ALTERED STATES
by Petricor75
"We live in a monophasic society. But eastern and indigenous cultures were polyphasic", Steven Kotler
*.*
CHAPTER ONE
Eighteen weeks after the crash of the Auriga
"Get dressed, we need to leave, like now", the android bursts into Ripley's quarters, walking past her without waiting for an invitation. As if it were her habit to occupy that space. As if it's not the first time she's set foot in it. She's not sure she's managed to maintain a neutral voice tone. All the way from her area to the clone's, she mentally repeated to herself to stay distant, but when she found herself in front of her, the good purposes of just a little while before were already a remote memory. A bit of sourness probably seeped out of her manners.
"Good morning to you!", the clone replies sarcastically, in an attempt to mask some embarrassment that has little to do with the fact that she's still in her briefs and tank top and has a lot to do with the fact that they've practically not spoken to each other in months. She watches her jaw clench as she walks over to the closet and opens it with a firm gesture. She hoped this day would never come, but she knew it would, sooner or later. She walks over to Call and grabs a backpack and duffel bag, already packed from the top shelf.
"Well, great", the Auton comments, surprised that the past misfortune partner was already prepared for the eventuality. She stays nearby the entrance and watches her quickly slip on a pair of pants and lace up her boots. She slings her bag over one shoulder, just to keep herself occupied and not think about the fact that she'd want to punch her right in the jaw.
"What's going on?", Ripley asks, as she dons the heavy backpack and reaches for her. She had almost forgotten how tiny she was, and finding her so close and so small awakens a long-dormant tenderness. She feels like reaching out to touch her, brush her hand, her shoulder, give her a smile like she used to, but she knows it would be completely inappropriate at the moment.
"Just leave it open. Someone will be coming to clean up shortly", the android orders in a flat tone, quickly starting down the hallway. "The U.S.M. is on a routine recon in Southern California, we need to be out of here before they reach the San Francisco Bay", she adds, trying to stave off the surge of resentment towards her.
"Is the lab safe?", the woman asks, following her at a brisk pace.
"Sure. It's all been planned. It's already being taken care of. As soon as the emergency is over, they'll keep working on it and we can probably come back here. We'll figure it out eventually", the girl says, guiding her through the halls of the facility.
Ripley doesn't have the slightest doubt about it, she has seen what the nanorobots developed by the community are capable of, when, having arrived at the Base, they treated the huge wound on the young girl's abdomen.
Of course, working on hybrid DNA is very different, they had explained, but once all the genomic sequences to be deactivated have been identified, the treatment will take just a few hours.
Call suddenly stops and she ends up bumping into her, muttering an awkward word of apology. Another thing she'd forgotten is the vaguely fruity scent of her skin.
"A Hummingbird is waiting for us on the roof", the girl informs, placing her palm on the optical reader to call the elevator.
She had forgotten what it felt like to be hit by Ripley's moving mass. The contact reminded her for a moment of the furious descent with the Betty and the protective gesture with which the clone had shielded her. She grits her teeth, to push back the discomfort and anger of the last period. There is no time, now, to take it personally.
The elevator ascends quickly and within seconds the doors open onto a sunny, but extremely windy morning. The shores of Alcatraz Island are white with the froth of the waves, which attack it from every direction. -The tidal waves of the Bay never disappoint -, Ripley thinks.
It's her first time on a Hummingbird, she'd heard about it, and was curious to try it out, but she's never allowed herself time for that activity, since they took up residence in the community. Of course, she would have preferred to do it without an ongoing emergency.
This craft is nothing like the 21st century Hummingbird, except for the size. The vertical takeoff aircraft exceeds her in height by almost a meter, is compact and its shape extremely aerodynamic. The chrome-plated surface suggests one of its main characteristics, almost total invisibility, both to the bare eye and by current detection instruments.
A young man in his early twenties, impossible to tell whether human or Auton, jumps down from the hatch and waves to Call.
"She's ready, treat her right!", he declares with a smile.
Ripley scans the hull to read the name printed and emblazoned in small print. OLIVIA. She snorts a smile, following Call inside. Not only does she have to duck to get through the hatch, she has to keep hunching over to keep her head above the surface. The interior is claustrophobic. She hurries to sit in one of the two available seats so she can at least stretch her neck.
She turns to Call, who has taken care of her backpack and is busy cramming their luggage into the back, equipped with several shelves and a padded seat as wide as the aircraft.
