Alien V: LV426

by Sonic Sculpture

Nearly a century after the destruction of the atmosphere processor, a team of researchers is sent to LV-426 to salvage what they can from the derelict spaceship. But what they find is almost beyond imagining.

2. Chapters 4 through 7

Chapter 4

Margin of Error

Tan immediately turned and exited the bay. Eleanor fell in behind him. Knowing how troubled she would be over such an unexpected development, Colin desperately wanted to go with her. But his place was with the newly delineated engineering effort. There was however something he needed to say first.

"We need to determine whether we can possibly replicate those fibers," he said. "At the very least, we won't be able to reconstruct their entire ship otherwise. There're some places where the shockwave disintegrated entire sections of its outer skin. If we have to rely only on what we can recover, we'll only be able to fabricate a seriously scaled-down version of their vessel. In order for the hull to have any degree of integrity, to be capable of pressurization, it might have to be no larger than one wing of the original. But as long as there's no minimum amount of mass required in order for the drive system to work, it should hopefully be sufficient."

"I'm not optimistic about the possibilities of replicating this stuff. I am not even sure if we can identify it," Marco admitted.

"Don't be discouraged just because Tan gave up," Emilio insistently said. "We've got an entire department of chemists and metallurgists. Take the first fragments you bring up directly to them. Poole, I'd like you to have some of the rest of your team try to power up and hook themselves into the other devices. Maybe we can figure out which one of them is the intergalactic drive. The rest of you can go with Colin and Marco and help them with whichever pieces they want to start bringing up by shuttle. The biggest sections will of course have to be loaded into the barges by the machines already there."

Colin was alarmed to realize that he was being expected to immediately depart and would have no chance to encourage Eleanor, but he could think of no way to temporarily shirk his responsibility.

Poole retained all the other Artificials to assist him and sent Lentz and Terrance with the two researchers. Having received their assignments, all four individuals proceeded to the partition that divided the immense storage area from the landing bay through which it was loaded. Accompanied by a pair of Artificials, both of which were quite capable pilots, it was not even necessary to wait for a flight coordinator to program a shuttle. In a matter of moments, Colin was unbelievably headed back to LV-426.

"Seems like I just left this place," he contemptuously commented.

"Probably because you just did," Marco agreed with amusement.

"If there's anything you need, I know the shuttles are kept stocked with food from the ship's stores," Terrance amiably offered. "And of course there are also the facilities in the back."

Colin elected not to counter with an old Earth adage about too much information. He knew the Artificials were all programmed to be friendly and informative. Sometimes it just seemed improper. Since the two of them were senior researchers in such different areas of specialization, he knew it had probably been inevitable that he and Eleanor would get separated at some point. It was just that the timing was so terrible. With her worst fears confirmed, in that viable genetic material had now been found, he knew she would need him now more than ever.

He was surprised to realize that he had allowed his excitement about their discovery to be stolen by his concern. He needed to prove the importance of the engineering effort. It was their best option if they had any hope of keeping the director from prioritizing a far more perilous enterprise. Forcing himself to focus on the business at hand, Colin looked out the portal and gave some serious consideration to sizing up what they were about to undertake. He indicated where he thought they should land. Marco was quick to concur.

The foursome spent the next several hours amassing a collection of small fragments that all appeared to have been adjacent in their original arrangement. The approach they took was very much like that of researchers at a crash site. Once they got the pieces up to the Centaur, they would then have to work on reconnecting them if possible. To Colin, it was like working with an immense jigsaw puzzle. The comparison made by Marco was much more obscure.

"It's like fishing," he said.

"Fishing?" queried Colin. "What's that?"

"Most of the fish on Earth are now considered endangered; so there are only certain places and certain times of the year when it's legal, and then it's only catch and release," Marco passionately explained. "Not so very long ago in history, it was a favorite pastime for many people. You put bait on a hook, dropped it in the water on a line, and then tried to snag a fish when he bit on it. Even though it's now only catch and release, you still put them on a line to see how many you can collect – especially in a tournament. Back in the day, you'd scale them, bone them, and cook them to eat. Here it's like we're trying to find the ones that haven't already been scaled and then we're stringing them up on our line."

"I guess what we're doing is about as improbable as trying to make a spacecraft out of fish scales," Colin joked. "But fish are aquatic. You pull them out of water not up out of the plain."

"But what if the hull of this spacecraft is somehow composed of creatures that once were aquatic, but they were then genetically merged and set into the shape we are trying to reconstruct in some small part?" Marco asked. "Even though endangered, there're still some eels on Earth that can generate a sizable electric shock. There are also some sea creatures that hunt by sensing the electromagnetic fields of their prey. Don't you see any similarity to some of the abilities apparently possessed by these parasitoids?"

"Now that you put it that way, maybe so," Colin thoughtfully replied. "Do you mind if I ask what it was that got you started thinking in these terms?"

"Believe it or not, I was considering what you said back on the Centaur," Marco said, smiling broadly. "You said we might have to fabricate a seriously scaled-down version of their vessel."

"So it was the idea of scales, huh?" Colin laughingly asked, making a mental note to remember that Eleanor was not the only one of his shipmates who displayed a penchant for repeating a person's words back to them. "Do you have any other associated insights to offer?"

"Maybe, but please keep in mind that I'm not a marine biologist. It's just a hobby," he replied. "I know there are some starfish that can range all the way from sea level down to its most crushing depths. Maybe that's not really far away from something with the ability to endure the vacuum of space. And an octopus can radically change both the color and the texture of its skin to blend in with its background. I suppose that's pretty far removed from folding space to escape from a predator, but the behavior at least offers some kind of comparison."

"So the derelict may have incorporated abilities that are not entirely unknown among Earth's aquatic animals," Colin concluded.

"Precisely my point," Marco agreed. "The Architects, since I guess that's what we're calling them, may've genetically enhanced similar capabilities in sea creatures that were indigenous to their world. If they had discovered an animal that could utilize some kind of quantum displacement, even if the dislocation was extremely localized, then it's possible their breakthrough it space flight may've even been based on biology."

"You might want to have that conversation with Eleanor," suggested Collin, "after we get back to the Centaur."

"Perhaps you should take the opportunity while I deliver some sample pieces to the Chemistry Department," Marco rejoined. "I'll have to explain that we need to identify the materials and hopefully find a way to fuse them back together. I might be a few minutes, and I'm sure you can represent my ideas to Eleanor."

"I'd be happy to do so," Colin replied, while wondering if Marco suspected what was taking place between the pair and was choosing to cordially extend them an opportunity for interaction that would otherwise not exist. "For my part, I must admit that I'm dubious about our ability to duplicate the fibers – even if we are able to identify their composition. I expect that we'll have to try and reassemble their ship, at least in part; as if that's going to actually be any easier. Have you given any thought to how we might accomplish that? Do you have any ideas on how to restore these connections?"

"The chances of our success may be based on just advanced their technology really is," Marco answered. "Since it so strongly resembles an organism, my hope is that we're dealing with a self-healing ship. Maybe if we simply hold two neighboring pieces in place and send a little electricity through their fibers, they'll fuse back together. It sounds like a long shot, to be sure, but it might be worth a try."

"We should be so lucky," Colin agreed.

Because they were trying to only select fragments that seemed to have come from the same sections of the ship, the process was much more time-consuming that it would have otherwise been. It took several hours for the four workmen to finally fill the shuttle's hold, much of which was spent in conversation about the unusual weight and associated consistency of the samples. By the time they finished, Colin and Marco were both feeling quite fatigued, although Terrance and Lentz showed no traces of tiring.

After removing their environmental suits and falling into their flight seats, the organic individuals were extremely silent all the way back to the Centaur. From the deep, regular breaths being taken by Marco, Colin correctly assumed that his exhausted associate had in fact fallen asleep. The engineer spent most of the flight quietly anticipating his chance to see Eleanor again. He was afraid he would not find her in very good spirits.

As Marco was roused to wakefulness by the landing, Colin said, "I'll meet you in the bay when you're done with the chemists. I'm on my way to exobiology."

With heavy equipment and Artificials on hand, Colin knew he wouldn't be needed to help unload the shuttle. He also wanted to take advantage of every possible minute that Marco's suggestion afforded him. He hurried across the compartment and sprinted down the adjacent corridor. Try as he might, he could not remember the last time he had been so excited to see someone.

As Eleanor caught up with Tan, she said, "That was interesting how Jamul phrased the accomplishment of the architects: connecting their minds to the consciousness of the continuum itself. I got the impression that the two of you know each other. Would you be able to answer a question about his observation?"

"Perhaps," Tan replied.

"His expression almost sounds like another way of saying the mind of God," Eleanor observed. "Do you know if Jamul is a religious man?"

"I believe so but I don't know the particulars of his doctrine," Tan carefully answered. "You'd have to ask him about that yourself."

"Okay, I'll do that. And I don't want to put you on the spot, but there is one question I think I should maybe ask, considering the industry in which we're about to engage," she said just as conversationally as she could.

"What's that," he asked in reply.

"Do you believe in the devil?" she asked.

Tan actually stopped and turned to face her as he answered, "I'm not sure I believe in its personification, but I do believe in evil. And if I come to the conclusion that it's what we've created, I'll be the first to recommend its termination. Does that ease your mind?"

"Marginally," she mysteriously said in reply. When he looked at her quizzically, she explained, "You'd still have to live long enough to act on your conclusion."

Smiling slyly and wrinkling his bushy eyebrows, he replied, "That's the plan."

Knowing approximately how the geneticist would probably proceed, Suki and all the other exobiologists had already assembled most of the required equipment and rolled it into place. They stood by to assist as Tan carefully confirmed their findings.

"How do you want to try to do this?" Eleanor anxiously asked.

"The Sulaco transmitted some results from the research done at Hadley's Hope," he replied. "In order to encourage replication, I have succeeded in synthesizing what I think will serve as a pretty good approximation of the amniotic fluid in the egg sacks. Because the embryo will already exist independently of any arachnid delivery vessel, we can only hope it will go ahead and grow. If it fails to do so, then we'll have to consider cloning. My objective is however to derive a pure specimen, so I'm hoping we won't have to resort to inserting its genetic material into a host cell."

With a level of competence that even Eleanor found remarkable, Tan carried out the procedure he had described. Suki and her team had recovered enough genetic material to facilitate the making of several starts. With extreme caution, Tan placed each of them in an independent receptacle.

"It could be days before we know how successful we have or haven't been," he said. "Meanwhile, I'm going to have to select between the cells of potential hosts. We brought a number of samples onboard from different animals. My overly optimistic hope was that we'd be able to recover enough of a complete cell, along with the genes, that I'd be able to refine the genetic material and use one of its own cells as the host if we had to clone, thereby still producing a pure specimen. But all we got was a sampling of its genes."

"Don't you plan to remove the nucleus of the host cell first?" Eleanor asked. "I'm not sure I understand why its selection is so critical."

"The imitative abilities of the alien make it uncertain as to whether such removal will really render it incapable of copying the host, at least to some extent," Tan replied. "Even if it really is an Alien Queen, as some suppose, we might run that risk."

"Have you given any consideration to the criteria for selecting between the potential hosts?" Eleanor asked.

"Some," he softly responded. "But as I indicated, I was being overly optimistic about what we'd recover. Since this is an exercise in extreme exobiology, I'd be very interested in your input."

Between the exhaustive procedure in the exobiology lab and then the review of the various types of available host cells, Eleanor and Tan were still very much in the midst of trying to make a selection when Colin caught up with them. They listened with interest as he explained Marco's insights.

"I'm sure the ability to bleed molecular acid constitutes a far stronger deterrent to an attacker than a simple emission of ink," Tan ultimately added. "But the latter is somewhat reminiscent of the former, and extremely poisonous secretions are certainly not unknown among the members of the animal kingdom. Although some are now extinct, there're still many contemporary examples."

"Do you have samples from any of the creatures he talked about or you just brought up?" Colin carefully inquired. "And do you think it'd really be advantageous to use any of them?"

While Tan sat considering, Eleanor answered, "We certainly do not want run the risk of making it more dangerous. For instance, it could be very disastrous to use the cells of an electric eel. We need something as innocuous as possible. But if we can match up its abilities with some form of sea life that is actually similar, it might help us get close to the target of a pure specimen."

"That's going to be extremely difficult, especially considering that the only form with which we're familiar has telescopic jaws and is bipedal," Tan objected. "But if we restrict ourselves to bipeds, it really only leaves apes; and pound for pound, apes are seven to ten times stronger than human beings. Many also have prehensile tails and/or arboreal abilities that we might not want to impart to our proposed progeny."

"Not that I want to contradict Marco," Colin said, "but I've seen some of the samples up close and they remind me more of insects or lizards than sea creatures."

"We've considered that," Eleanor answered. "Because some insects go through life stages, they share that similarity with the xenomorphic parasitoids. Unfortunately, many are also exceptionally strong for their body weight. We were probably already starting to lean toward lizards before you came in, although your input is appreciated. Lizards have two arms and two legs, even though their not bipedal. Like the parasitoids, they also lay eggs. Some types are poisonous, but we have samples of many that aren't. And finally, because they're cold-blooded, it's possible the clone wouldn't be quite as able to tolerate exposure to outer space. This could conceivably increase our control of the specimen."

"Sounds like you've already made a decision," Colin concluded.

"It's too important not to keep weighing all the options until the last minute," Eleanor explained. "If the replication works, cloning won't even be necessary. If it doesn't, we've probably got a couple of days before we have to make a final selection. And this debate will almost certainly continue until then."

"So in the meantime," Colin teasingly observed, "the two of you are almost going to be too much fun to be around."

"More so than usual," Tan frivolously said, rolling his eyes at Eleanor.

"That's about the size of it," Eleanor agreed with disgust, scrunching up the corners of her mouth.

"Well then," Colin said, standing up and making a show of stretching. "I guess I had better go see how Marco is doing with our impossible project."

"I'll come with," said Eleanor, also rising. Turning to Tan, she said, "I think the two of us have done just about all the damage we can do for one day."

After they were far enough down the hall that Colin was certain there was no chance of being overheard by the geneticist, he said, "The embryos might not develop, and even the cloning procedure might not work. Cheer up, there's still a chance that you could fail miserably."

A slight flexing of her cheeks was her only evident acknowledgement of his attempt at humor before she finally replied, "Even if we have to resort to some gene-splicing, the cloning will work. We have just enough genetic material to assure that. It's very doubtful that Tan will get his pure specimen, but I'm afraid we'll soon have something with which to test the containment area."

"I understand and absolutely share your concern," he consolingly offered. "But can't you employ a little optimism? The containment area could hold, as it was designed to do. And there's no point in dreading something that's still possibly days away."

"I'm still upset about what was supposed to happen," she inexplicably said. When he glanced at her questioningly, she added, "Oh, that's right. You missed out on that part of the conversation."

"What exactly did I miss?" he asked with concern as he purposely slowed their pace down the passageway.

"I'm sure you caught on to the fact that we have cellular samples of all kind of Earth animals onboard," she replied. "Why do you think that would be?"

A wave of obvious apprehension swept across his face before he replied, "I'm afraid to think."

"It seems that Weyland-Yutani was being extremely optimistic about what we would recover here," she explained. "They were hoping to test what would happen if the aliens got loose on Earth, by observing the types of progeny produced by various hosts. That's way beyond an interest in morphology. It seems that our darling director and his buddies in bio-weapons wanted to find out what the results would be if the parasitoids were used for personnel suppression on our home planet."

"You've got to be kidding," Colin disbelievingly said as he slowly came to a full stop.

"I had some suspicions and finally managed to corner Tan during our conversation," she said. "He had no choice but to admit it. That is why they needed such a preeminent geneticist to be part of the program. And until moments ago, he and Emilio were the only ones who knew about his mission's real parameters."

"I'm sure he'll tell the director," Colin concluded. "I'd ask if you think you might be in danger, but I know about your settlement with the company and your instructions to your attorney."

"First of all, that settlement and those instructions really mean nothing out here," she pragmatically replied. "The people who committed those atrocities are all dead and none of the victims left survivors. So, there's nobody left to prosecute and nobody besides me to compensate. Secondly, now that those test tubes are no longer empty, I'm in at least as much danger as everyone else. What have you and Marco been up to?"

"He's got an idea about how to possibly fuse the fragments," he excitedly answered, brightening as he spoke of something that held potential promise. "He took some over to the chemists, but he's probably back in the bay right now. We could be on the very verge of an historic event. Would you care to join me?"

With a sweeping gesture, he indicated the nearby hatchway that led into the storage bay where all the artifacts were being accumulated and towards which they had stopped making any appreciable progress. They resumed their walk until they had quickly closed the remaining distance. He chivalrously held the hatch open for her and allowed Eleanor to enter first. They immediately found Marco and most of the fragments from the shuttle.

"Ah, you're just in time," the synthetics expert announced as he saw them enter. "I'm about to put my theory to the test."

A few of the Artificials were already engaged in maneuvering some of the fragments into the configuration they had occupied in the side of the alien ship. Having successfully achieved that arrangement while Marco rolled a recharging station over to their location, they then held the pieces in place while he attached its leads to some of the fibers along the outermost edges of the collage. He revealed how nervous he really was by biting his lip out of nervous habit as he stepped back to the station's controller keyboard.

"I'm going to start with the power level that gave us our first indication of a response from the dais," he informatively said. "From there, if necessary, I'll increase the power up to the level that it seems to like best. If that doesn't do it, I'll have to be very careful going any higher. We don't want to take the chance of damaging the fibers in these fragments. We may still need them."

Colin and Eleanor both wondered if Marco was cognizant of having spoken as if the artifacts were capable of personal preference. Both concluded that it was simply the side effect of working with Artificials. But if the researchers were correct in their thinking, then the derelict really represented a kind of constructed organism and might possess a level of sentience superior even to theirs.

As Colin watched Marco warily adjust the recharging station's controls, it occurred to him that he had not even asked about whether the Artificials had enjoyed any success in their attempts to interact with the consoles. But he was not about to interrupt their activity with such a question. Having been alerted about the experiment that Marco was about to conduct, Emilio entered the bay just then with Jamul and Stanford right behind him. Like everyone else they stood silently off to the side as they all awaited the outcome. But they did not have to wait long before there was a significant response.

The edges began to glow, even where no power leads were attached. All the seams started disappearing and the scarcely supported shape suddenly flexed itself into rigidity. The Artificials struggled, shifting their weight, as they tried to keep its new cohesiveness balanced between them. As this occurred, each of the assembled organic individuals felt a vibration, a powerful pulse, emanate from the freshly unified formation. It was every bit as worrisome as it was wondrous.

