Newt hid behind my back for safety. Julia nuzzled her close, to comfort her.
Ripley stared at me uncomfortably. "Nothing against you, Ernie. I've just had a lot of bad experience with creatures like your friends, and I don't want any crawling on me for any reason."
"I understand."
She frowned. "I don't think you do."
"Make her say she's sorry," Newt said.
Rolling her eyes, Ripley answered, "I'm sorry your little friend had to climb up on my leg. If it had just kept its distance, this ugly incident would have never happened...Also, does it absolutely have to call herself Newt, or can she call herself something else instead? I'm okay with `Bert' or `Steve' or anything else, but not Newt."
So. The `non apology apology.'
"No," said Newt.
"I know how you used to like Harry Potter," I said to the larva. "How about Hermione? Or Naomi? Naomi starts with an N, and it's biblical..."
"I don't like the Judds," Newt said.
"I'll have to remember that when I have a music player. But Hermione's fine, isn't it?"
"Why can't I keep my real name?" she moaned.
"You can, little one. This is more like a nickname, or maybe a code name like they have in spy movies."
"That's dumb. I shouldn't have to change my name just so she won't hurt me."
"Perhaps. But she's not going to accept you otherwise."
Newt sobbed quietly on my shoulder. Julia tried her best to be supportive, but she could only do so much.
I stroked Newt's head as I watched Gregor loading the flamethrower with something called quinitricetyline.
"I really don't think that's a good idea," Ripley said.
"We're as good as dead anyway," the man muttered as he siphoned more fuel into the weapon's reservoir. "It's a choice between having your brain ripped out and skin grafts. Skin grafts are really sounding good right now."
As all of this exchange took place, Thonwa came limping up to our group, Big Bird walking slowly beside her, providing support. I waved to the wounded one, receiving a feeble wave in return.
"Have we come up with any plans yet?" Aaron asked. "Any strategies to stop these things?"
Ellen gave him a nod. "They can't eat through metal or stone. That's one thing we've got over them. We only need to seal off their exits, trap them somewhere, and pour in a few gallons of quinitricetyline."
"And how are we going to do that without them tearing holes in our heads?"
"We'll have to seal off a perimeter and force them back into a corner. It's the only way."
"I thought you were going to find where they lived and burn them up," I said.
"We are. Once we drive them back into their nest, we'll hit them hard."
"And what if they don't have a nest?"
"Then maybe they'll just be gone. Either way, it's an improvement."
"This prison stretches for miles in every direction," Aaron said. "There's more than six hundred air ducts and twice that many pipes."
"Right." Troy held up one of the lifeform scanners. "And this thing only has a limited range."
Gregor closed up the flamethrower. "This doesn't look like nearly enough fuel, either."
"Look," Ripley said. "These things are mostly coming out of mouse holes and old abandoned pipe systems. Like I said before, we pump a little fuel down each one, light a match, and see what burns up. All we need to do is seal off an end or two..."
"With what?" said Dillon.
The android, who had been treating the Cijmabsa, now paused to examine her handiwork. Ripley tapped her on the shoulder. "You don't have any wielding tools in your vehicle, do you?"
Big Bird shook her head. "I dismantled them to create flamethrowers. But on a positive note, it should be very simple to create a barricade with the existing pieces from our vehicle, once we find the proper equipment."
"What about those closed circuit cameras? You're a synthetic human. Surely you know enough to fix them, right?"
"I believe it is possible, but it would require special photography equipment. Substitutes may be manufactured in a fashion similar to Benjamin Franklin's invention of the eyeglass, but I require specialized tools to even commence that operation."
"Surely you can rig up something with the tools you have."
"Perhaps, but I also need to thoroughly inspect each device to determine its fault, possibly dismantling parts of the wall to access the connecting cables. We may not have enough time for a complete repair of this type, plus the worms are small and may elude detection on camera. I recommend first erecting worm resistant barriers."
Ripley sighed, turning to face Aaron. "Your salvage shop obviously has metalworking tools, or you wouldn't have been able to do a chop job on the Sulaco. We just need to seal off the area and work our way out until we trap those things in their lair."
