Disclaimer: All known characters belong to their respective owner(s); unknown characters belong to me. I am not making any profit from this project. This story is purely to entertain.
Setting: Many years had passed since the first recorded human encounter with the Xenomorph species and like many previously dreaded animals, with knowledge, fear was replaced by respect (albeit with a still healthy amount of fear). Curiosity seemed insatiable for the exploitment of the Aliens for human benefit. Yet if history taught us anything is that to benefit a few, many thing are to be sacrificed first.
NATURE VS. NURTURE
CHAPTER I – Rocky Road, Not Just an Ice-cream Flavor.
It all dates to those nights she would spend sitting in front of the computer watching the rogue Aliens on the screen while trying to catch noodles from her fork, the plate neatly resting on her folded knees; dropping the fork on the plate every now and then to scribble notes on a nearby notebook. Straining to see in the comforting glow of the machine, striving to fathom Alien ways – in both sense of the word: Alien as in the species and their alien ways to humans. She knew instinctively she had chanced upon something important but for the life of her she could not put her finger on it.
It had been many years since the humans had called these creatures "bugs". The word was still widely used, but only as a derogatory term for these Xenomorphs. She would never consider insulting her study subjects in such a manner.
Dora Lismore, an isolated woman of 39, was learning the language of Aliens.
In the wild lands of Nostlinger the soil is soft and cool when it was not layered under countless inches of snow with a few far away mountains to break the monotony of the landscape and the only greens considered here were large, bony trees that never sprouted leaves. These lands have been aptly known as NeverGreen country.
Dora's vigils were marked by the solitude of her chambers shielded from her teammates and separated from the frozen wasteland. She felt as if she could be right there amongst them yet their cryptic language could translate to little more than grunts and hisses.
She remembered an elder drone with a severe scar running down its face stopping at the edge of its snarling mouth; Grandpa, as it was known among the operatives. Clearly a superior of some sort due to its larger-than-average body size, it was disciplining an unruly drone that had been roughing up its comrades. She vividly recalled how Grandpa had squared off with the younger one, its spine rigid and head pointing arrow-like at the adolescent. When the younger one did not back down the elder lunged at it and drove it nearly 300 yards away from their makeshift Nest under the snow, into the cold outside. No longer full of itself the younger one began to turn its head towards the ground, mouth opened and clamping, until it was allowed to return to the group again; but only when Grandpa saw fit to do so.
A knock on the wall interrupted her train of thoughts and she spun around on the chair, a noodle hanging from the corner of her mouth, to see Andrew Coleman standing on the doorway. The light from the hall created a long shadow from where he stood.
Andrew was a young man of 37 (as young as 37 can be). He was tall with the classic physique of a bodybuilder: wide shoulders, thighs for arms, the kind of guy you would expect to crush your spine in half but then surprise you with dexterity and grace. Black, unruly hair was hopelessly tied in a small ponytail and proudly displayed his stubble. A black turtleneck – in which he would roll up the sleeves – and blue jean pants were his choice of clothing. Always.
She didn't mind seeing him in the same clothes everyday as long as he washed them regularly.
"Yeah?" she poised halfheartedly.
He flashed a smile. "Would the bat mind coming out of her cave to the outside world in order to join the rest of her comrades for dinner?" He always smiled when he was sarcastic. "C'mon Dora, Winnie actually made something edible this time."
Dora slurped a noodle up and returned to her computer.
"I'm busy," she said simply.
She heard him sigh. "You're always busy. A little socialization won't kill you – and don't say anything to that. Where'd you get the noodles? Aren't you the one that gets the stomachaches from eating those?"
She held up the empty styrofoam cup of InstaNoodles and made dinging noises of a microwave.
"Nice. Fine, do whatever the hell you want but Winnie's gonna chew you out for that." With that he left.
Dora gave all her attention back to the grainy images on the screen and "her" Aliens.
No one is sure how these creatures came to happen on this planet but talk from the higher-ups leaks out more often than a holed barrel and the rumors say something about an aborted mission in which the crew got infected with the parasites and Headquarters cut them off, desperate they tried an emergency landing but they got gunned down…
"Yada, yada, yada…" she muttered.
At first, Headquarters were more than eager to collect the specimens but drones and face-huggers were not of much value – they wanted a Queen – and the sampling assignment would come to a hiatus until they found a use for them. They did not dare bring the specimens into a large human settlement but would not get rid of them for the slim chance of a Queen emerging amongst the creatures. They had several military outposts much closer to Aliens but as time went by and funding decreased they replaced them with two "mini-colonies", one on either perimeter, consisting of a miniscule crew of 5 to 7 members to track and monitor the Aliens, to make sure of their well-being and that they remain within their allowed territory.
