Big thanks to G-Mado for helping me on this one. Way to go, dude, couldn't have done it without you!

Chapter 7

Host

1

Ever since the Fall, both of her Hive and the world itself, she had suffered in mind and body, but being what she was, it was the former that had taken the worst punishment. It was like having a permanent headache, and each day she woke to find it still there, her mental barriers began to rip and tear under all her mistakes.

Inflicting harm on herself hadn't done much, her body was just a numb shell at this point. Burying her memories hadn't worked either. It was only after her Hive had been destroyed did she finally gather the strength to try and force all of it down. All the good memories were outnumbered by the bad, and she wanted to be a mindless, feral being. She just did not care at this point. She wanted to be free of this nightmare. She wanted to move on to whatever afterlife the Galaxy had in store for her.

She considered herself lucky that she was able to force down her past. And just when she was beginning to put this ability into actions, the Queen's that came before her, her psionic guiders that had helped her now and then throughout her youth, but never to the point where she had to rely on them, begged her to see reason.

You cannot simply forget what has happened to you, or what you have done.

Watch me.

You will destroy yourself.

I don't care anymore.I have no one, I have nothing. I just want to die.

You are wrong.

What do you know about me? You're dead! You died a thousand years ago. Why can't you just let me join you?

There is still so much you could learn from us, and pass on.

I slaughtered my own young! All I can pass on is death! If you can't teach me to bring them back, I don't want your help.

We can teach you to live again.

Go away!

Don't do this, little one. You will only made things worse.

How could things be any worse than this?

She didn't wait for an answer. She pulled a mental sheet around her mind. She could feel the consciousness of the previous Queen's prodding at the back of her mind, and they were weakening as she pushed them away. In the past she had begged them for advice countless times. And now they were nothing more than wordless whispers, buried under proverbial mountains of stupid intentions.

She had closed up. She had done exactly what they had warned her of. She'd fought back against her own instincts, and then when she was most desperate for advice, and needed guidance? She'd had no one to turn to. Her most powerful resource wanted to help her and she had snuffed it out.

And so she had destroyed herself, and suffered for it, and she had blamed said suffering on the Queen's for leaving her out to dry, hypocrisies and double-standards be dammed.

But they hadn't left her, had they? The Pull. A force, drawing her to her destiny. She had been so ungrateful, cursing them in every way she knew and still, they had offered her assistance. Bringing back one or two memories for her to dote on, showing her visions of a time long gone. They could have, as they said, given her hundreds of years of lessons, but she had closed herself off for too long and too hard, that it would be many years until proper exchanges could be made again. If ever.

She'd always blamed others for her sad existence. Humans, her daughters, the other Queen's. It was the easy way out, and she had tempted too easily to go down that path. Maybe it was time she started changing that. Maybe it was time to stop being such a damn coward and started trying to live.

She followed the Pull like her life depended on it. Day and night, she galloped along the path set before her, throwing caution to the wind. A rumble in the air caused her to look up in her travels. There was a broiling mass of clouds gathering to the south, a darker shade of grey than the rest of the sky. A storm, and a pretty big one at that. She guessed it would arrive in a week, maybe more.

But this was no ordinary storm, like the ones from before the Fall, where good memories lay. Whatever machinations the collapse of the world involved, the environment had shifted to compensate. The last time she'd been in a Fall Maelstrom as she called it, she'd almost died, and if that didn't explain her swelling fear as she gazed to the angered clouds, nothing would. She had to move.

Faster. Come on.

Her muscles flexed and moved and complained, sending jolts of pain up her scrawny body. She ignored them. She'd sat around moping long enough by now, and wouldn't stop until she found out what her predecessors were trying to show her. The locket around her neck swayed from shoulder to shoulder as she bobbed along hastily.

She hacked and slashed with her tail, cutting through the foliage overgrowing the ancient road. The countryside was slowly being absorbed into the dense packs of oak and pine. The forests were taking back lost land, albeit very slowly. Maybe she was far enough away from the Fall's corruption to see a glimmer of hope in all this. Or maybe that was just her love of nature clouding her vision. The forests had been her very first home, after all.

Once, during her earliest days, she had encountered a human living out in the woods. He was a big man, with huge arms and a thick beard. He was wielding a great red axe in both hands, and swinging it back and forth as he hacked away at a tree trunk. She'd stumbled into the clearing carelessly, her young and frail form bumping right into the man's knee. She'd fallen onto her back and screeched in fear.

The lumberjack had cried out a number of vulgarities, poised his weapon above his head, preparing to strike her. The great sun was right over his tanned face, casting a corona of light over his scruffy hair that dazzled her senses. It was a horrible sight that made her think for the first time in her post-escape, developing life, that she was going to die.

It was how she felt now, when she arrived at her ultimate destination, where the Pull had been taking her to all this time.

The road jutted off to the right, ended in a rectangular carpark. A few SUV's and sedan's littered about the lot, matted with rust after ages of sitting in the open, forgotten. Adjacent to the carpark was a large, grey building overgrown with vines. Solaris' sun shone over the lip of the roof, casting a dazzling light that put this side of the building in shadow.

