PART II: COMA

"Dave, I thought I advised not to bring Frank back onboard. The risks of infection are too high."

Dave sighed as he placed Frank on the medical table. Hal's red eye watched him accusingly, like he had been the one to refuse re-entry to a sick crew member and his commander. He avoided his gaze. "I know, Hal," he said. "But he's here now."

"I cannot condone this, Dave. I must act with the safety of all in mind."

A hundred possible responses to that fallacy ran through Dave's head. He bit his tongue. He could not get into another argument with Hal. There were more important things to be done. "I understand that. But I would really appreciate your help."

There was silence from the computer. Dave imagined all kinds of calculations in its synthetic brain, working out the best course of action. Or maybe not the best. Only the most logical. And those two things did not always link up.

At last, that soft voice returned. "Okay, Dave. Whatever you say. You're the boss."

"Thank you." Dave took a relieved breath. He loosened the fastenings on his EVA suit and stripped it off. It was easier to move without it. And they needed to be careful and precise with whatever was happening next.

He walked back to Frank and peered down at that thing. It was still cocooned within his helmet, surrounded by the melted glass. Trying to stop his hands trembling, Dave reached out and unclipped the catches. As delicately as he could, he pulled the head piece off. He went cold.

The creature looked awful under the bright lights of the centrifuge. Its flesh glinted with a slick, viscous fluid, highlighting all its crevices and pores. Legs clamped possessively around Frank's skull, claiming their victim. Even as Dave stared at it, it seemed to pulse, the bags on its sides inflating and deflating. But just as awful was the tail, wrapped tightly about his throat. A bruise was appearing at how fierce it was choking him. And yet Frank breathed normally. Dave wondered if he had any idea what was happening to him. He hoped not.

"Have you ever heard of anything like this?" he asked Hal. "It's some type of - organism. Like a crab or a spider. But incubated inside an egg at least three times its size. And that attaches to a human. What purpose could such a thing have all the way out here?"

"I don't know, Dave," Hal replied. "I have never come across it. One thing that resembles it slightly is a tick or a flea, attaching to a host for its own benefit. But we don't know what it means to do, or is doing."

"It's a parasite then," Dave remarked.

"Or it may be taking something away from him that isn't needed, like fish who attach to larger sea animals."

"We don't know until we can scan him. Run one for me."

"No problem, Dave."

Dave waited anxiously as Hal ran the scanners over Frank's comatose body. The harsh light did not seem to bother the creature at all.

He looked up at the readouts as they came onto the monitors. Detailed, transparent 3D-images of Frank's insides were formed. His organs still appeared to be working normally, unharmed by any toxin the alien may have pumped into him. The data didn't show any traces in his bloodstream either. So it wasn't poisoning him, at least.

But, as the pictures focused upon his neck, Dave frowned. The blot of its tail stained the scans, yet there was something more than that. Something inside. "What's it got down his throat?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"It seems to be feeding him oxygen."

"What?"

"It has inserted a proboscis tube into his mouth which stretches down his oesophagus. It has cut off his air supply, but continues to feed him oxygen from its own stores."

It didn't make any sense. Why would the creature molest and incapacitate its victim and then pump air into his lungs to him keep alive? If it had been intending to kill him or wound him, Dave would understand better. It would be a tragedy, but one that made sense; one that had a reason, as barbaric as it was. Self-defence or some other primal, basic instinct. Not this strange relationship where one party succumbed to whatever the other gave it.

"Is it taking anything from him?" he asked, trying to stay sensible.

"I'm sorry, Dave?"

"You said it might be like fish which attaches to a whale. Is it taking anything from him for itself?"

"It doesn't appear so. It is only feeding him oxygen, and occasionally a paralytic and soporific element to keep him in a coma."

Dave shook his head. His throat felt tight just thinking about it. "I don't understand," he admitted. "What's the point in taking care of him with air, but then forcing him to stay asleep?"

"I don't have an answer to that, Dave, I'm sorry."

"Well, I don't like it." That was a stupid understatement. "We need to get it off him."

"Are you sure, Dave? For all we know, it's the only thing keeping him alive. If we remove it, it might kill him."