"What the hell was that?" Emilio demanded.

As the Artificials looked at him inquiringly, Marco replied, "The skin of their ship was apparently crafted to interact with the continuum. Perhaps what we experienced was the reestablishment of that link."

Before the director could comment further, his com-link chimed and, after answering it, he returned his attention to the synthetics expert and said, "That was the bridge. They just detected what they can only describe as a quantum disturbance. It came from inside the ship. It was located in this bay. If that's what happens when you get just a few pieces to fuse back together, what'll happen if you assemble an entire ship?"

"We're only going to assemble one small section of it at a time," Marco countered. "I really don't think there's any cause for concern. It's not like anything was damaged!"

"Unfortunately, there's no guarantee that the entire ship won't resonate every time a new section is put into place," Colin unexpectedly argued. "And we've no way to assess what the eventual results might be. We could weaken the integrity of the Centaur without even knowing it. Since we've no idea how it was originally assembled, it might be wise to utilize a more controlled environment. Perhaps we'd better just put it back together in the same place it came apart. Hopefully putting some distance between the disturbance and our ship will create a buffer between the two."

"We'll have to work in environmental suits," Marco complained.

"Poole and his team won't," Emilio observed. "And we won't have to transport all the pieces up from LV-426. It might make the work go quicker."

"Not that it matters," Poole interjected during the pause in the conversation, "but I've confirmed that none of my team experienced the anomaly you're describing. I don't know why it would've been imperceptible to us. But since our self-diagnostics find no evidence of any effects, it seems doubtful that the Centaur could be compromised."

"Nonetheless," Emilio stonily said, "The phenomenon was extremely unpleasant and I see no reason why every person on this ship should be repeatedly exposed to it. We've got too many critical operations going on at the same time to take unnecessary chances of breaking someone's concentration at the wrong moment. Would you agree, Eleanor?"

So, you only ask for my opinion when you know I'm going to back you up.

"I absolutely agree," she instantly answered. And then, she added, "In fact, since we already have parasitoid embryos gestating onboard, I'd even be in favor of evacuating all nonessential personnel to the planetoid."

Being aware that an increasingly abrasive relationship existed between Eleanor and Emilio, and desperate to interject jocularity into the conversation, Stanford asked, "What if someone only feels nonessential? Does that count?"

"What's the matter? Can't you feel the love?" Colin jokingly asked him.

To Terrance and Lentz, who were standing close by, Poole said, "Sounds like there must be something else going on in here that's beyond ability to experience."

Marco guffawed. He knew just how rare it was for Artificials to explore the existential realm of humor. He also appreciated just how remarkably perceptive the android actually was, since Poole seemingly understood that an attempt was underway to provide comic relief and thus defuse an unfortunate confrontation. Given the desirability of encouraging such behavior in the Artificials, almost everyone jovially joined in. Emilio abstained all by himself.

At the conclusion of the laughter, he turned to Stanford and said, "I will tell you when you're nonessential. Everybody get back to work. Your shifts are almost over."

Much to everyone's amusement, Stanford pretended to pout as Emilio turned away. The director did not even look back to determine the reason for the resumed merriment. Chalice did a very good job of emulating Stanford's expression as she strolled over and slapped the telemetry expert on the back. Marco immediately found himself wondering if the quantum disturbance had really failed to have any effect on the Artificials. They were not known for manifesting such camaraderie.

"The recharging stations are very mobile," he finally said. "And since we'll eventually need the consoles back on LV-426 when we're ready to hook up however much we can assemble of the skin, we might as well load everything back into the shuttles."

Even though the Artificials could have easily accomplished the task alone, everyone stayed and helped. There was not enough time to accomplish anything more meaningful anyway. With that completed, they are retired to the mess hall. Since the Artificials could undertake the transfer of all the accumulated materials back to the planetoid while all the organics were asleep, they remained with the group until the meal was finally consumed and everyone retired. Marco felt that they were actually thanking everyone for their help.

For at least a pair of the participants, breaking fast after the ensuing sleep-cycle was an emotionally difficult ordeal. Since the reconstruction effort was being relocated to LV-426, Eleanor and Colin would soon be seeing little of each other. In addition to the team of engineers, headed up by Colin, Marco and the Artificials would also soon be spending little time with their other associates. Stanford, Jamul, and even Tan seemed somewhat dismayed at the development.

Everyone tried to appear optimistic as they faced each other across what could well be their last communal meal for the foreseeable future, but not even the Artificials gave a particularly persuasive performance. While the senior researchers with whom they most associated were asleep, they had transferred the artifacts in the shuttles back to LV-426 and set up an assembly area. They then prepared to serve as pilots and escort the team of engineers and other researchers to the surface. But even they appeared to suffer from whatever type of sadness can depress a synthetic person. Even to Marco, it was strange to see them all so out of sorts.

Eleanor was especially distressed. Once the meal was over she would have to head for the dreaded genetics section of the exobiology lab. And in the course of the breakfast conversation, as if it were the appropriate arena for such disgusting discussion, Tan had already indicated that the embryos were all successfully gestating in their test tubes and even growing at a most remarkable rate. Not only would she soon be separated from her friend and encouraging companion, Colin; but she was also about to confront in the flesh the frightful monsters of her nightmares. To her, the entire situation seemed increasingly unacceptable.

Empathically anticipating how emotional the meal might become, Emilio Esperanza abstained from attending. Against the backdrop of such bothersome goodbyes, he knew how hard it would be to hide his satisfaction. They had successfully resurrected the alien and even the derelict was giving up its secrets. He had taken an immense gamble when he chose to assemble such an amalgam of individuals. With such divergent agendas, he knew the mixture might be combustible. But as an extra bonus to the way everything had worked out, the most unpredictable elements had now been isolated. Eleanor was much less likely to become a threat while separated from her newfound friends and teamed up with a geneticist who had repeatedly proven his constancy to the company. However, he did not understand what a confidant she had discovered in Suki.

After escorting Colin to the shuttle bay and fighting back tears while saying farewell, Eleanor steadfastly forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until she had finally traversed the distance to the exobiology lab. Mustering just as much clinical detachment as she could, she confronted the terror-filled test tubes. The contents were already close to exceeding the limitations of the containers. Tan had not exaggerated at all. He moved to stand beside her as she stood there trying to stifle her horror.

"Astonishing, aren't they?" he rhetorically inquired. "I wish I could claim my amniotic equivalent was the catalyst for their explosive expansion, but I think it was the organisms themselves. While you were all in the bay I made some modifications to the containment system, since we now have multiple subjects. The enclosures that will take them through their next stage of their development have been moved into the holding bay. Essentially, they'll just hatch out right into their cages. Would you care to take a look at what I did?"

Eleanor wordlessly followed him. She was almost surprised by just how satisfactory the arrangement appeared. But she was still concerned that they were now intending to incarcerate multiple creatures. To her, the margin of error involved in such an enterprise increased exponentially with the addition of each nightmarish subject.

Even though she was sure Tan would simply pay lip service to the infallibility of their security system, she found that she still had to ask, "We're absolutely certain that we can keep them contained, even if they're acting in concert in order to escape?"

"Redundancy is the secret of doing anything successfully in space," Tan confidently answered. "And in case he failed to mention it, Colin helped to design this system. In fact if he hadn't been forced to return to LV-426, I'm sure he'd be standing here assuring you of your safety himself."

"For the purposes of argument, I'm going to say I'm satisfied," Eleanor forced herself to say. "After all, it's not like we're going to be able to keep them in those test tubes very much longer anyway. Let's go ahead and carry out the transfer."

To prevent any possible mistakes, they used automation to accomplish the transfer. Everybody in the exobiology lab stopped what they were doing long enough to watch the procedure. Suki sidled up alongside Eleanor as the perilous process was completed.

"So, it looks like we're getting new neighbors. Isn't this just incredibly exciting?" she asked with embellished animation.

Eleanor pursed her lips and looked at the floor for a moment before finally replying, "I know how unnerving it's going to be having them only a matter of bulkheads away, but the entire rest of the crew is depending on us to do the right thing if there's any problem. And I'd rather be here, where we have the option of zapping them into outer space, than anywhere else on the ship."

"I haven't been able to get my eyes off those test tubes ever since you and Tan put monsters in them," Suki admitted. "Now that there's something like meaningful distance between, I'm tempted to go back into the deep freeze just to get totally away from them. Would you care to accompany me?"

"Have you had any luck with the cadavers?" Eleanor asked, as she turned to follow Suki.

"Just questions and observations," she conversationally answered. "Probably more questions though."

"Could you please be a little less specific?" Eleanor teasingly suggested as the two women slipped into environmental suits and prepared to enter the freezer.

"How 'bout if I just show you?" Suki playfully asked in reply as she finished securing the latches on her suit.

With a nod, Eleanor followed her into the freezer but then immediately found herself wondering just how preferable was the view in its distinctly crypt-like confines to the one they had only just abandoned. Images of gruesome death were everywhere. Suki roused her from her revulsion by directing her attention to the most immediate exhibits.

"At first I was mostly interested in the imitative abilities of the parasitoids," she said. "So I was focusing almost solely on the differences between the Architects and how they were mirrored in the monsters that used them as hosts. As a result, it took me awhile to start considering the actual similarities between the genetically modified crewmembers."

"Okay, and what did you find?" Eleanor patiently asked.

"Even though they're of much more significant stature in comparison to us, they are almost conspicuously humanoid," she slowly responded. "Whereas the parasitoids may be bipedal merely as a result of mimicking their hosts, the ratios of the external features of the Architects exactly parallel our own."

"Exactly?" Eleanor questioningly echoed. "Just how exactly are we talking about?"

"Right down to the micron," Suki answered. She seemed decidedly apprehensive to be sharing such information.

"That's got to be the most incredible cosmic coincidence of all time," Eleanor softly said in reply. And then, she asked, "Have you any idea about what to make of it?"

"None that would not call all concepts of sanity into question," Suki candidly replied. "But then again, I'm not the senior exobiologist onboard; so, I don't really think it's up to me to make such a determination."

"Thanks a lot!" Eleanor jokingly exclaimed. "Remind me to promote you real soon!"

"Considering what you're now in charge of," Suki replied, tilting her head and looking sidelong at her supervisor, "I wouldn't want your job. And I am afraid to think what such a promotion would probably mean had happened to you."

"I seem to remember a comment Colin made about your motivational speeches last time we were in here," Eleanor darkly observed, frowning affectedly at her assistant. "I'm surprised I let you trick me into coming in here again."

"We could go hang out with the new boys on the block instead, if you'd prefer," Suki countered, shrugging her shoulders.

"I guess they are all male at that," Eleanor agreed, flabbergasted. "But I hardly think they are deserving of terms of endearment. And if you go and start trying to name them, we're going to have problems. I'll have you confined to the infirmary."

"Would you please?" Suki playfully pleaded. "I'd be ever so grateful."

"Don't go getting your hopes up. I need you right where you are too much," Eleanor honestly admitted. "Let's get out of here."

As she slipped out of the environmental suit and headed back across the exobiology bay, she noticed that Tan had become intensely occupied with something that seemingly required microscopy. Interested in learning what he was up to, she approached his work station. But he was so engrossed that he apparently failed to apprehend her proximity.

"You look very busy," she casually observed. As he turned towards her and she saw that she had startled him, she gestured at the piece of equipment he was employing and asked, "Microbiology?"

She abruptly realized that he had lost track of her and, due to not understanding that she was merely in an adjacent compartment, had engaged in some form of industry that he had hoped to keep hidden. She tried to keep her sudden suspicion from creeping into her expression as he fumbled for words.

"I hope you're not going to be terribly upset," he nervously said, trying to preface his admission with a disclaimer, "but you know we have never determined if an Alien Queen also mimics the characteristics of its host. Now that we've isolated the purest specimens we can hope to obtain, and the embryos have gestated sufficiently enough to reveal that they are in fact all female, I've been tasked with trying to make that determination."

Although circumstances caused him to work in the area for which she had oversight, she was not Tan's supervisor. And she hardly needed to ask who had given him such an assignment. But because they were engaged in such potentially perilous research, there was no point in straining her professional relationship with the man if it could be avoided.

"How do you hope to make that determination?" she asked with what she managed to make sound like nothing more than professional curiosity.

"Cloning," he simply replied. "I'm making use of those host cells that we discussed."

"You have four Alien Queens now in the containment area and you're trying to make a fifth?" she carefully inquired, raising her eyebrows at the very idea.

"Yes," he trembled as he responded.

"That's cheating. You can't have more than four of a kind," she comically concluded. "Remind me to never play cards with you."

Even though it was a perceptibly delayed reaction, Tan laughed uproariously as she turned and walked away. She was pleased with herself for having found a way to call his activity into question without offending him. She had cautioned and reassured him at the same time. Maybe I'm learning how to play this dangerous game.

It was actually a little too early in the shift for a meal break. But since the maturation of the embryos would probably soon be dictating their schedules for her entire team, she thought it best to take advantage of the brief break in the activity. Suki took notice as her supervisor, upon leaving the exobiology bay, turned in the direction of the mess hall. She hurried to follow. There seemed little point in taking their breaks separately.

Sauntering into the immense eating area, the two women espied Jamul sitting alone in a corner. He was staring vacantly at his dicta-screen. There was an empty plate sitting beside him along with a half full cup of coffee that was no longer steaming. He appeared completely preoccupied, not even acknowledging their approach until they were about to slip into the seats on either side of him.

"How's it going?" Eleanor asked, using the colloquialism to establish familiarity as he looked up with surprise.

"I'm not sure," he honestly answered.

Leaning over and looking at the display on the dicta-screen, Eleanor recognized the original image from the derelict's dais and asked, "What's the matter?"

"I have been thinking about the representation of Leo 1," he pensively replied, "and I cannot reconcile certain aspects of the image."

"You think you may've gotten the galaxy wrong?" Suki asked, suddenly concerned.

"No, it's definitely Leo 1," the stellar cartographer answered. "At least, that's the way Leo 1 looked eight-hundred and eighty thousand years ago."

"What?" Eleanor asked, completely confused. "What do you mean?"

"The light we see left it that long ago, because that's how far away it is," Jamul softly explained. "In order for the Architects to travel instantaneously across enormous regions of space, as we're assuming they do, they'd also have to be traveling through time. Even an instantaneous jump from here to the nearest star system would constitute time travel. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

"Yes," Eleanor and Suki answered in unison.

"If their ship is truly capable of such seemingly impossible exploits, it would seem to stand to reason that their navigational system would show potential targets as they are – not as they were," Jamul insisted. "Otherwise, their course could be off by thousands or even millions of light years, especially if they're leaping between galaxies."

"I see the problem," Eleanor agreed. "What do you think it means?"

"I've come up with only three possible explanations," he slowly answered.

"Go ahead," she said, encouraging him to continue.

"They may be hyper-accurately compensating for the relative motion of their target," he suggested. "The problem with that explanation is that it would probably only account for where a galaxy is; not for the configuration of the star systems within it, unless they'd already been there and had that information. And so, it wouldn't work for the initial visit."

"What would?" Suki asked as Eleanor sat there considering his idea.

"A series of short jumps would facilitate getting an increasingly accurate fix on their target," he replied. "The problem with this explanation is that it really does not agree with our idea about how advanced they actually are. It seems rather incredibly incongruent to be traveling instantaneously in a living vessel between galaxies, but relying on what can only be described as a "slop counts" kind of navigation."

"I see what you mean," Suki concurred.

Nodding in agreement, Eleanor asked, "What was the other possibility? You did say there were three, didn't you?"

"Please remember that we're dealing with a technology beyond our comprehension and making what may be completely uneducated guesses about the unknown," he said. "The third possibility is that we're dealing with something that's from nowhere near what we would call the present."

"Can you possibly explain that any further?" Eleanor inquired as Suki sat there with her mouth hanging open.

"We are assuming they realized what was happening to them just in time to scuttle their ship," Jamul replied. "Perhaps they deliberately dislocated themselves in time and used their navigational system to try and complicate the spread of any contagion."

"So they may've actually been from Leo 1 when it looked the way it did in the image, but they sent themselves almost a million years forward in time to avoid contaminating a recovery team?" Suki asked.

"Possibly," Jamul replied.

"Have you considered the possibility that they didn't get where they had intended to go, that the emergence of the aliens interrupted them on route?" Eleanor asked. "If they were coming from Leo 1, what would have been along their course if they hadn't landed on LV-426?"

"I considered that. But without knowing exactly when their ship sat down, there's no way I can even attempt to make such a calculation," he sadly responded.

"Of course not," Eleanor unhappily admitted, accepting the disappointment.

"Have you talked to the director about any of this?" Suki decided to take the chance of asking.

"Hardly," Jamul replied. "Emilio is only interested in answers. All I have right now are some incredibly esoteric questions."

Considering Colin and the activity in which he was engaged, Eleanor tensely asked, "How does this complicate the reconstruction of the derelict and the possibility of actually using its technology?"

Jamul looked up and met her eyes as he replied, "I wish I knew. I really do."

When Emilio and Stanford came walking into the mess hall only a moment later, she surprised Jamul by swiftly leaning over and switching off his dicta-screen. As she did so, she laughed and said, "You win. I should've known better than to play three-dimensional chess with a stellar cartographer."

Striding up to the table, Emilio smilingly said, "I'm glad to see you've got time to play games."

Smiling contemptuously, Eleanor coldly countered, "We were just in Exobiology, but we're gambling with our lives in there. Maybe you'd like to come on over and ante up."

"Thanks," Emilio said, shaking his head and actually sounding appreciative, "but we thought we'd take the ultimate risk and eat what they're serving in here today."

"I survived," Jamul cordially commented as he quickly gathered his accouterments and arose. He then paused for effect and added, "So far."

"That's encouraging," the director grinningly rejoined.

"It looks like you have yet to eat," Stanford accurately observed, looking at Eleanor and Suki. He then politely added, "Perhaps you ladies would care to join us."

Feeling as if she had just been drafted directly to the front lines, Eleanor exchanged a tight-lipped look with Suki. But with no way to politely excuse themselves, they nodded and followed the two men into the serving line.

Chapter 5

Downsizing

The view across the vacant vistas of LV-426 had definitely not improved while they were all back aboard the Centaur; in fact, to Colin, the landscape looked about as bleak as he unfortunately felt. It seemed to him as if they had taken two steps forward and one step back. All the control consoles, which they had so painstakingly extracted, were now headed back to the wickedly windswept world from which each had been conscientiously recovered. In an instant of exceptionally atypical cynicism, he wondered if an inspection of their alien undersides would reveal the expression "return to sender" inscribed there.