She knows the young woman is tense. That's quite comprehensible, given the way she's been pushing her away and avoiding her since they arrived at the Base. The first few days she'd approached her, smiling, asking if she was settling in, if she was okay with the job she'd offered to do, if perhaps she'd like to join her group or have a chat with her. She had politely declined, every time. Without giving her any explanation.
As time passed, Call's attempts had thinned out, as her discomfort increased. Eventually, she had given up altogether, merely greeting her with a quick wave when she crossed her path somewhere, then immediately averting her gaze, as if she had preferred not to greet her at all. The clone is aware that it must be taking a lot out of her right now, to bear her presence and hold back a sure resentment.
"Where are we going?", she finally asks in a soft tone, as the Hummingbird lifts off the roof of the former prison and darts low to the east at subsonic speed.
"Amazon Rainforest, Venezuela, to be precise, we'll be hiding in plain sight, just saying. Have you ever seen a tepui?", she asks, sketching a half-smile and raising an eyebrow, then immediately becoming serious and focused, as if she's suddenly remembered that she's mad at her. She's not just tense or resentful, she's hurt.
The clone sighs, with an annoying lump in her throat, feeling like shit, not for the first time. She feels this way especially after she started studying the last two hundred years of history, wanting to delve into, who knows for what strange reason, especially the evolution of second generation androids, Recall included.
At the time of the attack on the Auriga, she had taken her for a little girl playing pirates, and her perception hadn't changed even after she learned she wasn't human.
How wrong she had been! After reading the records of the Autons, she had estimated that Call must have been between fifty-four, -the date the famous Recall-, and ninety-three, -the age of the first successfully created second generation androids-.
This meant, not only that the Company, Wall-Mart, the U.S.M. or who knows what other fucking ruthless organization, had been planning her cloning for at least fifty-four years, but that she had been "hunting" her for the same amount of years, probably scanning the various transmissions at more or less regular intervals, looking for clues that made her suspicious enough to want to investigate further, getting ready for the mission she had set out to accomplish, in an attempt to save the human race from itself.
Erase Ellen Ripley's ugly replica.
Call had spent the last fifty-four years of her existence waiting for the right moment to kill her. Then she had met her and rescued her, determining in a matter of hours that she was no longer a threat, despite her predatory personality traits and dangerous blood, taking pity on her at first, welcoming her into her community at last. Treating her like a friend, later.
Fifty-four years to hear, 'no thanks', 'I'm busy', 'I'm tired', 'I'm late', 'better not', 'another time'. But by the time she had realized all this, the young woman was already at the point of rushed hellos. Perhaps there was no point in going back anymore. She had been a coward. And she had felt like shit.
"No, what is it?", she asks. Actually, she knows exactly what a tepui is, she doesn't know how, but she does. She just doesn't want them to stay silent. Enough of this bullshit. Clearly it didn't work, even for the young woman.
"It's a flat-topped mountain, similar to the mesa's in Arizona, but of course, being in the Amazon Rainforest, it's covered with vegetation and sometimes springs and rivers, like the one we're headed to, Auyantepui. We need a place that offers shelter, but also resources, we don't know how long we will be cut off. They're hardly going to look for us down there, and even if they do find us, it's so tricky to get to that we'd have plenty of time to get away", Call explains excitedly.
"Tell me there aren't any mosquitoes!", the clone jokes, glad she managed to get a brief chuckle out of her. She missed her smiles, she has to admit.
"They won't sting you if they want to live! It's a different kind of wildlife we should be worried about!", the other replies as she veers southeast, shortly after flying over Yosemite. She tries to focus on flying the OLIVIA in an attempt to keep the conversation to a minimum. But she has a feeling she can't help herself. As if the months spent at the Base are already just a distant memory.
"It's beautiful, the view from up here!" the woman exclaims, looking down at the Sequoia National Park forest below. "What kind of wildlife are you referring to?", she asks later, noticing her traveling companion's silence.
"Well, probably big cats, snakes, and poisonous amphibians… but we don't really know much about it. Records relating to Earth's geography go back too long", Call says, as she keeps struggling with the two opposing forces within her that alternate trying to prevail over each other.
"Well, are you going to teach me how to fly this thing or not?", Ripley urges her, as if to regain a confidence lost with the months of separation. A confidence she feels she needs, to find the courage to make amends.