"You're going to have to close off the junkyard. There's too many places to hide."
"I'm sure we can figure out something."
"Our lifeform detectors should be sufficient to alert us to danger when seeking barricade materials," the android said.
Ripley frowned. "I'll leave that to you, `bird.'"
"Wait," said Bent Nose. "I've seen Thwaka fight off those things on his own. Why don't we just send him out for the tools and hide back here where it's safe?"
"I just thought you guys didn't like breathing fumes."
"There are worse ways to die."
Ripley gave me a nod, her expression reminding me of the way a dog owner looks when they're waiting for their animal to sit on command.
When I didn't move, she gave me a dismissive wave. It made me feel used.
Still, my Master told me to serve, and I had actual lives to save, so I obeyed.
I couldn't easily fit beneath the Iberet, and it looked ready to topple and crush anything beneath it, so I took a roundabout path through the laundry room.
I found David and his family crouching between a pair of massive industrial driers.
"Are those things gone yet?" the man asked me.
"Not sure. Where were the men that followed you?"
His wife pointed to the door. "Outside, maybe in the desert somewhere."
"Perhaps you should go there. I'm not entirely certain you picked the safest place to hide."
"The desert isn't much safer. What do you recommend, Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik?"
I told him about the room with the fuel barrels and they departed.
I quickly made my way to the salvage yard, and after a frantic search through a plethora of tools, encountered the torches I came there for. I rushed back to the others.
David and his family now stood worriedly around Thonwa, who now rested against the rear wall of the room, appearing to enjoy the chemical fumes like they were a floral scent.
Big Bird took the torches to the Iberet, setting about constructing a barrier from the ship's outer hull, to hopefully block the end of the corridor.
It was a good idea, but Big Bird started work a minute too late. I flinched as a serpent-like body emerged from the back of the android's stomach.
She continued to work on the barrier, reacting to her injury like someone who had only received a paper cut. "Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik, could you please get that?" She used the same tone you'd use to tell someone else to answer a phone or a door chime.
I dove caught the worm by the tail, but it slipped through my claws.
A second attempt at its capture resulted in its escape. I could only struggle to keep up as it darted after my hiding friends.
The thing approached the door to the hideout. Someone had failed to close it, possibly for ventilation.
"Worm!" I shouted. "Look out!"
Gregor marched out with the flamethrower. "I got this."
He gave the worm a good dose of activated incendiary chemical, turning the beast into dust.
Unfortunately, the quinitricetyline in those barrels shared more similarities to the fuel they used in spaceships than they did the classic napalm. Not only that, but it was highly corrosive. I guess the chemical had been designed to clean up atomic spills of some sort.
Don't ask me how it happened, but the fire jumped back inside the flamethrower, like a kid foolishly squirting bug repellent from a squeeze pump bottle upon a lit match, and in a split second Gregor more or less had a container full of fire strapped to his back.
The device burst, the man's clothes blazed, and he became Johnny the Human Torch, screaming and flailing his arms. The very picture of hell.
"Drop and roll!" Ripley shouted.
The man tried to comply, but the location of his `drop' proved to be unfortunate.
Due to circumstances outside everyone's control, the flaming weapon landed next to the door of the chemical storage room.
The occupants of said room had mere seconds to run to safety. In some cases, even less than that.
The flamethrower `popped.' I would say `exploded,' but it wasn't that dramatic.
The dramatic part was the result of this `pop,' for the flames landed on a rather wet looking barrel, and a flash zipped up its side, igniting the lid...and the gallons of chemical within.
The entire room became an enormous fireball, erupting into the surrounding hallway. Prisoners screamed as they caught fire and collapsed dead on the floor.
I've already met with Jesus twice. The moment I felt the blast, I thought I'd go to meet him permanently.
Somehow I escaped, with my shell and both larvae intact.
A lot of things had happened in the space of a minute. It took me another minute to piece it all together.
David, Pillow, Sharad and Sarah were absent. Whether they were hiding in the desert or getting eaten in some prison room, I did not know, but they got spared from the conflagration.
