Chapter 6

Greg and Tina got up at 6 a.m. the next morning and dressed in spacesuits. After entering the storage room of their lab, they removed a trained xenomorph and wheeled the cage out to the airfield. Mike was waiting for them when they arrived.

"Thanks, pal," Mike said to Greg, as a man in a power loader picked up the caged xenomorph and carried it into the cargo bay of the Excalibur. Like Greg and Tina, the other men wore spacesuits. "This is a big help."

"Happy to oblige," Greg said with a smile, and he meant it. He'd be even happier if his and Tina's experiment succeeded in the field.

"You gonna watch the big show?" Mike asked, cocking his head.

"Isn't it practically mandatory?" Tina retorted. "I received, like, three emails about it in my priority inbox—two from Nicolette and one from Weyland himself."

Mike waved off her concerns. "Nah, they're just psyched about it, that's all. It's what they've been working toward for the last few years. A quality field test of their prized bioweapon, with the full support of the United States military. I mean, who wouldn't be pumped, right?"

"Yeah," Greg said worriedly. "Just take good care of that xenomorph, all right?"

"Relax, it's in great hands," Mike said, with a wink and a thumbs-up. "We're about ready to board, so you'd better clear out. I'll see you when we get back."

He clapped Greg on the shoulder, then turned and strode into the Excalibur's cargo bay. Greg and Tina walked off the airfield and back into the research station, and the former thumbed the door shut behind them.

"Well, there's no turning back now," Tina said resignedly, as the Excalibur's bay door closed. "All we can do is watch and wait."

"Right," Greg said. "I suppose that goes for all of us … for better or worse."

Tina nodded sadly as she leaned against the door and looked out the small window. Beyond it, the Excalibur had started its engines, and was now rising into the atmosphere—engines loudly rumbling and thrusters burning bright.

"Let's walk over to the auditorium," Tina proposed. "Hopefully there are two seats left."

Greg nodded, and they walked down the hall and toward the viewing party.

The viewing party was held in a large screening room, about the size of one you'd find in a 21st Century movie theater. Instead of a screen, though, the room featured several monitors mounted on the long wall at the front. When Greg and Tina arrived, those monitors were tuned to test patterns. That wouldn't be the case for long. The two colleagues took their seats near the middle of the room, then leaned back and waited for the show to begin. Around them, their fellow co-workers chatted excitedly about the counter-terrorism project. Some of them were dressed in lab uniforms, like Greg and Tina, while others wore business suits. All of them looked healthy and happy, without any cares in the world. Greg wished he could have said the same.

Suddenly, Weyland himself stood up from his seat in the front row, then turned around to face the assembled audience.

"Good morning, everyone," he boomed, spreading his arms in greeting.

"Good morning!" the crowd enthusiastically replied. Well, most of them, anyway. Some of them weren't yet fully awake.

"I'm glad that you could join us for this momentous occasion," Weyland said proudly. "Right now, the USCSS Excalibur is on its way to Earth to drop off a Colonial Marines strike team in Afghanistan—specifically, the Achin district of the Nangarhar province. Our military technology lab—led by Mike Turner—will be handling the attacking xenomorphs and supervising their deployment and retrieval. They should all arrive in the area within the next half-hour, and begin operations shortly thereafter. In the meantime, let me tell you a little bit more about the operation. First of all, it's a two-pronged attack. The Marines will ambush the terrorists from one entrance, while our lab will release the xenomorphs at another. Thus pinned down, the terrorists will have nowhere to run. Ideally, then, we'll be able to wipe them all out, with as few casualties on our end as possible. And when I say all, I mean all. Women, children, the whole lot of them. We can't take any chances."

Greg looked over at Tina, who looked at him knowingly. Hopefully not the children, he thought.

"That's all there is to it, really," Weyland continued. "It's a simple objective, but complicated to pull off. If we do, though, it will mean greater prestige for all of us. Now let's sit back and hope that everything goes off without a hitch. At this point, it's all we can do."