The Artificials were aware of his affinity for Eleanor and how his current assignment had necessitated their separation. It seemed implausible to him that simple programming could account for the supportiveness they unanimously showed. It was as if he suddenly had eight newfound friends, each of whom was resolved to somehow fill the void caused by her absence. Those that had not been called upon to pilot any of the shuttles all sat in close proximity to him and politely attempted to initiate conversation. Such an expressive show of sympathy seemed altogether outside the capacity of synthetic companions.

At his suggestion that they may have made a mistake in removing the consoles from the derelict's control room, Vladimir pulled up the program that they had used to simulate the shattering of the ship into its fragmented configuration. With Sangria's assistance, he started examining options for a scaled-down version of the original vessel. Sitting beside Colin, Marco looked on with silent satisfaction. After a few moments, Vladimir spoke.

"The control room is in the widest section of the ship," he observed. "If our goal is to compensate for the incinerated material by assembling something that approximates the craft in miniature, we may be unable to use that section. In reality, it's just as well that we went ahead and moved those consoles. It would've ultimately been unavoidable. And I'm sure we expedited our recognition of their capacity for intergalactic travel by doing so."

This reminded Colin of an item of information he had failed to acquire, so he asked, "Were you able then to figure out what the various devices do?"

"We have some ideas," Vladimir replied. "But before we'll be able to verify them, the devices will all have to be hooked up to one another again. Since we're not working with completed circuits, we really can't make conclusive determinations. However, we're very optimistic that once they've been reconnected we will be able understand how they each interface."

"We should be able to extract the housing of the control room itself and use it as the centralized location around which to build our downsized model," Sangria suggested. "It was nevertheless still advisable to evacuate the consoles first and minimize any danger of damaging them during transit. We just need to be absolutely sure we understand how all the routing works before we try and connect them to the ship in its new configuration."

"And just how impossible do you think that'll be?" Colin asked, unable to replace his pessimism with their preferred optimism.

"Since we can interface with the fibers and track their individual routes," she replied, seeming surprised that he had failed to anticipate the answer, "it'll actually be very easy. It'll just be time-consuming. But then again, we're not getting paid by the hour."

Looking into her artificial eyes, Colin had the distinct impression that she somehow realized she had inadvertently indicated just how prolonged a separation she thought he and Eleanor would be required to endure, and had then used humor to try and obfuscate the reference. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that even Marco was amazed.

Seizing the chance to steer the conversation away from the quite possibly extended duration of their endeavor and back to its earlier subject, Vladimir said, "We should have no problems reconstructing the ship. It's a simple matter of deciding on which design we should adopt. Once you've figured out the most functional form that can be built with the remaining material, we'll start putting it into place."

"Is that your exceptionally polite way of telling me that I need to get my mind on my work?" Colin laughingly inquired.

Meeting his amused gaze, Vladimir relied, "It's really up to you to decide how quickly you want to accomplish this task. We just need you to tell us what to do. If you get ahead of us, you might want to put some thought into the next part of the project."

"What's that?" Colin asked, genuinely mystified.

"The test flight will require a crew," Vladimir evenly answered. "Of course, Emilio will make the final selection. But I'm sure it will be largely based on your recommendations."

Colin realized that, because of how badly he was missing Eleanor, he had somehow allowed himself to become completely focused only on the construction of the downsized ship. It had escaped his attention that the ultimate ambition was to attempt its actual use. If they were right, then the craft he was about to collaborate in creating would be capable of dislocating itself in time. Hence, if the Artificials should fail to understand any aspect of its operation, the brand new colony of Alien Queens on the Centaur could be the least of their concerns. The unlucky crew of his amalgamated organism could end up stranded in intergalactic eternity. He swallowed hard as he considered that his position as the senior engineer would indisputably place him on that ship; and because of her being the senior exobiologist, Eleanor would also be billeted aboard.

Whereas he had just been fretting about being away from her, he now found himself wondering just how much he could drag his heels without being obvious about it. Moving to sit beside Vladimir, Colin spent the rest of their descent examining possible options for assembling a miniaturized version of the alien vessel. He was reassured to discover that there seemed to be numerous solutions, many of which shared a centralized structure in common. He would be able to seriously slow the construction by scrupulously pondering how it would really be best to proceed from that point. Though the encouraged Artificials altogether misinterpreted its meaning, he smiled as he recognized that he had organized his own little rebellion without any help at all from Eleanor.

As the shuttle was circling to land, Colin turned to Vladimir and Sangria, saying, "We need to extract the control room from the section of the craft in which it is housed, paying particular attention to all the connections that will have to be severed. The majority of the models for the miniature all have a centralized section that will need to be built around it. Since we don't know how the original ship was grown, it's anyone's guess as to whether we should build the rest of the ship and then connect it to the control room or start at the control and assemble the ship from there. I'm open to suggestions."

Colin was initially surprised when Vladimir and Sangria allowed Marco to answer the question, but he quickly found himself wondering if they had actually anticipated his input as the synthetics expert said, "I am afraid it's possible that we're going to experience one of those quantum resonations each time we attach a new section to the ship. As a result, it could be catastrophic to make the most major connections once all the rest of the ship is already assembled. I cannot promise that there'll be no severe disturbance as the last piece is finally put into place and the craft becomes complete, but I think the best way to reduce the overall effect is to begin at the control room and assemble the rest of the ship from there."

"If some kind of organic growth was actually involved, the most practical progression would have been outward from a central nexus," Sangria agreed.

"Okay, then we should collect the pieces we'll need to form the new framework that will house the control room," Colin concluded. "After we've set it up and reinstalled all the consoles, we can begin building the centralized section around it. In the meantime, I'll try to figure out which of all the possible shapes should represent our final configuration."

"Sounds like a plan," Marco concurred.

Before they could disembark, the two men had to don environmental suits. Because they had neglected to do this while still in flight, they were soon left to themselves.

As the sealing of the airlock placed the departing Artificials beyond any possibility of earshot, Colin turned to Marco and asked, "Are they different?"

Winking at his quizzical companion, Marco jokingly replied, "My good friend, they've always been different. They're Artificials."

"That's not what I meant!" Colin exclaimed as he playfully slapped Marco on the side of his helmet, causing the synthetics expert to involuntarily flinch. "I am asking you if they are different since we all experienced that first quantum disturbance."

"Maybe," Marco admitted. "But you must bear in mind that they are actually learning machines, designed to adapt. The behaviors we are observing may be nothing more the result of their interaction with so many humans. Like us, their characters are kinetic. I am sure you'll agree that neither of us are the same as we were only a few days ago."

"I see your point, but I'm not sure it accounts for everything," Colin countered.

"At the very least, I see nothing insidious in these changes," Marco replied. "They're much more empathic, even to the extent of seeming genuinely caring. They're mastering humor, something that exceeds the understanding of even some humans I know. I would say they're improving, whether as a result of the influence of alien technology or not. The situation really doesn't allow for me to take them offline and run a full set of diagnostics."

"I didn't mean to suggest they were malfunctioning or that we were in danger," Colin explained. "I just think something strange might be going on here."

"When time allows, or if I see any overt evidence of an outside influence, I'll run the full workup on each of them," Marco consolingly said. "But for now, we need them down here with us far too much. Most of the work we have to do is just far too delicate for big machines."

As they were cycling the airlock, Colin quickly said, "I wasn't in the bay when those other devices were tested. I'm assuming Poole is no longer the only one who interfaced with the Architects' technology?"

Thumbing a switch to keep the outer door from opening, Marco replied, "No, he isn't. But they're entirely independent of each other, and I'm seeing changes in behavior even in the ones who engaged in no such interface. I also checked the firewalls of each of the Artificials who did. None of them were compromised. I can assure you of that."

"Okay, I guess I'm just being paranoid," Colin said as he indicated that Marco could go ahead and allow the outer door to open. "It must be all the monsters I've been around lately."

"We're dealing with a kind of creature that could conceivably cause the extinction of our race," Marco recapped, "and a technology that could allow us to travel through time. If we're to make no monumental mistakes, we need just as many paranoid people as we can possibly get."

"I knew there was some reason they let me sign up!" Colin teasingly said.

"Yeah, they found me standing in the same line," Marco grinningly agreed. "It might be that our artificial friends are actually the sanest people we know. They might have to save us from ourselves before it's all over."

Eleanor had been hoping for a chance to talk with Jamul concerning his comment in the bay about the mind of God. Despite Suki's presence and the lack of an acquaintance with her spiritual views, Eleanor had been on the brink of broaching the subject when the untimely arrival of Emilio and Stanford unexpectedly thwarted the opportunity. Had there been any escape from the situation, she would have preferred to miss the meal that then ensued. Between Suki's intervention and Stanford serving as a referee, they all survived the ordeal; but it seemed like the friction between her and the director was constantly on the increase. By the time she and her assistant were able to politely excuse themselves, she felt as if her stomach had started to take on the characteristics of an alien organism.

As they finally made their way out of the mess hall, she turned to Suki and said, "I'm going to need an antacid for dessert. Would you happen to have any on hand?"

"Sorry to disappoint you; and I was just thinking the same thing," Suki smilingly said. "But maybe we should swing by the infirmary. It wouldn't hurt to meet the medical staff."

There was no need for her assistant to be more candid about the inference. Eleanor understood that Suki was insinuating the level of danger in which their shared profession had placed them, and there was wisdom in her suggestion. If anything were to go wrong, the proficiency of the physicians could be the final factor that decided who would survive.

The infirmary was easily as impressive as the exobiology lab. Since her job involved so much research, Eleanor had seen centers that specialized in the study of hypersleep; vast facilities where the boundaries of human hibernation were being perpetually pushed back. Even they had not exceeded the cutting-edge technology with which she and Suki immediately found themselves surrounded as they entered the medical bay.

"I've seen hospital ships that aren't so well equipped," Suki whispered to Eleanor as the doorway behind them swooshed shut.

"That's probably because they don't also keep murderous monsters onboard," said a voice from off to their right side. "But no safari should be without a surgeon."

"Safari," Eleanor echoed, as a blonde woman in blue scrubs made her way towards them. "That's a word right out of antiquity."

"I minored in medical history, although it probably should've been called barbarism for the well-intended," the woman explained. She then extended her hand and said, "Hi. I'm Kalinda Dubois, Chief Medical Officer aboard the Centaur. I'm pleased to meet you."

"Hello. I'm Eleanor, the Senior Exobiologist, and this is my right arm, Suki," Eleanor said, also extending her hand.

"I know who you are. We were in the meeting together when you were first brought onboard," Kalinda replied as the two shook hands. Turning and shaking hands with Suki, she added, "I'm sure however that I've not met you before. Please allow me to welcome both of you to my medical bay. Are you just trying to make sure you see the whole ship, or is there something I can possibly help you with?"

"I would like to eventually see the entire Centaur," Eleanor answered. "But right now we're both in need of antacids."

"Ah, been to the mess hall have we?" Kalinda laughed.

"It wasn't so much the meal as the company we kept," Eleanor honestly admitted.

"Ah, dined with the director then did we?" Kalinda asked in reply, precisely repeating the tone of her original question.

"Good guess!" Eleanor exclaimed, perceptibly impressed. "And how exactly did you figure that out?"

"It wasn't difficult. The two of you have been sparing with each other ever since you came aboard," Kalinda replied as she turned and, motioning for the two women to follow her, led the way to the pharmacy. "It's been quite refreshing to see someone stand up to him the way you have, although I only observed it firsthand during the meeting. Some of my associates have reported your other exploits, or at least the one on the bridge."

"You're really not offended by my attitude?" Eleanor pressed. "I'm sure some would call it insubordinate. After all, you are the chief medical officer of a starship on a mission for the bio-weapons division of Weyland-Yutani. Aren't you part of their program?"

"While there are doctors who've diabolically devoted themselves to the taking of life, I'm not one of them," Kalinda answered as she opened a cabinet and removed the bottle of requested antacids. "And considering his qualifications to carry out such wicked work, Emilio hardly needs help in that area. I'm here in case things go wrong."

"I'd like to say I'm here to keep that from happening, but I'm not sure I'm doing such a good job," Eleanor said, frowning.

"As long as I'm only treating people for things as menial as sour tummies, you'll hear no complaints from me," Kalinda answered with a smile. "You just keep my infirmary free of anyone needing to have an alien embryo removed, and we'll get along just fine."

"I'll try not to disappoint you," Eleanor evenly answered.

"What if the unimaginable were to happen and someone actually did get infected?" Suki asked. "Do you think there's any chance for their survival?"

"It isn't the implantation that's lethal," Kalinda answered. "Death only results as the weanling sheds its host. Surgical intervention might be possible in the interim."

"You think you could successfully extract it and save the person's life?" Suki asked.

"I'd prefer to never find out," Kalinda answered. "But since I'm essentially obsessed with the fear that it might become necessary, I've given quite a lot of thought to possible procedures. I'd like to think there's at least a chance of success."

"We'd like to hear them," Eleanor suggested, looking to Suki who nodded in reply.

"Such a large incision in so delicate an area incurs certain risks," Kalinda answered, "even without the presence of the parasitoid. And the survival of the entire medical team, as well as that of the patient, may depend on its dormancy. The most sensible solution is hibernation. In fact, hypersleep as a surgical technique has now been used in numerous situations. It seriously slows the patient's metabolism, drastically diminishing blood loss, and it allows for a type of regulatory interface that would otherwise be almost impossible to establish. It should also reduce both the rate of development and the responsiveness of the parasitical stowaway, thereby rendering it inert during removal. At least, that's my hope."

"But if it works, then the patient would live, right?" Suki asked, sounding cautiously optimistic.

"Unfortunately, we have no idea of the extent to which the embryo interacts with its host," Kalinda carefully countered. "I've reviewed enough of the information to know that the parasitoids incorporate some of the host's characteristics. This implies an impressive exchange of genetic information. And since we have never encountered a situation were the host didn't die as a result of being shed, we don't really know if that was the extent of the infection. If genetic information is transferred to the host during gestation, then we'd be dealing with another situation entirely. And I can't even begin to speculate about the chances of survival if that's the case."

"You're suggesting that infection could leave some kind of residual genetic imprint?" Eleanor asked while Suki stood in stunned silence.

"We simply don't know," was all Kalinda could think to say. But after a few moments, she extended the bottle of antacids and added, "Would you mind sharing these with me? I'd hate to have to open another bottle just because I talked myself into needing some."

"Physician, heal thy self," Suki quipped as she removed the cap and held the bottle so Kalinda could take some its contents.

"It was very nice finally meeting you," Eleanor said as she accepted the bottle from Suki. "But I guess we'd better go see what kind of trouble Tan has gotten into."

"Likewise," Kalinda replied. "If you'll hit me on the intercom when you're ready to go to dinner, I'll meet you in the mess hall."

"We'll bring dessert," said Suki jokingly, jostling the bottle in Eleanor's hand.

Although she had phrased it as a jest, Eleanor really was worried about Tan's latest experiment. Leaving the Centaur's medical wing, she and Suki took the most direct route back to exobiology. Since they had elected to go early, she was not surprised to find that Tan had left for lunch. In actuality, she considered it fortuitous since it gave her a chance to surreptitiously check on the progress of his project. She was astonished by the rate at which the assorted clones were growing. There were now four more test tubes that each held abominable occupants. And a trembling glance revealed that the view into the main containment area had become increasingly alarming; although still juveniles, each of the Alien Queens were now fully formed.

Suki, also curious to learn what Tan was up to, had followed her over to the genetics workstation and asked, "Can you tell the types of egg cells he used to start the clones?"

Making use of the fact that Tan's security clearance did not supercede hers, Eleanor referenced the samples that had been used to initiate each inception. Standing slightly to the side, Suki could see the details as they scrolled across the screen. Neither of the two women were the least surprised to find that phyla had formed the basis of his selections. One of the egg cells had come from a bird. One had come from a reptile. One had come from a fish. And one had come from a mammal.

"It doesn't seem so insidious," Suki observed. "And I can see he was taking the size of the specimen into account, since it would obviously have to be big enough to serve as a host. Can you see the exact samples he used?"

"Yup," Eleanor answered, seeming to strum the keyboard. "The retile was a komodo dragon."

"Wow, does that mean the clone is automatically placed on the endangered species list?" Suki joked.

"No, it means we are if it gets loose!" Eleanor affectedly exclaimed. "The fish was a sailfish. Hmm, I'm surprised he didn't choose the shark. He must have wanted to see if it would copy the pointy nose."

"If it still had the telescopic jaws, I suppose it would have to somehow compensate," Suki commented. "I guess I can see why he selected such a challenge."

"The big bird was a condor. No surprise there, except that he is kind of sticking with endangered species," Eleanor observed.

"I'll bet you the mammal is a primate, probably one of the great apes," Suki excitedly said. Since she was looking at Eleanor, she saw the smile fall from her supervisor's face before she saw the display on the screen.

"That was incredibly close," Eleanor despondently said. "And I'm much sorrier than I can say that I have to disappoint you, but the final selection was human. It does not give any indication of the donor. I can only hope she's already deceased. I certainly would not want to live with the knowledge of having helped to bring about something like this."

"Why would he do this?" Suki demandingly asked.

"He's examining worst case scenarios of what would happen if these things ever got loose on Earth or in an area inhabited by humans," Eleanor answered, desperately trying to keep calm and not add her own to her assistant's obvious anxiety. "It's his job."

"That's perfectly insane!" Suki angrily exclaimed. "I thought that's just what we were trying to keep from happening! That's like the company saying we're all expected to fail! What an incredible confidence booster! I hope you're not actually in favor of this lunacy, are you?"

"No, I'm not arguing with you," Eleanor soothingly said. "I'm just giving you what I'm sure would be Emilio's answer. His electronic authorization is right there at the bottom of the lab order."

"You know, at least as I understand it, he was originally hoping we'd come up with a single specimen to keep in the containment area," Suki thoughtfully said. "Now we've just gone from having four Alien Queens to eight of them. Not only is that way beyond double indemnity, but I think we're about to inadvertently determine something else."

"What's that?" Eleanor asked, no longer able to follow her infuriated assistant's train of thought.

"Whether or not Alien Queens from completely different types of hosts can coexist in close quarters," Suki answered.

"That's why we're keeping them in separate pens in the containment area," Tan said as he came walking in at that moment. "We don't want to end up having to play referee."

