Aliens: Chrysalis (Book 1)
Chapter 3: Setup
"-want another drink?" Alexander lifts the water bottle. The human tank behind the stasis barrier doesn't even look at it. "You must be thirsty after all this chatter." Bright, almost colorless eyes follow his every move. I raise my right eyebrow. Since the killer didn't say anything so far, I know my man is being 'sarcastic'. I'm learning… maybe I will have it all figured out one day if I just pay enough attention.
"Yeah." It's not the feral snarl one would expect from that bear, but rather a flat, toneless answer which compliments Raven's likewise expressionless features. It's the first word he utters. The move he makes is his first, too: Almost in slow-motion, he lifts his empty glass as an invitation to Saitchev to fill it up… daring him to step closer or order the stasis field that separates them switched off. But I wouldn't have put up with Alexander if he really were that stupid. He smiles good-naturedly, and I have to give him credit – he's got his nervousness amazingly in check – there's not the slightest trace of it now. He's concentrated, aware… and cautious, yes, but not afraid. At least not outwardly.
"Alright. Why don't you put it on the table there then, and I give you your free refill?" The joke earns him the slightest trace of a wary smile on the killer's face.
"Shitting your pants, aren't you? Why don't you come over here?"
My man's doing me proud. He's not going to have any of this b/s. He's simply putting the bottle down again, shrugging.
"Funny. I thought you'd be thirsty for sure." He folds his hands on his lap again. "You'd kill me if I turned off the stasis field." Raven looks bored.
"'course."
"Why?"
The muscular shoulders twitch.
"Got to entertain myself. Not much else to do here."
A slight grin that mixes both malice and boredom. He turns his neck to stare right at us where we have gathered in the crammed room behind the one-way mirror. He probably knows we're here. He's probably been in dozens of rooms of this kind. I study his cool, detached features some moments longer, then turn my attention back to my boss, who's rummaging through the file I prepped for him at one second, and following the scenario in the next room the other second. Right now he pauses to look up again and then slowly shakes his head to himself before casting me an annoyed glance.
"That guy's pretty full of himself. I wonder whether he's not more hot air than anything."
"He killed 123 people," I state evenly, causing Kurtz to furrow his brow at me, but before he gets a chance to reply to this undeniable fact, I hear another voice from the door.
"If he's hot air, he's enough to make a balloon fly."
Darwin. Count on her to be the one who can make Kurtz blow his top – one of my favorite expressions now that I understand it – with just one sentence. I turn and see her fair and slight appearance march into the room, her eyes fixed on the scene behind the mirror, neither acknowledging Kurtz's or my presence by just the tiniest glance. My boss casts her a brief sour glare which she entirely misses… or chooses to ignore, before he decides to stick his head into the file again. Being caught between these two constantly fighting egos is something all the others are hell-bent on avoiding, but I don't care. My relationship with both is better than with any of my other colleagues… and when they're busy insulting each other, I can always go on 'deaf' mode and find something else to do. I change my attention back to Alexander and his 'project' as Darwin comes to a halt by my side. It's a rare occurrence for her to leave her Ivory tower, so Alexander's mission must be more important than I thought.
"How is it going?"
"Raven's trying to get Saitchev to do something stupid, and Saitchev's not having any of it," I report. "So far, nothing really happened."
She shrugs to herself, eyes the scene a moment longer and then turns to Kurtz for a question.
"Is that his file?"
"No."
Nothing more. No explanation. He's not even looking up. Trying to get even, Dr. Kurtz, huh? There couldn't be a greater waste of time. Darwin's always calm. You can't anger her… and if you try, it's likely you will be the one walking away with a black eye, metaphorically speaking. Her youthful, fragile appearance is deceiving – on the inside she anything but a normal 20-year old, and people who don't know or keep forgetting usually find it out the hard way. Nothing you can say can possibly unfaze her – she's always the one with the final word, the smart reply… the hurting truth… and virtually no scruples to use it. Her mind is a weapon. Mess with her and she'll tell you what you never wanted to hear about yourself. Don't mess with her, and you get it just the same. She just doesn't care whose egos she's stomping into the ground on her path of absolute logic. I guess this is why I get along so well with her: In a way, we are alike… just that she's definitely human.