So they did. As the remaining minutes passed, elevator muzak piped into the room, presumably to put everyone in a good mood. Perhaps that worked for most of the employees, but it didn't work for Greg. He just grew more impatient—and anxious. Finally, the lights dimmed, and all of the monitors flickered over to live feeds from Afghanistan. Some of them showed the rocky exterior of the cave networks, and others the insides of the cave entrances. However, most of them seemed trained on the bars of xenomorph transport cages, as the creatures waited for their handlers to release them. Above the monitors, a digital display counted down the seconds. 10 … 9 … 8 … 7 … 6 … 5 … 4 … 3 … 2… 1 …

The cage bars raised, and-like greyhounds at the starting gates—the xenomorphs rushed out of their prisons and into the dark maze of the caves.

First row, far left: The xenomorph did not encounter any life for the first few minutes, but seemed determined to reach a target. Then, suddenly, a bearded man wearing a robe and keffiyeh popped out of the darkness, and the bug leapt for his jugular. Blood and viscera flew as the bug tore out the man's throat, then continued feasting.

Second row, far right: A xenomorph quickly reached what looked to be a family unit—man, woman, and young boy. The bug speared the woman's chest with a clawed arm, then ripped out the man's throat with the other. Finally, without missing a beat, it leapt at the boy and punched through his forehead with its inner mandibles.

Third, row, middle: A xenomorph encountered a woman and her younger daughter … then stopped. The two humans stood frozen, terrified, as the bug circled them—as if determining whether or not they were threats. The bug stopped behind the woman, then suddenly leapt onto her back and punched its inner mandibles through the back of her skull. The bug clung to her as she fell, then clambered off. Sobbing with grief, the young girl began to slowly back away from the bug, fearful of what it might do to her. However, grief turned to terror as the bug slowly approached. As the girl protectively put her arms over her fear-stricken face, the bug raised its oblong head to sniff it. Despite the seeming lack of a nose on the creature, there was no other word for the behavior. Then, in one fluid motion, the bug scampered toward the girl and … picked her up into its arms. Its mission achieved, the bug raced toward the exit tunnel.

Greg was shocked. The field test was successful. However, he quickly forced himself to appear neutrally-focused on the screens in front of him. He didn't want to betray his secret—that is was he who had trained that xenomorph to rescue the girl, rather than kill her. So, he leaned forward in his chair as the carnage unfolded.

Second row, far left: A xenomorph dragged its unconscious prey—a young adult male—to the side of the cave tunnel, and began the cocooning procedure. After hauling the limp man to his feet, the bug reared back its head and vomited resin onto his chest. It repeated the procedure over his face and the rest of the body, until the man was plastered to the cave wall.

First row, far right: A xenomorph clung to the ceiling, observing its unsuspecting prey—a robed woman in a hijab—from above. Suddenly, it spit acid from its mouth, which hit the woman's back and began to burn through her skin. Immobilized, the woman cried out in pain as the bug leapt down from the ceiling and pierced through her body with its speared tail. Its victim now dead, the bug sharply withdrew its tail, and the woman fell to the ground.

Greg looked back at that screen on the third row, just in time to see his xenomorph carry two more children through the cave exit. When it dropped them to the sandy ground, Greg saw that they were two young boys of roughly the same age.

Soon enough, all of the cave residents were either dead or—in the case of some of the children—rescued. At the cave exits, the Lieutenant in charge of the strike flashed a thumbs up to the camera, to signal that his team had successfully completed the mission. In the screening room, everyone clapped, whooped, and hollered, joyous over the important victory. Everyone, that is, but Greg and Tina. From her spot at the front, Nicolette looked suspiciously in their direction before giving each of them a subtle nod. Greg swallowed his fear, then looked over at Tina. She, too, looked frozen with shock. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at him.

"We'll get through this," he said to her softly, though not with absolute confidence.

She nodded, then stood up and followed her co-workers out of the screening room. Silently, Greg followed.