"It remains to be seen if we can even be successful at playing zookeeper," Suki said with a sneer. "If these ladies decide they don't like each other, I doubt if bars of tungsten steel will be enough to keep them from an incredibly caustic confrontation."

Before Tan could respond, Eleanor added, "If exposure to space doesn't deter them from fighting with each other, we would have to jettison the compartment and lose all the specimens over one simple mistake."

"Exposure to space is hardly our only deterrent," Tan finally found the opportunity to answer. And then, turning to Eleanor, he said, "But I'm glad to see you showing concern over the possible loss of all our work. The director seems to think you're opposed to this project. But I believe he's just overreacting to someone as strong willed as he is."

"Someone has to keep him honest," Eleanor sincerely responded. "We're simply too far away from the company's oversight committee. As vital as this project is, he needs to be operating with the idea that his accountability is more immediate than some room full of stuffed shirts that's dozens of light years away. By questioning the qualifications of his decisions, I'm just forcing them to be more circumspect."

"Then we actually are on the same page," Tan replied, showing astonishment and a new sense of respect for his colleague. "As I suspected, he's misjudged you."

That worked. And he didn't even take issue that you're sitting at his workstation and checking on what he's been up to. Probably assumes it's nothing more than professional curiosity. If Suki can be satisfied with being his sole aggressor, I may be able to maintain the image of a supporter. Since he's really accountable only to Emilio, it's the only way I can ensure that I stay inside their loop. He'll confide in me as long as he considers me a collaborator, even if it's precisely the type of deceitful conduct I abhor in others. But with the survival of our species possibly at stake, isn't this that extraordinary case where the ends actually justify the means? How did it come to this?

"An intergalactic drive, you say?" Captain Mikhail Kaminski disbelievingly asked as he looked across the table at Emilio and Stanford who were seated on either side of him.

He had thought it strange when the director insisted on the extravagantly sumptuous meal being served in the relative seclusion of the otherwise unoccupied meeting room. It was becoming obvious why the catered dinner was being conducted with such secrecy.

"We don't yet understand how it works," Emilio explained. "But we're certain it does. Their navigational system quite clearly indicates their origin in Leo 1. If Endicott's team is successful, we may soon have a downsized version of their ship. It'll have to be tested."

"Don't imagine that I'm not intrigued," Kaminski said, "but I'd hardly consider myself qualified to captain such a craft if that's what you're really asking."

"I'm sorry, but control of the craft will have to be carried out by the Artificials," Emilio answered. "They're the only ones capable of interfacing with its technology."

"Then what is it you want from me?" asked Kaminski in confusion.

"Beyond having the Centaur record the shakedown once the ship is ready, there is the matter of its crew," Emilio answered, "all of whom will have to come from your ship."

Inadvertently raising his eyebrows, Kaminski asked, "Whom did you have in mind?"

"Because they'd remain unaffected in explosive decompression situations, I know its standard procedure for a vessel of this size to keep a compliment of Artificials onboard," Emilio carefully replied. "But since they'd be providing our only access to the alien ship's technology, I'd prefer to have all eight of them. In addition I'll also need Stanford, to keep us in contact, and most of the heads of the departments that I created for this mission."

"I'm not very happy about losing all eight Artificials, but what about all the," Kaminski paused and searched for the right word before finally concluding, "precious cargo?"

"Once their nutritional requirements have been discovered," Emilio replied, "it should be simple to set up the containment bay for transport by a commercial towing vehicle."

"Since I'm assuming you're going to want all the exobiologists to be aboard the alien ship," Kaminski replied, "I have to take steps to safeguard my remaining crew. Therefore I can't let you have all of them and all the Artificials until such a transfer has taken place. With neither the exobiologists nor the Artificials, we'd have no chance at all of controlling an outbreak. I hope you know that you're flirting with a very serious breach of protocol."

"The construction of the intergalactic ship may happen very quickly, but it could take quite a considerable amount of time for the Artificials to sufficiently acquaint themselves with its controls to undertake any actual mission," Emilio answered. "By then, the towing vehicle should be well underway. I've no intention of putting your crew in a compromised situation. I'll see that you and those concerned are compensated for the inconvenience."

"I am not particularly happy about losing my best telemetry expert either," Kaminski pretended to complain as he refilled his plate, "but I don't want it to sound as if I'm overly antagonistic."

"I very much appreciate that," said Emilio, smiling. "There's somebody aboard who's already appointed herself the task of making up for anyone with any shortcomings in the area of antagonism."

With the consoles already removed, extraction of the control room went much more quickly than either Colin or Marco had imagined. After carefully reconnecting the devices to the transported housing, the two humans and most of the team of Artificials began the business of assembling the rest of the ship. Because of his experience in interfacing with the alien technology, since they hoped the reestablished circuits would now begin to give up their secrets, Poole plugged back in and tried to navigate the newly restored network.

Like Eleanor, Colin had a counterpart who had kept their engineering team on target while he was otherwise occupied; something that had surprisingly turned into a repeated requirement. Savvy Stevens found her supervisor as he was exiting the newly renovated central section of the proposed spaceship. However, for some reason, he seemed rather reluctant to receive her recommendations for how to accomplish its completion.

"I'm sure you know that, because of our exhaustive analysis, the computer was able to factor the usable fragments into a set number of possible designs. The central section was inherent to most of these, which is why you so wisely chose to start with that critical core structure," she said, prefacing the presentation of her plan. "If we want to maximize our options for crew quarters and areas for the normal amenities, I believe this particular configuration will best serve our purposes. If you'd like to go ahead and sign off on it, I'd be in a much better position to oversee its completion if you're unexpectedly called away again."

"At the risk of sounding like I practice appeasement," Colin carefully countered, "I'm not sure what Emilio ultimately has in mind. Your preferred configuration shares no small number of traits in common with several others. Until I'm sure of his expectations, I'd just as soon keep our options open."

"I thought I was maximizing our options and that you had the final call when it came to the construction," Savvy said with confusion.

"Just give me a little time on this," Colin patiently replied. "Even though he's head of the bio-weapons division and this is really outside his realm, we are here at his pleasure and he's the senior executive on site. The project is simply too important. I need to make certain that his expectations are at least addressed, whether they're worked into the final configuration or not."

Nearly dropping her dicta-screen as she shrugged, Savvy said, "Okay, it's your call."

As she turned away, Colin was unaware that his conversation with Savvy had been overheard by anyone until Marco cleared his throat and jokingly said, "Getting cozy with the director are we? And here I had you figured as a free thinker. Guess there's no harm in making the most of an opportunity for upward mobility though."

Colin had to struggle not to show his embarrassment as he replied, "Every once in a while I have to think about that retirement package. And if we play this right, we could be set for life."

"And I thought you were just in it for the science," Marco teasingly said, "and maybe the women."

Before Colin could comment, Poole unexpectedly appeared. The android leapt over a substantial stack of debris in his hurry to reach the two researchers. Although Artificial, he looked nothing less than alarmed.

"They know we're here!" he expressively said.

"What?" Marco asked in response. "Who knows we're where?"

"The Architects," Poole replied.

"You've made contact with the Architects?" Colin excitedly asked.

"No," Poole surprisingly answered.

"What are you trying to tell us?" Marco inquired, desperately trying to level his voice.

Turning to Colin, Poole asked, "Do you remember when you asked if I could zoom in on a specific sector of the navigational image?"

"Y-Y-Yes," Colin answered, inadvertently stammering as he tried to follow the line of thought.

"I don't know why, but it occurred to me to try zooming out," Poole continued. "I can't explain what I discovered, but the navigational image shows the location of every human habitation in the Milky Way galaxy."

After several seconds of stunned silence, Marco breathlessly asked, "How in the hell could that be?"

When no conjecture was offered, Colin asked, "Have you had any other success?"

"I haven't completely deciphered the encoding of the entries," he replied, "but I think I've gained access to their flight log. I may not be far from determining the circumstances of their arrival in our galaxy."

"I'm impressed," Marco said, sounding extremely serious. "Keep at it. We may know everything we need by the time our scaled-down ship is ready for its maiden voyage."

Poole appeared appreciably pleased by the paying of this compliment. If his almost human reaction surprised Marco as much as it did Colin, the synthetics expert managed not to show it.

"Thank you. I will resume my work right now," Poole very happily replied, obviously brightening. He then turned and moved away at superhuman speed, disappearing back into the shell of the ship.

After the android had been gone for a few moments, Colin asked, "Are you going to tell me that was normal behavior for an Artificial?"

Exactly imitating his tone, Marco asked in reply, "Are you going to tell me how in the world the Architects could have the current extent of humanity's expansion into space in a navigational database that may have been here for millennia?"

"I've been thinking that, when they discovered what was happening to them, and in order to keep from contaminating their people, they'd sent themselves to another galaxy and something like a million years into the future," Colin eventually replied after pausing perceptibly. "But I can't reconcile that with them having any contemporary knowledge of humankind, unless they'd made such a time trip before; in which case they'd have been knowingly endangering us."

"I agree," Marco concurred. "And I don't know how to answer your question either."

The two scientists spent the rest of their shift in endless debates about hypothetical possibilities, each of which finally failed to explain either the knowledge of the Architects or the odd behavior of the Artificials. Toward the end of the shift, Vladimir suggested that the two men return to the Centaur in order to sleep. He seemed quite concerned that the quantum disturbances, which occurred every time a new piece of the ship was fused into place, would prevent them from resting sufficiently. They gladly agreed and summoned a shuttle.

Eleanor awoke with the expectation of breaking fast with Colin before he returned to LV-426. Many of the other researchers were also taking advantage of the opportunity for a communal meal before going about their business. Tan arrived late and informed them that the clones were already of sufficient size to transfer into the main containment area. Due to not having been aboard during the phase of operation to which he was referring, Marco and Colin requested clarification.

Eleanor could read Colin well enough now to appreciate how much restraint he was employing as he sat and silently listened to the lengthy explanation. Marco's expression however was impossible for her interpret.

"Are you certain they'll all be able to get along?" the synthetics expert finally asked.

"They are in separate enclosures within the main containment area," Tan answered, "so they'll have little opportunity for interaction. And they're all essentially from the same species anyway."

"Yes, but even I know that confinement can cause some animals to act abnormally," Marco countered. "It's impossible for them to estimate their resources in such an artificial environment, which can create competition where none would normally exist."

"We've already determined the nutritional requirements for the other Alien Queens," Tan replied. "Those for the clones should be close to theirs, even if they also somewhat reflect the phyla that were used as hosts. As long as they're not lacking for anything, I'm optimistic that no kind of competition will occur."

"Not that I want to question your conclusion," interjected Colin, finally electing to say something. "But you're a genetics expert. You're not a diplomat. Or were you planning to run for office?"

That rhetorical question elicited some snickers. Though the joke was at his expense, even Tan could not suppress a smile. Emilio, entering the mess hall at that moment, was reassured to find the scientists in such presumably high spirits. Slipping in and out of the line until he had filled his tray, he headed towards the clusters of tables they occupied.

Kicking a chair out to receive him, Eleanor said, "And speaking of diplomats."

Emilio shot her a sidelong glance as he slid into the seat. Although he was uncertain of the inference, he decided not to question it when others seemed to find it amusing. He had learned to accept a little well-meaning insubordination if it improved moral. This was far from the kind of caustic comment he had anticipated from Eleanor anyway, so it was a welcome relief. He had no way of knowing that she was merely modifying her manner for the sake of her association with Tan.

Marco and Colin asked Emilio if they could stay until after the transfer of the clones, since they still had yet to see the occupied containment area. The director gladly granted their request. Therefore after breakfast was finally finished, almost everyone followed the exobiology team back to their section of the immense spaceship. But after observing the horrendous monsters than now lurked in its vacuum encapsulated portion, most of them immediately regretted having already eaten.

Operating the automation in order to accomplish their transfer, Tan maneuvered the clones into the containment area and their respective cages. At the end of the procedure the other four cages were full. Almost everybody looked on with disgust at the frightening display. However, there was one inconsistency that was instantly obvious to them all.

"Wait a minute," Marco objected. "I thought there were four originals and four clones that had each been grown from a different terrestrial host. Three of the additions all look different from both the originals and each other. But there're actually five originals aren't there?"

Indeed, it was impossible to differentiate one of the four clones from the other Alien Queens already in the enclosure. Several of the additions also began to obviously draw disapproval from the original occupants. The four more mature specimens transformed from simply sinister to openly aggressive. They roared, hissed, and raised their tails into attack positions as they regarded the three dissimilar newcomers. Oddly, one of the four additions was reacting in the same way, and all were aiming their animosity at the three that were unlike the others.

Before anyone could ask, Tan said, "The clone that looks like the four originals was derived from a human egg cell."

"What?" Emilio asked, aghast. "How can that be?"

"There are structural similarities between the Architects and us," Suki answered. "In terms of anatomy, we're almost unimaginably analogous."

"But why is it joining with the originals in ganging up against the other three?" Emilio demanded. "And why are they letting it?"

"The other three represent what we would class as lower life forms. Perhaps they're aware in some way of the distinction," Eleanor answered. "It might be that the position in the food chain of the host organism determines its placement in the societal structure of the resultant hybrid. We don't really know the extent to which the embryo copies its host. There probably are significant differences between the addition and the originals, but not anything we could observe with the untrained eye."

"I'm sorry to bring this up, but I guess someone's got to say it," Colin cautiously said. "The indications are that the Architects can travel through time. I suppose it's possible…"

Emilio suddenly stepped in front of Colin, raising his finger in the engineer's startled face as he sternly said, "Don't even go there!"

Even though almost everybody else was distracted by the disagreement, concerning which his friend was at the center, Marco's attention had somehow remained focused on the activity in the containment area. He could not tell if she had injured herself in order to produce the acidic spray, but one of the original Alien Queens was already dissolving the barrier between herself and the objects of her feral ferocity.

"Hey! You guys!" he frantically exclaimed.

Turning his attention back to the outburst in the bay, Tan seized the nearby controls, saying, "I'm releasing cryogenic spray in front of area three, and all of the floor plates are now electrically charged. She's not going anywhere."

With the obstructions disintegrated, the dreadnaught lunged into the direction of her intended victim. But the moment she took her first step outside the cage, she screamed in electrocuted agony. And before she could even think about attempting to leap across the excruciating distance instead, she was struck by plume of cryogenic spray that sent her sprawling back into the center of her steel-reinforced enclosure. But the respite was unbelievably brief.

Encouraged by her actions, her cellmates also committed acts of self-mutilation and used the ensuing acid to emancipate themselves. They too were temporarily thwarted by the charged deck plates, but Tan could not deploy the cryogenic spray quickly enough to make them retreat. In moments, several were menacingly situated on top of their cages.

"I could electrify their cages, but I'm afraid that would only make them go ahead and jump. And I doubt if explosive decompression could possibly improve this situation," Tan anxiously announced. "I've electrified all the cages they're trying to get to, but they won't know that until they're already on top of them. Hopefully, they'll turn and retreat."

Tan was sending intermittent bursts of cryogenic spray into the air through which the assailants would have to spring in order to reach their targets. But it was just too much to keep track of. One of the perched predators managed to time her leap so it was between the bursts of spray. She screamed as she alighted on top of her electrified objective. She stabbed into the cage below her with her spear-like tail as she trashed about in anguish. She did not elect to abandon her painful perch until she heard the death screams of her prey. Through an aperture that he opened in the floor after the assassin's departure, Tan jettisoned the cage before the acid could cause explosive decompression in the bay.

Clumsily crashing onto the top of her cage, a necessary if embarrassing result of her injuries, she then surprised her human spectators even further by roaring with vehement viciousness at the other similarly situated parasitoids. Strangely, their response was not reciprocal, but one that seemed to suggest obeisance.

"What's she doing?" Emilio asked.

"Alpha female," Eleanor replied. "She's establishing the pecking order. We're going to have to watch that one. She just successfully installed herself as the ringleader."

"Why does she look smaller than the others?" Colin inquired, confused.

"She's the clone, the human hybrid," Tan answered with astonishment as he looked at the cage number. "They're bigger only because they're slightly older than her. But the young blood took the trophy."

"That's rather like the Architects bowing down to humanity, isn't it?" Marco asked.

"Maybe our first four specimens aren't as pure as we've presumed," Eleanor replied. "The Architects are allegedly ancient, and it seems they've been involved in altering their genetic structures for generations. Maybe that makes them inferior as hosts in some way that makes sense only to the parasitoids."

"Maybe," Tan tentatively agreed, not sounding completely convinced.

"Which clone did we lose?" Suki asked.

"The reptile hybrid," Tan nonchalantly answered. "Fortunately, it was by far the least interesting of the lot. The fish hybrid is essentially amphibious, able to breathe both liquid and air. The bird hybrid however is the one I would have the most trouble controlling if it got out. But now that the retile hybrid has been eliminated, they all seem to have calmed down. Perhaps the originals are just now recognizing the potential structural advantages of the remaining clones."

"How are you going to get them back into their cages?" Emilio asked.

"One of their main nutritional requirements is water," Tan replied, "which is probably why the one on the Nostromo sought out the bay where the equipment was washed. He used it to bulk up. They'll have to go back inside their cages in order to drink. Although I can't fix the damage to the cage doors, I can simply replace them. And it will all be done with automation. Although I know it looked like it was touch and go for awhile there, this was an important learning experience for them. They now know that escaping from their cages means pain, not freedom. If they're as intelligent as we think, they may choose to simply accept their situation rather than risk exposure to additional deterrents. "

"If you hadn't acted so quickly in ejecting that cage, they'd have all gotten a taste of space," Suki observed.

"I'm saving that for the next lesson, if there even is one," Tan replied with a grin.

"Somehow I don't think they're going to just give up," Emilio said. "And please don't think I wasn't impressed by your performance, but I think we should have an Artificial on the controls. Response time could be very critical if they do decide to try again."

You were wrong, grandmother. You thought the parasitoids didn't prey upon or take advantage of one another. But they even advance through assassination, just like some people I know. Maybe that's how the human hybrid was able to establish herself as their leader, because we're the only other species vicious enough to give them a run for their money!

Chapter 6

Thinking outside the Box

None of the Alien Queens tolerated the replacing of their cage doors. Emulating the example of their newly established leader, they each injured themselves just adequately enough to emit the acid required to compromise their confinement. Because doing so did not necessitate actual contact with the bars of their most immediate boundary, there was no advantage in electrifying them. Their ability to slice their skin with their claws and then turn and fling the acid in the blink of an eye made it impossible to interrupt this unwanted activity with a response of cryogenic spray. And even though they were always pointedly punished after the fact, they chose to endure the discipline and repeat their performance each time the door was replaced. Tan feared that punitively depriving them of provisions would only complicate matters. Consequently, although on a small scale, the parasitoids had accomplished a type of triumph. Their cages could not be secured.