"Well, whose is it then?" she inquires, still without any trace of anger. If Kurtz really thinks she'll give up he's mistaken, and finally he recognizes this, too. He looks up, finally acknowledging her presence.
"Some soldier's… 'Orthanc' brought him here along with the girl and… the specimen." A curt nod towards the file in his hands. " "He's a colonial marine… might come in handy at some point… if he survives." His questioning glance finds me. "Did you already talk to Hikahi today, Isis? How's the man doing?"
"What do you want from me?"
I hear Raven's flat voice through the speakers while I'm recalling the data I've been collecting all night to fill my superiors in.
"Hikahi' was asleep when I called. I spoke with Dr. deJoria. She said the Doctor's been up all night to make that guy pull through. It's still critical, but… so far he's holding."
"What's the problem?" Darwin inquires. I don't know whether she's asking me or Kurtz, but since I'm the one who's most up-to-date, I take the freedom to answer her.
"He's battling a severe case of radiation poisoning… plus a badly infected leg wound." My glance shifts towards my boss. "Since his constitution is also substantially weakened, Dr. Hikahi can't say yet whether he's going to make it. According to Dr. deJoria the situation would be far less critical if you'd allow for them to take off his leg-" a brief, firm "No" is the answer to my rhetorical question – "The same goes for the girl… if anything, she is even more unlikely to survive." I look at Darwin. "They don't expect her to see this evening." The fair blue eyes examine me. I can't tell what she's thinking behind that detached, withdrawn mask void of emotions I'm familiar with.
"That's all the information I have for you at the moment," Kurtz states matter-of-factly. "What do you have for me?"
"You've got more," she announces, blunt as ever. "I had a conversation with Carter Burke…" My bosses' mouth drops slightly at the company man's mention. "According to him there's a record of everything that happened on LV-426's surface… the data were transferred from the 'Sulaco' into the 'Orthanc's' system shortly before it was destroyed. Where is it?" With three firm, measured steps she stops right in front of Kurtz's desk and stretches out her hand in anticipation. I can see her request going down sideways his throat.
"The data will be available for you tonight. Right now I'm having them decoded and transferred into our –"
"Database?" she interrupts him, her eyebrows forming an angry triangle in the middle of her brow. I'm almost tempted to smile. 'Damn, Boss, you should know by now you can't lie to her!' "No, you aren't. We both know these information are strictly your eyes and mine only… So stop the fairytales and give me my dupe, would you, Doctor Kurtz?"
I turn away. It's always the same: Kurtz's desperate clawing for any kind of exclusive information he can get to astonish her with… and Darwin's finding out about it before it will give him even the tiniest advantage. He can't stand being inferior to her brilliant intellect, can't bear the thought of that "self-loving, arrogant bitch" as he likes to call her whenever she's not around being ahead of him.
Behind me, the discussion goes on. Instead of listening in on it, I study Raven. He's only been thawed out of cryo-sleep this morning, and most people would still feel miserable for the next 10 hours, but he's just sitting there calmly, unflinching, his full attention directed at his interrogator… waiting for the one mistake that would give him the chance to add another hide to his questionable record. He's still wearing handcuffs and shackles, but there is no doubt he'd be able to off Alexander in the wink of an eye if the opportunity would present itself to him.
My database on him contains his complete record up to this very day… reliable, ready-to-use, down to the smallest ugly detail. His M.O. is very distinctive. He likes to get his hands dirty, to kill 'em with his raw strength…and slowly, many of them over days, hunting them. It's like a sport to him. There were a few women among his victims, but most of them were strong, capable men in the prime of their life, men who wouldn't go down without putting up a hell of a fight. The best example – and by far his most prominent victim – being a certain Collin Jefferson – ex-champ of the 'Modern Gladiators', a brutal spectacle mixing Australian Footy, boxing and wrestling. In a painstakingly elaborate plan Raven abducted him one night after a game and drove with him into the wild, far off any kind of city or civilization. There he set him loose… and spent the next seven days and nights hunting him down. Hurting him time and time again, sometimes with a knife, sometimes with a bow… his fists… and at last, killingthis mountain of a man with his teeth by biting through his throat.
It was the case which ultimately led to his capture, because he left enough evidence at the murder-site that led towards him… a strange thing considering he had slain 122 people before without ever having given the smallest clue to the authorities. It's almost as if he wanted to get caught this time. Get the credit… the fame. Serial killers still radiate an aura of fascination to today's society. Is it possible he's been so proud of his last murder that the thought of having the public associate someone else with it has been utterly unbearable?
