Chapter 2
Greg walked down the long hallway of the Bio-Weapons Division wing, toward his laboratory near the far end. His closest colleague—Tina Radley—was meeting him there, to demonstrate her progress in researching neuromuscular connections in the xenomorphs. This research was perhaps most imperative to the bigwigs of Weyland-Yutani, because it could allow them to "remote-control" the creatures. That is, if the gadget lab could ever invent a contraption that could connect nerves to the control system, and remain fixed to the creatures' bodies. At the moment, that prospect seemed a long ways from fruition. In the meantime, then, he and Tina would continue their research, and hope it would lead to a breakthrough.
He was really looking forward to seeing Tina again, but not for the reasons you might think. Yes, relationships were common among the employees, and the executives even encouraged them. From scientists' research on lesser primates, they knew that sex reduced stress and social tension between males and females—two major barriers to productivity. So they figured that sexual relationships would lead to more harmonious collaborations, and further build solidarity among employees. Some of those employees even took matters a step further, and established open sexual relationships within an entire laboratory. Greg heard that Endocrinology was getting it on with each other, but he never dropped by to check. He wasn't interested in fucking his co-workers. Besides, his relationship with Tina wasn't like that. They were just friends. Close friends, but friends nonetheless.
Greg reached the end of the hallway, and stood in front of the retinal scan at his lab's entrance. Once it recognized him, he pressed his thumb to the fingerprint recognition pad, and waited for it to beep. Now he was cleared to enter. The glass doors whooshed open, and he quickly slipped inside before they closed behind him. This was a Biohazard Level 3 facility, which meant that no outside contaminants could enter the lab, or vice versa. With that in mind, a blast of chemicals immediately hit his entire body, decontaminating his clothes and skin. Greg stripped down until he was entirely naked, then hit the red button on the wall to his left. The shower drenched him in cold water, and shut off once he was thoroughly soaked. The overhead blow-dryer blasted a long gust of warm air over his entire body, until all the water had evaporated. Clean and dry, Greg dressed in the uniform that he found in the cubby-hole to his right—underwear, navy-blue jumpsuit, white lab coat, and the rest of his PPE. He walked through the next set of automatic doors, then grabbed a bottle of pheromone cologne on the table in front of him. He sprayed the stuff on his wrists, neck, and behind the ears—the usual spots. Finally, he was ready to work. Greg walked through the next set of doors, and into the laboratory.
Tina greeted him with a smile and a wave as she looked up from the xenomorph that was strapped down to the titanium examining table, its oblong head cut open to reveal the brain and the nerve connections. To be honest, she was cute, even behind her goggles. Her round face was lightly freckled, and her small lips were full and glossy. Unfortunately, her curly red hair was hidden underneath a blue surgical cap, and her small, smooth hands were covered by latex gloves. But this wasn't a social call. He was here to work. And even if it were, he long suspected that she hadn't ever been attracted to him. How could she have been? He was pudgy, balding, and over forty, while she was young and healthy. It sure was great that the Company hired him for his talent, and not his looks, or else he wouldn't have gotten within ten feet of her.
"So, what do you have for me?" he asked, walking to her side.
"I'm provoking neuromuscular impulses," she said brightly, gripping a blunt steel rod in her left hand. "Watch this."
Gently, she jabbed the rod into a spot on the brain's frontal lobe. Greg heard a faint buzz emanate from the rod, and then the creature's arm swung toward him.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed, barely dodging the claws before they ripped the front of his lab coat. "Holy shit! That thing's alive?!"
"Yes, but it's heavily, heavily sedated," Tina said reassuringly. "It won't hurt you."
"It better not," Greg said with a nervous chuckle. "I know my insurance covers workplace accidents, but I don't think I could live it down if an unconscious xenomorph was the one that took me out."
"Big baby," Tina teased, pressing another spot on the frontal lobe. This time, the xenomorph's tail whipped across the air like a live electrical wire. Thankfully, it didn't spark, but it was just as dangerous.
"Damn," Greg exclaimed breathlessly. "Conscious or not, that freaks me the fuck out."
"Me, too," Tina agreed, "but not for the same reasons."
"How so?" Greg asked, suddenly confused.
Tina looked sad and worried as she explained, "Because that spot on the frontal lobe corresponds to muscle movement in humans."
Greg nodded. "Yeah, that's creepy. But we already knew that, right? Because of the Engineers?"
Pensively, Tina replied, "Yes, but that's not what bothers me. If we can understand the xenomorphs' brains so easily, think about how easy it will be to control them."
"I see your point," Greg conceded, and he did. Every day, scientists like he and Tina were making breakthroughs that allowed them to understand xenomorphs better and better. Their bodies, their behavior, even (blech) their reproductive cycle. And he knew that his bosses wouldn't stop pushing him until they fully understood the creatures. "But we can't control them yet. At least not directly."
Just then, the automatic doors opened behind him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. When he turned around, he saw Nicolette Fletcher behind him, fully dressed in PPE. Of course.
"Do you make a habit of sneaking up on people?!" he asked angrily.
"No, but I do like to keep them on their toes," she said with a bemused smile. Looking at the table, she flinched and said with disgust, "So, what are you working on?"
"Neuromuscular impulses," Tina said, holding up the steel rod. "Would you care for a demonstration?"
"No, thank you," Nicolette said uncomfortably, holding up her palms. "I just stopped by to invite you on a little research trip."
"Oh?" Greg asked, his interest peaked. "What kind?"
"A joint venture with the Colonial Marines," she said in a satisfied tone. "The military technology lab wants to test the 'rabbit'."
"Naturally," he said with some disdain.
It almost goes without saying that it wasn't really a rabbit. Rather, it was human male clone with approximately the same intelligence and instincts. The lab's plan was to let a xenomorph chase the test subject across a hunting ground, so it could capture and kill its victim. In that manner, the lab could both observe the xenomorph's hunting technique and acclimate it to a new environment—killing two birds with one stone.
"So where would we be going?" Tina asked.
"Zhawar Kili, in Afghanistan," Nicolette replied. "I trust you know why."
"Yes, we do," Greg said flatly. "Weyland's moving pretty quickly on this, isn't he?"
"Perhaps," Nicolette said cagily. "But the sooner we can test the xenomorphs, the sooner we can sic them after real targets. Given the terrorists' recent surge of violence, time is of the essence."
"True," Greg said, nodding. "So when would this be happening?"
"The day after tomorrow," Nicolette said. "That will give you plenty of time to pack your supplies, as well as finish any ongoing tests in your lab. We'll be leaving the company airfield promptly at 0700 hours. Please be ready."
"Yes, ma'am," Tina said with a sharp nod.
"Then I'll see you in two days," Nicolette said warmly. "Be well."
With one final look of disgust at the xenomorph on the examining table, Nicolette turned and walked out of the lab.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Tina nervously asked Greg, once Nicolette was gone.
"It's not a bad one," he answered, somewhat unsurely. "If nothing else, we'll garner valuable research data."
"Yeah, but I don't trust her," Tina said, frowning.
"None of us do. But she is our superior, so, like it or not, we need to follow her lead."
Tina reluctantly nodded, not meeting his eyes. Greg could only hope that Nicolette didn't lead them to a bad end. He trusted the Company not to put him in harm's way, but that trust went only so far.