Because even she imitated the vandalism of the matriarch, the bird hybrid had soon made a number of flights within the walls of the spacious compartment. Since electrifying the cages effectively prevented her from finding any footing outside her assigned abode, Tan thought it altogether unnecessary to use the cryogenic spray to force her from flight. He considered using it to drive her to the deck; but because it was necessary to keep the floor electrified, and she might seek shelter on top of one of the other cages, he decided it was too dangerous to do so. They still had not determined if she was now accepted by the other parasitoids. He could end up unintentionally driving her to her death. She could unexpectedly lunge through the hole in her cage door faster than the reflexes of even an Artificial could respond, so the best way to get her back into her cage was to not give her any alternative landing locations.

Although nobody was particularly happy to have the bird hybrid flying freely about in the containment area, their ability to see its airborne operation had already revealed that it bore some resemblance to a certain type of pterosaur, a prehistoric predator of Earth's ancient skies. But after several days, and before Emilio could insist that some other way be found to prevent its flight, the Alien Queens each started to develop an ovipositor. As a result, the bird hybrid voluntarily withdrew to the confines of its spacious cage and, like its half-sisters, began the business of laying eggs. Tan and his newly assigned assistant were thus spared from having to produce some imaginative means of keeping the hybrid grounded.

Because strength was necessary when it came to assembling the new ship, and the female Artificials were not fashioned to be as strong as their male counterparts, Sangria was assisting Tan while Chalice was helping Poole figure out the functions of all its alien equipment. Being a leader in his field and therefore quite accustomed to space flight, the geneticist had encountered no small number of Artificials in the course of his travels. But none of them had been quite as comely or unexpectedly personable as his superhuman assistant. In his personal log he began to use the expression "another episode of beauty and the beasts" to describe his shifts in the exobiology lab.

Even though he was astounded at having such feelings of affinity for an Artificial, he was reassured by the degree to which the attraction seemed reciprocated. As a scientist he tried to keep up with all the latest advances, even outside his area of discipline, so he was aware that some almost incomprehensible breakthroughs had recently happened in the field of cyber-technology. Those innovations did not seem to be quite consistent with the conduct he had come to appreciatively expect from Sangria. But his recollection with regards to those articles was rather indistinct. For the sake of such a flattering friendship, he chose to presuppose that her inconceivably vibrant personality could be explained so simply.

At Eleanor's instruction, the carcass of the reptilian hybrid had been recovered. She knew that an autopsy of its remains represented their best chance of understanding how the elements of its freakish physiology worked together to produce the ultimate predator. Considering its incredibly fast reflexes, she wondered if she would find the same type of fibers in its central nervous system that they had discovered in the derelict. Even though there was nothing to suggest that it was in any way an Artificial, the telescopic jaws and silicon-incorporating exoskeleton alluded to some mimicry of the mechanic in the way it was engineered. And only an examination of something not already fossilized would be able to answer her most consternating questions.

Even though there was every reason to think that its acid had oxidized at death and made safe its inspection, Eleanor and Suki nevertheless took every possible precaution before making the initial incision. Its exposure to space had already relieved their trophy of its eyes and most of its bodily fluids. But they found little evidence of either scorching by cosmic radiation or frostbite from its evacuation into the void. Its outlandishly textured skin was as resilient as it was supple, so much so that they ultimately had to use a laser-scalpel in order to start the dissection.

Considering the terrestrial source of the cell that had been used as its host, the two women were expecting to encounter some recognizable aspects. But it quickly became clear that much of its anatomy was exceptionally atypical. Because its circulatory system was designed to accommodate something besides blood, it shared little similarity with its earthly equivalent. Its lymphatic system was also extremely unusual. Its structural rigidity was reinforced by an endoskeleton that also incorporated metabolized metals. And even though there were organs that could be easily identified, they were very seldom situated in their expected places. There were also a number of organs whose functions, Eleanor was frustrated to realize, would only be understood after exhaustive investigation.

In order to prevent the decomposition of their specimen, she and Suki had to work in environmental suits in a section of the ship that was cooled by space and from which the air was evacuated. It made their tremendously demanding shifts seem much longer than they actually were. Eleanor was heartened only by the anticipation of spending time with Colin at the end of each work day.

After spending only a couple of sleep-shifts onboard the Centaur, Marco surprisingly took to staying on the planetoid and sleeping in a shuttle. Colin informed Eleanor that the synthetics expert had been seeing a lot of Savvy. They had both already noticed the way Suki now seemed to always be seated beside Jamul during dinner, and that she and the stellar cartographer had also started leaving the mess hall together. The destination was not known.

"I've wanted to have a private conversation with Jamul, but it looks like Suki's simply going to have to be part of it," Eleanor pensively observed as she and Colin watched the couple exit the mess hall together again, leaving them at the table alone.

"Really?" queried Colin. "What's the subject?"

"The mind of God," Eleanor answered.

"Not exactly one of your lighter topics," he quipped. "What brought this on?"

"Something he said in the bay that day you realized the navigational system and the intergalactic drive were the same thing," Eleanor answered. "If I'm remembering right, he said it was almost like the Architects had connected their minds to the consciousness of the continuum itself."

"Ergo: the mind of God," Colin correctly concluded. "I recall his comment now. What are you hoping to discover?"

"We are about to attempt the use of a technology that is beyond our understanding," Eleanor replied. She then paused before finally finishing, "I'm wondering whether special licensing might be required."

"I think I see where you're going with this," Colin carefully responded. "And I am not contradicting you, although I'm fairly certain Emilio would. But I should perhaps point out that we use technology all the time without actually understanding it. Even as engineers, we rely on principles without comprehending their causes. When we talk about this thing we call the continuum, we are really only advocating an idea. We call gravity a curving of that continuum, caused by mass, but we've never verified its fabric. We don't even know why the gravitational constant is constant. Or consider quantum mechanics; we use it in space travel all the time, but it's really only an application of quantum theory, which is as the name suggests only a theory. There're major institutions where hypersleep and flight through hyperspace are both being constantly studied. We rely on them, but we certainly don't understand them."

"Okay, I'll concede that point. But won't you also concede that this is an exceptional situation?" Eleanor asked.

"I would even be willing to concede that what we have here is the very definition of an exceptional situation," Colin jokingly agreed. "And not that I'd hold it against you, but have you gone religious on me?"

"Maybe I've always been religious and you haven't figured it out," Eleanor replied.

"Talk to me," Colin encouragingly said.

"If my great grandmother had been able to enforce the company's quarantine policy, the parasitoid would never have gotten on the Nostromo," Eleanor explained. "But they'd put an android aboard to ensure the organism's return. Nevertheless, she survived when everyone else died. The odds against that have to be astronomical. Under pressure from the company, she returned to LV-426 as the consultant to a military mission. Impossibly, she was the only member of the Sulaco's crew to escape uninjured. And when everyone else aboard died, she was the only one to reach the surface of Fury 161 alive. She didn't know she was infected until she'd been there for several days. During this time, the other arachnid that also escaped with the cryotubes had placed its embryo inside a dog. There were consequently two chances for the company to recover an organism. But she saw to it that they didn't, even though it was the last thing she did while she was dying. I see no way to explain something like that without involving some kind of outside intervention."

"I'll have to admit that the series of events you've described certainly sounds awfully impossible," Colin concurred.

Seeing that she had actually succeeded in making an impression, she asked, "Have you considered our situation?"

"What do you mean?" he asked in reply.

"What were the odds that we were going to find the very thing they'd spent decades looking for almost immediately after the military prematurely abandoned this place?" she pointedly pressed. When he was unable to instantly answer, she continued, "They could easily have been the ones with the cargo bay full of alien eggs. If they'd only stuck it out just a little longer, they might've iced Weyland-Yutani right out of the equation. And then, we wouldn't be sitting here having this discussion, and you wouldn't be building a vessel that could defy the confines of the very universe."

"What was that last part?" he asked in confusion.

"Think outside the box, boyfriend!" she exclaimed. "What exactly is the range of your intergalactic vessel? If it can instantly traverse any distance and even travel through time itself, can't it take us utterly beyond the edge of the universe and to the very place where only the divine author of everything resides? Couldn't it maybe even take us back before the beginning?"

"My God," he absently responded as he abruptly realized what she was suggesting.

"That's what I'm talking about," she energetically agreed.

"So what you're saying is that, if in fact God exists, this ship might actually represent the way to go and see Him?" he asked with incredulity, carefully enunciating every word.

"Maybe," she quietly agreed. "I think it's at least a possibility worthy of some serious contemplation."

"I really don't want to sound agnostic, so please don't misinterpret what I'm about to mention," he replied, carefully prefacing his remark. "But even if their technology actually afforded them some kind of special fellowship with the Almighty, it certainly did not serve to save them from the most horrible of imaginable deaths. And I see no way to reconcile such a terrible tragedy with the idea of divine intervention."

"Unless they were actually targeted because of the special relationship," she replied, "and the identity of the agency responsible for the dreadful form of their demise is one of uttermost evil."

Completely avoiding her observation, he changed the subject by asking instead, "So did you want to try and catch up with Suki and Jamul before they disappear completely?"

Without any additional discussion, the couple quickly rose and yielded their strategic situation in one of the back corners of the immense mess hall. Turning into the passage through which Jamul and Suki had exited, they were disappointed to discover that there was no trace of the pair.

"Their quarters aren't along this route," Eleanor observed, "but exobiology is. Maybe Suki forgot something and doubled back to get it. Tan showed me a shortcut that I doubt if anyone else knows. We might be able to head them off."

"Since they took their leave us in the mess hall, that's sure going to look suspicious," he said. And then, shrugging in mid stride, he concluded, "But what the heck."

Making use of a doorway that was usually utilized only by technical crews; she led the way through a corridor that sliced across the width of that wing of the sprawling ship. They emerged very close to exobiology, but they could still see no sign of either Suki or her esteemed escort. With no other logical recourse, they went on into the lab. Tan was still there, despite the lateness of the hour. Sangria was with him but there was no echo of his apprehension in her expression, even though they were both observing what was happening in the containment area – or, rather, what was no longer happening.

Turning to Eleanor, the geneticist said, "I doubt if you'll be incredibly edified to learn that I now share some of the anxiety for which Emilio has made you famous. After all, we both know just how misreported those trepidations have been. But the most perilous part of our effort here has now been reached. They've all filled up the available space in their respective cages and they've been forced to stop laying eggs. What they need now is to find hosts for their embryos. If ever they were going to test our defenses again, that time would be now."

Although the moment certainly seemed inopportune, Colin's com-link chimed. After a quick conversation, he announced that Emilio had summoned him to the bridge. There was concern over the fact that he had yet to give approval to the intergalactic ship's final form, since the Artificials were about to reach an impasse in its construction. There could be no thought given to its outfitting or amenities until the dimensions of its compartments were determined. He sorrowfully understood that he would be able to delay no longer.

"I'm sorry," he said to his assembled shipmates, "but as the senior engineer, I've got to go make an executive decision."

Knowing that he had just completed his shift, Eleanor was understandably confused by such an unexpected development. She knew nothing of his decision to stall the ship's construction for as long as possible, since concern for her safety was the foremost of the reasons for his subterfuge. But there was no opportunity to ask for any explanation as he abruptly turned about and obediently headed for the bridge, leaving her with the troubled geneticist and his Artificial assistant.

Colin had no more than exited the compartment when Sangria, whose attention had remained on the containment area, evenly announced, "Something's happening."

Eleanor and Tan turned immediately to the display, but were reassured to see that it was only the bird hybrid deciding to separate herself from her now pointless ovipositor. It was not within anyone's ability to understand that she was actually acting in accordance with the hissed instructions of the Alpha female. After freeing herself with great difficulty from her reproductive sector, she hurled herself through the hole in the door of her cage and took to the air. As she circled, the other Alien Queens all detached themselves from their ovipositors as well. None of the observers were able to anticipate the peril, until the attack was already underway.

Conscious nearly from conception, the parasitoids recalled the direction from which they had been placed into their captivity. In short, they knew where the observers had to be. As the bird hybrid passed in front of the wall that separated exobiology from the bay, the Alien Queen, whose cage was situated directly across from that position, performed a seemingly impossible leap and collided with the hybrid in midair, splattering its acid all over the retaining wall. Since the bay was located inside a compartmentalized series of ramparts, each of which opened on outer space, explosive decompression was almost immediate.

The force of the evacuating atmosphere pulled each of the Alien Queens out of its respective cage, where inadvertent contact with the electrified floor only infuriated them further. And since they were all being pulled towards the highly localized perforations, it was inevitable that more conflict would caustically occur. In mere moments, eruptions of additional acid were splattered upon the already compromised partitions.

In order to seal off the air loss and repressurize, the first layer of bulkheads beyond the walls needed to slide down and forwards, and then lock into place against those that had already been breached. The first layer that reinforced the floor was designed to slide out and up. The containment area was built into the bottom backside of the ship, making it possible for such down and out adjustments. The lateral movements were supposed to make it possible for the first reinforcing layer to function even if it had also suffered some damage. There was a fixed superstructure upon which the entire assembly was situated. This superstructure incorporated the mechanization that mobilized the sliding bulkheads and made it possible to pass food, water, and other items into the containment area.

Turning to Sangria, Tan said, "I think they've had enough. Seal off and repressurize before they've burned through more than the first set of baffles."

Sangria tried to comply, but the bulkheads slid only slightly before the screams of an overexerted engine made it clear there was a problem. It was as if the sliding plates had encountered an obstruction. Since the areas into which they slid were nothing more than open space outside the ship, there should have been no possible way for this to happen. The system had been tested painstakingly and repeatedly and had never revealed such a problem. So far as Tan knew, the malfunction they were experiencing could not occur.

"What's wrong?" he emotionally demanded.

"I don't know," Sangria responded, sounding desperate. "It's almost like something's blocking the bulkheads."

"That can't happen," Eleanor resolutely objected, moving alongside the Artificial and looking with anxious incredulity at the clearly lit failure indicator on the control panel.

Glancing back at the situation in the containment area, they saw that the other Alien Queens had singled out and slaughtered the fish hybrid. The release of all the additional acid had caused a sizable gash to open in the bottom side of their spacious pen. And the overheating of the engine, which should have simply slid the plates into their new places, had interrupted the electricity flowing into the floor. Demonstrating their renowned facility for squeezing into areas that would seem inaccessible for something of such substantial size, the Alien Queens folded their formidable frames to compensate for the constriction and disappeared into the aperture.

Shouldering her way in front of the control panel with such force that she nearly sent Sangria sprawling, Eleanor used her open palm to strike the large red knob and activate the alarm she had hoped to never hear. As it shrieked in response, she put the intercom switch in the send position.

"Containment has been breached!" she rasped into the microphone. "The Aliens are outside the ship! Evacuate all areas around exobiology! Divert any incoming shuttles and lock down the bays!"

"How long can they survive exposure to space?" Sangria asked.

"We are about to find out the answer to that question," Eleanor replied. "The survivor of the Nostromo claimed that the one she blew out of her shuttle's airlock actually tried to get back inside the ship through a rocket tube, and she only finally got rid of it by igniting the engines."

"You've got to be kidding me," Tan disbelievingly blurted. "Nothing can survive in the vacuum of space for more than a few seconds."

"Not unless it was somehow engineered to do so," Eleanor coldly countered.

Any additional discussion was rudely interrupted by a very disturbing sound. Motion could be heard just beyond the bulkhead to their right. Even though it had not been used since the parasitoids were transferred into the containment area, there was nevertheless an airlock in that wall. It had been retracted from its connection to the containment area, so it opened on the vacuum of space by which the prison was surrounded. The purpose was to prevent any accidental access by the captive creatures. Nobody could have ever imagined that its exposure to that vacuous environment would actually afford the precise opportunity they had been trying so hard to prevent.

"It's in the airlock," Sangria alarmingly announced.

"No way," Tan very resolutely replied. "It couldn't possibly figure out how to operate the outer door."

But the telltale hiss of its operation betrayed the terrible truth of her assertion as she sadly said, "The airlock is cycling. It'll be on top of us in moments. Stay behind me. I'll try to protect you, even though we have no real weapons."

Without warning, my every nightmare has somehow just forced itself into the waking world. I'm about to be face to face with an Alien Queen, the most dreaded creature in the galaxy. And if it can operate the airlock, it can ostensibly get to the eggs. Grandmother, I think I'm about to join you in the most terrible death imaginable.

The airlock cycled. The Alien Queen emerged. As bravely as only an Artificial could, Sangria charged her soaring adversary. Spinning, she scarcely avoided the thrust of the spear-tipped tail, kicking it as it swept by, trying to throw the beast off balance. Spinning again, this time in the air as she back-flipped over the grasping claw, she delivered what would have been a lethal blow to anything less formidable. But it failed to do so much as break the skin on the side of the monster's horrible head. And unable to alter her landing location, there was no way for her to avoid being struck by the other claw. She bounced off the bulkhead, with a resounding thud, to collapse in a motionless heap on the floor.

Eleanor had only a moment to consider her options, but there was no opportunity to follow through. She and Tan, who was standing beside her, were both unceremoniously shoved out of the way by an irresistible force that unexpectedly came from behind them.

To her, it seemed as if the floor had risen up and hit her in the side of the head. She could make no sense of her surroundings until she discovered that Sangria, holding Tan under her other arm, was desperately dragging the two of them toward the locker where the frozen fossils were kept. From her exceptionally disadvantaged perspective, Eleanor could not see what was behind them; but she could hear the telltale sound of acid eating its way through the floor of the exobiology lab. Its smell was assaulting all that was left of her sensibilities.

As she gained the entry to the freezer's airlock, Sangria said, "I need you both to put on environmental suits. Exobiology could lose its atmosphere at any moment."

Since Eleanor was injured, it was necessary for Sangria to extend assistance only to her; although the exobiologist got the impression that the Artificial really wanted to assist Tan. With the suits finally fastened, Sangria inexpertly propelled the pair into the freezing confines of the chamber beyond.

Turning and looking over the shoulder of their implausible savior, but seeing no sign of pursuit, Eleanor asked, "Where is she?"

"If you're referring to the Alien Queen, she's been diced into caustic cubes," Sangria answered. "All that remains of her is either several decks below us or maybe outside the ship by now."