Kind of like a freaky zoo.
For 10 years the Aliens had not migrated more than 20 yards from their original site.
Dora sighed and leaned back on the chair, blowing strands of her cropped hair away from her face. Four years of observing Aliens and all they had unearthed was the bare surface.
A delicious aroma soon filled the room from the ventilators. Andrew was right, she thought, whatever Winnie was cooking ought to be as good as it smells. The smell was extremely tempting and she found herself smiling at the thought of what could be cooking yet Winnie (her real name being Abigail Kettle, but she insisted on being called Winnie) had been known to prepare something that smelled delicious only to mask the true taste of it. Fresh food hadn't been part of their menu for weeks, they were reduced to the leftovers of leftovers; some were discarded of when they could no longer identify what it once was. Yet this smell just screamed to differ, the smell of an actual meal. She fought of the temptation to leave her room. She was content with her noodles, she tried to convince herself; but before she knew it she was out the door.
Located on the lower part of the large colony, on the eastern side, was the mess hall. The dining room the crew had joked. It was sizeable and empty except for the only large table in the middle of it. The table was made of some cheap plastic, the kind that could have been used in a picnic setting, yet it was large and could easily accommodate 10 people.
Hanging on the corner before the kitchen started was a small plasma television, not of the latest model but it sufficed in providing a certain level of entertainment and news of the outside world. The actual kitchen was located on the other side of the wall; half of that wall had been knocked down and remodeled for better access in and out if the kitchen.
From the other side of the kitchen came a tall and robust woman wearing a dirty apron over her tank top and jeans with her graying hair in a bun to keep it away from her face, carrying a large plate of food to the set table. She quickly set it down with a loud thud. Steam rose from all the hot containers of cooking, from the ones on the table to inside the kitchen from the meals still preparing themselves.
No sooner had she set the last pot down that two men came in whooping and complimenting on the smell.
"Holy shit, actual food!" said Johann Tilton, the crew's technician, a lean young man with untamed brown hair and happy eyes. He tried to steal a piece of buttered bread but the cook's slap made him drop it.
"Don't you dare," she warned. "Ya'll wait until everyone's here."
"What's the occasion?" asked Andrew as he walked in, giving Winnie a peck on the cheek with a failed attempt to sneak out food. Winnie's eyes were as sharp as a hawk's.
"Well, the grub bug arrived yesterday so I figured I'd put fresh food to good use."
"You mean the supply ship brought good food since yesterday? Then why'd you feed us that crap of last night?" yelled Johann from his seat in the corner. "You could have killed me! That shit was harder to harder to swallow than a rock. I think it even growled at me on the way to my mouth."
"You're still standing ain't ya? Besides, what kind of medic would I be if I let her boys die so easily?"
Andrew leaned to her ear. "Just remember: we'll never tell," he whispered.
"Hey!" Johann complained.
"Oh man! Shrimp!" exclaimed Joe Kirkham as he ran to his seat like an expectant child. He took in a good whiff of the food then with fake teary eyes he looked up at Winnie and said, "I love you."
"Cute," she said in mocking disgust. She thought that Joe, being he's 41 with thinning hair and all, would act his age sometimes. "Where's the boss-lady? I told you to get her."
Andrew shrugged his shoulders in defeat.
Winnie walked over to the door and stuck her head into the hall. "Dora! C'mon, you better get something! I don't know how much longer I can hold these wolverines at bay and – I see you from the corner of my eye Johann, now put that down!"
"Damn," he muttered, putting the roll back in the basket.
"There you are!" Winnie said, putting her arm over Dora as she walked in.
Dora stopped for a second, tying up the ropes on her sweatpants, before making her way to her teammates.
"Well, well, look who finally decided to join us. Thought 'Her Highness' would be to good for us, eating noodles and all," said Andrew, taking his seat.
Winnie scoffed. "Noodles? I thought I hid those sodium-laden things. Spoil you appetite, will ya?"
Dora gently tapped him in the forehead. "Consider yourself blessed now," she said and sat down next to Johann.
"About time," he said. That earned him a rough elbow shove on his side.
Winnie sat down in front of her, taking of her apron. The 52-year-old woman had calm, steely eyes that held wisdom behind them. Even among these grown adults she functioned as a mother.
"Noodles, eh? I'm surprised you're still hungry," she said.
