“Well, when you put it that way…”
“No, let’s allow Simpson to send out a team of his wildcatters. Meanwhile, we’ll get to work re-analyzing any data we’ve collected from that area. If the survey team returns without incident, perhaps one of us will go along the next time. By then, Brackett will have been instructed to cooperate, and the risk will be significantly decreased.”
Dr. Mori smiled. “I like your thinking. We could toast to it if you’d offer me a glass of that rich red.”
Reese’s eyebrows shot up. “How rude of me. Apologies, my friend. A case arrived on this morning’s dropship, and I don’t mean to hoard it.”
“Of course you do,” Dr. Mori scoffed.
“Well, yes, but not so completely that I can’t offer you a glass,” he said with a smile. “I don’t think we should start celebrating just yet—”
“Of course not.”
“—but that doesn’t mean we can’t raise a glass in hope.”
He retrieved a second glass from his small kitchen and poured several mouthfuls of wine for Mori. Reese handed it over and then raised his own glass.
“To the Nostromo,” he said.
Dr. Mori nodded and clinked his glass against Reese’s.
“To the Nostromo.”
* * *
Dr. Hidalgo stood outside Dr. Mori’s office, waiting for his return.
The news had torn her away from her dinner, and as she stood leaning against the wall, her stomach growled. She had been compared to a bird many times in her life—a stork, a flamingo—but the most accurate comparisons were to her appetite. She ate small portions, mostly nibbles here and there, but she ate all day long. Tonight she’d been in the dining hall with several of the lab assistants, eating vegetable dumplings with a chili sauce, when Dr. Mori’s assistant had come to fetch her.
She’d wheedled the news out of him on the hurried walk back to the office, and now she waited like an errant schoolgirl sent to see the principal.
When she saw Dr. Mori coming down the corridor, she steeled herself for the encounter. She admired Mori for his brilliance and his dedication, but she had never liked him as a person. In her career, Elena Hidalgo had met many scientists whose company she had enjoyed—even here at Hadley’s Hope, there were several lab assistants who were thoughtful and kind—but it had been her bad luck to end up working under Bartholomew Reese and the caustic, thoughtless Dr. Mori.
“I need to speak with you,” she said as Mori approached. “You and Dr. Reese.”
“He’ll be along shortly,” Dr. Mori said. “Is there a problem?”
“I think there is.”
Dr. Mori unlocked his office door and gestured for her to enter. He followed her inside and closed the door behind him. The lights flickered on automatically, sensing their presence.
“Care to elaborate?” Dr. Mori asked, turning toward her and leaning against his desk. Everything about his tone and posture declared that he found her tiresome. “I presume this is about this evening’s message from the company.”
“From Carter Burke,” Dr. Hidalgo said. “Whoever that is.”
“Dr. Reese and I were just sharing our excitement about this development, Elena,” he told her. “You don’t seem as thrilled as I would have expected. This may be precisely the sort of break we’ve been hoping for since our arrival on Acheron. I don’t know about you, but I’ve harbored a secret fear, almost from day one, that we had spent all of this time and effort, and built the colony in the wrong place.”
Dr. Hidalgo shook her head.
“How can there be a wrong place? The colony doesn’t exist just as a host body for us to nest upon.”
Dr. Mori arched an eyebrow, gazing at her dubiously.
“Are you comparing us to parasites?”
“Of course not,” she replied. “I love my work, I’m just… worried. That’s all.”
“There’s nothing for you to be worried about, Dr. Hidalgo.”
She thought of the children she had seen earlier, running in the hall; Newt and her little ginger-haired friend, Luisa.
“I’m not worried about myself.”
Dr. Mori thoughtfully stroked his chin. The cliché of it—the wise old scientist in silent contemplation—was so condescending that it made her want to scream. But she held her tongue.
“My dear friend,” he said, “the company’s had no secrets from you. From any member of our team. Yes, Hadley’s Hope would have been built whether or not the company had co-sponsored its construction, but there was a reason Weyland-Yutani bought into the idea in the first place. It used its influence to choose colony sites which would further its own interests. This is not espionage, Elena. It’s business. More importantly, it’s science.”
She plunged her hands into the pockets of her lab coat, encountering a package of mints on one side and a wad of tissues on the other. Tangible, insignificant things, somehow they made her concerns more real.
“If we find alien life—” she began.
“Living creatures?” Dr. Mori scoffed. “After all these years, with all of the studies we’ve done of this planet, you know how miniscule the chances are of that. There’s been no sign of any activity at all.”
“My point is that it’s possible. For the most part, other encounters with alien races have been benign, but there have been a few violent, bloody clashes. You know that. Our friends in the Colonial Marines must all have stories of friends they’ve lost. So I can’t help but feel some trepidation about making contact with a new alien life form, with a colony full of people—including children—who have no idea that the chance even exists.
“What if the aliens are hostile?” she said. “What then?”
Dr. Mori blinked in surprise, lowering his arms to stare as if her question was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. Then he frowned, his brow knitting with impatience.
“You know the answer to that question, Dr. Hidalgo,” he said curtly. “Our research is too important for it to go to waste. That’s why the science team was provided its own evacuation vessel, why we’ve all been given enough rudimentary training to launch the ship, and trigger the autopilot’s homing system.