"Diced into caustic cubes?" Tan incredulously echoed while Eleanor stood there with her mouth hanging open. "How?"

"I'm sorry. I was only able to detect a brief distortion in the spectral field, although I'd swear I caught a glimpse of something that looked like a metal blade," Sangria hesitantly said. "The Alien Queen was disappearing in pieces through the floor before I understood what was happening."

Suddenly switching subjects, Tan sounded close to tears as he sorrowfully admitted, "I thought you'd been killed."

"I was briefly in a state that you would call unconsciousness," Sangria smilingly said in reply. "Basically, I had to reboot."

"Where's the thing that killed the Alien Queen?" Eleanor asked, edging her way into their conversation.

"I don't know," Sangria said, sounding apprehensive. "I don't even know why it didn't challenge me when I went to rescue you. It must've been inside the lab with us the entire time, so I doubt if it's gone very far."

Electing to use the intercom, since her com-link was with her inside the suit, Eleanor said, "The Alien Queen in exobiology has been neutralized, but the lab has probably lost pressure. We're in the freezer unit and we're awaiting rescue."

"Copy that," said a voice that she recognized as Stanford's. "I've confirmed your loss of pressure, which also affected every deck below yours. Your evacuation order saved a lot of lives. Be advised that the environmental suits weren't designed to endure complete depressurization. Stay where you are. Colin is on his way to you with a rescue team right now."

"Understood, thanks," Eleanor politely replied. She then asked, "Have you been able to track the other Alien Queens?"

"They're gone," Stanford answered. "Some of the Artificials were up here. They went out in shuttles to intercept them. All they found were some etchings on the outer hall. We assume they were trying to burn their way back in with their acid, but they didn't manage to even pierce the hull of the ship. And the Artificials can find no trace of what happened to them. Hell, it's like they all just disappeared."

"Copy that, thanks again," Eleanor replied as she signed off. Turning to Sangria, she asked, "Can you calculate any probabilities with regards to this new predator? Where did it come from? What's it doing here?"

"It must somehow be associated with the Architects," she cautiously responded, "but without additional information I simply cannot expect to successfully collate a projection."

Their environmental suits were having trouble keeping out the cold by the time Colin and his repair team finally reached the freezer a couple of hours later. The unexplainable absence of the Alien Queens had been established by an extensive ship-wide search, of which he informed them; and then, despite the fact that they knew Emilio was impatiently waiting for him to shed light on the cause of the malfunction with which the fiasco began, Colin took the time to escort Eleanor to the infirmary before starting his investigation.

Taking his leave of her there, he then had Duff take him outside the ship in a shuttle where he examined the assembly that surrounded exobiology's containment area. Once he had completed his inspection, he returned with his findings to the same meeting room where he had first met Eleanor. Emilio had ordered all the department heads together for the purpose of discussing their expensive misadventure.

"From what Tan tells me, and both Eleanor and Sangria support his story, the plates that are supposed to slide over and reconfigure the containment area wouldn't move," he said as Colin came walking in. "That assembly was extensively tested. And besides that, there's nothing outside that area of the ship to cause the kind of interference that they've described. What in the hell went wrong?"

Striding to the plasma screen that was situated across from the viewing portal, Colin accessed the shuttle's recording system and said, "Duff can confirm what you're about to see. The entire bottom of the mobile bulkhead looks like it did battle with a blowtorch. I'm unable to identify the energy that caused this kind of damage. It runs all along the end of the plate, which is itself as long as the containment bay. That being the case, whatever it was up against must've been immense, something at least the size of a small ship."

"You don't think we'd have noticed something tucked right up under us?" the captain incredulously asked. "We've got shuttles running back and forth all day long. That area is easily visible to every pilot on approach. I'd say it looks almost like we were fired on!"

"The melting isn't what caused the malfunction," Colin countered. "Once we finished our inspection, I had a member of the repair team try the control in exobiology. It worked. That bay is now sealed. Repairing the deck plates that were eaten through with acid was the hard part. I sent a sample of the damaged bulkhead to metallurgy. Perhaps they'll be able to tell us something useful. I can only assume their ship was as undetectable as the member of its crew in exobiology. As for where it's gone, I don't know. But I suspect they have the missing Alien Queens as well."

"The kind of cloaking technology you're talking about doesn't exit!" Emilio countered. "If it did, we'd be the ones selling it to the military!"

"Then what exactly is it that killed the Alien Queen in exobiology?" Jamul asked.

"It's one thing to camouflage a single soldier, especially in an area where everyone's attention is fixed on a particular place," Emilio answered. "But to obfuscate an entire ship to such an extent that it could sidle up alongside something with sensors as state-of-the-art as the Centaur's is insane! There must be a better explanation!"

"There is another player in this game," Poole definitively stated, seeming to Eleanor as if he almost relished the opportunity to contradict the director. "The evidence does not support any other conclusion. If we'd been fired on, we would've known it; and there's no way another ship could've even gotten close enough to attack us without the technology you're so eager to dismiss. Even if it'd used a rocket pack and entered through a shuttle bay, the alien assassin still infiltrated one of the most secure areas on the entire ship. It was absolutely invisible. Sangria downloaded her spectral records to the rest of us."

"We haven't lost everything," Tan interjected before Emilio could retaliate. "Since we now have cages full of eggs, we don't even really need the Alien Queens. We've already confirmed that exposure to space causes the formation of the force field that was described by the crewmember of the Nostromo. In fact, I'd like to request the opportunity to completely study it before we relinquish the eggs to the crew of the Somnambulist."

"The crew of what?" Marco asked.

I apparently haven't pumped Tan for info often enough.

"I've requested that one of our commercial towing vehicles be dispatched to haul the unreliable outboard bay back to the labs at corporate," Emilio evenly answered. "I am not going to take any more chances. The Centaur obviously has to stay here while Colin and his team complete the intergalactic prototype, and it'll also need to be on hand to monitor the test flight. But I need to know whether there's any way for us to possibly increase our scanning capacity and determine if your suspicions about invisible aliens are true."

Good job of getting out of that one and back on subject. But I wonder just what type of insidious plans you have for the crew of that commercial towing vehicle. It sounds like history is attempting to repeat itself.

"If we can assume their presence is verified, what would you hope to accomplish by establishing their exact location?" she pressed. And then, before he could even respond, she added, "Keep in mind that the one in exobiology actually saved lives, whether it was intentional or not. That's far from behaving in a way that could be considered hostile. But if we start trying to determine their precise position, we could make them feel threatened. And their technology is obviously beyond anything we have the ability to engage."

"Their interest in the Alien Queens might also imply an interest in the ship being built on LV-426," Emilio dismissively answered. "We need a way to determine whether they're present at its construction site; if not, then they probably won't interfere with its flight. We may even lose them when we transfer the bay, which is my hope. But if they are present, then we need to concern ourselves with trying to determine their intentions, especially if they stick around after the Somnambulist leaves with the bay."

"But shouldn't we be worried about the Somnambulist if they follow it?" she asked in reply.

"Didn't you just say their behavior is far from anything we could consider hostile?" he cunningly countered. "Moral relativism is quite unbecoming on you. Since it's attached to the Centaur by an assembly, the bay is actually part of the ship. But if that's what they're after, it'll be much more accessible when hauled behind the Somnambulist. If we have to lose those eggs, it's the only way to minimize any associated loss of life."

"Unless one of its crew makes the mortal mistake of checking on the cargo, in which case it will quickly become a death ship," she irately retorted.

"They'll be forbidden from have any contact with the cargo," Emilio sternly said. "The bay will remain sealed until it's opened in orbit at the corporate lab complex. Never again will the embryos enjoy an oxygenated atmosphere. And never again will anything except automation be used to examine them. If you should decide to accompany them, which is your prerogative, you need to know that you will only be allowed to study them from afar. Your greatest accomplishment as an exobiologist would probably be realized aboard the ship that's now under construction, and I'd planned to consign you to its crew; but taking into account how distrustful you are, perhaps you'd be happier headed towards home."

If you're planning what I suspect for the crew of the Somnambulist; then, if I take the bait and go along, you could get rid of me in more ways than one. If I simply suffered the same fate as all my shipmates, my death would look much less questionable. I'll bet you have an Artificial on that ship that's probably already been reprogrammed to assist them in meeting their demise. But even if I'm right, how can I hope to stop you? That'd require an accomplice who's deeper in the loop than Tan.

"I'll stay with the Centaur until it's time to transfer a crew to the new ship," she finally answered. Fighting to keep her tone even, despite having just been lambasted in front of all her friends, she added, "I'm sure you're right. I'd be making a career-killing mistake to forfeit the opportunity you've offered me. I really didn't mean to imply any wrongdoing on your part. You know just how personally I take responsibility for everyone's safety where this project is concerned."

Emilio pursed his lips and nodded before curtly replying, "Okay then."

"I've certainly detected no traces of any other ship in close proximity to the Centaur," Stanford said, diplomatically stepping into the awkward silence that followed. "But if their instrumentality is mostly intended to hide them from scanners at close range, it might be defeated by high definition scans of the surrounding star field. Those scans might reveal some distortion. If I could work with Jamul on this, we might be able to come up a way to precisely pinpoint their ship."

"Excellent idea," Emilio agreed as he turned and nodded his approval at Jamul.

And who would the director have gone through in order to transmit his instructions to the Somnambulist and its Artificial? Emilio, it's possible that you're going to deeply regret having engineered my association with Stanford. Since Colin now spends his work shifts off the ship, nobody will think twice if I start spending more time with the telemetry expert that I've known almost as long. And not only does the loss of the Alien Queens create an opening in my schedule, but…

"Could Stanford also possibly spend some time in exobiology," she asked, turning to Emilio. "The fields around the eggs are actually a type of telemetry. His insights could be quite invaluable in helping us determine how they work."

From the way Stanford smiled, she could see how much he appreciated her helping to prove his importance to Emilio. This made her even more certain of his cooperation, if only she were extremely careful in how she phrased her questions and requests.

"I am sure he can work that into his schedule," the director replied, seeming pleased that she was now making creative suggestions to aid their effort instead of the very thinly concealed accusations he had come to expect from her. Raising a hand toward Colin, he said, "Now that he's reached a decision about the final configuration of our new ship, I've asked Colin if he would suggest a name with which to christen it. Since everyone helped, I'm going to allow you all to vote. If it's not accepted, we'll look for other suggestions."

"I wanted something that suggested flight," Colin explained, "but something that also spoke to the idea of a hybrid. I finally found an animal from ancient mythology that I think comes close enough for the purpose. I propose that we name this new intergalactic ship the Griffin."

Eleanor applauded. Others began joining in after only a few seconds. Ultimately, the confirmation was unanimous. Colin grinned with gratitude.

Emilio patiently waited for the celebration to subside before saying, "What about any intruders on the Centaur or around the Griffin? Can we perhaps come up with some way to at least detect them, even if we can't derive an image that actually resolves?"

Glancing at Poole, who nodded, Marco replied, "We'll see what we can do."

Poole added, "Once we understand how to use the Griffin's sensors, we might have a tool that their technology can't defeat. In the meantime, we'll look for other options."

"This might seem like semantics," Kalinda interjected, "but I think we need one other name. We've ascribed the scientific designation of parasitoids to the aliens, even though we still refer to the Alien Queens. And the beings responsible for building the derelict are now most commonly called the Architects. But we need a name for these new aliens, so we can keep things straight."

"Since they move about so subversively," Poole replied, "and are apparently able to kill even Alien Queens, perhaps we should simply call them the Predators."

"That's real pretty, Poole," Emilio replied, smiling dryly. "But I guess it'll have to do."

Eleanor had observed what appeared to be a growing amount of animosity between the leader of the androids and the director. In fact, it surprisingly seemed secondary only to the enmity she experienced in her association. Even though it inspired her to be more trustful of the Artificials, it nevertheless left her incredulous. Such an emotional response from an Artificial seemed as altogether unlikely as Sangria's obvious attachment to Tan.

"We lost two people due to the explosive decompression and one other is now in the infirmary in critical condition, although I expect him to pull through," said Kalinda, offering the update. Looking to Eleanor, she echoed Stanford's earlier statement by saying, "You saved some lives by ordering that evacuation. Due to the fact that most everybody's shift had already ended, there weren't that many people left in those sections or they wouldn't have gotten out in time."

"And I appreciate that you've all worked way past the scheduled end of your shifts in order to respond to this emergency," Emilio added. "Please take the first half of your next shift off and get yourselves some well earned rest. And if any of you need to eat before you turn in, just meet me in the mess hall. One more meal before bedtime; I'm buying."

Almost everyone followed Emilio out of the room. Eleanor and Colin lingered. Jamul and Suki fell in behind the others, but turned in a different direction as the group reached the first junction in the adjacent corridor. The concern in his eyes was very easily evident as Colin turned and warmly regarded Eleanor.

"Are you really okay?" he emphatically asked.

"Kalinda cleared me to return to duty," she appreciatively replied, "but I have quite a headache."

"I'd offer to trade pillows, but I suppose there's no point," he smilingly said.

"Just keep extending the offer," she jokingly replied. "Maybe such an opportunity will eventually arise."

"I understand your desire not to dine with the director," he said. "But if you're hungry, I have some high-protein snacks in my quarters. And I have a variety of drinks, both with and without caffeine."

"That sounds wonderful," she answered, smiling.

As they strolled out of the meeting room, he turned to her and observed, "We might be able to catch up with Jamul and Suki this time. They can't have gotten very far ahead of us, if you think you're up to it."

Although they elected to divert down the same passageway that the aforementioned pair had used, she was about to gracefully decline when they unexpectedly encountered Poole. It appeared as if the android leader had actually been waiting for them. He moved away from the wall, against which he had been reclining, as they came into view.

"I hope you don't mind me taking this opportunity," he apologetically said, "but I have spent so much time plugged into alien technology that I haven't had a chance to make a proper report to either of you."

"It's okay, but do you mind walking with us?" Eleanor asked in reply, as Colin waited for her to field the android's request. "I'm famished, and we're on our way to his quarters for a bite before bed."

"I'd be happy to tag along," Poole replied, using an archaic expression that surprised the pair. It made him suddenly seem so authentically human.

"How did you know where to wait for us?" she asked, tackling that aspect instead.

"After the way Director Esperanza spoke to you, I don't think I'd want to eat with him either," Poole replied, "even at his expense."

"I'm not sure you were really treated much better," she honestly observed. "I've seen what appears to be animosity in his attitude toward you."

"Yes, but at least he's consistent," Poole replied, seriously surprising them this time.

"Why do you think that is?" Colin inquired when Eleanor was too astounded to frame the follow-up.

"Do you want honesty or etiquette?" Poole asked in reply. "I don't have any answers that allow for both."

"Let's go for honesty," Eleanor took the occasion to answer. "I'm afraid it's becoming an increasingly rare commodity around here."

"He treats me as he does because he can," Poole replied. By way of explanation, he then said, "In his dealings with Organics, he must somewhat modify his behavior in order to obtain the desired results. He simply treats me the way he would treat everyone if that were not true."

Eleanor and Colin walked along in stunned silence for several seconds, before Colin finally said, "Yup, that's an honest answer."

"Okay, that's enough small talk," Eleanor authoritatively interjected, desperate at this point to change the subject. "Did you say you had something you needed the opportunity to report?"

"I've made some progress in deciphering the Architects' system," Poole replied. "I've found that they use an extremely sophisticated form of biometrics in interacting with their technology. Eventually, I'll be able to use this information to access their flight recorder."

"Then you believe you will be able to effectively fly the Griffin once it's finished?" she asked.

"I see no reason to assume otherwise," the surprisingly adroit android circumspectly replied.

"Anything else?" she ultimately asked after several more seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"I would appreciate your secrecy concerning this other item, since I've yet to decode the entries enough to know what it might mean," Poole replied. "I think I may've detected an aberrant interface. It lacks the typical biometric coding and it also looks as if it was an isolated event."

"What would that mean?" asked Colin, suddenly sounding like a scientist again.

"It has certain characteristics I've come to associate with a change of course," Poole responded. "But it's too early to say anything with certainty. I will continue my efforts and let you know what I find."

"Are you really as optimistic about finding some way to detect this new race of aliens as you somehow managed to sound in the meeting room?" Eleanor suspiciously asked.

"Guardedly," the android answered.

"Do you believe the Predators may've been invisibly observing all our efforts on LV-426," Colin asked.

"I wish I knew," Poole replied, sounding unexpectedly sincere. "All they'd have to do to irreparably interrupt this undertaking is eliminate me and my team. We are in far more immediate danger than anyone else, or had you even considered that?"

The couple was temporarily rendered speechless, but Eleanor eventually answered, "I'm sorry, I guess we've been too concerned about our own skins to think about the type of tactics that an adversary could use against us. But we're not like Emilio. We genuinely care about you and your team. Is there anything at all we can do to possible improve the situation to safeguard you and your people?"

"I know you do and not immediately," he smilingly said, appearing to truly appreciate the sentiment being expressed. "But the first step in avoiding danger is the recognition of its existence. And I suspect that the subspace shockwaves, which resulted each time we added another section to the ship, would've revealed any invisible observers nearby. But we've nearly finished the Griffin, so I can only hope the technology of the spaceship itself will now serve to diminish the danger."

Poole paused as they reached an intersection where one of the hallways led toward the nearby shuttle bay; and Eleanor, realizing that the android had indeed accomplished his agenda with regards to them, said, "Be safe and keep in touch."

"Thank you. I will," he grinningly replied. "But if it's alright with you, I'd prefer to make my reports in person."

With that, the Artificial turned and strode down the perpendicular passageway. Colin and Eleanor continued toward his cabin. The hallways were relatively empty and she left him alone with his thoughts for a few minutes.

As they were just outside his quarters, she finally asked, "What's on your mind?"

"I've been considering the overwhelming amount of unknowns with which we're now dealing," he distractedly answered.

"There certainly are enough of them," she agreed. "But the one that's foremost in my mind is the question of how I can use my friendship with Stanford to save the crew of the Somnambulist."

Chapter 7

A Change of Fortune

Because all the department heads had been called upon to meet in the aftermath of the emergency, Marco had spent a sleep-shift aboard the Centaur. Thus he was there to breakfast with Eleanor and Colin. He was reclining at one of their customary tables in the back of one of the corners of the mess hall with Jamul and Suki, though she was actually taking a lunch break. After assembling their selections on their trays, they were surprised when the cashier politely told them that the director had left instructions for their meals to be placed against his account. They both smiled, despite being somewhat embarrassed, and then headed off to join their friends.