Dave had already thought of that. But there were risks either way. Risks he had to weigh up quickly and then take, just like when he had entered the emergency airlock. Already, that seemed a million years ago. "I know. But it might be killing him now. I want to try and remove it."

A small pause. "Okay, Dave."

Dave tugged a surgical mask about his mouth and pulled on his gloves. He resented the thought of having to touch this creature. For all they knew, it could be secreting a toxin on its skin. He couldn't help wincing as he placed his hand upon it. Two dexterous mechanical arms joined him, controlled by Hal's precise mind. They would need all the delicacy they could get with this task.

"Right." Dave sighed, mustering himself. "I'm going to try and prise off one of the fingers. Maybe the whole thing will come off with a little encouragement."

He got a firm grip on one of the digits and Hal did the same on the other side. Dave held his breath and began to pull upwards. The creature, deceptively dormant, suddenly throbbed. Its tail wriggled and tightened around Frank's throat. "Stop, stop. It's not working."

Dave sighed, though was glad to get his hand off the alien. He was already sweating, breathing laboured as if that tentacle was wrapped about his own neck. Hal had noticed. "We may be able to cut it off," he suggested. "If we sever one of its legs, it may not be able to employ its defence mechanism."

"Or it could kill him outright."

Hal was silent. He knew Dave had already agreed.

Dave retrieved the scalpel and leant down to the animal. Up close, it was even worse, like it would leap off of Frank's face and onto his. His hand was trembling as he prepared to cut through one of the front limbs. "Dave, maybe I should -" Hal began.

"No. Let me."

Hal shut up, but Dave could still feel his wary eye on him. One slip and he could easily anger the alien, or hurt Frank. Dave was not sure which would be worse. He breathed out and let the blade press against the thing's leg. Its flesh was rubbery and surprisingly tough. Dave steadied his gloved hand on Frank's inert shoulder, and applied more pressure. The tail tightened again, but Dave did not give up. He pushed and pushed. A green liquid spurted out over the scalpel. Thinking quickly, he dropped the instrument and pressed a swab to the incision. The scalpel sizzled softly. "What is that?"

"It seems to be some kind of molecular acid," Hal said.

"Acid? For blood?" Dave removed the cotton slowly. The leak had stopped. "Did any reach the floor?"

"No. It's only on the scalpel and a few drops on the counter. Be careful."

"I am being careful, Hal." Dave tried to keep the frustration from his voice. He looked at the scalpel and saw the acid was starting to stop fizzing. It was a damn good defence mechanism. You don't dare kill it, otherwise it will kill you. He put the instrument down with a sigh. The alien settled again, tail tightening like a snake around its prey. "Any suggestions, Hal? We can't prize it off, and we can't cut it off. What do we do?"

"I can only suggest that we wait. In time, the creature may loosen its grip or detach entirely. It would be worth keeping a close watch on Dr Poole."

It sounded like a blind hope, but Dave nodded anyway. "Sure. I'll check up on him every thirty minutes. I suppose I'll have to take his rota for today."

"No, Dave. You need to rest. It has been an exhausting time for you. I will watch Frank."

Dave struggled to find words for a moment. It seemed ridiculous that the same voice who had just denied him entry to the ship was now speaking to him so softly and with such concern. He restrained himself from saying that Hal had partially been the cause of his exhaustion. "Okay, Hal," he said. "Wake me if there are any developments with Frank. Even the slightest thing."

"Of course, Dave."

Against his better judgement, Dave left the table. He didn't like leaving Frank in Hal's care so soon after what had happened, but he knew the computer would not relent until he was obeyed. He felt his eyes on him all the way to his sleeping pod.

More than that, he could still feel that creature under his fingers, eerie, unknown, and so alien.

Frank stayed comatose for the rest of the day, and the second. Dave slept a couple of hours after Hal sent him away, then awoke, swearing he could feel that alien tail lashed about his throat. It was only his blanket, curled around during his tossing and turning, but it sapped all his desire to sleep again. His dreams had been full of strange things floating in the gulf of space and birthing in the depths of their ship.

He tried to occupy his time. With Frank out of action, that was easy to do. He took over his duties, performing them alongside his own. It was exhausting, but it took his mind off whatever was lurking in the medical bay. There was no development so far. The creature stayed clamped to Frank's face, its only movement being the rise and fall of what Dave could only assume were air bags. He stayed away from it, letting Hal monitor Frank.

