Alan Dean Foster - Aliens

'Out is right.' Hudson would have spat save for the fact that no suitable target presented itself. 'He's coming in. I feel safer already.'

Vasquez made sure her suit mike was off before agreeing.

The powerful arc lights mounted on the front of the APC illuminated the stained, wind-scoured walls of the colony buildings as the armoured vehicle trundled down the main service street. They passed a couple of smaller vehicles parked in a shielded area. The APC's gleaming metal wheels threw up sheets of dirty water as it rumbled through oversize potholes Internal shocks absorbed the impact. Wind-blown rain lashed the headlights.

In the driver's compartment, Bishop and Wierzbowski worked smoothly side by side, man and synthetic functioning in perfect harmony. Each respected the other's abilities. Both knew, for example, that Wierzbowski could ignore any advice Bishop gave. Both also knew that the human would probably take it. Wierzbowski squinted through the narrow driver's port and pointed.

'Over there, I think.'

Bishop checked the flashing, brightly coloured map on the screen between them. 'That has to be it. There's no other lock in this area.' He leaned on the wheel, and the heavy machine swung toward a cavernous opening in the wall nearby.

'Yeah, there's Hicks.'

Apone's second in command emerged from the open lock as the armoured personnel carrier ground to a halt. He watched while the crew door cycled and slid aside. A suited Gorman was first down the ramp, followed closely by Burke, Bishop, and Wierzbowski. Burke looked back, searching for the tank's remaining occupant, only to see her hesitate in the portal. She wasn't looking at him. Her attention was focused on the dark entrance leading deep into the colony.

'Ripley?'

Her eyes lowered to meet his. By way of reply, she shook her head sharply from side to side.

'The area's secured.' Burke tried to sound understanding 'You heard Apone.'

Another negative gesture. Hudson's voice sounded in their headsets.

'Sir, the colony CPU is on-line.'

'Good work, Hudson,' said the lieutenant. 'Those of you in Operations, stand by. We'll be there soon.' He nodded to his companions. 'Let's go.'

In person the devastation looked much worse than it had on the APC's monitors.

'Looks like your company can write off its share of this colony,' he murmured to Burke.

'The buildings are mostly intact.' The company rep didn't sound concerned. 'The rest's insured.'

'Yeah? What about the colonists?' Ripley asked him.

'We don't know what's happened to them yet.' He sounded slightly irritated by the question.

It was chilly inside the complex. Internal control had failed along with the power, and in any case, the blown-out windows and gaping holes in the walls would have overloaded the equipment quickly, anyway. Ripley found that she was sweating despite her environment suit's best efforts to keep her comfortable. Her eyes were as active as any trooper's as she checked out every hole in the walls and floor, every shadowed corner.

This was where it had all begun. This was the place where it had come from. The alien. There was no doubt in her mind what had happened here. An alien like the one that had caused the destruction of the Nostromo and the deaths of all her shipmates had gotten loose in Hadley Colony.

Hicks noticed her nervousness as she scanned the ravaged hallway and the fire-gutted offices and storage rooms Wordlessly he motioned to Wierzbowski. The trooper nodded imperceptibly, adjusted his stride so that he fell into position on Ripley's right. Hicks slowed down until he was flanking her on the left. Together they formed a protective cordon around her. She noticed the shift and glanced at the corporal. He winked, or at least she thought he might have. It was too fast for her to be certain. Might just have been blinking at something in his eye. Even in the corridor there was enough of a breeze to blow sand and soot around.

Frost emerged from the side corridor just ahead. He beckoned to the new arrivals, speaking to Gorman but looking at Hicks.

'Sir, you should check this out.'

'What is it, Frost?' Gorman was in a hurry to rendezvous with Apone. But the soldier was insistent.

'Easier to show you, sir.'

'Right. It's up this way?' The lieutenant gestured down the corridor. Frost nodded and turned up into darkness, the others following.

He led them into a wing that was completely without power Their suit lights revealed scenes of destruction worse than anything yet encountered. Ripley found that she was trembling. The APC, safe, solid, heavily armed, and not far off, loomed large in her thoughts. If she ran hard, she'd be back there in a few minutes. And alone once again. No matter how secure the personnel carrier was, she knew she was safer here, surrounded by the soldiers. She kept telling herself that as they advanced.

Frost was gesturing. 'Right ahead here, sir.'

The corridor was blocked. Someone had erected a make-shift barricade of welded pipes and steel plate, extra door panels, ceiling sheathing, and composite flooring. Acid holes and gashes scarred the hastily raised barrier. The meta had been torn and twisted by hideously powerful forces. Just to the right of where Frost was standing the barricade had been ripped open like an old soup can. They squeezed through the narrow opening one at a time.

Lights played over the devastation beyond. 'Anybody know where we are?' Gorman asked.

Burke studied an illuminated company map. 'Medical wing We're in the right section, and it has the right look.'

They fanned out, the lights from their suits illuminating overturned tables and cabinets, broken chairs and expensive surgical equipment. Smaller medical instruments littered the floor like steel confetti. Additional tables and furniture had been piled, bolted, and welded to the inside of the barricade that once had sealed the wing off from the rest of the complex Black streaks showed where untended fire had flamed, and the walls were pockmarked with holes from pulse-rifle fire and acid.

Despite the absence of lights, the wing wasn't completely energy-dead. A few isolated instruments and control boards glowed softly with emergency power. Wierzbowski ran a gloved hand over a hole in the wall the size of a basketball.

'Last stand. They threw up that barricade and holed up in here.'

'Makes sense.' Gorman kicked an empty plastic bottle aside It went clattering across the floor. 'Medical would have the longest-lasting emergency power supply plus its own stock of supplies. This is where I'd come also. No bodies?'

Frost was sweeping the far end of the wing with his light. 'I didn't see any when I came in here, sir, and I don't see any now. Looks like it was a fight.'

'Don't see any of your bad guys, either, Ripley.' Wierzbowski looked up and around. 'Hey, Ripley?' His finger tensed on the pulse-rifle's trigger. 'Where's Ripley?'

'Over here.'

The sound of her voice led them into a second room. Burke examined their new surroundings briefly before pronouncing identification. 'Medical lab. Looks pretty clean. I don't think the fight got this far. I think they lost it in the outer room.'

Wierzbowski's eyes roved the emergency-lit chamber unti they found what had attracted Ripley's attention. He muttered something under his breath and walked toward her. So did the others.

At the far side of the lab seven transparent cylinders glowed with violet light. Combined with the fluid, they contained the light served to preserve the organic material within. All seven cylinders were in use.

'It's a still. Somebody makes booze here,' Gorman said Nobody laughed.

'Stasis tubes. Standard equipment for a colony med lab this size.' Burke approached the glass cylinders.

Seven tubes for seven specimens. Each cylinder held something that looked like a severed hand equipped with too many fingers. The bodies to which the long fingers were attached were flattened and encased in a material like beige leather, thin and translucent. Pseudo-gills drifted lazily in the stasis suspension fluid. There were no visible organs of sight or hearing. A long tail hung from the back of each abomination trailing freely in the liquid. A couple of the creatures held their tails coiled tightly against their undersides.