SEVENTEEN of THIRTY-TWO
*NOTE – Hello, everybody, it's me, TheManFromMudos. You know what they say: two months are better than six. Well, nobody says that. But it is true! I'm improving, and hopefully I can improve even more with the next chapter. But it's about time, I think, that I brought you chapter seventeen, a chapter which I feel is one of the major turning points of the story. I won't give anything away, you'll have to read it for yourself. But before you do, I'd recommend that you revisit the last chapter, as I've extended it significantly. This one was too long, that one was too short, so I balanced it out a little. Once you've read chapter sixteen, come back to this one, and enjoy. It's 'Xavier'. THANK YOU!*
"But that's not possible." I said distantly. "How can you possibly have all of that information? And more to the point, why?"
"You really don't know?" The man replied, genuinely perplexed. "Where've you been for the last twenty years, then?"
"Oh, you know." I said, shrugging dismissively. "I've been about. Or not about. Missed quite a lot of it, so tell me more."
"Well," He explained, sighing heavily before he did so. "When the Weyland-Yutani Corporation was disbanded after the Earth incident - I presume you're familiar with that, at the very least - the Off-World Association ruled that all of their internal communications were to be declassified. It's public domain now, anyone can freely access anything they choose."
"So you're telling me that you have a record of everything that Weyland-Yutani has ever done?" I asked in disbelief. "But there must be tons of incriminating files in there. Why is nobody doing something? Why aren't they looking into this?"
"In case you haven't noticed, mate," The man said sarcastically, "Over forty billion people were made stateless less than two decades ago. We're in the middle of the biggest population crisis in history. People have bigger concerns right now."
"I suppose you're right.' I muttered, though I still found it hard to believe that in all this time, not one single person had made any attempt to bring a case against Weyland-Yutani executives. How could nobody have even considered it?
"Look, I've no doubt that when all of this settles down," He told me, "Somebody will look into it properly. Someone will eventually bring Weyland-Yutani to justice, properly, for what they've done. But until then, all that information just sits there, waiting to be read. Who knows, maybe you could be the first? We're open all day, so dive in." And with that, he returned his focus to the computer screen beside him, effectively and somewhat rudely ending the conversation.
Stepping away from the desk, I turned around and walked back towards the centre of the lobby area. There were several doors around the perimeter of the room leading into a number of offshooting corridors. The one the man behind the desk had pointed to was on my left. Heading over to it, I pulled open the door and walked along the corridor behind until I found a room which bore the label 'Weyland-Yutani Corporation'. Looking a little further ahead, I could see the door marked 'Kovacs Extrasolar Solutions' not far from where I was standing. I knew that what I was really searching for was behind that door. And yet, I found myself compelled to enter this one. People walked in and out of the other door, yet not one single soul was entering this one. Why was that? What secrets could lie beyond this particular door, the door that nobody used? The things I could find out about Weyland-Yutani, the truths I could uncover... It was too much to resist. Kovacs could wait. I had bigger fish to fry right now. Cautiously, I pushed open the heavy metal door, and gingerly stepped inside.
The room was dimly lit and coated in a thin layer of dust. Nine-track tape drives filled with huge spools of magnetic tape encased in glass lined the walls. In the centre, newer, larger machines surrounded a central console, though nothing in the room appeared to be turned on. It looked as though nobody had been in here for a while, if at all. Perhaps the man behind the desk had been right. Perhaps people were too busy right now to lift the curtain on Weyland-Yutani. Or perhaps they simply didn't want to look, preferring to live in blissful ignorance. Whichever was true, it had kept this room empty for the longest time. But no longer. I was here now, and I was going to get answers. Dusting off a chair in front of the central monitor, I sat down, flinching as I made contact with the cold metal seat. Then, I reached out and flicked the power switch.