Fact is that for five long years, the authorities had been hunting a phantom. Raven's extremely gruesome M.O. had been distinctive enough to tell his pursuers they were dealing with one and the same man in every case… but other than that, he had given them nothing. Nobody had ever seen him 'at work', and with Beringh II deliberately being a rather rural world which doesn't possess the efficient technology of – say, genetic decoding – which is long common practice on most of the other colonies, they were unable to give the monster a face. A simple examination of the skin and blood particles left under the victims' fingernails in many cases would have resulted in a three-dimensional computer-simulation which wouldn't have left any questions open. But, well, if you choose to live in the stone age, you've got to put up with the bad side of it, too, right?
"- st give him the six guys and let them deal with it. What's the problem?" Darwin sounds angry, and I turn my attention back at the odd couple.
"The problem, Darwin, is that six synthetics are valuable. We can't just throw 'em away to collect you some funky new toys." Uh-oh... Kurtz is at his maddening best today. This is going to be interesting. "Why don't you send Isis? She always behaves like she knows more than all of Phooka's scientific staff on Phooka combined, and she's the only one who'll follow your orders blindly. Perfect."
Man, where did that come from? Did he have a nightmare last night that made him get up as pissed as that? I don't know how Darwin manages to keep her voice down, but it certainly sounds chilly enough to make the temperature in the room drop a few degrees... well, it doesn't of course. It's just a figure of speech. My artificial inside's telling me that we're still having a pleasant 22° Celsius.
"My 'funky new toys', Dr. Kurtz, are the No. 1 priority of W.Y. brass according to Carter Burke..."
She sits down right in front of his table, looking into his arrogant, triumphant face unflinching. "These specimen are required for scientific research, which is the very reason of Phooka's existence. We've got an official order to 'develop' this creature. I'm sure I don't have to tell you about Mr. Burkes connections...or for whom he's speaking..."
Good one, Darwin. Make the old man realize that he may be the head of this station, but still a dim light in W.Y. hierarchy. If anyone of the mighty company decides they don't want to put up with a rebellious manager any longer, his head will roll faster than Orthanc can fly. Her hints probably would have been enough to shut Kurtz up for good, but as usual she can't help it – it's an unspoken rule that she must add insult to injury whenever her opponent's already down for the count.
"You've already gotten your head chopped off for this von-Sontheim-affair, Doctor – and now you're sitting here in the middle of a black hole with no place left to go instead of climbing up the career-ladder. If you continue to be a nuisance to them… they just might decide to chop you off permanently…"
I can only see the back of her head, but I can vividly picture her sardonic smirk accompanying her words. As usual, she's hit the jackpot. Kurtz's face turns red.
"Not that I would break into tears if they did…"
"Just see to it that it won't be your head, you bratty little freak!"
Yup, things are taking a turn to more substantial niceties again. I turn my back on them, desperately trying to stay out of it. God forbid they make me take sides! Despite the massive insult my boss just hit her with, Darwin's voice sounds cheerful.
"They'll never axe me, and you know it. Unlike station operators, brilliant minds like mine don't grow on trees…"
"Get out of my sight, Darwin!"
"I will." She stands up, her gaze pinning Kurtz like an insect, all cheerfulness vanished all of a sudden. "But if I'm not in possession of this disc by 2:00 p.m. today, I will be back. And I will be filing an official complaint to W.Y. headquarters about your petty little schemes of trying to keep vital information from me!"
Now this is one heavy sucker of a threat! I may be imagining it, but I think I see Kurtz pale slightly. There's no doubt a serious accusation like this could well cost him his job… especially after the von-Sontheim-incident! Count on Darwin to have the most effective weapon on her hands any time and be able to use it with merciless efficiency! I watch her back as she prepares to leave the room – as she stops to look back over her shoulder – at me.
"Can I talk to you for a minute, Isis?"
"Sure." I shrug. I'm here. I'm listening. But she shakes her head no and points her chin in the door's direction.
"Outside I mean."
"Oh…" I look at my boss to find out what he's thinking about her request. Sure enough, the reluctantly intimidated expression has been replaced by a sour, derogatory smile. "Doctor?" He ignores me.