He was left with just the computer's companionship. Dave had never been frightened of the endless gulfs outside the ship - it was just part of his daily work environment, like a busy department store or an office. But suddenly, with Frank down, its crushing loneliness permeated through the ship. He was aware of the uninterrupted hum of the systems, the subtle shifts as the vessel sailed through the stars, the sheer size of it all. For the first time since leaving earth, he was without another human to speak with.

They had discussed waking up one of the other doctors. In an emergency, Kaminsky, Whitehead or Hunter could be pulled from their cryosleep. Dave had wandered past them, drifting in their pods, completely unaware of what was happening around them. They eventually decided to leave it that way. If Frank was infected, then they might be placed into great risk by being woken. The unspoken undercurrent to that decision said: if Frank was infected, then so was Dave, and there was no help for him.

The isolation and the whisper of disease had made Dave paranoid. Any cough seemed to tie his airways in knots. Whenever his head hurt even a little, he feared the poison of that alien twisting around his mind. He found himself itching without realising it. Hal conducted test upon test on him and they all came up normally. It didn't stop Dave's mind whirring around and around and around.

Around and around and around.

"Dave. Dave. It's your move."

Dave blinked and realised he was sitting in front of the digital chess board. Hal's watchful eye burrowed into him. "I'm sorry, Hal," he said. He tried to take in the game, the black and white squares blurring. "Bishop to D3."

"Queen to B5. Checkmate."

Hal's white queen flickered into position next to the unguarded king. It immediately disintegrated into pixels. The pieces returned to their places at the sides of the board. Dave sighed.

"You are not thinking clearly, Dave. Maybe chess isn't the best exercise for you at the moment. Can I suggest -"

"Have you contacted mission control?"

Hal paused. "Yes," he replied after too long a wait.

"What was their response?"

"We are to monitor Dr Poole and report any developments."

It was an expectedly clinical response, the human actualities of their situation stripped away to protocol. "We are transporting an unknown alien organism, in breach of quarantine laws."

"We are also 365 million miles away from Earth."

Dave swallowed. "I'm aware of that, Hal." Another question lingered in his mind, and he was almost too hesitant to ask it. "Where do you suppose that thing came from?"

"I don't have a definite answer for that. I have searched all possible networks but have unearthed nothing that might describe it. It seemed to appear at the same instant as the anomaly."

"The - anomaly. There were rumours about another 'anomaly' being dug up on the moon."

"It may be an error."

"You don't have errors, Hal. Where the hell did it come from?"

Hal was silent again. Dave listened to the soft hum of the ship, and thought Hal had disappeared into another region. "It is not there anymore. It has disappeared off all exterior cameras, and I cannot detect any shifts in gravitational force nor energy." A pause, and then Hal abruptly shifted back to his calm tone, as if soothing a child. "We have everything under control, Dave. There is nothing more we can do -"

" - but wait."

Dave looked away from Hal's eye, the bright red burning into his vision. Whatever Hal was documenting about Frank and the incident was being stored into the massive computer banks, ready for mission control to examine and peruse. Even the immaterial touch of that knowledge felt as though it was corrupting the ship, like the alien had grown to a massive scale and was squeezing the life out of the Discovery. Squeezing and squeezing and squeezing...

Dave's throat tightened again.

"Frank is still stable, Dave. He is running a slight fever, but nothing I can't rectify. Would you like another game of chess or maybe you should draw if it is too taxing?"

"I have to perform the checks on the pod bay."

"I -"

"Maybe later, Hal."

Dave left him, following the well-trodden paths through the heart of the habitation sphere. Hal's red eye was still imprinted on top of his vision, and also the black and white squares of the chess board. Except this time, he could not see his opponent's pieces. Only feel them, lurking there, unknown, but ready.

a/n: I have soooo much to write at the moment but last night, i suddenly got the urge to return to this mega old fanfic. My affection for Alien and 2001 has never shifted so it was great to go back to this. The first three quarters or so of this chapter were written literally years ago so I had to edit it quite a lot, so apologises if it is an absolute mess. A lot of this fic was actually prototype for my Alienation fanfic too ~