The monitor in front of me flickered to life with a low buzz. All around me, the tape drives began to spin, slowly beginning to wind the magnetic tape from one spool to the next. LEDs lit up on the newer drives around the console, and with a few beeps and clicks, the monitor sprang into action, radiating its gentle blue light out into the room. On the screen, the words 'National Digital Library of Angelica - Data Bank 03 - Weyland-Yutani Corporation' appeared, and underneath that, two logos, one belonging to Weyland-Yutani, and the other presumably representing the library itself. A few moments later, the message was gone, and in the centre of the screen appeared a search bar. This was it. The gateway to every file ever sent, ever created, by anyone at Weyland-Yutani. All at my fingertips. But I just couldn't bring myself to type anything.
What could I type in? What could I search for within a database of millions upon millions of files? I just didn't know. There were a few options along the top of the window, though, so I figured that using those might be a good place to start. The first option was labelled 'All'. No prizes for guessing what it did. I clicked on it, and suddenly the screen was flooded with results. Tens of thousands of pages of results. They were listed in date order, and the very first result was dated '2325/04/05'. It was an email, entitled 'Closing Down'. I was intrigued, to say the least. This email was the final email ever sent by an employee of Weyland-Yutani. The very last file generated, out of billions. I had to read it. I had to see what it said. Letting my curiosity take control, I clicked on the link, and the message in full popped up. This was what it said:
Hello all,
Well, what can I say? This is it. Today's the day that Weyland-Yutani is officially disbanded. Still, we knew that it was only a matter of time. After what happened on Earth, after all those secrets came out, it was inevitable. As of tomorrow morning, the company no longer exists. And as of this afternoon, we are required by the Off-World Association to disclose ALL files and internal communications that this company has ever generated. Now, in the ongoing chaos of relocating 43 billion refugees, people may be a tad busy to start pressing charges against us. But I can't guarantee that. And I can't promise any one of you immunity from the law. As of tomorrow, every single action that you have taken as an employee of the Weyland-Yutani Corporation becomes your own responsibility. I wish you all the best of luck in evading any criminal charges which may be brought against you. As for those of you who have received official transfer notices, I'm sure that the new company will welcome your arrival. You'll receive a message from me via my new email within the next 24 hours.
Letton
So that was how it all ended, was it? One swift and wholly insincere apology. 'Thanks for working for us, you're all criminals now'. That was very Weyland-Yutani, I had to admit. One thing that did stand out, though, was this mention of a 'new company'. Could this mean that Weyland-Yutani continued to operate, even to this day, under a new name? Were they perhaps continuing their work away from the public eye? I was compelled to dig deeper, but something else came to my mind. I reached out to the keyboard in front of me and typed in the letters 'J-O-N-E-S'. Big mistake. Thousands of completely irrelevant results filled the screen. It was just too common a name. I had to search for something more specific. 'Archimedes', maybe? 'Andromeda'? Or how about… 'Constantinople'? I pulled the keyboard closer once again, keying in the letters: 'C-O-N-S-T-A-N-T-I-N-O-P-L-E'. The results came in. This time, I scrolled down a little further, until I found another email, this one dated '2319/09/16". It was entitled 'Constantinople Survivor'. Very interesting... Here's what it said:
Dunlow,
No doubt you've heard about the Constantinople… Tragic, I know. But there's more to it than meets the eye. He was there, Dunlow. With at least two specimens, perhaps more. He got away on a cruiseliner, and the same one that escaped last time went with him. This is the second time that he's fucked up our plans, and I will not let it happen a third. The ship's gone quiet, but it has to turn up eventually. When it does, I want him tracking down. Send out an android, one from Company B so that he can't trace it back to us. Or use a mercenary, I don't care. Just find the bastard and bring him in.
Letton
This one was a little more chilling, I'll admit. I had no doubt that they were referring to me and Xena in this message. I'd 'fucked up' their plans, as they put it, once before on the Archimedes, and again on the Constantinople. I'd escaped on a cruiseliner, the Andromeda, along with Xena, exactly as it said, though strangely Katie and the kids weren't mentioned. And on top of it all was the most unnerving thing: They wanted me, for something. They'd been trying to find me, to track me down… And perhaps they still were. The 'android' mentioned in the email, that could be the missing KT unit. Then there was this mention of 'Company B'. Could that be the 'new company' that Letton mentioned before? Who else could be in on Weyland-Yutani's plans? Who else was wrapped up in all this? And then it hit me… the disappearances.