Others were not so lucky.
Frank, the nice man who had pulled Ellen from the wreck, happened to be closest to the blast. He didn't make it.
`Ted,' the shark mouthed man with the teardrop tattoo, also bore the brunt of the explosion. I learned his name only because his friend Gregor kept shouting for him to get away from the barrels and roll on the floor.
The others lived, but suffered first to third degree burns.
Ripley got spared from the worst of it. At the last second, Thonwa spread her wings and buzzed the woman out. The woman remained intact, but fire destroyed the outer portion of my friend's shell. Nothing fatal, but it seemed she would never fly again.
The fire sprinklers came on, drenching everyone in a mixture of water and foaming fire suppressants. Newt and Julia trembled so badly I had to take them in my arms and clutch them to my chest until they calmed down.
The men began to bicker, the conflict between crooked nose (Morse) and Aaron the most pronounced. It seemed ideal to them to simply give up and wait for the rescue ship, either hiding somewhere outside or in the fire extinguished barrel room.
Ripley suddenly doubled over, leaning on a wall for support.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She straightened, taking several deep breaths. It sounded like she were breathing through a straw. "I'm fine. I just...need to find the EEV and get checked out by a medical scanner."
"Are you sure that's safe? I mean, there are worms."
"I'll manage."
"The infirmary is nearby. Why don't you just find Pillow and have her check you out? She is a doctor..."
Ripley shook her head. "Thank you, but no. Even if I trusted her, those things could easily drop on me from the ceiling..."
"What about Big Bird?"
"I don't trust her, either. Not after that `twitchy' Bishop unit I ran to on the Nostromo. Pulled a Manchurian Candidate and choked a man to death with a rolled up magazine. Version Two saved my life, but I can't expect that courtesy again, from any synthetic."
"Okay. Good luck."
"I'll come with you," Aaron said.
"Thanks. I think I will need someone..."
She continued unsteadily down the corridor, Aaron following close behind, anticipating a fall.
I found Sarah, David and David's little family gathered in an art room across from the morgue, speaking to Grandmother.
Not the most secure room in the prison, but it did prove rather featureless and airtight in places. Tables had been pushed aside to accommodate for Grandmother's large body, but a few remained, and I could see the basic sort of crafts the prison allowed, or allowed years ago, judging by the dust. Crinkled watercolors hung by paper tape so shriveled that it threatened to drop them from the walls. Oil and chalk pastels, mostly still lifes of a potted plant that had since turned brown and fallen inside its vase, and a handful of clay pots that had probably been fired in the refinery. Some ingenious person had even crafted a few glass items, I suppose making use of the plentiful silica that surrounded the facility. I had nobody with me to interpret these things, so I could only conjecture about each item's history.
The closed circuit camera was alive and working, as previously mentioned.
"You have to tell her eventually," David said to Grandmother. "She's not going to be happy, but she needs to know."
What were they talking about? I wondered as I crept through the doorway. I didn't ask, but I wondered.
"Will she forgive me?" Grandmother asked.
"I...honestly, that's kind of hard for anyone to forgive."
"Except God," Sarah added.
"Yes," said Pillow. "God has already forgiven you. As he has already forgiven my husband."
Sarah, seated next to Mrs. Barnes, away from David, suddenly looked very small. "I spent most my life in a tank. I seriously didn't know that there was anything wrong with sleeping with another woman's husband, if you really loved him..."
"Miss Sarah, you are the only person in the history of mankind who can legitimately use that as an excuse." Pillow cleared her throat. "Which is why the onus of blame rests squarely on my husband's shoulders. He failed to resist temptation, and correct the morally weak."
"Forgive..." Grandmother scolded. "Please."
She spun around to face me. "I heard a noise. What's happening out there?"
I told her about the worm, and the quinitricetyline, though not using its proper term, because I was uncertain about how to pronounce or even spell the substance on paper.
"Why don't you just eat them?" Grandmother asked.
