that its home planet is a harsh, desolate place.
CUT TO:
EXT. HIVE
This is a ridged, antlike mound rearing up from the cleared area around it, a thing composed of alien spittle, laced with local plants and the exoskeletons of alien prey.
V.O.
We know from our previous encounters that the aliens have a queen-based hierarchy and that they form hives to protect their eggs and young hatch-lings.
INT. HIVE—EGG CHAMBER
The giant QUEEN, monstrous egg sac attached to her rear, deposits eg
gs on the floor of the chamber.
V.O.
At the proper time, drone workers provide host bodies for the newborns.
TIME CUT TO:
INT. EGG ROOM
A GROUP OF PREY BEASTS held in place by WORKER ALIENS are attacked by HATCHLINGS IN THEIR LARVAL FORM. (These are hand-shaped lumps with fingers and tails, the latter of which wrap around the prey beasts’ necks to secure them as the ovipositors are extruded and inserted down the prey’s throats. See comp-image #3 for stock footage.)
V.O.
The parasitical breeding process is offensive to some in the scientific community, but completely natural for aliens living in a harsh environment.
CUT TO:
PREY BEAST
Its belly bulges from within. It screams, but silently, (MOS).
V.O.
Birth of the next stage is violent and fatal for the host.
C.U—PREY’S BELLY
The skin bursts, tissue spews, and A BABY ALIEN, looking like a fat snake with sharp teeth, emerges.
V.O. (CONT.)
The young alien chews its way forth, where there may be a battle for dominance with other newly born aliens. We can only speculate at this point.
A GROUP OF BABY ALIENS
rip and tear at each other.
CUT TO:
EXT. HIVE—DAY
Overhead a spaceship ROARS by; below on the ground, A GROUP OF WORKER ALIENS watch the ship.
V.O.
How the aliens escape their world is, of course, complete speculation.
THE SHIP
lands and a SUITED FIGURE emerges, carrying assorted collecting gear and a wicked-looking hand weapon.