"Who's scheming now, Super-Brain, huh?"
"It's 'girls' talk," Darwin – unbelievably – says, making my eyebrows meet my hairline. I would have place any bet she didn't even know such a term – she's hardly an average girl/young woman. "I'm sure you'd find it most amusing, no doubt, but I'd rather prefer a little privacy. – Isis?"
I'm still waiting for Kurtz's decision.
"Go, Isis. Make Brainiac happy. Maybe you can help her come out of this perpetual state of PMS she's captured in."
I decide to follow Darwin before he can come up with further niceties. Stepping through the door, I wait until it's closed again before I face my human alter-ego, waiting for her to let of steam. But she doesn't. The dead-serious expression on her face as she turns around to meet me is an indication that the memory of the unpleasant discussion with Phooka's mighty man is already on its way to the next galaxy, as far as she's concerned. Instead, I find myself the single target of her focus.
"Isis, I want you stay away from Alexander Saitchev."
Just like that. Out of a clear blue sky. If I were human, my mouth would probably hang open in shock. Her deep voice makes the unmentioned threat even more intimidating. I can only stare back.
"What? Why?" Very blue, very large eyes pin me like a butterfly, almost seem to look into me. I'm feeling naked under her scrutinizing stare, as if I were some dumb computer with all files opened on the monitor for everyone to see. She sticks her hands into her blue frock.
"You know perfectly well why. The beautiful boy can't keep his mouth shut. He's already-"
'Fuck it!' I think. 'Alexander, you stupid jerk, who else did you talk to?'
"-on Kurtz's black list. It might not look like it with this new project he got assigned to, but your boyfriend is already going down. I don't want you to join him! Kurtz already suspects you know more than you should. He's thinking about having you reprogrammed-"
'Holy shit!'
"-but as long as I'm holding my hand over you, he can't do anything. I can only do this though as long as there's no solid evidence against you. Alexander's already in their sights, so... stay away from him."
I still can't believe it! That idiot...!
"What should I tell him?" The ice in Darwin's stare seems to melt for a moment. She seems almost amused.
"How should I know? I don't have a man to come home to each night. Think of something. You're as smart as me – make something up! Say... you've got to work." She smiles a thin smile. "Tonight, it's even going to be the truth!"
"Yeah?" I ask, weary. Another 'special assignment'?
"Yeah." She tilts her head a little to the side to take a quick glance down the corridor, but we're still alone. But she's still lowering her voice as she continues. "I want to you be in Lab 1 tonight at 10.00... and I want you to bring a Zoolander along."
"A... 'Zoolander'?" I ask hesitantly. My audio-input is far superior compared to the human ear, but...did I hear her right? She shrugs it off.
"Come on, if we call the compound 'Zoo', we can surely name its inhabitants 'Zoolanders.'" Again this scrutinizing look. "Are you sure you can handle him all by yourself? Cause I don't want to make such a big thing out of it..."
"Sure. You know me, the female 'Gladiator' extraordinary." 'What are you planning to do with him, Darwin?' The question must be visible on my face, since she's answering it without me asking it aloud.
"We're going to breed us our first alien tonight." She's looking extremely pleased. O-kay... if she says so...?
"You want anyone special?" I recognize that our talk would sound sick to the normal human being. But she seems to be serious about it.
"Naw... surprise me." The corners of her mouth twitch. "Oh, and don't plan anything for later, either... we're going to watch the 'Sulaco'-records together. I want you to completely immerse yourself in this project. We're going to work on this together 24/7... this should give you a good reason to break up with the old chatterbox..."
I still don't completely get it.
"Darwin..." She's already turning to head back to her very own laboratory complex – the Ivory tower, but stops.
"Yes?"
"Why do you care so much... about Kurtz reprogramming me?"
The smile's disappeared without a trace, and the deep, serious tone is back.
"Because I need you for this project... and I can't afford to have an artificial Kurtz-clone looking over my shoulder each step that I take."
Our eyes meet. I can see she's dead serious about it. I nod curtly.
"Okay... 10.00 p.m. .. I'll be there."
