Foster patted him on the shoulder. “You can kill him later. Look, what’s important is what he found. According to the recorder, the Nostromo diverged from its course to head for LV-426, and went into orbit. Its tug disengaged from the hauler, landed for the better part of a day, took off, and then they headed back to Earth. About thirty hours after that, they dumped the flight recorder. After that, nothing.” She paused. “If they’re back on LV-426, sending a signal, it’s because they turned around—which makes no sense.” She went silent and waited for a reply.
“If it was the Nostromo,” he said, frowning, “those thirty hours wouldn’t exist.” An empty feeling appeared in his gut.
Foster nodded. “I’m sorry, Marlow.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay.” He thought about the Seegson job, and how long it was taking them to get paid. “It’s fine. Honestly, this is better. Yeah, sure, the Nostromo itself’d be a great haul, but at least we’ve got the flight recorder.” He shot her a reluctant smile. “As it is, the company’d probably make us jump through eight billion hoops, and then find a loophole to keep from paying us. We’d be years trying to squeeze blood from a rock, trying to pry money out of them.
“No, this has to be something different, something we can’t identify… yet,” he continued. “It’s not the Nostromo, but the Nostromo went there, and they had to have a good reason. Ship like that, why else would they change course?” His grin turned into a smile. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna find it first.”
2
SALVAGE VESSEL ANESIDORA, IN ORBIT AROUND LV-426
NOVEMBER 2137
Following a three-day transit they went into orbit around LV-426. Then, after two orbits, Meeks tracked the source of the beacon and landed the Anesidora nearby.
“Based on the air sample,” Meeks said, “the atmosphere’s nitrogen, water vapor, CO2, methane, ammonia, and oxygen.”
“Oxygen and nitrogen?” Crispin Heyst generally took the “night” watch while the others slept. “Means it’s breathable, right? Man, I live for this kind of thing.”
“Wrong,” Meeks said, “but hey, Heyst, you wanna go out without a helmet and suck methane and ammonia, be my guest.”
Marlow tapped the intercom, looking at it as if it might bite him. “Lewis, get your ass up here.” Then he turned. “Everyone else, let’s suit up and see what’s down there.” Standing—almost—he moved to exit the flight deck.
Foster, Meeks, and Heyst followed him down to the airlock. There they clambered into their EVA suits. Marlow held his breath—figuratively speaking—while they ran through the checklist. Of all the things on board the Anesidora that had to be in tip-top shape, the EVA suits were second only to the hull, especially since the cargo hold had to remain a vacuum.
“Tank check,” he said.
“Tanks all show green,” Meeks replied.
“Integrity check.”
Meeks peered at the readout on the screen next to the airlock controls. “Integrity shows green.”
Marlow then tapped the intercom switch on his suit’s glove. “Comm check. You getting me, Lewis?” He waited, expecting the all-too-familiar burst of static. Instead he heard Lewis’s voice, loud and almost clear.
“A little fuzzy, Marlow, but you’re coming through.”
“Let’s take it slow,” Foster said to Heyst and Meeks. “I want us to be in one piece when we get to that beacon.”
“If you’re lookin’ for a piece, Foster, I got somethin’ for ya right here.” Heyst’s grin was visible even behind the dirt-smudged helmet of his EVA suit.
Marlow just sighed. The guy never stopped. God knows they’d tried, reminding him—firmly—that Foster was the captain’s wife.
It just got worse after that.
Foster smiled. “I’d need scanning equipment to find it, Heyst.”
Meeks burst out with a laugh, and Heyst looked as if he was about to respond.
“Okay, enough already!” Marlow said. “Focus on what we’re here for. I don’t want any mistakes.” He slapped a gloved hand onto a large red button, and the hatch started to fall open.
Normally the mechanism made a horrible squeaking noise that was enough to wake the dead, but this time it only lasted for about half a second before the howling wind from the planet drowned it out. Dust came swirling into the airlock, making it hard to see. Already dirty EVA suits quickly became filthy.