“You didn’t think they were teaching us all of that for their own amusement, do you? Whatever else happens, our findings must reach Earth.”
“Right, the evac ship,” she responded. “A vessel even the colonial administrator is unaware of.”
Dr. Mori flinched back from her, staring through narrowed eyes.
“I’m not sure where you’re going with this,” he said cautiously, “but I’d remind you about the contracts you’ve signed—specifically about the priorities the company has set for us. You didn’t have to agree to those things. No one put a gun to your head, Elena. You chose this. It’s a worst-case scenario—which isn’t going to occur, remember.” His voice softened slightly. “This is a dead planet. There is no threat here—only history to be unearthed, and perhaps alien remains. But in a worst-case scenario, that evac ship carries us out of here—the science team, our samples, and our data. Nothing more.”
“But there are children…”
Dr. Mori glared at her for a long moment, took a breath and let it out slowly.
“Yes, there are,” he said at last. “Children whose parents knew that their days and nights would be full of peril, from the moment they set off to join the colony. As did you. If I were you, I’d stop worrying about the worst-case scenario and start focusing on the task ahead of us, the wonderful opportunity we’ve been given.”
He walked around the desk and took a seat behind it, drawing up his chair.
“A word of advice?” Dr. Mori continued. “When we meet with Reese, you’d do well not to bring this up. If he thinks you’re not dedicated to the research, he’ll cut you out of the process altogether. And then, if we do find something, all of the time you’ve spent on this godforsaken rock, with men you despise, will have been for nothing.”
Dr. Hidalgo stared at him. She knew
she ought to make some kind of argument, at least tell him that she did not despise him, but she had never been a convincing liar.
Mori opened his tablet and began to tap on a keyboard, perhaps making notes or consulting earlier files. After several long seconds, she turned and left, not bothering to close the door behind her.
In all her years, Dr. Hidalgo had never been more excited.
Or more afraid.
13
A FAMILY OUTING
DATE: 19 JUNE, 2179
TIME: 1857
Anne and Newt sprawled on the carpet playing Kubix, a puzzle game they had fallen in love with the previous year. The tiles were colorful, and played musical notes when being connected, but Anne liked it best because of the mathematical element that went into configuring them.
Newt barely noticed that she was learning anything, just enjoying the competition. In the beginning she had rarely won a game, but in recent weeks Newt had improved so much that she routinely beat her mother, which gave the little girl great pleasure.
Tim had gone off to the rec room to meet his friend Aaron, a burly boy with curly black hair and a chip on his shoulder. Anne would have preferred that Tim make other friends, but there weren’t many children her son’s age at Hadley’s Hope, so she resigned herself to hoping Tim would have a positive influence on Aaron, and not the other way around.
Newt placed a triangular tile bearing a fuchsia smiley face into the design she’d been constructing, and a pretty melody began to play, emanating from the chips themselves.
“Yay!” Newt said happily, clapping her hands. “Gotcha!”
Anne laughed. “So you did.”
The rattling of the door latch made them both look up, and Anne stiffened. A week had passed since the night they’d had their big argument, but the tension of it had echoed through every interaction they’d had since. She could still hear their angry words. So she drew a deep breath but did not stand up to greet him as the door swung inward.
“Daddy’s home!” Russ said, practically bursting inside, a grin on his face. He clapped his hands as he saw them. “Hey, look at my girls. Newt, I hope you’re kicking Momma’s butt, as usual!”
Newt gave a matter-of-fact nod, eyebrows raised.
“Of course.”
Anne realized that Newt had tensed up just as much as she had, and she felt her own relief echoing back from her daughter.
“You’re in a good mood,” Anne said with a tentative smile.
Russ slammed the door, crossed the carpet and knelt beside her. He took her hands and gazed into her eyes, and she remembered the same look in his eyes the day he had proposed to her.
“You’re going to be in a good mood too,” he said.
Anne laughed softly. “All right, how many drinks did you and Parvati have?”
“Three,” he said. “No, four. Shots included. But it isn’t alcohol fueling my mood, sweetheart. It’s the promise of money. Simpson came looking for me in the bar. First thing tomorrow morning, you and I are headed out!”
Newt uttered a happy ooh and clapped again, her father’s excitement infectious. Anne felt it, too.
“Out where?”
Russ snapped his fingers and pointed at her.
“That, my love, is the big question, and the best part. We’re not supposed to discuss it, but he’s received instructions to send a survey team to some very specific coordinates.”
“Specific coordinates,” Anne repeated, a pleasurable tremor going through her. “So this isn’t random. This time we’re actually—”
“Looking for something,” Russ interrupted, nodding rapidly. He jumped to his feet and started to pace, his thoughts already racing ahead to the next morning. “They’re not going to tell us what we’re looking for, of course, but the company must expect us to find something out there.”
“Native ruins,” Anne cried. “It’s got to be!”
“Or some kind of ancient settlement,” another voice chimed in.
Anne looked over to see Tim standing at the entrance to the hallway, smiling happily. The boy hadn’t smiled all day, and it lifted her spirits even further just to see it.