*.*
"Take it easy. Try to be more fluid, with the controls", Call gently places the palm of her hand over the clone's fist, which handles the joypad, effectively showing her what she means. It's strange, the physical contact with her. She would have expected to feel some discomfort, but she doesn't, and this is driving her mad.
"You need to be gentle with this baby", she explains, managing to push away the adverse reaction all too easily. She performs a few soft turns and yawing, to help familiarize her with Hummingbird's response.
"See, she's a sensitive baby, OLIVIA", Ripley snorts a smile, amused and relieved by her vaguely playful inflection.
With a little more help from the android, finally, after a little more than six hours of flight, Ripley manages to land the Hummingbird on Auyantepui, near a stretch of the Rio Kerepacupai Merù, where the two rivers join to create a widening of calmer waters, about a mile and a half southwest of Salto Angel.
Not having much time to set up camp before sunset, they get right to work. The suspended tent is set up about five feet above the ground, anchoring the three rods to the surrounding trees, stretching them to their fullest extent.
The inside is quite roomy, and since it is accessed from the bottom and the middle, all three sides of the shelter are fully usable, providing two sleeping spaces and a large area for the few pieces of luggage that will not be left on the flying vehicle.
*.*
"Wow! Where did you learn how to make a self-feeding campfire?", the android asks, reaching Ripley with two steaming metal bowls of hot soup.
"I don't have the slightest clue. All I know is that taken the machete I knew what to do and how to do it", the clone replies, thanking her with a look as she takes the OLIVIA's warming stove dinner in her hands.
"Well, at least we wouldn't have to spend the night worrying about it", the girl remarks.
"Yeah, I'll figure out a way to protect it better tomorrow. I suppose it will rain at some point", Ripley adds, warmed by the meal.
"We're not in the rainy season yet, but I assume it will happen, yes", Call confirms.
Now that they are free from the tasks they had set for themselves, an uncomfortable quiet falls between the two, who eat in silence, contemplating the flames in front of them.
Ripley watches the android playing with the edge of her pants. She needs to do something, anything, she can't expect this cumbersome awkwardness between them to vanish like magic!
"So, what have you been up to these past few months?", she asks in the most casual tone she's capable of, as she deposits the bowl on top of the one the young woman emptied moments before.
Call looks up at her, impossible to decipher her expression, but the woman knows instantly that she has chosen the wrong approach. And perhaps the moment as well.
"Are you fucking kidding me?", Call exclaims in a harsh tone.
"No, I-"
"Don't do that, Ripley", the young woman admonishes her with a bitter smile and glazed eyes.
"Don't what?", the other retorts dumbly, instantly regretting not preferring to keep her mouth shut.
"Trying to hook up and be all buddy-buddy at all costs!", the android replies, ready and bitter. "That's pathetic! It's not necessary. Save yourself the trouble. Just relax, I've had four-fucking-months to get the point! Let's not bullshit each other, okay?", she proposes, involuntarily raising her voice as she picks up the dishes and rises from the floor in a nervous movement.
The hybrid would like to reply something, anything, she wishes she could rewind the time reel and change several of her stupid calls. But she can't. So she lets her vent, trying to breathe normally and swallow her sorrow, surrendering to the evidence that, at least for now, Call doesn't want to hear arguments. And she certainly can't blame her.
"Let's just try not to step on each other's toes while we're stuck here together, and when we get back to the Base we'll each go back to our fucking lives, okay?", she suggests, trying to control her tears, along with all the things she'd like to spit in her face. She starts toward OLIVIA at a brisk pace.
"Call…", Ripley can't hold back one last, mournful attempt.
"Fuck you, Ripley!", Call dismisses her in a trembling voice, relieved, if nothing else, to turn her back on her so that she doesn't see the indecision in her gaze. She hurries to the shuttle and, crossing the threshold, slams the hatch behind her and angrily tosses the dishes into the tiny sink.
"Fuck you!", she repeats through clenched teeth in sobs. She drops onto the back seat breathing hard, leans against the wall behind her, hugs her knees and lets the tears flow freely, streaking her sweet visage.
The clone stays staring into the fire, a lone tear making its way down her chin as she absent-mindedly stirs the coals in the fire pit. A long, weary sigh escapes her mouth. She needs Call to understand that, as absurd as it is, her determination to push her away had a logic of its own, a wacky and totally random one, she realizes it now, but it did.
Maybe this situation can be a chance to fix it, she thinks. It's not enough for her to try not to step on each other's toes, and Call has just shown her that even for her it's not enough, as much as she wants it to be.