Two broken windows placed above the front, run-down entrance, gave the structure the appearance of a gaping, nightmarish monster that seemed to watch her as she quickly backed away.

She cowered behind the wreck of a car, her tail between her legs. A white noise pierced her ear-holes as she clutched her knees against her chest, a terrible feeling of dread swelling inside her heart. She was absolutely terrified of this place, like it would stand up on two legs and lumber after her. That was because… because…

I've been here before.

But she couldn't shed any further light on that fact. She had buried so many of her memories, too much of a coward to face them. How much damage had that really done? She couldn't even remember her own name! And if she was willing to carry on this existence, not bothering to bring the burden with her, then she really was too far gone, wasn't she? Why not just curl up and accept her fate right now?

Because someone needs me.

Was that the Queen's telling her that? Her subconscious? Both? Did it matter? She'd promised she'd be better, back at the gas station. Now came the test to see if she really meant it, that she was going to take some responsibility for once, and face one of her greatest fears yet.

Fighting against every one of her instincts telling her to flee, she slowly got to her feet, and took tentative steps towards the structure. Her imagination ran wild as she peered up at the looming walls. Things seemed to move in the windows she wasn't looking at, and her body screamed at her to not go any closer. But her mind willed her on. She looked like she was tethered between two opposing points, fighting which direction she wanted to go as she approached.

I can do this. I have to.

Her toes squirming against the cobblestone, she took a long breath, held it in her chest, and walked into the lobby. Streams of light crept in through cracks in the ceiling, pried apart by mother nature's influence. There were four entrances splitting off in various directions. She would explore all these halls in the coming hours, but for now, the Pull directed her to the front desk.

Three of her arms crossed over her breast, she flicked at one of the computer power buttons, trying to distract herself from how the walls seemed to be closing in all around her. Thunder rolled by in the distance, making her look back at the entrance. She felt squeamish in here, and not just because her frame was too big. In fact, she didn't even need to hunch in order to move around. There was something else in here, a presence. Opposite of what she'd felt in Rose and Stu's home, which was warm and welcoming even in its apocalyptic state. In this place it was just… cold. No other way she could put it.

The computer groaned to life, asked her for identification. She looked at the keyboard for a long while, seeing things no human eye could see. There were a few keys on the keypad slightly more used, and after pressing them with a nail, entering countless combinations for a long time, she logged in.

She typed in Rose and Stu's name into the database, and the little words told her to search safe box number 72, in the room behind her. The computer did her courtesy by unlocking it with a distant click.

She moved over, and stood before a wall of cabinets, numbered from 1 to 100. The humans were so orderly, everything had to be neat, filed and documented. She clicked her inner mouth, wondering if they were so orderly because that was one of their ways of suppressing their chaotic nature.

I'm overthinking. Again.

Huffing, she went over to cabinet 72, and opened it. Inside were dozens of folders and containers, colour coded, as well as in alphabetical order. She let the Pull guide her fingers to the one she wanted, and clasped around a plastic bind.

She blew a puff of air from her chops, wiping away the gathered dust across the file. The echoes of the past were coming to her senses once again, and she had a feeling that this would be the last time. How she could know that, but not many other more important things, was another mystery hidden in the depths of her psychology, that would take her hundreds of years to explore, and even then, would never fully understand.

She heard a mother, crying out for a lost infant, as her palm rested on the back of the folder. There were half a dozen documents settled within, behind a few small slips of paper. She read over each one, putting them aside as she failed to grasp what the words meant, at least on the surface. The final page was signed by two certain individuals the Queen had become somewhat intimate with these past weeks.

A gruff voice giving the go ahead to an operation. She glanced over her shoulder just in case someone was there, but of course there was no one. This place had been abandoned years ago, the voices even more so.

With two fingers she plucked the small slips out of the folder. There were five boxes, all in a row, and inside each one was a fingerprint in defined, inky detail. There were three slips altogether, and it was the smallest fingerprint set the Queen took great interest in.

Plucking one of the accompanying containers, she produced a few vials of blood, all labeled with three different names. Before she could read them all, her eyes were filled with a white flash, and when it cleared, she found herself looking through eyes not of her own. She watched a woman climb out of an automobile. She looked somewhat distraught, like she was having…

2

Rose was having second doubts about this. Again. But it seemed Stu had run out of patience with her, because he didn't even give her so much as a hand-squeeze when they pulled up to the lot and turned the engine off.

Up ahead and to the left, was their destination they had been driving for since the early hours of this very morning. By now the sun had arched high into the sky, casting bright, healthy streams of light down on the surrounding forests. Autumn leaves see-sawed through the air. One landed on the hood of the car.

Rose had always scoffed whenever she watched a movie or read a book about haunted places, wondering how one could be scared of inanimate objects. But this place terrified her. It was as if she were descending upon Salem's Lot and coming up the driveway of the Marsten House. Even without the knowledge of what would happen inside, Rose thought she would still feel that way nevertheless. Everything from the black windows to the silent, encroaching forests, just projected this feeling of wrongness.

Her door opened, and Stu stood there, staring at her with no expression. No happiness, no fear, just… nothing. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing – that their marriage days were numbered, and that the vows they had taken were nothing more than hollow words.