Dora looked at Andrew then back at Winnie. "Whatever, I'm sorry. I got hungry and grabbed the first thing I saw. I wasn't planning on eating with you guys, I mean, let's face it, your cooking was going downhill fast. I was beginning to think it was an assassination attempt."
She grabbed a roll and nibbled at it before taking a larger bite.
Winnie made no attempt to stop her.
"Yet here you are," the elder woman said.
Dora shrugged her shoulders and took another bite. "What can I say? If the world were a pot of stew, you'd rule it," she said with a smile.
Winnie smiled also. "I'm taking those damn noodles and burning them."
"Hey, I eat those too," complained Andrew. Joe agreed in the sparing of the noodles.
"Can we eat now?" whined Johann.
Winnie waited a few more seconds; just to tease them a little bit before exhaling, "Dig in."
The room soon filled with all kinds of content noises; the clashing of silverware drowned under their lively conversations. It was hard to believe that only a few days age the crew would have rather take their chances of survival on a Xenomorph suicide mission rather than face one of Winnie's plates. Plates were passed back and forth more often than a ball in a tennis match. Helpings of food generously filled their plates; meals to choose from ranged fish to pasta and vegetables and everything in between.
"Man, I know using all this food this early is bad," Winnie said, taking another serving of sausages. "Can't help myself though, when new food arrives I feel like I gotta use it as soon as possible because next thing I know I'm throwing it all away. We're gonna have to start rationing two weeks earlier than the other guys."
"I ain't complaining and I don't care," said Joe still digging his fork into the fish on his plate. "Bet those other guys don't get to eat half as good as this. Winnie, you're a goddess with the golden ladle."
Johann let out a happy exhale rubbing his full stomach. "Man, those Aliens can come anytime now 'cause I'll happily accept this as my last meal."
"Don't even kid about that," said Joe, a bit of worry in his tone. "You jut might jinx it for all of us."
Andrew scoffed. "Joe, you still worry about that? The Aliens haven't migrated from their territory for two years. Okay, so 40 yards is not much but they aren't coming. And if they did the alarms around their zone would go off before we even see them; by the time they did rear their long ugly heads over the horizon we have a full license to kill."
Joe sighed. "Man, what I wouldn't do to go in there and blast them all to hell and back but no-ho-ho we have to observe them from afar."
"Its our job. The policy strictly says that minimal interaction with humans is a must. I'd agree on blowing those bastards up should they get out of hand but so far they've done nothing. Which is weird considering how much bad rep they have," Dora said.
"That was because of fault on the human's side," intervened Johann. "They didn't know how to act around them. Did the early humans saw the wolf and thought oh what a great hunting partner that would make! No. They wet their primitive pants and ran. Only when they exploited their pups did they find use for them. Same with the Aliens, humans have gone a long way since the first encounter. At first we thought of them as nothing but dangerous bugs but now look how it is, we have set aside an entire territory for them just for observation. Medics are being trained in treating Alien-relating injuries." He tapped Joe, "Remember when that drone jumped out of that ravine and chomped on our asses?"
"You cried like a baby for a scratch."
"Never mind that. The important thing was that Winnie acted professional through the entire ordeal and before you know it I was good as new."
"Johann, it was a scratch. I just applied a band aid over it," said Winnie.
"Like a professional."
Winnie chuckled lightly and laid her fork on her plate saying, "With all the whining you big babies do, I should get a raise."
"But it's a volunteer assignment. We don't get paid at all," said Dora.
Winnie sighed. "I know; don't remind me. If it weren't for the fact that it was either this or retirement I wouldn't be here but retirement is synonymous with deathbed for me. Can you imagine? Me, medical practitioner for over 40 years – serving in two world battles – retired? No way honey, there's still a lot of life left in this woman."
Andrew raised his glass, "Amen!" he said with a light laugh.
"Besides, even if we don't get paid it's not that bad." Dora leaned back and picked on her nails. "We have a nice, fortified home – "
"Complete with climate control, thank God," declared Andrew.
" – Complete with climate control, food, healthcare –" Dora nodded at Winnie – "and we all just lazy about half the time. Really, nothing to complain about but if you really want to be a narrow-minded asshole" – she shot a nasty look at Joe – " then go ahead, walk the 50 mile track of subzero temperatures to the Nest and blow them all to hell and back. I doubt that you'll make it halfway in this weather and if you do then I doubt that the Aliens will give you a warm welcome."
Joe raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I was just saying. Don't chew me out like that –"
"Yeah man, that was harsh!" said Johann as amiably as possible, trying to keep the situation under control.