Heyst and Foster took point, followed by Meeks.
Marlow followed them.
“Let’s get a fix on that beacon.” Holding up his scanner, Marlow found that he could barely see the glowing display past the sandstorm through which they were walking. Squinting, he saw with satisfaction that it was picking up a signal. “There you are. Foster, Meeks, keep your eyes open.”
“Roger,” Meeks said.
“Not that it’ll do any good in this,” Foster muttered.
The planet’s surface was rocky and uneven, and Marlow could only see a few yards ahead of them. A sudden movement off to one side caused him to jump, then he realized it was a spout of steam coming from somewhere underground. Turning his head, he saw another spraying upward into the gassy soup that passed for an atmosphere.
What the fuck was the Nostromo doing down here? he thought. The vessel had been a modified CM-88 Bison. They weren’t a salvage ship, and besides, their hauler was full. Where do they get off answering a distress beacon?
“I hate these kinda jobs, man.” Meeks was grumbling out loud. “Listen to that fucking wind.”
“Subzero temperatures, low visibility.” Foster spoke as if she hadn’t even heard him, providing readings off her own scanner, speaking them aloud for the benefit of the Anesidora’s own flight recorder.
Marlow decided to play optimist, mainly to distract himself from thinking about the fact that he couldn’t see a damn thing, and was depending on a scanner he could barely make out.
“Lewis, have you managed to decode the signal yet?” he asked.
“Negative—I can’t tell what it is.”
Of course not. Nevertheless, Marlow decided to keep the mood going. “That’s good. If it’s a mystery, then it’s unknown. If it’s unknown, then it could be valuable.”
“This could be our biggest score, Marlow,” Foster said, picking up on what he was doing.
“Yes, dear,” Marlow said. “That’s what I said to you—three days ago.”
“Well, obviously I thought you were right.”
This time he just grunted. Inwardly, he grinned.
“I hope we’re getting hazard pay for this,” Heyst muttered.
“Don’t worry,” Marlow said. He’d almost added, “You’ll be lucky if you get paid at all,” but managed to restrain himself. It was hard enough getting Heyst to work when the payday was a sure thing. “If it’s a distress signal, no one could last long down here. Which means we get salvage rights to anything we find.”
“You think this could be the big one?” Heyst said. “No more shitty salvage work?” His eyes were always bigger than his brain. Then again, the average microbe was bigger than Heyst’s brain.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Marlow tried to keep his tone neutral. “Besides, I thought you lived for this stuff.”
“What, you never think about the future?”
“I just worry about what’s right in front of me,” Marlow replied. Truth was, he usually didn’t look too far ahead. Yeah, he was the boss, but he had expenses coming out the ass, without enough income to cover them. It didn’t do to think about it much.
The wind died down for the moment, and visibility improved. Taking advantage of the lull, Foster moved ahead of them all, and climbed up over a rise.
“Well, what’s in front of you right now, Marlow,” she said, “is pretty fucking impressive.”
He stepped up onto a rock and stood next to his wife. Heyst and Meeks followed.
“Holy fucking shit,” Heyst said.
3
LV-4
26
NOVEMBER 2137
From where they stood Marlow had a clear view of the terrain. Most of the rock formations were dark and jagged and patternless—but jutting up into the sky was a huge cylindrical structure bent into a horseshoe shape. In the dim twilight of the planet, with the swirling dust making it even harder to see details, it almost looked like part of the landscape.
Closer examination proved otherwise—this object wasn’t the result of geology and the chaos of erosion.
It had been formed by an intelligence.
This was a ship.
A huge ship, embedded in the planet’s surface. Far too big to fit in their cargo hold. But ships usually had things inside them. Marlow held up his scanner just to prove to himself that the beacon came from there.
It did.
He lowered the instrument.
“Let’s move.”
* * *
It took them the better part of half an hour to cross the distance. All the while Foster kept scanning it, but all she could read were the external dimensions. She rattled them off for the benefit of the Anesidora flight recorder, but Marlow wasn’t paying attention.