He offered a hand, but she brushed it aside, stepping out, grabbing their son and cradling him, before closing the door. Steeling herself, Rose adjusted her grip on her child – who was looking between his parents like a spectator at a tennis game – and walked up to the building.

There were three people waiting outside. Two of them were identical, dressed in combat armour, rolling their shoulders and adjusting big guns in their gauntleted hands. The third was so peculiar Rose's brave façade slipped for a moment. She was a rather tall woman for her youthful appearance, tugging at the sleeves of her officer garments with long fingers, each one capped in bright green nail polish.

When Rose and Stu came up to her, Nail Woman flashed them a toothy grin, splayed her hands out in welcome. "Ah, the Donavan family, late as always!"

"We're sorry," Stu said, holding out a hand. For a moment Rose thought he was going to blame her for the delay, but instead he explained with: "Traffic."

If the woman saw through this lie she did not show it, shaking the offered hand. "Well, as long as you're here, that's all that matters. Stu, wasn't it?" She turned to Stu's significant other without waiting for a confirmation. "And you must be Rose. Zofia Willow, we spoke over the phone a few weeks back?"

"Right. General Willow? It's nice to meet you." They shook hands, Zofia's long nails wrapped almost the entire length of Rose's palm. She suppressed a shiver.

"Well, actually it's Lieutenant-General now, but…. one day, right? Come on, let's go get the ball rolling."

Rose sneered at how flippantly Willow was referring to this whole thing, but followed after her all the same. The two guards flanked the couple the whole way, little garbles of static slipping from their helmets every now and then.

The doors irised open for the five of them, and slammed shut with an unusually ominous sliding of metal. Rose might have been paranoid, but she could have sworn she heard tumblers lock, like the act of this very morning had been sealed, and would commence no matter how much she wanted it to not.

She clutched her child to her chest and moved to the front counter.

"I know we've all gone over it a hundred times, but a signature from both parties is still required." Willow nodded to the clerk, who presented a folder. The General flicked through the pages inside, grinning all the while. There was something so creepy about the General, but maybe that was just her unusually vibrant nail colour choice. "It's all in here, word for word. Go over it if you want, but why not save time and just go for it, eh?"

Willow produced a pen and clicked its top, offering both it and the contract to Stu. Her husband didn't even have the gall to pretend to read over the conditions, before he flicked to the last page and signed it. He appeared to visibly relax, now that he had signed his fate in ink. Rose never hated him more in that moment, and decided later, when she was many worlds away from here, that this was the moment she decided to divorce him.

"Here, honey." Stu held out the pen and paper, but while still holding her son, Rose had no way of accepting it. Neither did she want to, either, shuffling backward a tad like the contract would come to life and bite her.

"I'll hold the little guy." Willow held out her ivory nails and reached for the boy. "I've got kids of my own. What was his name again?"

Rose reacted so violently she almost dropped her son, thrusting him in the opposite direction of Willow. "Don't you touch him."

Willow raised her palms in surrender. "Look, Mrs. Donavan, it's alright! Our doctors are the best on the planet. We even brought in one of our most treasured scientists to help oversee the procedure. He really won't come to harm. Trust me."

"I'd rather trust a snake." Which is exactly what she looks like.

Stu tried to placate her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Honey it's alri-"

"Stop saying that!" she cried. One of the guards shuffled on his booted heel. "It's not alright! None of this is alright! We're giving up the only thing we've got left, Stu! And all you can say is that it's alright?!"

Stu raised a hand, opened his mouth to retaliate, when Willow beat him to it. "Your husband has already signed, Mrs. Donavan. We're too far to start second guessing now. All the transactions have closed, all the equipment and personnel are ready and waiting. You are the only loose end, and by God does Weyland not appreciate loose ends, Mrs. Donavan."

"You can't threaten me," Rose said, hating how weak she sounded. "Y-You can't. I…"

Willow waved a hand, clearly not in the mood for something she might have heard hundreds of times before. "I can see you still require more incentive. Maybe this will suffice?"

Willow nodded to the clerk, who typed away for a moment, before nodding. "There." Willow clicked her fingers. "Mr. Donavan? Would you check your bank account for me? Please?"

Stu quirked a brow. "Why?"

"Just check."

Stu pulled out his phone, and as he logged in, his features slowly lifted with every word and digit his eyes danced over. Rose didn't know what had him so beaming, and asked to see.

He practically stuffed his phone in her face in his excitement. Rose blinked and focused on the screen, and her jaw dropped too as the account summary came into focus. One giant number, with way too many zeros in it. All of it just…. there. With that kind of money…

Willow finished the thought. "With that kind of money you can be off this backwater planet before the end of the week! And that's only half the agreed amount, so just take a second to think about what you can do with all of it, Mrs. Donavan. All you need to do, is sign, and all three of you can be on your way after all is said and done, strings not included."

Rose thought about turning away, but would the guards try and stop her? It was hard to say. It was also hard to say no, because money had been the one thing she and Rose had been lacking for way too long. The government wouldn't help them, at least until they were literally out on the street, starving. The chains of debt had secured her into a shameful existence, and Weyland offered her a way out, and then some.