It is 9.45, and the station's all quiet again, shutting down for the night except for the nightshift's staffs working in the various labs – and me and Mr. Larabee in elevator number 3. With a grimace I realize how bloody ridiculous that sounds. Like the lyrics to a very corny song: 'Me and Mr. Larabee in elevator no. 3...' Okay, enough is enough. I really wish those damned lifts were faster! Mr. Larabee is still out cold on the hover-stretcher I strapped him on, but over the last 5 minutes or so on my way from the 'Zoo' he's started stirring again. So far he has only been flexing his fingers a couple of times and attempted to turn his head without much success, but there's no mistaking that he's starting to wake, and I really want to be in Lab 1 once he's coming to.
Acquiring him was easy once I had decided he would be the one who'd be granted the honor of donating his life for the noble cause of advancing mankind's knowledge. I would have loved to take von Sontheim for it since he's such a pain in the you-know-what, but I know he's untouchable... for now. Nobody will do anything with him until either Kurtz or Darwin says so. So I picked the quiet, inconspicuous looking guy in the back of the cantina, sure nobody would miss the grumpy loner the next day. I saw to it that his dinner from the auto-chef was spiked with M3-43, our high-tech sedative especially designed to unfold its effect on a reliable schedule... and sure enough, 30 minutes after finishing his meal Mr. Larabee got drowsy enough to leave the cantina to go to bed... and was out cold when I entered his room 30 more minutes later with the hover-stretcher after the general lock-in for the night. He will be fully awake again in about 20 more minutes, as the effect of the drug has been designed to wear off especially fast. The entire action went smoothly and without problems. Darwin will be pleased with me.
My patient groans softly while my eyes stay glued to the glowing numbers as our cabin's slowly climbing up to the Ivory Tower. Darwin's lab complex got that name since everything's white in it. Blinding white. There's the common belief among people that all laboratories look like that, but it's far from reality. Darwin's 'palace' however fits the description all the way. It's also the place she almost never leaves, the young genius's realm of wonder. That nickname is so dead-on, practically everyone's using the 'Ivory Tower' term when referring to Lab 1.
Level 2. Almost Phooka's top. Above us are only the gardens... and then the blackness of space. I briefly wonder whether Darwin's had any saying regarding the station's design... whether she specifically demanded to have her workplace right next to the extensive park and the only piece of nature we've got here - apart from Skin's pet zoo of course. In my eyes it's very possible... Darwin doesn't suffer fools lightly and prefers to shut herself off from the rest of her race. She would loathe the thought of having to put up with all those annoying dumb-heads on her way to work every day. I can perfectly relate...
The cabin stops and I enter the corridor after the retina-scan has confirmed my positive authorization, steering the hover-stretcher right towards the massive security doors at the end of the moonlight-illuminated corridor. One last control – another retina check, a hand-scan plus my 10-digit PIN-number – and the door hisses open and lets me pass under the bright false moon on the ceiling above my head. To my surprise, the usually brightly-lit laboratory is on night-light, too, only illuminated by the instruments and various monitors. I rise my eyebrows momentarily while I'm looking around in the almost empty room, searching for Darwin. I discover her in the far left corner, seemingly talking to Scylar, who doesn't look happy. Before I can speculate on the reasons my valuable freight groans again, and when I look down I find some very confused green eyes looking at me.
"Wha..." his voice is not yet working again, but it's definitely time to get moving. From the corners of my eye I see my two colleagues watch my approach as I'm moving the stretcher towards them. Funny – they appear to be the only ones here.
"Where do you want him, Darwin?"
She tilts her head a little to see whom I brought her and then nods into the general direction of the connecting corridor.
"Compound 1. Everything's set. The specimen is already there, and we just checked the equipment... We're ready to go."
"Uhm... the specimen's already there?" Not that I'm afraid, but... My question seems to amuse her.
"Still in stasis, don't worry, Isis. We'll shut it down from here. After what I saw this afternoon I think we should be real careful with those things." I stare at her, but before I can voice my obvious question the Larabee-guy stirs again, and I decide to take care of him, first.
"I'll be right back."
It's a way of twenty meters down the corridor. The stasis field securing the small quadratic room behind it deactivates when I arrive. I shove the stretcher into the bluely illuminated room, just in time.
"Where are you taking me?" The man still sounds drowsy, his words slurred, but alarmed just the same. He turns his head to inspect his new surroundings. "What... what are you doing to me?"
"Don't worry. Everything will be fine."