My jaw distended in dismay. "Eat them? But I thought that would kill me, or turn me into another worm possessed Ssorzechola."
Grandmother shook her large head. "I would have made the suggestion sooner, but I really don't care for the taste, and I guess I was a little full from lunch. Okay, maybe not that. I guess I just dreaded having to eat those things again. I already had a few outside that flying machine a few minutes ago." She belched, looking upset to her stomach. "I really hoped you could eliminate them by some other means, but it solves the problem of our hunger..."
"The Lord provides..." I was feeling a little peckish myself. My stomach rumbled. "For both of us, it seems."
"You appear to be right about the Bird Lilies of the Field, granddaughter."
She had her parables mixed up, but I was pleased that she at least got the idea.
"Can I eat too?" said Julia.
"You probably will have to eventually. Let's go visit Ripley at the EEV. She'll probably be happy to hear the news. And twice as happy if we find something there to eat."
"Should I come along?" Grandmother asked me.
"No. I believe there is greater need for you among the other humans. The worms are likely headed their way."
I must apologize for my lack of insight. If I had only discussed all of this with Grandmother sooner, a lot of people would not have died. There also wouldn't have been much of a story, but that's beside the point (1).
There's a lot of things I could have done differently, throughout my life. I certainly would have saved a lot more human lives on LV 426, but I guess I'm not as smart as I'd like to be. Maybe it's all that brain damage I've experienced, taking its toll. Or maybe it's just a weakness in my genetics, like how Grandmother can let herself get shot out of an airlock twice in a row.
I found Ripley stretched out in her underwear inside the EEV's cryo pod.
The pod had been cannibalized in my absence. I had noticed this during my previous trip to the `chop shop', but now, as the woman used the machinery, I could tell that much had been dismantled. Before, you would have been unable to simply walk up to the opening and climb into a pod.
Aaron assisted the woman, pushing buttons on the medical device. A lighted mechanical bar slowly traveled up the length of her body like a flatbed scanner element in an old computer.
"Ripley," I asked. "Do you believe in God?"
She let out a bitter laugh. "If there is one, he's a real asshole. No loving God would have allowed half the shit that's happened in my life to take place. And I'm not just talking about myself. All those innocent astronauts, colonists, marines, even children, for Christsakes! And now these (God condemned) worms! Where the hell is God in all of this? Why didn't he do anything to stop it?"
I sighed, not knowing how to respond. I was never really good with this type of apologetics. "Perhaps you were not meant to save those people. Perhaps you were instead sent save the souls of the enemy. For the Lord."
"Xenomorphs," she scoffed. "For Jesus."
"Yes. Like Grandmother. You see, the message of salvation has already been presented to those humans you spoke of. But my family..."
Ripley rolled her eyes. "I'd much prefer they all go to hell."
"Perhaps the Lord thinks differently."
The woman looked away. "All the more reason why me and the Almighty are not on speaking terms."
In contrast, Aaron, whose religion (Scientology) teaches him that he's an alien anyway, actually appeared to be inspired by the thought.
A worm slithered around the corner of the EEV, giving Aaron a start. "Jesus!"
Ripley tensed up, shrinking back into the cryo pod like it were someplace safe to go. "God!"
I grabbed the worm and took one great big bite, as if tearing off the end of a sub sandwich. I ate quickly, before it could regrow itself.
I would compare the taste to salmon, earwax, and moldy bread. Not for the faint of heart.
"I thought you were going to give us some!" Julia complained.
"I will, children. But not here. I don't want to put the humans in danger."
Ripley glared at me. "All this fighting and death, and you can just eat them?"
If one were able to see a Ss'sik'chtokiwij blushing, this would have been a perfect time. "I'm sorry. I was...afraid to try. I have instructed Grandmother to start eating the others." Then, to avoid offense, "Other worms."
The woman smacked her face. "I suppose I should be thankful that we've found a solution at all."
Aaron returned his attention to the pod's monitor, staring at the image with bewilderment. "What am I supposed to be looking at here?"
"Dark blotches around the rib area. Signs of internal bleeding from hairline fractures. Injuries to the base of the skull. They usually show up as dark patches or white lines."