Would her son really blame her, when he grew up and found out about this day? He had to… right? It was all for him, anyway. At least, mostly.

"Honey?"

Stu, offering the contract. She gave him their son, and signed right next to his name, her expression that of someone who had been completely, utterly defeated. Shaking her head, she gave the contract back to the General, who flashed that creepy grin again.

"Perfect! Now we'll just take a few fingerprints, one or two blood samples, and then we'll get going."

They actually used ink plates, just like in the ancient times, which surprised Rose. She gently lifted up her son's tiny hand when it was his turn to print. He giggled as the cold liquid splotched his little fingers, and almost licked them clean before Rose quickly stopped him, the ghost of a grin on her face as she wiped his hand down with a napkin. It would be the last time she would ever smile again.

Willow lead them down a series of halls with a wave of her hand. "This way, you three!" But Rose found it hard to match her enthusiasm. The walls were made of a sort of alloy she'd never seen before, the kind of thing you'd see on the hull of a starship. Every panel was a dark, midnight colour, oversized bolts running across its surface. The smooth walls were only interrupted by the occasional door, each one would look more at home in a prison then this place.

"As you can see, our facility is state of the art." Willow sounded like she'd rehearsed this little speech. "None of our subjects have ever escaped, and our well-trained staff intend to keep it that way. Each room can be sectioned off at a moment's notice, and that extends to each level as well. I shouldn't be telling you this, but we've actually got a few fire squads on standby in the event of any… incidents. I wouldn't be exaggerating if I said you're standing in the most secured building on the entire planet."

"What's in here that's so dangerous?" Rose asked.

"Nothing that any of us have to worry about."

Rose expected an actual answer, but Willow left it at that. Rose supposed she would find out sooner or later, but if she actually wanted to, was a matter up for debate.

The walk didn't take as long as Rose wanted it to. She wanted to hold her son and treasure his presence before the deed was done, and the Donavan family changed forever. They came to the end of a corridor, where two men stood, turning to face them when the General came into view. One looked rather young, the other an almost polar opposite, a face so lined with drooping trenches he was stuck eternally frowning. Both were garbed in lab coats.

The older one greeted the General with a nod, before turning to the Donavan family. "Welcome, welcome. My name is Chris Wesley and I'll be overseeing the procedure. My star protégé Doctor Blankley here will be the head surgeon."

"Pleasure," Blankley said, shaking their hands. For the people who would be doing the main butchering, Rose sure found a strange fondness for these two.

The one called Chris clapped his hands, smiling a little. "So, where's the subject? The team is itching to begin."

Rose winced at hearing the term being used, and felt herself shrink as all present turned to face her. She dipped her head, and although her son was only six years old, his tiny, innocent stare was hard to meet. She leaned down and stroked him on the cheek.

"Mommy?"

"I… Mommy's going to hand you over to these men now, okay darling?"

"Don't go mommy."

She bit on her knuckle to hold back a sob. "I-I… look darling i-it's just for a little while, okay? I'll be right outside the whole time."

"Promsie?"

His casual mispronunciation almost broke her. "Yes. Yes, I promise."

The doctors, even Stu, shuffled uncomfortably, but whether this was at how long this was being delayed, or genuine sympathy for the distraught mother, she was not sure which. All that Rose knew, was that as she handed her son to Chris, it was like she giving up her very soul. To have a child was to bring the circle of life around again, to give back to the Galaxy. To pass on what you knew, so that nothing was forgotten. To make yourself whole, because nobody was whole without family.

That was how Rose saw it, anyway. And she had given it all up with a signature, and now, handing over her only child. Not permanently, but it certainly felt that way.

Chris handled her son with a small frown, as the child began to squirm. "Mommy? Daddy?"

"We can begin immediately," Chris said, turning to Willow for approval.

"Sooner the better, doctor. Good luck in there."

The pair of doctors turned, went through the door. Beyond its frame she could see various laboratory apparatus. Her son peeked over Chris' shoulder, extended out a small hand to reach out for his departing mother. Before Rose could get any more doubts, the blast door shut with a bang, sealed tight.

Willow looked at the couple apprehensively, started to shake her head. "I really shouldn't be doing this, but… if you two would want to watch the procedure, there is an observation room just through that door over there."

"No," Stu began.

"Yes." Rose cut him off. "This is our son, Stu. We're watching, and that's that."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, honey."

"I would have to agree with that," Willow said. "It can be… distressing, to see surgery, particularly when it's your own son…"

"I don't care what either of you say," Rose said. "And you stop calling me that," she hissed to her husband as she passed him.

The three of them entered the observation room, where a couple of other scientists had already taken their seats, notepads in hands. One wall was made up of glass, and through it she could see her own child resting on top of a bed, Chris standing over him giving the usual spiel about how everything would be fine, and he wouldn't feel a thing. Behind them, five other doctors were preparing various tools for the coming operation. One of the guards was standing by the eastern wall, next to something looked like a hatch door built into the wall. The way he fidgeted around struck Rose as unnerving.