Is it still safe to unbuckle him? He seems to be already pretty lively again. But then again, I'm stronger than any human being on this station, probably stronger than even Raven. What could he really do to me? I start loosening his ties – when he sees the occupied stasis tube on the floor. His body goes rigid.
"Oh fuck...!" Fine, now he's agitated. I fight with the last strap around his feet. Done. "Hey! Hey, wait! You can't- !"
A muffled thud behind me indicates he's fallen off the stretcher in his feeble attempt to follow me. I hear panic in his voice as the stasis field activates behind me.
"You can't do this! Hey!"
He yells at me until the corridor door cuts off his voice in mid-sentence. I head for the observation room and enter. Darwin's looking at me funny. As if she were searching for something in my face. Like what? Sometimes even I don't understand her.
"Ready."
Skin's looking strange, too, but different. Pale, with huge eyes in his haggard face. And he's uncharacteristically quiet. Did he fight with Darwin just before I entered? Or is he not feeling well?
"What's the matter, Skin? Mac sick?" '
Mac the Knife' is the single being on the entire station this freak really cares for – a 14-foot genetically enhanced tiger shark circling Phooka's extensive underwater laboratory 5 in his never-ending quest for food. It's Skin's duty to keep our little, but exquisite animal collection happy and healthy – after all, it's hard to get new ones out here... and they are always in demand
"Mac's fine." It's all he says. Usually he can't stop talking about the stupid fish! But I don't probe any further, since I notice that Darwin's eager to go.
My glance follows hers towards the main monitor. The Larabee-guy has come to a shaky stand, heavily supporting his weight by leaning onto the stretcher. His big, panicky eyes dart from the stasis shield to the wall... the ceiling... and – inevitably – to the glowing stasis tube next to him. The thing inside twitches, shooting forward its long, muscular tail. The field's still keeping it inside, but the man's stumbling backwards nevertheless.
"You can't do this! You hear me?" He's sounding desperate. Angry. "Let me out, damned!" He reconsiders. "Please!" I notice Skin's not looking at the monitor. In fact, he seems to intentionally avoid the images it's delivering. She notices it, too.
"Skin, you knew this would happen. You agreed to it when I asked you."
"Yeah..." his voice sounds raspy. "It's okay. Really. It's just..."
But she doesn't want to hear.
"Then do it." Her eyes pin him. He swallows. Nods. And presses the bottom which deactivates the cylinder's stasis field.
"Okay... here we go."
Darwin leans back into her seat, waiting for the inevitable, hand folded on her lap. We all stare in anticipation at the screen. For some long, breathless moments nothing happens.
"Come on, stupid," she whispers to herself. "You're free."
The thing's long, spidery fingers flex hardly perceivable...probably sensing the change in its surroundings. Behind the tube I see the man's legs. He's pressing himself against the opposite wall, as far away from the container as possible... which is not very far. He's still screaming at us, but breaks off now as the creature turns around – still floating in the liquid - and its muscular tail coils up underneath it...
"Watch." Darwin. Cool, detached... 100% scientist. Not one iota of emotion in her voice. Then everything happens very fast.
The change is abrupt and radical, and it senses it at once. The field that's been sucking the being dry of its energy has gone. The atmosphere around it has changed, and as it continues to hang in the liquid for a little while longer, it can feel its reserves charging up again, filling its muscles with strength. A first, tentative attempt to move... flexing its fingers...and finding nothing working against them anymore.
Movement to the left, a shadow! Instinct takes over. The tail curls up into a spring of muscle – and catapults it forward, against the hard, invisible barrier that's been keeping it – and through it in a shower of liquid and shards!
"No!"
It doesn't have any ears to pick up the voice, but the sound waves reaching it is get absorbed by its skin – giving the being a clear picture of the source's location. It turns towards the soft blue glow further back and jumps again, finally getting a solid hold on fabric.
"No! Help! Help me! God –"
Something solid connects with its hard flesh, and with a lightning-fast reaction, it hold on to the thing which dealt the blow to it. Shoots its tail forward and finds a place to wrap itself around, pressing, contracting the muscle. Disturbance in the air, ripples of energy bouncing against its leathery skin. Close now, real close. Still movement under it. Upwards. Another hold. Almost there! The being feels the sound-waves emitting from directly underneath now. The right position! It ejects its ovipositor, digging for the wet, moist cave it needs to fulfill its task. There's still resistance. It tightens the spring its tail's forming around the host, feels it digging into the soft surface, drawing slippery moisture. Frantic resistance now – the being feels lifted for a moment... and then the battle's suddenly over, and the host lies still... ready to receive. A living cavern, throbbing, pulsing energy to surround it once it's shed its old skin... The barrier to its entrance falls...