“Exactly.” Russ snapped his fingers again and pointed at Tim. “Non-human settlement.”
“It’s like a gift,” Anne said, but then a dark thought touched her. “If we find something. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Russ. It might be that we go out there, and don’t find anything at all.”
Russ nodded. “Could be, could be.” But she could see the glint in his eyes—a glint she knew so well—full of hope and plans for the future—and she knew he had already begun to spend the money in his mind.
“I want to come!” Newt said, standing up, her expression adorably determined.
“Rebecca and I both want to come,” Tim confirmed.
“Absolutely not,” Anne said, climbing to her feet.
“You always let us come,” Newt said, crossing her arms. She turned to her father. “Dad, tell her.”
“Well,” Russ said, “we don’t always, Newt. Only when it’s not going to be more than a day.”
Anne gave him a wary glance.
“Russ…”
He grinned. “Come on, Anne, they’re excited. Tell you what, if we wake up tomorrow and the coordinates Simpson gives us are too far away, or if the weather looks ugly—”
“The weather’s always ugly,” she said, every trace of happiness draining from her as she thought about the Finch brothers. “After what happened with Otto and Curtis, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Mom, we’ll be fine,” Tim said. “Come on.”
“The storm has passed,” Russ argued. “I checked on tomorrow’s weather, and there’s no indication of anything near that level of disturbance.”
“That can change in an instant,” she said.
“We’ll monitor it.”
“The calmest atmospheric day on Acheron is still dangerous. The wind and the dust—”
“We’ve been out with you plenty of times,” Newt argued.
“Don’t whine,” her mother chided her.
“I’m no-ot.”
Russ cocked his head. “Honey?”
Newt and Tim gazed at her expectantly. Anne knew she ought to say no, but their arguments weren’t without merit. The storm that had led to the deaths had been an anomaly, and the atmosphere had returned to its ordinary level of violence—which they had all faced many times. Even the kids. And if she and Russ didn’t take this job, it would go to Cale or one of the other wildcatters, and if they found anything truly valuable, she’d resent her own decision forever.
Still, she didn’t like the idea of spending the next few days in a crawler with her husband. The specter of their week-old argument, and his jealousy over Demian’s presence on Acheron, would be hanging over them. That didn’t appeal to her at all. Once his euphoria passed, the conversation was sure to go places she didn’t want it to go…
Unless the kids came along with them.
“Okay,” she said finally. “If the stormcasting program doesn’t show any major atmospheric disturbance—not just tomorrow, but for the next few days—then the kids can come.”
“Yes!” Tim gave a triumphant fist pump.
Newt came over and wrapped an arm around Anne’s waist, nodding her precocious approval.
Russ smiled at her across the room. It was a slow, sweet smile, with a look in his eyes suggesting that he might just have remembered what a great couple they were, and what a great family they’d made.
At that moment her anxiety passed, and Anne felt suffused by a wonderful contentment—a certainty that they had just passed some invisible hurdle. Suddenly she couldn’t wait for the next day to arrive.
The coming morning promised a new beginning.
* * *
DATE: 21 JUNE, 2179
TIME: 0812
Al Simpson enjoyed mornings in the command block, despite the fact that “morning” was an elusive concept on Acheron. The consta
nt swirl of volcanic ash and loose soil in the atmosphere blotted out any direct sunlight, but on a relatively calm day, morning took on a pleasant, twilight glow.
The colony buzzed with people hard at work. Outside the broad window—its storm shield raised—he could see six-wheeled crawlers moving about, emerging from underground garages and crossing the breadth of the growing colony. Simpson thought of them all as spiders, working together to construct a single web.
He’d been accused of being a curmudgeon, many times, and there was truth to that. But those who worked with him long enough realized very quickly that if they caught him in the morning, on a decent-weather day, and he had a cup of coffee in his hand, he might not bite their heads off.
He turned away from the window and took a sip. After years on Acheron, the shit that passed for coffee up here had finally started to taste good to him. He watched the technicians at their consoles, rushing around, tapping data into computers, and it felt good, especially when he reminded himself that unlike the people of Hadley’s Hope, this was just a job to him. The colonists had signed on more or less for life, but Simpson was like the marines in one respect—any time he wanted, he could ask for a transfer.
His gaze drifted purposefully toward Mina Osterman, the most recent hire. She’d arrived two months earlier as a replacement for the plant architect, Borstein, who’d gone to work on a new colony Weyland-Yutani was developing in another sector. Mina had ginger hair and dark eyes, and she held herself always in a sort of relaxed pose that made people feel comfortable around her.
The previous Monday, Simpson had gotten a bit too comfortable with Mina and her reassuring smile and those dark eyes, and suggested certain nocturnal activities that had nothing to do with architecture. Now she seemed to feel his eyes upon her and looked up curiously. A frown furrowed her brow, and she rolled her eyes before returning to the paperwork in front of her.
Simpson took another sip of coffee, but it tasted bitter to him now. He knew he had overstepped with Mina, and it made him feel like an idiot. He turned to head back to his console and saw his assistant operations manager, Brad Lydecker, rushing toward him.
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