The whole reason I'd come here in the first place was to find out more about the disappearances that were still going on all over the ship. I'd come to find out if one particular company was involved. Because the kidnappers wore hazard suits... produced by Kovacs Extrasolar Solutions. Without hesitation, I pulled the keyboard closer again and typed in the letters 'K-O-V-A-C-S'. Within an instant, thousands of matches flooded the screen, filling page after page with results. Just as I suspected. But that wasn't evidence enough. I had to see it with my own eyes. I skipped straight through to the very last page, and scrolled down to the very oldest file. It was dated '2235/08/21', and entitled 'KETC Acquisition'. Wide-eyed, I clicked on the link, knowing full well that this could be the connection that I was looking for. The message read:
Letton,
Andover here. I just wanted to let you know that our acquisition of the Kovacs Extrasolar Traction Company is complete. Starting next week, we will officially begin operations under the new title: 'Kovacs Extrasolar Solutions'. Rest assured, research will commence immediately. Of course, as per executive insistence, the takeover will not be made public.
You know, if all goes well, we just might be able to pull this off. Weyland-Yutani may be in some pretty hot water right now, but Kovacs is completely off the radar. And 'off the radar' is precisely where we'll need to be if and when it all comes out.
I could hardly believe what I was reading. All of a sudden, it all fell into place, like the pieces of a jigsaw all… well, falling into place. Weyland-Yutani had been preparing for years, way before the Xenomorph breakout on Earth. They knew that they'd eventually be exposed; that the truth would come out and the company would be dismantled. But they were ready for it. They'd bought out Kovacs years earlier, completely in secret, so that they could continue their research unnoticed if Weyland-Yutani itself ever went under. And all of this could only mean one thing. If those people disappearing all over the ship were being kidnapped by Kovacs… then they were being used to continue Weyland-Yutani's Xenomorph research. They were here. Right under our noses, and not a single person knew. There were Xenomorphs on board the Angelica.
I had to get home. I had to tell Xena and Katie, and we had to do something, anything, to stop this. If just two Xenomorphs could cause a planetary infestation, then a whole pack of them could kill everyone on the ship within hours. Hurriedly, I got to my feet, but as I was about to leave, something stopped me. There was something else, one more word that still buzzed around in the back of my mind. Right now, I had access to every single file that Weyland-Yutani had ever created. Every memo, every email… every accident report. If I wanted the truth, this was where I would find it. With a deep sigh, I sat back down at the monitor, wiped the sweat from my palm onto my sleeve, and keyed in the letters 'K-E-L-V-I-N'.
A handful of results popped up on the screen. By the looks of it, most seemed to only mention the name in passing. But one stood out. It was dated '2284/11/01', and simply labelled 'Kelvin'. This was it. I was one click away from finding out the truth. One click away from finding out what really happened. Just one click… And I did it. I clicked it, and a new tab popped up, displaying the email on the screen in full. I still remember those words to this day. This was what it said:
Letton,
This is Harrow. It's about Kelvin. That's Biological Technician Sarah Hyacinth Kelvin, though I suspect you're already familiar with the name. She works at the Triton labs, running tests on Xenomorph XX121 specimens. Over the last few weeks her behaviour has been… abnormal, to say the least. She's been getting unusually friendly with one of the creatures in her lab. The specimen itself is physically identical to the others, though if I didn't know any better I'd say it seems to be capable of expressing human-like emotions. If that's the case, then it's a genetic anomaly, and nothing more.
Nevertheless, Kelvin won't be swayed. If things carry on, she may start to sympathise. And you and I both know that sympathisers cause trouble. We need to keep this under wraps. We need to make sure that she doesn't put word out about this to anyone. The way I see it, the solution is clear. We get rid of the evidence. Dispose of the specimen, and dispose of her. We'll file an accident report, saying the specimen went rogue and killed her, and was put down as a result. Pending your approval, I'll give the order. Just say the word, and it's done. The story of Sarah H Kelvin will never be told.