Alan Dean Foster - Alien - 3

Only she continued to suffer because only she continued to survive.

It was a destiny she could abandon at any time. The infirmary was well stocked, its contents clearly labelled. A single, simple injection could wipe away all the pain and the terror. Easy enough to put an end to it. Except that she was a survivor. Perhaps that was her task in life, simply to survive.

No, fate hadn’t singled her out for special mistreatment. She wasn’t responsible for the fact that she was tougher than anyone else. It was just something she’d have to learn to live with.

Another man gone. One she hadn’t been especially fond of this time. She regretted it nonetheless. Andrews was human, and if nothing else deserved to die a decent death.

The alien had left dead silence in the wake of its astonishingly swift attack. In its aftermath the men had resumed sitting or standing, each staring into the distance, at his neighbour, or inwardly. As usual it was left to Dillon to kneel and begin the prayer.

‘We have been given a sign, brothers. How we deal with it will determine our fates.’

‘Amen,’ several of the prisoners chorused. The comments of several others were fortunately unintelligible.

Dillon continued. ‘We give thanks, O Lord, your wrath has come and the time is near that we be judged. The apocalypse is upon us. Let us be ready. Let your mercy be just.’

Near the back of the hall the prisoners had begun to whisper to one another, Dillon’s prayer notwithstanding.

‘It was big,’ prisoner David muttered. ‘I mean, big. And fast.’

‘I saw it, asshole.’ Kevin was gazing intently at the place on the ceiling from which the alien had hung. ‘I was there. Y’think I’m blind?’

‘Yeah, but I mean it was big.’ So intent were they on the memory of what had just happened that they even forgot to stare at Ripley.

Prisoner William rose and surveyed his comrades. ‘Okay, so what do we do now, mates?’ A couple of the men looked at one another but no one said anything. ‘Well, who’s in charge? I mean, we need to get organized here, right?’

Aaron swallowed, glanced around the room. ‘I guess I’m next in line.’

Morse rolled his eyes ceilingward. ‘Eighty-five’s gonna be in charge. Jesus, give me a break!’

‘Don’t call me that!’ Aaron glared at the prisoner who’d spoken. ‘Not now, not ever!’ Rising, he advanced to confront them.

‘Look, no way I can replace Andrews. I’m not even gonna pretend that I can. You guys didn’t appreciate him. I know he was a hardass sometimes, but he was the best man I ever worked with.’

Dillon was less than impressed. ‘I don’t want to hear that shit.’ His gaze shifted from the assistant to the lanky figure seated on the far side of the hall. ‘What about you? You’re an officer. How about showing us a little leadership?’

Ripley glanced briefly in his direction, took a puff on her narcostick, and looked away.

Williams broke the ensuing silence, gesturing at Dillon. ‘You take over. You run things here anyway.’

The bigger man shook his head quickly. ‘No fuckin’ way. I ain’t the command type. I just take care of my own.’

‘Well, what’s the fuckin’ beast want?’ The discouraged Williams inquired aloud. ‘Is the fucker gonna try and get us all?’

The narcostick eased from Ripley’s lips. ‘Yeah.’

‘Well, isn’t that sweet?’ Morse growled sarcastically. ‘How do we stop it?’

Disgusted, Ripley tossed the remains of her narcostick aside and rose to confront the group.

‘We don’t have any weapons, right? No smart guns, no pulse rifles, nothing?’

Aaron nodded reluctantly. ‘Right.’

She looked thoughtful. ‘I haven’t seen one exactly like this before. It’s bigger, its legs are different. The other ones were afraid of fire, or at least respectful of it. Not much else.’

She let her gaze roam the hall. ‘Can we seal off this area?’

‘No chance,’ Aaron told her. ‘The developed mine complex is ten miles square. There’s six hundred air ducts that access the surface. This goddamn place is big.’

‘What about video? We could try to locate it that way. I see monitors everywhere.’

Again the assistant superintendent shook his head. ‘Internal video system hasn’t worked in years. No reason to keep an expensive hi-tech system just to monitor a lousy twenty-five caretaker prisoners who aren’t going anywhere anyhow. Fact is, nothin’ much works here anymore. We got a lot of technology, but no way to fix it.’

‘What eight-five’s tryin’ to tell you—’ Morse started to say.

‘Don’t call me that!’ Aaron snapped.

The prisoner ignored him. ‘—is that we got no entertainment centres, no climate control, no viewscreens, no surveillance, no freezers, no fuckin’ ice cream, no guns, no rubbers, no women. All we got here is shit.’

‘Shut up,’ Dillon said warningly.

‘What the hell are we even talkin’ to her for?’ Morse continued. ‘She’s the one that brought the fucker here. Let’s run her head through the wall.’

Ripley shrugged ever so slightly. ‘Sounds good to me.’

Dillon walked over to confront Morse. ‘I won’t say it again,’

he said softly. ‘Keep your mouth shut.’

Morse considered, then dropped his gaze and backed off.

For the time being.

The assistant super eyed Ripley. ‘All right. What do we do now?’

She was aware that not just the three men at the table but the majority of the prisoners were watching her, waiting.

‘On Acheron we tried to seal ourselves off and establish a defensive perimetre. It worked, but only for a little while.

These things always find a way in. First I need to see, not hear, what our exact physical situation is.’

‘It’s fucked,’ Morse growled, but under his breath.

Aaron nodded. ‘Come with me.’ He looked to Dillon. ‘Sorry, but you know the regs.’

The big man blinked slowly by way of acknowledgment. ‘Just don’t be too long, okay?’

Aaron tried to grin, failed. ‘Look at this way: no work detail today.’

Dillon let his gaze sweep the upper level of the library. ‘Then why is it I don’t feel relaxed?’

They moved along the main passageway, Aaron holding the schematic map, Ripley shifting her attention from the printout to the corridor and walls. There was overhead light, but dim.

Morse was wrong. Some of the complex’s basic life support system still functioned.

She tapped the plastic sheet. ‘What’s this?’

‘Access serviceway. Connects the infirmary to the mess hall.’

‘Maybe we can go in, flush it out.’

He stayed close. ‘Come on. There’s miles and miles of tunnels down there.’

She traced lines on the sheet. ‘It won’t go far. It’ll nest in this area right around here, in one of the smaller passageways or air shafts.’

His expression twisted. ‘Nest? Don’t you mean “rest”?’

She glanced over at him. ‘I mean what I say. Just don’t ask me for details. If we can kill or immobilize it, remind me and I’ll explain. Otherwise you don’t want to know.’

He held her stare a moment longer, then dropped his eyes back to the map. ‘How do you know that?’

‘It’s like a lion. It sticks close to the zebras.’

‘We don’t have any zebras here.’

She halted and gave him a look.

‘Oh, right,’ he said, subdued. ‘But running around down there in the dark? You gotta be kiddin’. We got no overheads once you get out of the main shaft here.’

‘How about flashlights?’

‘Sure. We got six thousand of them. And rechargeable batteries. But no bulbs. Somebody forgot that little detail. I told ya, nothin’ works.’

‘What about torches? Do we have the capability of making fire? Most humans have enjoyed that privilege since the Stone Age.’