It was what was inside the thing that mattered.
An alien ship, he thought, excitement building alongside awe. An honest-to-fucking-god alien ship—and I found it!
The hell with buying a new ship, he’d be able to retire and buy a house somewhere. He could have a garden and grow nothing but grapes in it. Or a vineyard. Not only would he eat grapes, he’d celebrate his brilliant salvage with tasty wine. Though come to think of it, Marlow didn’t like wine all that much.
He could always sell it…
Gotta stop getting ahead of myself.
They reached the towering structure, and it loomed over them like a gigantic, slumbering creature, trapped in the ground. Switching on their helmet lights, they began a clockwise circuit, searching for a way inside.
After a short time they found an opening. It had been some kind of hatch or airlock, though whatever door had been there was gone, leaving only a black, gaping hole. Tons of rocks were piled in front of it.
“Somebody must’ve knocked the door off,” Foster said.
“We won’t be able to fly it until we patch that up,” Heyst added.
“Fly it?” Meeks laughed. “You outta your fuckin’ mind, Heyst? This thing’s deader’n your sex life. No power source, no way we’re gonna be able to get this thing off the ground, much less achieve escape velocity.”
“What the hell you think we’re gonna find in here?” Foster asked breathlessly.
“Something big.” Marlow looked at her, and smiled. “C’mon, let’s go in.”
Clambering carefully over the debris, they hesitated at the verge of the blackness. It seemed to swallow their lights. After a moment, however, Marlow stepped across the threshold, and was followed by the rest. The opening led to a long, winding, bell-shaped corridor. The walls had a ribbed appearance, rows of regular vertical ridges giving an almost skeletal impression.
“Careful,” Foster said as she entered, “there are tubes all over the place.” Even as she said that, Meeks almost stumbled on one of them.
“Fuck! Who built this thing?”
“Someone who never intended anyone to just walk into it unannounced,” Foster said. “The layout’s weird, too, all tubes and weird shapes.” She peered all around them. “This is probably some kind of maintenance hatch.”
“Then why make it so difficult?” Meeks sounded dubious. “What, they don’t do maintenance?”
“Maybe they have drones that do it.”
Continuing cautiously down the winding corridor, they were careful to walk between the cylindrical tubes that were embedded in the floor. None of them wanted to risk a twisted ankle, or worse. After a while Marlow started to wonder if the whole damned ship was made up of an endless series of maintenance tunnels.
“There’s an opening up ahead,” Foster said.
“About time,” Marlow muttered. His wife and Heyst were in the lead, blocking his view of a bell-shaped entryway.
“Oh my God,” Foster said up ahead.
“Holy shit!” Heyst said at the same time.
Meeks made a gurgling noise.
They were still standing in his way. Marlow growled and pushed past them to see what had them so worked up.
He stopped in his tracks, speechless.
Marlow had spent most of his adult life on enclosed vessels, where space was always at a premium. Even back on Earth, large areas were reserved for things like arenas and warehouses. People didn’t warrant such a luxury. As a result, he was used to confines that were generally cramped and made use of limited real estate. To him, that was normal. Thus, as he stood in the doorway, a shiver traveled down his spine.
The dimly lit chamber they were entering was so huge, Marlow had trouble gauging its scale. The dark gray ribs and repeating shapes gave it an organic impression, enhanced by the gleam of light that didn’t seem to have a source.
Back when he’d first purchased the Anesidora, he’d marveled at how massive the cargo hold was. He didn’t care that the rest of the ship was cramped, as long as he had tons of room for salvage.
At a conservative estimate, he could fit four Anesidoras into this space. If nothing else, he could stack them, as the chamber looked as if it encompassed the entire towering height of the vessel. Its walls stretched away into the shadows as well, beyond the capabilities of their EVA searchlights. Even so, as he entered he could make out a large object in the center of the chamber.
It was a human-like form, sitting at the center of an object that looked like a huge gun turret. It was difficult to tell where the seat ended and the occupant began. All around it were pillars and indentations and something that looked for all the world like a moat.