"I'm not chewing anybody out!"
"Yes you are!" Joe shot up from his seat, slamming his hands on the table and giving a few utensils a jump. "This isn't the first time that's happened Dora! Okay, fine, I respect the fact that you admire these creatures, ok? It's not your fault; it's your job. You study Xenomorphs and that's ok. It's not the most popular career but you like what you do. But when you end up witnessing Aliens playing cat's cradle with your comrades' intestines then, yeah, you would have to excuse me for being a little bias."
There was an uncomfortable silence hanging over them for what seemed like an eternity. Dora stared at Joe with an irritated look, like she was about to shout the biggest strand of obscenities but she just kept her mouth shut and looked away, sighing deeply, shaking her head.
"You know what? Go ahead, take Johann and Andrew with you to the Nest and destroy it. I mean you're the leader of this little colony, right? You make the rules, you have the final say; I'm just your bug-observing lackey. Locked all day in my room, what would I know about correctly dealing with them? Rule them with an iron fist Joe." She brushed her hair with her fingers. "Who knows? You just might find a Queen there. They encourage that kind of behavior with great financial gain."
"We're not talking about Queens Dora."
"I am. I want a Queen. We all do; that's why we volunteered for this. I just don't want to blast my way through a carefully structured Nest only to come back empty handed." She scoffed. "But there're no Queens in that Nest, only the same bugs from 10 years ago. Just a decade older, that's all. Heh, you'd figure that after 10 years a damn Queen would have appeared by then. Bastards…if drones are devoid of a Queen then one of them will turn into one, my ass. That's what those Aliens are, a bunch of disappointing bastards."
She got up and bade everyone a glum goodnight then left the room leaving the rest of her companions with an awkward feeling.
"Disappointing bastards…" she could be heard muttering down the hall.
Andrew looked around a bit, testing the waters, then got up and stretched with a fake yawn. "Well, might as well hit the hay too seeing as Johann and I have full schedules tomorrow, don't we Johann?"
Johann snapped back to reality. "Wait – what? Oh, oh yeah. Full schedule…doing stuff, lots of stuff."
"Just go you guys," Winnie said with a smile.
She was irritated but hid it well from the rest. They knew that Joe and Dora clashed in their views on how to handle the creatures and never wanted to get caught in their crossfire.
Only Joe and Winnie were left in the room. Joe sat back down and rested his head on his hand, paying attention to nothing, just looking into space with the look of a lost man; knowing where he was but not sure where to go next.
Winnie was left humming to her self lightly before getting up and picking plates to be washed. It was the second trip back before Joe said anything.
"I'll help."
Winnie would have waved him off but since her hands were full she just shrugged. "If you feel like you need something to do…Johann is usually the one that stays behind but go ahead, I never turn down help. Once your mind goes into auto-pilot – believe me, you don't need much brains to do this – it'll help clear it."
"You should be the one that needs to go to bed. Make Johann do the work, he's young and hardy." He picked up the larger plates and made way to the kitchen where he set them down on the large sink halfway up already with dishes. He looked at the clock; it was 11: 15 pm.
"Nah, I ain't that old. I don't mind doing this, makes me feel like I'm doing something, like I'm useful. You guys may whine a lot but half the time you can take care of yourself."
Winnie turned to Joe as he came out of the kitchen to pick up more plates and she passed him on the way to the sink.
"Turn on the T.V. I want to see what's going on in the outside world."
Joe cleaned his hands on the towel before picking up the remote. "What's there to know? Wars, death, political corruption…there, the outside world in a nutshell."
"Just humor me with the background noise."
The room suddenly came alive with the vaguely static noise of the television screen. Joe flipped the channel until it landed on one of the local news station. Even though the anchorwoman was the typical doll of other stations there was a military, even strict, tone to her as she delivered the news.
Major stories of the day consisted of local news – a popular general was going to be dismissed from duty after a funding scandal – but there was the odd feature about mysterious deaths or downed ships.
"Bugs…" Winnie said in a singsong tone. "How stupid to these people think we are? Unknown cause of death? Hah! Just look at the claw marks they are showing on that body! Or the way the frame on that ship melted away, no human acid could have caused that; hint, hint…"
Joe nodded. "Humans have a habit of sticking our noses where they don't belong. It's no longer that big of a secret but they just don't want everyone to worry about it. They wouldn't be able to get out of bed if they did."