Skirting any attempt at small talk as she was sitting down, Eleanor looked at Marco and asked, "As far as you are aware, has any Artificial ever mastered the art of sarcastic humor?"

"Are you going to try and sell me some swampland on Mars?" Marco jokingly asked in reply.

"While most of you were having a late dinner with our darling director, we had some extremely interesting wordplay with Poole," she said, "and I'd say we were both seriously out of our depth."

When Marco seemed momentarily at a loss for words, Colin interjected, "Aside from an expertise with human sentiments and expressions, he demonstrated a level of insight that was altogether astounding. He's been hooked up to the alien technology longer than any of his associates, although even they are also showing signs of increased sentience. I think it's time to admit that something outside our understanding is happening to them."

When it looked to her like Marco was attempting to phrase some refutation, Eleanor added, "I don't think she's merely imitating our geneticist's affections; I believe Sangria is genuinely in love with Tan. I saw how she responded in the emergency. My injury forced her to give me preferential treatment. But she wanted to give it to Tan, who was not hurt. I'm certain of it."

"I am not going to insult anyone by dismissing the anomalous mannerisms we've all noticed in them of late," Marco defensively said. "However, I've run full scans on each of them and I can't detect so much as the suggestion of anything amiss. Consequently, I've no idea how to account for these aberrations. I'm sorry; I just don't have an explanation."

"But by your own acknowledgment, you've only searched inside their manufactured forms," Jamul surprised everyone by interjecting. "Perhaps that isn't where the alteration is occurring."

"Whatever do you mean?" Marco demanded, still sounding defensive.

"The Griffin apparently interacts with the continuum," Jamul replied. "In other words, it extends beyond itself and therefore exceeds the sum of its parts; which is the essence of sentience, or so some might insist. The quantum resonations could be creating a type of field around them that's beyond our ability to detect. And this field could be the source of their increased consciousness. There are dimensions beyond our measurements."

"Beyond being a rather farfetched conjecture, though admittedly highly imaginative," Marco replied, trying to soften his rebuttal, "I find that it contains a fundamental flaw. You all have had experience with various types of information technology, and you know how upgrades work. You can only improve a system just so far before it essentially becomes a different system, to which the system from which it was derived then becomes foreign. The upgrades you can then apply to this new system are not supported by its precursor, even though its operation is actually based on essentially the same technology."

"What about the fibers?" Colin asked, sounding unconvinced.

"The neuro-fibers in the Griffin are similar to the fiber optics in the Artificials only by the most existential of extrapolations," Marco maintained. "And it's only by our incredibly good fortune that they can interface with so foreign a system. Jamul's hypothesis comes very close to presupposing that they're both somehow derived from the same source, so much so that the more advanced system is capable of compensating for the inadequacy of the antiquated system and upgrading it anyway. That's way past parallel technology."

"Wait a sec. The coffee hasn't kicked in yet," Eleanor interrupted with a wave of her hand. Smiling warmly at Marco, she then continued, "I just want to be sure I understand. You're saying that, in order for Jamul's explanation to work, the Artificials would have to be a stepping stone on the way to the technology that ultimately becomes the derelict?"

"Yeah, I guess that's about the size of it," Marco agreed. "And that thrusts it into the realm of the ridiculous, don't you think?"

As she exchanged a glance with Suki, she noted the concerned expression that was easily evident on her assistant's face, as Eleanor replied, "I'm not so sure."

"Even though they're superior in stature, which is also completely consistent with the trend in humanity's development, the Architects have exactly the same anatomical ratios as we do," Suki explained. "This is why the human hybrid was indistinguishable from her cellmates, although they were apparently Architect hybrids. And since they disappeared, we have nothing against which to genetically compare the one killed by the Predator. It's possible that this was actually part of their intent, although we may never know for sure."

"Interestingly, the human hybrid was also able to assume the position of dominance in the group. And this was despite being the youngest," Eleanor added.

"And we are assuming the technology of the Architects allows them to travel through time!" Colin suddenly exclaimed. Turning to Eleanor, he intensely asked, "Just where are you going with this?"

"Nowhere in particular," she replied with a shrug. Turning back to Marco, she added, "I was just rehearsing all the information for those who haven't been around much lately. That's all."

"If some kind of ineffable energy field does exist around the Artificials, how could we detect it?" Marco asked.

"Maybe it would interact with the one that surrounds the eggs," Suki suggested.

Since he was supposed to assist in investigating the very phenomenon she had just mentioned, it was almost as if Stanford came strolling into the mess hall on cue. Noticing his assembled associates, he waved. After filling his tray, he quickly moved to join them.

Seeing an unexpected opportunity as he was sitting down, Eleanor politely waited to catch his eye before asking, "Do you happen to know whether the Somnambulist has an Artificial onboard?"

"I think that's pretty much standard procedure even on a ship that small," he replied. He then paused and asked, "Why?"

Even though she saw nothing to indicate that he had been involved in the relaying of deadly instructions to such a synthetic individual, she knew all too well that he was being mentored by a master of deception. If indeed Emilio intended to use those crewmembers as hosts, she could only hope Stanford had simply facilitated the transmission without an actual understanding of the director's dark agenda.

"We were just discussing the increasingly odd behavior of our friends, the Artificials," she replied. "Jamul proposed a possible reason, and Suki suggested a way to test it. But it would probably be to our advantage if we had an unaffected individual who could serve as the standard against which to measure the others."

"That's a very good idea," Marco agreed as the others around the table all nodded.

"It doesn't sound difficult or time-consuming," Stanford enigmatically answered. "And that's a good thing since it'll keep you out of the conflict between Emilio and the captain."

"They're fighting over the additional Artificial?" Eleanor incredulously inquired as she tried very hard to keep the excitement out of her voice. "Why?"

"Since only the Artificials can operate the Griffin, Emilio wants of all them transferred over to it," answered Stanford. "Captain Kaminski has not been happy since Emilio made him aware of the decision. Because of the Centaur's size and its crew compliment when compared to that of the Somnambulist, he's now insisting that their Artificial should serve in place of the eight he's losing. Emilio wants the Artificial to stay aboard the tug to make sure its cargo gets safely to the labs at corporate. But I can see Kaminski's point. It's just a straight shot back for them, and he's still out here on assignment with no set itinerary."

"Aren't there any alternatives?" Colin inquired.

"I suggested that we petition for a military escort," Stanford sounded embarrassed to admit. "That would provide much more security for the Somnambulist than could a single Artificial."

"What happened?" Eleanor asked.

"The director blew up at me," he replied. "I've never seen him so angry. I guess he's not ready yet for the military to know what we found out here."

Or he knows just how much more difficult it's going to be to pass off the death of the crew as an accident if there are observers in the immediate area. I have to persuade the department heads to side with Kaminski, no matter how ugly Emilio gets over it.

"Some of us at this table have been tagged to eventually transfer to the Griffin when the time comes, but not all of us," she cautiously observed. "And I'd sure feel a lot better about leaving my friends onboard if I knew there was an Artificial here to look after them. At the risk of further endangering my reputation with the director, I really think we should side with the captain and insist on the transfer of the Somnambulist's Artificial."

"I understand what you're saying. I really do. But don't you think that's just a little too assertive?" Marco asked.

"This mission was a calculated risk that didn't stand much chance of success," Colin countered, coming on cue to Eleanor's defense. "However, we now have over a hundred parasitoid eggs that will soon be on their way back to the corporate labs and we're close to completing an intergalactic ship. So far, we haven't asked for anything. I don't think it's too much of a concession to insist that the team members, for whom we are immediately responsible, are cared for according to an established company policy in our absence."

"I'm with you," said Kalinda, who had overheard their discussion while she was filling her food tray and now came walking over to their table. "Emilio has to listen to reason."

"When is the Somnambulist supposed to arrive, and how long will we have before it leaves?" asked Eleanor, addressing her question to Stanford.

"It should be here by the end of the shift," he hesitantly answered. "And the eggs are supposed to stay here until you and Tan, as he requested, have completed your study of the energy field around them. Look, I fully understand that you're all concerned about the shipmates you'll be leaving behind when the Griffin makes its maiden voyage. I really do. But I can't be part of this, not directly. I'll provide you with whatever information I can and of course you will have access to my telemetry skills; but I can't confront the director with you, and I won't sign anything to support your position. I hope you understand."

"Since you aren't a department head, it'd be useless for you to participate directly in our little insurrection," she reassuringly answered. "Your greatest assistance to us would be behind the scenes anyway. Don't worry. You're not sacrificing our friendship."

When she saw how visibly relieved Stanford was by so reassuring a reply, she knew there was no way it could have possibly been simple pretense. Despite the doubtfulness of their situation, she was suddenly certain that at least his friendship was not feigned.

"I'll take point on this," Kalinda abruptly announced. "He actually is trying to violate a safety policy of which I'm not only aware, but I served on the board that approved it. Add to that the fact that I'll be the person responsible for the well being of the crew he leaves on this ship. I'll present the formal complaint. The rest of you only need to back me up."

"What are you going to say?" Suki nervously asked.

"Even though the percentage of Organics to Artificials is merely a recommendation," she replied, "company policy now clearly states that there has to be at least one Artificial on each ship when underway. I would sign off on an exception for the Somnambulist due to the small size of its crew and the directness of its return route. But something the size of the Centaur requires at least one Artificial aboard. He'll either have to transfer the one from the Somnambulist to the Centaur, or he'll have to decrease the number of Artificials aboard the Griffin by no less than one."

If he goes for that last option, it won't help the crew of the Somnambulist. There has to be some way to reinforce the idea of sending it home without an Artificial onboard.

"And exactly how many Artificials does that policy recommend for a ship the size of the Centaur?" Eleanor asked.

"All of the eight he means to commandeer," Kalinda replied. "Since we didn't want to place such restrictions on long-range shuttles, we allowed for exceptions where the crew of the ship was half a dozen people or less. With no Artificial onboard, the Somnambulist would actually meet that requirement."

"Emilio will want to know how you found out about his plan when the tug hasn't even arrived yet," Stanford nervously suggested. "What are you going to say?"

"I'm friends with the captain," Kalinda replied, smiling. "If I just happen to stop by, I'm sure he'll make his complaint to me. Then we can just round up all the department heads and go see Emilio together. There'd be no reason for us to even mention your name."

"Thank you," Stanford said, bowing his head and breathing an audible sigh of relief.

"If you need me, I'll just jump on a shuttle and come back," Colin said. "But right now I guess Marco and I'd better get down to the Griffin and see how things are going there."

"I'll let you now," Kalinda answered, pausing between bites to do so.

As Marco and Colin got up and left for the shuttle bay, Jamul and Suki also excused themselves. Turning to Stanford, who had tried to avoid the conversation by being busily engaged in eating, Eleanor said, "If you're about finished with that, perhaps you'd care to join me in exobiology for a look at that force field. If Sangria's still there, as I suspect, we might even be able to test Suki's suggestion."

"I don't know if I'm really done with it or not, but I think it's done with me," he replied, indicating disgust as he pushed the tray away. "Let's go."

Tan and Sangria were both in exobiology. Eleanor and Stanford arrived right behind Suki. Understanding their intent, as she glanced over her shoulder to see who had come through the doorway behind her, she adjusted her trajectory and also moved towards the seemingly mismatched pair. Noticing the movements and looking up from the equipment they were using, it did not escape Eleanor's attention that they both looked very happy to see her. She recalled her performance under pressure during her last visit to exobiology.

"Stanford's going to help us figure out that field," she said, "unless there've been any breakthroughs I haven't heard about yet. And I was also wondering if you would help me with an experiment, Sangria," Eleanor said.

"I'd love to," she replied with what certainly sounded like real conviction.

"What have you got so far?" asked Stanford as he slid in between Sangria and Tan.

"Our probes of the field have only revealed an electrostatic charge," Sangria replied. "But we haven't succeeded in measuring its strength. We believe it fluctuates or pulsates almost like alternating current."

"That's pretty sophisticated for something that's supposedly biometric," Suki said.

"Does it react to the probe?" Stanford asked as he took the controls and prepared to send the sensor array through the enigmatic energy field himself.

"That's the really weird thing," Tan responded. "No, it doesn't. And yet, its purpose is apparently to detect the presence of a possible host."

"Sangria, have you been inside the chamber yourself?" Eleanor asked.

"No," she replied, seeming intrigued. "Are you suggesting that I should see if I could elicit a response?"

"Sounds risky," Tan interjected.

"Are the suppression systems still operational?" Eleanor asked. When he tentatively nodded, she consolingly said, "It'll take some time for any of the eggs to open. Between Sangria's superhuman speed and our cryogenic spray, she should be in no danger."

Watching the indicators, Stanford became increasingly animated as he said, "I don't see how an energy field could seem strongest at its boundary and weakest around what has to be its source. Wait a minute. They have to be using the cryogenic environment of space. This is the kind of effect we see in magnetic impermeability. That's why exposure to the void triggers them to respond this way. They're not simply in hypersleep. They are actually using their super-cooled condition to set a trap. I'm fluctuatingly freaked out!"

"I wondered about the smell," Suki said. "But if the field is like a bubble of super-fluid or a cryogenically suspended magnetic field, why doesn't it react to the metal probe?"

"And doesn't that mean our spray would be useless against the face-huggers?" Tan apprehensively added.

"Maybe, but you can still electrify the floor behind me as I retreat if there is any type of response," Sangria said. "I'm still willing to try. We're not exactly making any progress here."

"I admire your spirit," Eleanor said, before she could even consider the irony of such an observation. Turning swiftly to Stanford, she asked, "Are you having any luck?"

"No, but I'm in the perfect position to monitor the field for any interaction," he replied. "So if you want to do this, now's the time."

With a look that was unmistakably meant to reassure Tan, Sangria turned away and moved towards the airlock. The recycling chamber could now only be accessed by using an extremely complex code, of which she was aware. With a speed that was beyond the abilities of the observers, she quickly tapped it into the keypad and then stepped into the opening enclosure. A few moments later, after the airlock completely depressurized, she entered an environment that would have been swiftly fatal to her friends.

"Just take it nice and easy," Tan nervously said into the microphone. "I've swung the sprayer around just in case. The pressure should deflect them if they try to jump on you."

"I didn't think they'd be able to impregnate an Artificial," Suki said after making sure her microphone was engaged.

"I don't think so either. I always assumed that Artificials would be immune," Eleanor agreed. "But if they were to mistake her for a valid host, they still might use their acid on her when they're disappointed. And she's certainly not immune to that."

"Thank you for that," Tan ungraciously grumbled. "Okay all you people, quiet down. She's approaching the field."

Everyone saw how Sangria paused to make sure Tan and Stanford were set before saying, "I'm at the outer boundary. I'm going to try just sticking my hand through the field to see if there's any reaction. Here we go."

Despite all the anticipation, the interaction failed to produce a response. She turned her hand over in the field's edge and even moved it around in circles, but no fluctuations were recorded by any of Stanford's equipment nor could any changes be detected in the disposition of the bay's darkling denizens. After several moments of what seemed to the spectators like psychological preparation, Sangria stepped fully inside the field.

Looking over Stanford's shoulder at the absolute absence of any response, Eleanor said, "The crewmember from the Nostromo said the field around the eggs reacted when broken. I'm not seeing any indication of that."

"Because there isn't any," Stanford explained. "I don't know how it could possibly be designed to respond only to something organic, but apparently that's the case."

"You're done Sangria," Tan said with relief, speaking into the microphone. "Come on out of there."

Sangria's expression slowly transmuted into one that seemed to impossibly suggest exasperation. It was as if she were infuriated by having overcome her apprehension only to be so completely dissatisfied by the outcome. Responding in almost the same illogical manner that a human might have in such a situation, she turned to the nearest alien egg and gave it a swift kick.

There was a reaction, but it was not one they had expected. It did not come from the egg which simply maintained its indomitable dormancy. Three radiant points of blood red light abruptly appeared near the center of Sangria's chest. Tracking them to their source, everyone was stunned to see a spectrum-like shimmer in the furthest back corner of the bay.

"One of the Predators is in there with her!" Eleanor gasped.

"Sangria, are you armed?" Tan tensely rasped. As she slowly shook her head from side to side, he said, "Then don't provoke it. Keep your hands away from your body and back out of there by the most direct route."

As she stepped back beyond the boundary of the mystifying field of force, the points of light disappeared. She then turned and sprinted with superhuman speed back into the comparative security of the airlock, which she quickly closed behind herself. She swiftly keyed in the code and cycled the airlock.

As she rounded the corner and reentered exobiology proper, she asked, "Is it still in there?"

"We think so," Stanford answered. "At least I'm sure it didn't reach the airlock before you closed the door. It's moved and I'm unable to locate its present position. But it has to still be in the bay. This is my big chance to see if I can figure out a way to scan for them. I hope you guys don't mind me hanging out here for awhile."

"Knock yourself out," Sangria answered, utilizing her newfound penchant for ancient colloquialisms. To reinforce the humor in her suggestion, she indicated the indentation in the wall behind herself and added, "I already did."

The rest of the shift passed without further incident, except that all the while Eleanor was anticipating with decided trepidation the imminent arrival of the Somnambulist.

It was right after the end of the shift, as Stanford had estimated, that Mage McGuire, Captain of the commercial towing vehicle, Somnambulist, asked for permission to couple alongside the Centaur. With her were First Officer Garrett Guthrie, Yuri Yamato, Quentin Quaid, Brea Burdette, Jerome Jeffries, and an Artificial named Banks. All the department heads, and even some of their assistants, were mustered to welcome aboard the crew of the tug.

Since Captain Kaminski and Chief Medical Officer Dubois entered the reception hall with Emilio between them, Eleanor assumed that the anticipated confrontation had either already happened or was actually still underway. She wondered if the department heads would be asked to remain while their assistants and the crew of the Somnambulist were all dismissed. She was not looking forward to whatever might follow, although lives were quite possibly hanging in the balance.

Despite her dread concerning the aftermath, the reception went quite well. She was impressed by the individuals for whose safety she harbored so much worry. This helped her rededicate herself to their rescue. In fact, by the end of the evening she was actually anxious to know what Emilio would do to resolve the situation. She knew it was possible that his solution would leave a reprogrammed android onboard the Somnambulist. Even though she had spent most of her half-shift in exobiology trying to devise a backup plan, she still had no idea how she would thwart the director if he satisfied Kalinda's concerns by only transferring seven Artificials to the Griffin.