All action has died down in Compound #1. All movement, all struggling has stopped. The two bodies contained in it have merged into a symbiosis. The thing's sitting on Larabee's face, nothing but a gentle pulsing of its flat sides indicating it's not just a grotesque mask, a tasteless joke. The man himself appears to be unconscious, not dead. His chest is moving slightly, but visibly as Skin's zooming in on it. Nobody speaks for a while. The creature's fast and relentless action has left us all flabbergasted. I glance down at Darwin. She doesn't respond. Her treacherously young-looking face is wearing a far-away, serious expression. I'd give more than a penny for her thoughts right now – to use a common human term.
It's easier to determine what Skin is thinking of the show. His attempt of guarding his expression has failed miserably – he looks downright sick. I'm surprised. Usually he's such an obnoxious, rude and insensitive human plague who's not bothered by anything you could think of… but obviously this is getting to him. I wonder why. From the corners of my eyes I see Darwin's head move. She's looking at me, that distant expression still there.
"Well… this was quite a demonstration, I'd say…" 'What do you think of it?' her blue eyes ask me silently. I'm not sure what she wants to hear from me.
"What's the thing doing to him now?" I ask.
"Reproducing."
"You mean it's fucking him?" Skin's looking ready to spill his dinner. "Aw, hell…I don't know...This is ugly, man!"
The young genius remains calm.
"I'm not yet sure what it's doing… or rather, how. 'Reproduction' may be the wrong term, since it doesn't procreate. Seemingly, it injects an egg into his chest …or his stomach. After it's finished with that, the hand-form dies and falls off. Usually within 24 hours. The host wakes up again, feeling good for some more hours, while the embryo's growing inside him… Within six to eight more hours it's grown large enough to hatch…"
"-to hatch?" Mr-Nothing-can-ever-shake-me swallows visibly. His eyes wander off to find mine for a brief glance, almost begging me to tell him that this is just one of Darwin's highly bizarre jokes. No, Mr. Scylar. This is for real. Better deal with it. "How...I mean... does it-"
"How do you know all this?" I inquire, cutting him off and ignoring his continuing stare. She nods toward the conference room. I understand. This is where she already watched the Sulaco-tapes. The biggest screen, the most comfortable seats... and a rather luxurious auto-chef. "It's all on record?"
"Theoretically, yes. Being narrated. And some footage of those things sitting on peoples faces. But not how they got there... or how they hatch. I got most of it from the records of Hadley's Hope's medical staff and some female Warrant Officer." She swings around in her chair, her fingertips pressed against each other, her elbows placed comfortably on her thighs. "I've been watching this stuff the entire afternoon, and I'm not even halfway through yet. What I want you to do is watch everything in fast-forward. I know this won't take you longer than half an hour, and you won't miss even the tiniest detail. Skin and I will start watching the rest, and when you're finished with your part, you come and join us... and you will by then probably be able to enlighten us whenever the plot on the screen seems to leave a question open." I smile at her confidently. "You know Isis, this is something I really envy you for. I'm losing so much time by having to watch those files in real time. I could be so much more efficient if I could just plug in and collect whatever information I need."
"Yeah," I grin self-confidently. "I like that about myself, too."
"What are we doing with him in the meantime?" Skin throws in, hinting at the still motionless Mr. Larabee and his pet. "Just leave him there?"
Darwin shrugs.
"Yes, for now. From what I know, nothing happens for the first day anyway. The thing won't move, he won't wake up... the kind of company you'd like to have at home." A hint of a smile crosses her face before it turns serious again. "But we should be ready for the time after, which – Ladies and Gentlemen – is the reason why we're going to make this night count. We've got all the coffee we need to keep going for as long as it takes. I want to be as far ahead with our plans as possible before I'm going to talk to Dr. Kurtz tomorrow. I want to determine how we're going to proceed, what we're planning to achieve with those creatures, where we're going to contain them... everything. Right now we're standing on an endless field of questions... let us dig up some answers, what do you say?"