"Still, this is a local channel. The only thing local is a large military settlement 75 miles away. Military! Their entire population is an expert on this situation; I'll even bet their children study this at school."
"I'm just happy that all the involvement I have to do is in here and not out there," he said before picking up the last set of plates.
By the next morning the snow had stopped falling, only small flurries appeared now and then from the sky but not enough to create a new layer of white carpet; much to Joe and Andrew's gratification.
Both men were outside, near the opening of the docking bay, shovels at hand, picking up large amounts of snow and removing it to the side where it wouldn't disturb should an emergency ship need landing space or they need to leave in one of their vehicles.
Under so many layers of clothing it was hard to distinguish which man was which. Thick jackets, equally thick gloves, even thicker boots; everything was at least double-layered to survive in their frozen wasteland. The pace of their breath was in sync with the pace of their shoveling. They took in stinging cold air when they dug their shovels in the snow and exhaled large clouds when the snow flew from their shovels.
Shoveling was a near daily chore and every able-bodied member of the Odyssey colony – with the exception of Winnie – took turns with this task. Named after Homer's infamous story on the great Greek adventure, the Odyssey seemed more like an oxymoron label to a sedentary base with an equally sedentary crew. Johann had thought that a more appropriate name for the base would have been Igloo since the large domed ceiling perpetually covered in snow did make it look like one from afar.
Winnie was slurping on a hot cup of coffee she had recently made. On the nearby table the pot steamed with the boiling drink. She was in one of the observatory rooms, the one with the largest windowpane for a better view of watching the endless white. It faced east for it to heat up faster with less energy in the morning sun, and even though the room itself possessed little furniture beyond a large sofa and another small television on a crudely made counter it was the favorite spot for the crew to socialize over a warm drink and something to eat.
Yet no one but the medic/cook was present this morning, everyone else was either shoveling snow, scribbling down research notes, or tinkering with simple mechanics.
She gently blew the steam away from her cup and took another sip. The coffee was black and strong; just the way she liked it but not everyone shared the same taste and even Joe – who was next in line for coffee maker extraordinaire – had once commented that her coffee was so strong it could be used as a chemical weapon.
"They're going to break their backs one of these days…" she said to herself with a hint of humor.
She was more worried for Andrew and with good reason; Andrew had family history of heart-related problems and had just recently recovered from a mild heart attack. It had given everyone a big scare but Winnie had kept her cool and did her thing, the ordeal was soon over and Andrew fully recovered in record time. He was already on medication – a serum made from harvested Xenomorph adrenaline that he had to inject himself with every other day to strengthen the muscles of his heart – but soon the dosage was mixed with a relaxant and increased.
Her heart skipped a beat whenever she saw him clutch his chest but he would always brush her off saying he was tired of her nagging.
In the end, she stopped badgering altogether.
The sound of clamoring footsteps increased until Dora ran into the room with arms outstretched on either side of the doorframe to keep from falling as he thrusted her upper body into the room yelling, "Where's Andrew and Johann?"
Winnie shrugged her shoulders. "Andrew's out shoveling…I ain't got a clue where Johann is though you might want to check the equipment room. Why?"
Dora said thanks and ran down the hall. "Alien's AWOL!" she screamed in explanation.
Winnie said nothing but returned to her coffee.
From the window she soon saw Dora running out into the freezing cold in her sweat suit calling out to Andrew. He obviously couldn't hear her from all the layers he wore on his face so she motioned him to follow her inside with rushed movements, he dropped the shovel and ran with her back into the base.
A few moments later the P.A. on the radios came on with Dora on the other side almost sounding like she was about to hack a lung.
"Johann! I want you to drop whatever the hell you're doing, suit up, and haul your scrawny ass over to the docking bay! Johann! Docking bay! Now!"
Winnie shook her head, slightly amused at the boss-lady's anxiety yet that's what earned her the nickname boss-lady: when she was wanted something, she wanted it done ten minutes ago and was going to hound the unfortunate person until it was done. Even though the directors of the program designated Joe to be head of the colony, when it came down to her matters Dora ruled all, albeit for a while. Then she could quietly crash when the adrenaline left her system and soon all was good in the world again.
In less than ten minutes two bulky snowmobiles left the base towards the endless, frozen horizon; their coordinates already decided by the current circumstances.
Moments later, by then the snowmobiles long gone, Dora walked in the room, gave a deep sigh and allowed gravity to attract her body facedown towards the sofa, making content gurgling noises muffled by the pillows.
Winnie smiled and shook her head in amusement.
Such was a small part of the life in their crazy little colony they called "home".