Aaron's eyes narrowed as he moved the scanner upwards. The image was blurry, a dark pulsating shape overlapping the woman's rib cage. "I don't see any fractures, but there's something else..."
He nervously turned his head in my direction, stared at Julia. "I think you've got one of those inside of you."
The woman's skin, already pale under the harsh fluorescents, dropped another shade of pigmentation. "That's not possible."
Aaron's face already dripped with sweat, but I think I detected a bit more coming down.
"What's it look like?" Ripley asked.
"Horrible."
"It can't be that ugly," I muttered.
The woman sat up. "I have to see."
Aaron swallowed. "You don't want to look. Believe me, you don't."
"Freeze the image. I want to see."
She told Aaron how to do this. All three of us stared at the display.
"Oh God," she whispered. "Jesus Christ." Knowing you're about to die does put one in a prayerful mood.
"Amen," I said.
She adjusted the picture, and the body of a perfectly formed little Ss'sik'chtokiwij came into focus, with its small dainty claws, plump body, and adorable little tail.
Ripley bowed her head and wept.
If a human walks into the maternity ward and gazes at all the babies, the general reaction is to `squee' at all the cuteness, and look rather strangely at those who don't. I experienced a similar emotion here, prompting me to commit a social faux pas.
I smiled, placing my claw on the screen. "Awww..."
The woman turned to face me, giving me a look that could curdle milk.
My smile faded. "...I'm sorry."
Ellen picked up a spanner, waving it threateningly at my head. "You! You did this to me!"
"Ripley, how could I possibly place that larva inside you? (2) You left me for dead on LV 426! I'm only here by the kindness of David and his friends!"
She backed away from me, her fist clenching tighter around the handle. "It was your mother, then. Had to be. She's the only other adult xenomorph in this prison."
"She's my Grandmother. My mother's dead."
"Thank God for small miracles." She turned the spanner around in her hand. "Where is the bitch now?"
"I dropped her remains into a volcano."
Ripley sighed in annoyance. "I meant your Grandmother."
I swallowed. "Oh. You really shouldn't. At least, not until she devours all those worms..."
The woman dropped to her knees and wept.
"It serves you right!" Newt growled. "Maybe once that Ss'sik'chtokiwij bursts from your chest, and you have this body, you'll know how badly you treated the friend you almost died trying to save!"
Ripley raised her hand in Newt's direction, slowly extending her middle finger.
She got dressed, casting me a look of pure hate as she stomped away.
Concerned about the new infant, I located Grandmother and asked her about it.
The big Ss'sik'chtokiwij swallowed a particularly large juicy worm. "So I left a few details out of my story. I mean, if I'm going to all the trouble of laying an egg in the small one's body, it goes without saying that I would lay one in the larger host as well." She sighed. "I must admit, it was done from an unforgiving heart. If it were possible to take the larva back, I would."
She gave Newt an apologetic look. "That goes for both of you."
I patted Grandmother on the shoulder. "I know the feeling."
The next hour or so was basically `meal time' for us Ss'sik'chtokiwij. I and Grandmother hunted down the worms, sharing them with each other, and the larvae, Grandmother eating a considerable quantity.
It was a little tricky feeding the larvae, but they understood the worms had to be eaten with haste, so we only had one minor incident, merely resulting in me being a bit fuller than I wished to be.
In our absence, Big Bird had patched herself up. She now scanned the pipes and ventilation systems for worms. She informed me that Ripley had been asking questions about me, checking the facts of my story.
A bony, goony looking man named Postlethwaite took the android's other scanner, and between them, they uncovered the worms I and my family couldn't quite locate on our own, luckily without the loss of life or personal injury.
Ripley tolerated all of this as a means to an end, but she stalked Grandmother from a distance, fixing her with the cold killer's stare, like the man from the movie Death Wish.
Grandmother tried to make amends by apologizing. "I am sorry I laid that egg in your chest, Ripley. I wish I could safely remove the larva from your body, but I cannot. I don't know how."