Rose took a seat at the front, folding her arms. Stu sat next to her, and Willow next to him. Stu asked the General about the specifics of the operation, but Rose wasn't listening. She just watched as Blankley secured a mask to her son, and winced as the gas knocked him out in two quick breaths. Seeing that happen almost made her reconsider her choice to watch. Almost.

The least she could do was stick through it. She'd promised, after all.

Maybe ten minutes later, the doctors were all set, and after nodding to each other, exchanging a few words, they all turned and filed out of the room. Rose frowned at this, went to ask what was going on, when she noticed the guard was still present. One unperceived radio-call later, and the guard turned around, and opened the hatch he'd been stood next to the entire time.

An oval-shaped, organic mass extended out of the hatch, suspended on a metal platform. It was light green in colour, similar to the General's nail polish. Maybe that's where she'd gotten the idea. Rose didn't know exactly what this thing was at a glance, but one word came to mind that summed it up perfectly.

Egg.

The guard rushed to the other side of the room, bumping into a few pieces of medical equipment in his haste, joining the doctors as he left the room, and slammed the exit behind him. Rose didn't have time to ask just what was going on, before it all happened.

The egg was releasing off plumes of white mist, its surface appearing to wriggle as if it were alive. For a few long moments nothing happened, and then the top portion of the egg began to open.

It bloomed like petals of a flower, peeling away to reveal its interior, though from this angle Rose could not see inside. The egg squirmed more and more as something inside began to wriggle against the inside of the shell. Rose released a shriek of terror when some sort of inflated, arachnid shape began to lift itself out of the egg.

"It's alright!" Willow said, even though Stu should have been the one to reassure her. Her husband just sat there, flabbergasted. "The subject is totally harmless!"

Rose felt her body turn to ice as the spider-like creature lifted bony legs into the air, rested them on the outer hull of the egg, and brought its body into the laboratory lights. It's dark hide was littered with all sorts of ridges and bumps, and a wickedly long tail trailed out behind it as it tentatively moved down the side of its egg.

Its webbed feet touched the floor, and even though it lacked any sort of eyes that Rose could see, the alien creature slithered in the direction of her unconscious son. The other observers watched on in fascination, and Rose almost screamed at them to do something, as she lifted from her seat on the verge of having a panic attack.

Before she could do anything, hands pressed on her shoulders. Stu held her down before she could lash out. "We knew what was going to happen, Rose. It's okay. He'll be alright!"

She couldn't muster anything more than a moan as she crossed her arms about herself, feeling goosebumps all over her skin. The alien slowly climbed up one of the legs of the bed, towards her son. When it got onto the bed proper, one of the legs pushed aside the mask her boy was wearing. There was something almost…. gentle, about the movement Rose found hard to believe, a deep contrast to its horrifying appearance.

Like a splaying hand, the alien moved its body over the child's face, tail swishing from side to side. Rose's knuckle found itself in her mouth as she bit down, watching the thing straddle his face, and lower. The knuckles on the legs clenched up over his ears, as the snake-like tail coiled once, twice, three times around his fragile neck.

If someone without prior knowledge with what was, or would, happen within the next few hours were to see this, they would be justified to plead for someone to get the alien off the boy's face. But it had all been known many months ago, as well as in the contract, every detail. And Rose knew that all these people had to do was wave that signature in her face to shut her up. So she did them a favour and just whimpered in Stu's arms.

But she found no more comfort in her husband's embrace. Not anymore. And as she watched the alien have its way with her own child, she would never forgive Stu for driving them here, and most certainly, would never forgive herself for being swayed by something so filthy as money.

A long while later, the spider-alien scurried into one of the corners of the room, curled up, and stopped moving. She came to the conclusion it was dead when the doctors came back into the room, no longer frightened. They hooked up all sorts of machines to her son, sticking in needles and tubes and, when her son actually started to wake, morphine to keep him in a dull state of mind.

But Rose couldn't help feel that her son was watching her. Even through the one-way glass, and all the drugs pumping into him. Why Weyland wanted him to be the subject was lost on her. Weyland experimented every which way imaginable. She wouldn't be surprised if all age groups had been succumbed to this procedure before, and probably, after today.

Seeing him hooked up to all those tubes and pipes, was just as worse as when the alien had been hugging his face. She'd never imagined it would be this bad to look at, but she made herself watch. Watch what her own personal freedom had cost. How could she ever look at her son again and not see this day replay over and over again?

The doctors kept the monitors hooked up, but after fifteen hours, it was time for them to get some rest. Willow told them there was a room available a few levels down for them to rest in. Rose didn't take it, even when Stu tried to persuade her. She would stay by her son's side, she would never catch a wink of sleep until he was back in her arms again.

"I admire you, you know," Willow said, sitting beside her. They were the only people in the observation room. Her son's chest was bigger, now, a new life growing within his ribcage.

"For what?" Rose asked.

"Sticking with him, of course."

"Stu, or our son?"

"Both," Willow chuckled. "I know this is hard on you, and you've got your reasons, but if it's any conciliation, you're doing humanity a great service. You and your son. The data we've gathered already will keep my superiors occupied for years to come. Maybe I'll be a General after all, wouldn't you agree?"