“Careful with what you touch,” Marlow said as they walked in. “I don’t want anything damaged.” His voice sounded small in the cavernous space as the shadows swallowed it.
They all moved toward the turret, or maybe it was a telescope. Or a cockpit—Marlow had no idea, and he didn’t much care. There would be time to figure that out later. As they got closer, he realized that the human form was huge—at least sixteen feet tall—and it had been there a long time. It looked like a fossil.
Foster must have been on the same wavelength. “It’s amazing,” she said, sounding uncharacteristically breathless. “How old must this be?”
“What is it?” Heyst stared up at the turret. “A cockpit?”
“That’d make this a ship,” Meeks said, his voice soft.
Marlow cringed. No shit. It wasn’t as if this could be anything but a ship. Then again, he hadn’t hired Meeks and Heyst for their brains. He hired them because they were rated for operating a ship of the Anesidora’s class… and because they worked cheap.
“Hah!” Heyst raised his arms in triumph. “I think we found our big payday!”
“Hey, quiet,” Meeks said in a loud whisper.
Heyst’s sudden loud snort hurt Marlow’s ears over the suit’s speakers.
“What, you think we’re gonna wake him?” He turned to look up at the huge alien. “Hey, sorry pal.”
“Can it!” Marlow shouted. He’d had enough of their bullshit. “We’re wasting time. Have a look around, see what else you can find.” The others fell silent, and he gestured to send them in different directions.
Foster moved to the turret and examined the alien creature seated there. Parts of it looked human, others more like… an elephant? Its chest was exposed, and from his vantage point Marlow could see its ribcage—the center of which seemed to have exploded outward.
“It’s some sort of suit, Marlow, but it looks organic,” she said slowly. “It’s hard to tell where the suit ends and the wearer begins, but it’s not a synthetic. It’s definitely a life form.”
“It was a life form. Now it’s our property.” He grinned. “Salvage rights.”
He blew her a kiss, and she blew
one back.
Off to one side, Heyst made a retching noise.
They all fell silent after that. He and Foster made a circuit of the cockpit or turret or console or whatever the hell it was. Marlow saw footprints in the dust.
“Dammit,” he muttered, hoping it was just Meeks getting there ahead of him. Then Foster called out.
“Marlow, we found something—tracks!”
So much for that idea. He walked over to where she and Heyst were standing, where there were not only footprints, but disturbed dirt that indicated that something had been dragged. What the hell…?
“That’s not the least of it.” Foster stepped aside to reveal a winch. Its cable disappeared into a hole that led down into the chamber beneath them. It was the machine itself that held his attention, though. Unlike everything else they’d found in the chamber, this was very obviously made by humans.
It had a word stenciled on its side.
NOSTROMO
Bingo.
“Maybe they abandoned ship and landed here,” Foster said.
Heyst threw up his hands. “Well, if they’re still alive, there goes our salvage rights.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Marlow said. “Let’s find out.” A thought struck him, and he peered around the chamber. “I’ll find that beacon and shut it off. Don’t want anybody else finding this place.” He pointed. “Meeks, Heyst, check out the cavern below.”
As they moved to comply, Foster moved back to the pilot—that was what he had to be—and continued her examination. Marlow consulted his scanner, picked up the signal again, and worked his way across the huge chamber. It led him to a side room. Walking through another bell-shaped entrance, he found himself standing on something that looked vaguely like a catwalk. It led to a giant console, also bell-shaped.
On either side of the walkway there were protrusions with lights atop them, giving the impression of guardrails. Beneath the catwalk an open space seemed to stretch forever in all directions. The result made him dizzy, so Marlow was happy to have something to grip.
With each step that brought him closer to the console, he felt a dull ringing in his ears. The ringing increased, even though low-level sounds shouldn’t have been able to penetrate the EVA suit. Nausea started to build in his stomach as he approached, until the ringing started to sound—and feel—like the tinnitus he’d suffered ever since being too close to a cargo-hold explosion when he was a teenager.
Alien Page 2