As the festivities were finally coming to a conclusion, Emilio explained to the visitors that some research would have to be wrapped up before he could release the cargo into their care. As they were falling out to follow an escort to their temporary quarters aboard the Centaur, and as Eleanor had expected, Emilio requested the department heads and anyone else who wanted to do so to remain. Suki, Stanford, and Tan also stayed.

"Apparently I was overly eager in my selection for the crew of the Griffin," he began. "Others helped me see the error of my ways. The obvious answer is to transfer one less Artificial from the Centaur."

"A crew of six doesn't really require an Artificial," Eleanor cautiously observed. "You could stay with your original plan and simply keep the one from the Somnambulist for the Centaur."

"Even though I'm not sure they'd understand me taking an action that would seem to minimize the importance of their part in the mission, I suppose I could choose to do that," he replied. But then, he asked, "Do we have any reason to think they might actually need their Artificial?"

On cue, Stanford said, "There's a Predator in the bay with the alien eggs."

Eleanor had been hoping that Stanford had not yet made a report to Emilio, since he had not yet been successful in finding a way to detect the intruders. To her, the fluidity of their exchange clearly indicated otherwise.

"In that case, I think we'd better let them keep their Artificial," Emilio very predictably replied. "I'll just leave one of ours aboard the Centaur."

"Which one?" Tan abruptly asked.

"Since she's spent the least amount of time on the Griffin," Emilio replied, "I suppose it should be Sangria."

"Could you please send Suki in my place?" Tan unexpectedly asked. "Eleanor really needs an assistant much more than she needs me."

The situation has gone from bad to worse. I've not only entirely failed in my attempt to remove the Artificial from the Somnambulist, but the director's solution is now actually endangering the weird relationship between the geneticist and his Artificial assistance.

"I can't believe you're passing up an opportunity to go gallivanting around the galaxy with us," said Emilio with a furrowed frown. "Maybe Kalinda should've checked you out."

"I'll submit to an evaluation if you insist, but the request stands," Tan very resolutely stated.

"With Sangria off the ship, there's room for one more anyway," Emilio replied. "I was already planning on extending the opportunity to Suki. I'll have to consider your request."

"Thanks very much, Director Esperanza," said Suki, with genuine gratitude. She was apparently the only one who found anything affirmative at all in the entire exchange.

"You're welcome," he replied. Turning to Stanford, he then asked, "Are you the least bit optimistic about comprehending the force field around the eggs or devising some way to penetrate the invisibility of the Predators?"

"Not really," Stanford admitted, with honest embarrassment.

Eleanor had the impression that this part of the discussion had also been rehearsed. Stanford was nonetheless ashamed to admit his shortcoming in front of his friends, even if it were required to suit the director's end. She understood the posturing that was being accomplished before the words were even out of Emilio's mouth.

"Then it really makes no sense to delay any longer," he theatrically concluded. "We'll let them sleep on our nice comfortable ship and then we'll start our next shifts by helping them extract the containment bay and get underway with it. Even as equipped as I made the Centaur, we're simply no match for the labs at corporate. Their first priority will be the Predator. Understanding its instrumentality could conceivably be of greater benefit to the company than even the acquisition of the alien eggs. Even if we find that we can't fly the Griffin, we could easily still be talking about some absolutely incredible bonuses."

Emilio had very strategically situated the reminder of remuneration at the conclusion of the discussion. Although its importance seemed pallid in comparison to the paradoxes with which they were dealing, he thought it quite prudent at this point to prompt them into recalling that they were working for wages, and he could tell by the abruptly introspective expressions on several of the surrounding faces that he had succeeded.

"See you all on the flipside," he concluded, indicating that they were all dismissed.

Desperation drove Eleanor to invite Colin back to her cabin. However, he seemed to understand how very vulnerable she was and that what she really needed was someone with whom she could have a completely candid conversation. He was perceptive enough to know that it was not an appropriate opportunity for intimacy, no matter how tempting it seemed.

As he was pouring beverages for them both, she turned to him, asking, "Why did the Predator give away its presence to threaten Sangria that way? How can we explain such behavior?"

"We don't know anything about its perceptions," he replied, trying to work his way to an answer. "But even if it can't visually tell the difference between humans and Artificials, it should've known from her encounter with the Alien Queen that she's not like us. And if it knew she couldn't become a host, I'd have to conclude that it just didn't want the eggs to be disturbed."

"If she'd provoked one into hatching," she theorized, "it would've then been forced to try and find a host. Maybe they're not immune, or maybe there was concern that it might cause another explosive decompression situation."

"But why was it in there in the first place?" Colin asked, trying to narrow the focus of their dialogue. "Was it for the same reason they took the Alien Queens, as we assume?"

"That sounds as if they're trying to prevent the alien from propagating," she replied.

"They didn't do that with the Nostromo," Colin objected.

"But that was a century and a half ago," she answered. "Maybe they just didn't know the alien was here then."

"If for some reason their purpose really is to keep the aliens from spreading, what do you think will happen if Banks has been reprogrammed and tries to use his shipmates as hosts?" he asked.

"Something bad," she answered. "It's one thing to stumble into unknown danger. But it's something entirely different to knowingly unleash it on helpless members of your own kind. If the Predator sees that we're capable of such things, it's impossible to estimate its response."

"That bay is equipped with automation for manipulating everything inside it," he said. "Banks won't have to actually go in there to gain access to the eggs. I can't believe it, but I'm considering the sabotage of my own handiwork and wondering if I could possibly pull it off."

"Don't feel too badly about it," she answered. "I was just wondering if I could arrange the assassination of an Artificial."

"There might be one other possibility," he musingly suggested. "If we could come up with some reason for Banks to take a trip down to LV-426 while everyone else is asleep, perhaps exposure to the final few quantum resonations would short-circuit his suspected reprogramming."

"If you can't think of a reason, perhaps we could contact Poole," she replied.

"The message might be intercepted," he sorrowfully responded. "And I can't think of a single reason to send an extra Artificial to the surface."

"Could there maybe be an accident during the transfer of the bay?" she suggested.

"The eggs are already exposed to space," he reminded her. "An explosion sufficient to destroy it would doubtlessly claim the very lives we're trying to save. And the chances of making it look like an accident are probably the same as you taking down the Artificial all by yourself, unless you have some paramilitary expertise about which I know nothing. I don't think there's really anything we can do."

"Then I'll have to take a chance on talking directly to the crew of the Somnambulist," she concluded.

The mess hall was bustling; however, the director's presence was keeping everyone unwanted away from one of the preferred far corners at the back of the spacious bay. As they shuffled their way into the serving line, Eleanor and Colin could see that the crew of the Somnambulist had already assembled there. The pair placed their selections on their trays, checked out, and joined them. Suki, Jamul, and Stanford were also seated among those already amassed.

"I assume you'll be underway soon?" Eleanor asked, looking to Mage. When the red haired captain, having just put a forkful of food into her mouth, replied with a simple nod, Eleanor then said, "I'm also assuming that you and your crew have all been fully briefed about the hazardous cargo you'll be carrying."

Emilio looked concerned by her broaching the subject, but elected not to interrupt as Mage swallowed and smilingly answered, "Yes, we have. Thanks for the concern."

"I hope you won't be offended, but I have to tell you there's no way I'd even consider trading places with you," Eleanor honestly admitted.

Out of the corner of her eye, it looked very much to Eleanor like Emilio was about to say something, when Mage replied, "We're being paid a fortune for our small part in your project."

Looking now instead directly at Emilio, Eleanor concluded, "That's nice to know, but you still have to live long enough to spend it."

Mage seriously surprised Eleanor by answering, "I know all about the Nostromo and there's no way Banks could do anything like that to us. The director warned us that you'd have some concerns. He also told us why. Let me put your mind at rest. We're not in any danger. But thanks all the same."

I'm out of options. This was my last chance to save these people. Am I wrong? Then why would Emilio try so hard to reassure them? They'll never even see the fortune that's supposed to be changing hands here. But there's nothing more I can do.

Emilio looked like he had read her mind. It left her feeling unnerved. Quickly turning away, she used one foot to pull out a chair at a nearby table. Colin swiftly seated himself immediately beside her. He desperately wanted to say something, anything, to reassure her; but anything he said would certainly be overheard, and he could think of no way to phrase a candid comment.

After they had finished breakfast, everybody headed for exobiology and the bay that would soon be separated from the Centaur. Colin carefully directed the procedure as the containment area was extended away from the backside of the ship, along its supporting armatures, until it could be uncoupled. There was no reason to believe that the Predator had escaped in the interim, but Stanford was still unable to corroborate its presence with any of his equipment. While the two men were employing their expertise, the crew of the Somnambulist moved it into position to receive the extracted compartment.

Eleanor and Suki could only watch helplessly through the monitor as the eggs of the ultimate marauder were removed forever beyond their reach. The cradle of calamity was no longer empty and its contents were no longer under their control.

"It's not too late to blow up the ship," Suki whispered, sounding surprisingly serious.

Eleanor was not really certain if her assistant was teasing her, but she replied, "Yes, I'm afraid it is. There's no way Emilio would let anybody near the kind of critical systems that would have to be sabotaged in order to achieve such an objective. If they're headed for the fate I fear, it's been too late to do anything about it for quite some time now."

Suki had never heard her speak with so defeated a tone. Consequently, she had no idea how to react. The women then watched in subdued silence until the Somnambulist had coupled to its cargo, swung smartly around, and then receded back towards human-occupied space.

Turning to Stanford, who was still seated at the sensor station that he had set up in exobiology, and who seemed unusually preoccupied, Eleanor asked, "You're monitoring their departure, aren't you?"

Shooting her a sidelong look and lowering his voice, he said, "Emilio was concerned that the Predators might interfere with the transfer. But if there's any other ship out there, I haven't been able to detect it. Jamul and I haven't had any luck in that regard. Why?"

"I was wondering if you'd mind watching for awhile," Eleanor replied. "Emilio isn't the only one concerned about their departure."

"If the Predators were going to try something, I think they'd have done it by now," he suggested. Then, with a more despondent tone than she had ever heard him use before, he continued, "But it's not like I have the field around the eggs to study anymore. And my best chance of penetrating the Predators' cloaking technology was while we actually had one trapped in the containment area. So what the hell, I guess I've nothing better to do."

Although she was acutely concerned that Emilio had reprogrammed Banks in much the same manner as Ash, the alien's anonymous accomplice aboard the Nostromo, she preferred to believe that Stanford had only initiated the contact for the director. Now, she was no longer so certain. She hoped his melancholy mood was only the result of his own suspicions about what his expertise had been used to accomplish.

"Banks just signaled that the crew has been secured," he finally announced after a couple of extremely worrisome minutes. "They'll be making the jump to hyperspace any moment now."

The words had no more than left his mouth before there was an immense explosion in the distance. The blindingly bright ball of incinerating radiance left no room for doubt in the minds of the startled observers that it was of thermonuclear nature. His reflexes were almost reminiscent of those of an Artificial as Stanford's hands expertly raced across his controls.

"The explosion originated inside the compartment they were towing," he said after a few moments. "The Somnambulist has been completely destroyed."

Colin had been securing the assembly that once supported the containment bay. He and Emilio entered exobiology together. The director, returning his com-link to his belt, asked, "Did you say the explosion came from inside the compartment with the eggs?"

"I'm afraid so," Stanford replied. "The Predator in there must've come equipped with its own self-destruct device."

"But why use it?" Colin emotionally demanded, showing a side of his personality that the director had not yet seen.

"It must've come to the realization that it was about to be sent at hyperspace speed away from any possible rescue by its shipmates, assuming there's actually an alien ship nearby," Emilio answered, looking straight at Stanford as he finished.

"That's awfully flimsy, even for you!" Colin exclaimed as he turned and unexpectedly railed against the director. "Surely you're not really expecting us to believe that, with their technology, they couldn't rescue one of their own? I think there's pretty much unanimous agreement that the Predators' purpose is to prevent the parasitoids from reproducing! So the only explanation that makes any sense would involve someone trying to gain access to the eggs! And since the Artificial was the only one not in hypersleep, there can be only one answer! You programmed him to make hosts out of his unconscious shipmates! You son of a bitch! That Predator didn't kill those people, Emilio! You did!"

"Oh my God," said Jamul, who had come walking into exobiology right in the middle of Colin's accusation. "Why would you do that?"

"I guess you can stop payment on the fortunes they were promised," Eleanor added. "It'll now be up to the insurance companies to settle their estates. But I'm wondering, just how much did you make in this terrible transaction?"

"This is so nuts. I mean listen to what you're saying. It's paranoid delusion. It's really sad. It's pathetic," Emilio angrily answered. "I'm going to do you a favor and consider it a side-effect of our stressful situation. You're each attempting to force your own definitions on an entirely alien agenda. Why do you assume that the Predators' motives would even make sense to us? They must be far more willing to sacrifice themselves than we are, or they'd have never sent one of their own on an almost certainly suicidal mission. Why are they keeping cloaked when they have to know we're already aware of them? You should stop and consider that their reasons may simply be inscrutable to us. Lose the attitudes!"

"What are we supposed to do now?" Stanford desperately asked.

"Your jobs; your assignments haven't changed and they are actually more important than they were only moments ago," the director steadily replied. He then paused, looking around, before asking, "Where's Tan?"

Almost as if in response to his question, his com-link chimed; and as he answered it, Tan's voice could be heard saying, "The remains from the Alien Queen that was killed by the Predator are no longer in the locker. I don't' know how it was accessed. I can see no sign of tampering. But we've now lost the last bit of our very expensive genetic samples."

"There may've been more than one Predator on the ship," Suki suggested. "I'm sure it wouldn't have been hard for an invisible observer to duplicate the pass-code."

"All we have now is the Griffin," Emilio summarized. Spinning then to confront Colin, he said, "Get down to the worksite and visually verify that nothing appears to have been tampered with. I want that ship finished and fully functional just as promptly as possible."

As Sangria, with Tan right beside her, came walking into their area, she addressed her question to Emilio, asking, "Since the eggs are no longer aboard, do you want me to go with him?"

"I want you both to go with him. Eleanor and Suki, you too," he answered. "I seem to remember being told that there might be some kind critical threshold crossed when we put the last piece of the hull into place. Since the ship might really represent a type of life form, we'd better have the experts on hand in case it's about to wake up. The Centaur is not actually underway, so I see no conflict in having every available Artificial at the site."

Eleanor caught the look of longing that Jamul and Suki exchanged. She could relate to the sense of separation they were experiencing since she and Colin had been forced to face it so many times. She tried hard to think of a reason to ask Emilio to let the stellar cartographer accompany them, but none came to mind. She knew that eventually, if their efforts were successful, the two would both be assigned to the Griffin. But until then, she feared that they would simply have to be patient.

Turning smartly about, Emilio then led the way out of the lab. At a substantially less ambitious pace, everyone finally followed; even though Jamul, Stanford, and Emilio each ultimately turned aside, out in the adjoining corridors, as everybody else headed towards the nearby shuttle bay.

"Perhaps I'm being overly optimistic, it certainly wouldn't be the first time," Suki said, after the two groups had parted company, "but I think there're reasons to believe that the Predators were really only interested in the parasitoids. Now that the Alien Queens have been abducted, the eggs have been annihilated, and the only remaining genetic material has been commandeered; we may've seen the last of them."

"That's pretty funny, considering that we never really saw the first of them," Sangria surprised everybody by humorously observing. She then became very serious by saying, "Since they haven't acted against Poole or any of the rest of our team, it certainly seems logical to conclude that they're not opposed to the Griffin's construction. Hopefully, they'll be equally disinterested in its operation."

Deciding to run the risk of putting such a loaded question to an Artificial, Suki asked, "Sangria, in your estimation why would the Predator have thought it necessary to destroy the Somnambulist?"

The Artificial female suddenly stopped in her tracks, turning to face the exobiologist, as she asked in reply, "Are you sure you want to go there?"

"We're all groping in the dark for answers here," Eleanor interjected. "Maybe it's time for a more objective approach. I think we'd really appreciate an unbiased opinion. Please share your insights."

"The Predators aren't trying to protect you," Sangria stated matter-of-factly. "They've no concern for human life. They're already responsible for over half a dozen deaths. The only conclusion to which I can come is that they're trying to prevent something; however, it's not as simple as the spread of the alien. Their concern has to do with something that would be compromised by such a spread. Humanity is somehow associated with it. This is why they've elected not to communicate with us. The information they'd have to share would not elicit our assistance but would only serve to make us actually combative. This is why they destroyed the Somnambulist. Something took place onboard that ship which convinced them that we couldn't be counted on when it came to containment."

"But why wait?" Eleanor asked. "If it was in there with the eggs all that time, why did it wait to destroy them?"

"There's some kind of honor in their approach," she replied. "They respect the alien."

"But they don't respect its right to reproduce?" Tan asked incredulously.

"Their respect in that regard is situational," Sangria replied. "And there's something about our situation that doesn't match their criteria; specifically, they just don't want it to reproduce with us. At least, they don't want it to reproduce with us here and now."

"Why not?" Colin tensely asked.

"That is the question upon which I'm focusing all my cognitive efforts," Sangria said in reply. "Everything, including whether they'll elect to interfere with the Griffin, hinges on its answer. We've stumbled into something incredibly convoluted. We have yet to identify all the factors, which makes their resolution approximately impossible. Even though I am hesitant to make the suggestion, it might have to do with the Architects' suspected ability to travel through time."

"How so?" Eleanor pressed.

"Without additional data, this is simply speculation," Sangria replied, "but it might be that a premature encounter between humans and the parasitoids could somehow end up compromising what the Predators consider to be the past. This would involve a temporal paradox, so I fully comprehend how problematic it is. However, it is the only scenario I've been able to derive so far that actually seems consistent with their bizarre behavior."

"How could we possibly compromise a time-line through a premature encounter with the parasitoids?" demanded Tan in the same incredulous tone he had used before.

"They have the potential to wipe out the human race," Sangria responded. "Perhaps humanity has yet to do something that the Predators deem important. This would explain why they're only willing to kill the alien when it's about to use a human as a host."

"But that brings us back to their seemingly barbaric beliefs with regards to honor and respect," Colin complained. "What you are describing sounds like the culture of a warrior race. I don't see how it is that we're going to do something as a race that they'd consider worthy of their respect when, from everything you've said so far, it sounds to me like the only thing they respect is the alien."

Tan saw what he believed had been a flash of insight in Sangria's artificial eyes; but when she said nothing in response to the engineer's argument, he elected not to ask her about it.