"Sure," Rose said, not really interested.

"I'm sure I can trust in you and your husband's discretion, after we've parted ways, but in the matter of the subject in question, I have my doubts."

"He won't say a word," Rose assured. "No Donavan will spill your secrets, General. Lieutenant General, sorry."

"Not to say that your word isn't enough for me, but your son he's… He may not be of the same mind when he's all grown up. My own kids have got pretty big mouths, themselves. But there is a solution you might be interested in hearing."

"What is it?"

"Not many people remember when they were six, but some do, especially the more… distressing scenarios. We can keep him unconscious for a while, but we also have several, both intrusive and not, options to help erase this part of his memory. It's all experimental and we haven't tried it on humans yet, so it might not work, and it might cause some serious damage, but it's very plausible we could find some success in making sure he remembers none of what happened today. After all, if he found out his own parents… well, I'm sure you know what I am implying."

"That I sold off my own flesh and blood as an experiment?"

"That… could be put more eloquently. But yes. I'm just laying out the options for you."

Rose could imagine it now. Ten or so years in the future, her own child grown up, completely traumatised by her actions today. And all of it would be blamed on his own parents, selling him off to be a shady corporation's plaything. Rose would never be strong enough to bear that pain, and having her own son become hostile to her would not help. Who wouldn't curse their parents for subjecting them to this, when they were barely old enough to consent, let alone comprehend most things?

Rose, who had agreed to only let death part her from Stu, who had treasured the day her only son was born, who had spoiled and pampered him all throughout his young life, chose the cowards way out.

"Do what you can, General. Please."

"As you wish."

In the early hours of the following morning, her son began to contract violently. Writhing this way and that as something poked against his ribs from the inside. The doctors were there in a flash, quickly sedating the boy as they prepared a number of surgical implements. Muffled, excited voices exchanged between the surgery team as a rounded blade was placed directly over the boy's chest.

Rose forced herself to watch as the blades cut him open, and she considered asking Willow if those memory-wipe options could apply to her as well.

Her lower lip slowly began to quiver as a metal claw reached inside her son's chest, rummaged for a bit, then retracted within its cold grasp, another alien. It had a long, crescent-shaped head attached to a slim, spindly body, and its tail was so long it was a wonder it had fitted inside the boy's body for so long without damaging any of his organs.

Rose almost felt sad for the creature as it squealed and writhed, and she would have, if her child's blood wasn't dripping off its shoulders and tail. The claw placed it inside a metal cage, but the creature quickly darted out of the confinement, small legs taking it in the direction of her son. Probably intending on gutting him, the way it lashed out at the guard that got in its way.

"W-What is that thing?" Rose asked, her lips barely moving. Willow took on that rehearsed-speech tone again.

"Subject EM4. Xenomorph Queen. You've probably heard the stories about them. We won't be making any mistakes with this one. We'll inject it with growth suppressors among other stimulants to keep it docile, and then we'll run some… well, I digress. If I had to run through every experiment we've got in mind, we'd be here all night, and I know you'll be eager to get going now that we've both got what we want. The rest of the funds will be transferred, but you're welcome to stay here for as long as you like, so your son can have some recovery time."

"That would be best, I think," Stu said.

Rose had to agree, even though she wanted to put this whole planet behind her as soon as possible. After the little alien was carted away deeper into the facility, the surgery team fixed up her son's chest. After the longest hours of her life, Rose was finally able to hold her son again. They took him down to their assigned room, tucked him into bed, and waited for him to wake.

But when he did, he ask one of the strangest things Rose would think about until the end of her life.

"Where is she?"

Stu's brow raised at that, stuttering out an answer. "M-Mommy's right here, see?"

But the boy only looked at his mother, and asked the same question again. "Where is she?"

Rose held his hand and squeezed. "No, no I'm… I'm right here, sweety. Like I promised, remember? Mommy said she would, didn't she?"

Precious strength held her hand back, but Rose could not smile. All she could see was his chest spurting blood, and a horrible, nightmarish creature coming out of the cavity. It was a sight that would haunt her forever.

Her son continued to act… strange, in the following days. Once or twice he tried wondering out in the halls without supervision, and Rose would have to find and scoop him up in her arms. "Don't you ever run away like that!" she had said, but he'd only given her this strange, blank look, like she was the crazy one.

She and Stu weren't always awake, or around, to keep him from wondering off. Once he'd snuck off in the night, only to be found by one of the guards patrolling the halls. Stu had given him more than an earful for that, but the boy didn't seem the least bit fazed.

On another occasion, her son was staring at the wall, head cocked to one side. It was like something out of a horror movie, the way he just… looked at nothing for minutes at a time. The only variable these events had in common was the fact he was always oriented to the east. It was like he was looking at something far away out there.

"What're you doing up so late, sweety?" she'd asked rhetorically, finding him up and walking about one late night, before ushering him back to his bed. His answer was shocking enough to almost make her slip on the carpet.

"Listening."

"Wh… What?" Rose cleared her throat. Any other time she would have normally given him a dismissive response, like oh that's nice, but the concept of normal no longer applied to her anymore, after her son had had an alien growing inside of him, so instead she decided to ask further. "Listening to… what, sweety?"

"Her!"

"W-what? Who?"

"Her, mommy!"

That was it. She'd had enough of this place. Whether Weyland had done something in the surgery, or God forbid, that alien had somehow traumatised him, she didn't care. She wanted out. Stu was more than eager to get going as well, though they had one last thing to discuss before they did.

"Willow told me about some sort of memory-wipe thing," Stu told her. They were sitting on the bed together. "I think we should do it. Just in case."

Rose had been eager at first, but now that she'd had some time to think on it, what sorts of 'side effects' could a memory wipe do? Especially to one so young? "I… I don't know, Stu…"

"No parent should have to watch their kid's chest get cut open." Stu rubbed his forehead. The surgery had scarred him, obviously. That impatient man that had woken her up that morning was long gone. "Christ, a fucking alien grew inside of him! What kind of people are we?"

You were all too eager to get going earlier, she wanted to scream, but she still pushed his buttons in another way. "The kind of people who don't deserve a beautiful boy like him." She held back a sob. "I don't know what we're going to do when he's older. What if it doesn't work, and he still remembers? He'll hate us, Stu. Absolutely hate us."

"I… I might have an idea. We leave."

"What good will that do? Our son will never forgive us even if we dropped everything."

"That's something we're going to have to live with, but I said that we leave. Not… not him."

"Stu! W-We can't just leave our own son! Weyland would keep him in here, run more tests on him, do all sorts of horrible things."

"I'm not saying leave him here. I've got this old friend from college who's into real estate. We can get him a house somewhere in the city, away from all this. God knows we've got the money for it now."

"You're talking about abandoning him!"

"It's not abandoning! We'll pay him over the Net, hundreds of thousands of dollars. He'll never want for anything. We'll get him a good education, weekly payments, send him letters every couple weeks!"

Rose went to open her mouth to argue, but instead found herself being swayed once more. "But… But he'll be alone, Stu. Who's going to take care of him?"

"We'll stay with him for some time, of course, but after that I'll make sure my friend checks on him regularly. And he won't be alone, Rose. We'll keep in touch."

"I don't know, Stu. I just don't know anymore."

"Do you know that you'll be able to look him in the eye, and tell him we sold him off to be impregnated. Do you know if you'll be strong enough to do that?"

"I… no. I'm never strong enough."

But later on in life, when she divorced him and took a little more than half the Weyland money, she was certainly strong enough then. In the other room, the topic of said conversation gently rose their son out of one of the most pleasant dreams he'd ever had, though they had no idea of this of course. The parents had him get dressed, and after double-checking their shared bank account, eyes glazed over the biggest amount of money either had ever had before, they made for the exit.

"One last thing," Willow had said, meeting them in the lobby. "Those options we talked about earlier? About his memory? You still want to go through with that, just in case? It shouldn't take long, ten or fifteen minutes."

Rose and Stu looked at each other. They had discussed this topic long and hard, and had both came to the same conclusion. "Just in case," Rose said, and surrendered her boy one last time, but not before raising him up and planting a kiss on his head.

"My little boy. I'm going to hand you over again, okay? It'll only be for a second, promise. It'll all be better soon, everything will be back to normal. We'll go home, we'll give you everything you could ever want or need. W-We'll send you to the best school, pay for your own home! Doesn't that sound exciting?"

Her son looked at her with a wondrous expression, although he barely understood much of what she said.

"My little Maddox. I'm so sorry. Your father and I… you'll never know how much it hurts to put you through this, all for our sake. But with a bit of luck you'll forget."

"Don't want forget."

"You do. You'll understand one day. I hope you will. I love you. And I'm sorry."

Stu rubbed his son's head with a knuckle. "We both are, son. We both are."

They handed Maddox over again, but Maddox would never understand. And his parents would leave him before he could fully comprehend what exactly they had been sorry for.

After the wipe, which was hard to tell if it had worked at all, the Donavan's got in their car, and drove away. Willow watched them back out of the lot and disappear into the forest. It would be the last time she saw Stu and Rose, but not the boy. He'd be a little older when they next met, but still just a boy.

The dream, the memory, soon faded.

3

… Maddox?

Maddox…

She knew that name, didn't she? No, surely another slip of the mind.

And yet…

And yet nothing.

She curled up on the floor of the very room the Donovan's had rested inside, her tail laying along the cot the boy had slept in during their stay. This place… this was where she had been born! It was no wonder she had been so distraught when she first spotted it all those hours ago. Already its tainted presence was prodding the back of her mind, old wounds surfacing and making her skin itch.

But through all the horrors this place had thrusted on her, there was one lone ray of light. A name, and one with much personal power.

Maddox…?

No, she did know that name. The more she repeated it in her mind, the more the Queen's body began to lift from the floor. She could recall a secluded nest in the forests. A dome of leaves. A street called Ralto. A youthful boy, walking in the rain…

Maddox.

The word reminded her of warmth, comfort, an old friend who had come into her life, then had been taken away by one of the very people who was responsible for her creation.

Her Host, and Maddox, were one in the same!

And hadn't she had always known that, ever since meeting him on that rainy night? How obvious it had been! How they just... connected, and Bonded so easily. The fact was staring her right in the face and it was her fault she had not realised it then and there!

Walking this lab in the shadow of Rose had slowly brought back ancient memories she had drowned out for obvious, yet stupid reasons. And now it all came flooding back, like water through a broken dam. Weyland Yutani had injected her with all sorts of malformities, mutations. In these very walls she had been subjected to experiments and deformities.

So perhaps… there was a cure to be found?

She used the name like an ember, holding it out to the darkness of the lab as she fumbled through its depths. Yet no matter how many hours she spent wondering this broken, evil place, nothing remained but bad memories. That cage over there? She'd called that her fist nest, once. This chamber was where her tail had been cut off, regrown, then cut again. This was the duct she had snuck into in order to close the distance to her Host.

Maddox…

How cruel of Rose to wipe his mind of her! What a coward she was for not looking her son in the eye when she gave him up like she did! The Queen hissed, planted her heel in the nearest wall to leave a large dent there.

What kind of mother tortured her own young all for the sake of her wellbeing?

Someone like me.

… No. No, not like me! I am not like Rose!

It was hard to imagine another mother could be so much worse than the Queen, and she would not see herself sink to that new low. The Queen had made mistakes, yes, but with this new knowledge in hand… it had not been her fault entirely, had it? Without Weyland, she may have considered herself to be… normal.

But maybe she could be normal. And she finally knew just how that might be accomplished.

Maddox.

That was what the Hive-memories had been leading her to. To him. Rose had told herself that to have a child was to give back to the universe. Pass on what you knew. And that nobody was whole, without a family.

That was her key. Maddox. The boy she had forgotten twice over. Her other half, in a way. How much of a fool she was for suppressing him! But no, she had to stop thinking like that. She would burden the blame, yes, but now she had something she could do to not only ease it, but perhaps lift it.

For the first time in a long time, spirit was in her body as she sprinted out of the horrible lab and into the daylight. She couldn't stand one more moment in these evil, evil halls any longer. Not when light shone on her clouded mind for the first time in years! Dwelling so long in the dark, made her practically radiate energy as she began the first steps of lifting herself out of her self-induced pity.

She tripped over when she returned to the front lobby in her haste, and she chuckled at her clumsiness, remembering how she did that a lot during her early days. If she had eyes, she would have blinked at that. She actually chuckled. She'd forgotten what that was like, and it was an alien sound she wanted to do again.

And she knew who could help her do that, didn't she?

Hissing at the jarring change of lighting, she moved out of the shadow of the building, and raised her crowned head to the skies. She mustered up all the concentration she could, mentally building up one single thought she poured her heart and soul into.

The thought was simple: Maddox. She balled her hands into fists, shaking on the spot as she pooled all of her mental energy into the lone word, and when she was ready, projected the thought in an outward direction.

Like a mental bomb, the shockwave of the thought travelled kilometers in every direction. As the psionic wave passed over what few creatures remained in the forests, mutated beyond recognition, they perked their heads up as an alien sensation washed over them, then passed as fast as it had come.

The wave travelled far and wide, rolling over hills and mountains and buildings until its influence waned with the distance. The Queen drummed her fingers against her hide, antsy.

Any moment now.

…

… But nothing came back.

Clicking her teeth, she moved over to the nearest tree, scampered up its trunk until she reached its bushy top. Brushing leaves from her crown, she gazed to the north, saw the tops of the Capitol gleam in the far distance.

The Queen grit her teeth, curled up as she concentrated, and released another wave.

Maddox!

The name echoed a hundred times, faded…. faded… died.

Then she waited. Ten minutes passed. Twenty. After a half hour, the wind brushing against her back from the encroaching storm, the Queen slumped atop the tree, buried her face in her hands. What had she been hoping for? Maddox had been captured a long time ago, so how could he have survived the Fall with little to no preparation? Her new mood slowly gave way to the old pessimist living inside her heart.

It was… hopeless.

She had finally found the name, hyped herself up, only to throw herself right back down again. She considered releasing one more wave… then thought better of it. She was alone, couldn't she see that? Everyone was dead. At least she would die out here, among the very nature that had protected her during her escape from the lab. She found some bit of irony there. Full circle. Life never went anywhere, it just curled around until you ended up right back where you started. Who was she to try and change that?

She was about to climb down when…

When there was a response.

Her gaze drifted to the north. It was weak, but it was there. One corner of her lips curled upward as someone sent her a reply. It was an image, in her head only for a moment, but she drew in a few details.

A group of humans, standing before her. A great iron door, an abandoned trainyard. A haven made by humans, for humans, constructed far beneath the ground. And through all that imagery was one cemented fact that made her snarl through her chops.

Maddox was alive.

But he was in trouble.

The Queen may have been too slow to save the last of her daughters, during the betrayal of the rebels, but she would not be too slow to save him. She just would not allow it. Not again.

I'm coming for you, Maddox.

She leapt off the tree to the next, and pushed herself to the absolute limit as she sprinted back the way she had come.

I'm not losing you again. Just hold on.