This only earned her an icy stare and a pair of angrily trembling fists. The woman's heart had hardened like that of Pharaoh in the bible.
Alas. Moving on.
Nobody wanted to use the infirmary, of course, so the burn victims lay in prison cells while Pillow treated and bandaged their wounds.
David now stayed close to her, holding the baby, keeping Sharad out of trouble. Sarah, feeling estranged, chose to tag along with me.
Satisfied for the time being that the worms were being taken care of, Ripley and Aaron returned to the superintendent's office to send out an emergency distress message, or maybe cancel one. I was too busy to observe the activity, but the woman came out looking furious, like they had sent a message she didn't want sent. Aaron just looked guilty.
I asked the latter what was going on.
Once out of the woman's earshot, he muttered, "She wanted me to tell the rescue ship to go away. They're ten hours from here, but she thinks someone is going to use you and that thing in her chest as a biological weapon. I'm just supposed to lie and say we have an infectious disease."
He shook his head. "I have a wife and child! I go home on the next rotation!"
I went to check on Grandmother and found her sprawled in the back hallway, groaning from a bloated stomach. I tried to ask Pillow if she knew anything to treat such a malady in a Ss'sik'chtokiwij, but she was busy talking to Ripley about the impregnation.
"I'm not sure how I can help you," the Abreya said as she treated Gregor's many burns. "The Iberet is a wreck, and the surgical equipment you need is permanently attached to the ship. Maybe Big Bird could pull it out, but you might die before the machinery is in working order."
Ripley sighed. "Don't you have a portable unit?"
Pillow shook her head. "Not for the delicate type of operation you're describing."
I could see desperation in the woman's face. "What if we climb up inside the wreckage and I strap myself down to something? Could you do it then?"
"I'm sorry. Only Zadoori knows how to operate that machine. I don't want to kill you."
"I'm going to die anyway."
Pillow didn't answer. She only put her hands on her hips, snapping her tail in frustration.
Ripley glanced at David, but he only shrugged.
"What about Big Bird? Would she know how to operate it?"
"I'm not sure."
The android, who had been in the middle of blocking off a vent, stopped her work to contemplate Ripley's request. "That is not part of my programming."
"Then what the fuck good are you, then?" the woman shouted. "(God condemn) it!"
Finally, a specific object to be condemned. Although I didn't agree that a poor unborn Ss'sik'chtokiwij larva deserved God's eternal punishment, grammatically, it was correct.
The woman stared at me now. "You're the expert on these things. Is there any way you can, I don't know, coax the thing out safely? Make it crawl out a non-vital organ or something?"
"I'm sorry. Even if I knew how to do that, I'm afraid you would still die."
Refusing to take no for an answer, she returned to Pillow, now busily treating Morse's burns. "Like I said, I'm dying anyway. Either I use the machine in your spaceship, or I take a knife and a pair of pliers and do the operation myself."
Ripley looked so deadly serious when she said this that Pillow could only nod and do as she asked.
Thanks to Big Bird's hatchet job on the vehicle, we easily found a way into the wreckage.
David and Big Bird came along to provide whatever limited assistance they could, Sarah and Sharad following us, only to observe, and hold the baby.
As we passed through the living room, I grabbed another quick bite. We'd missed a worm. With so much food in my belly, I thought I would burst a seam.
The lab, of course, was skewed in an inconvenient angle. We helped the woman into a standing position on the table, strapping her down, or rather, sideways. Big Bird and Pillow then set about activating the computer systems necessary to run the equipment.
"Warning," Mara's voice said via the intercom. She sounded rather sickly, like a broken tape recorder. "Electrical system at thirty five percent capacity. Not advisable to perform surgical operations on current supply."
"Then reroute the power, dammit!" Ripley cried. "I want this abomination out of me now!"
"Power has already been rerouted," Mara said.
"Then use the damn thing on low power! A creature is about to tear its way out of my respiratory system. Death by malpractice will be a blessing in disguise!" (4)
Big Bird gave Pillow a look that said no, but David and his wife disagreed, so they activated the robotic arm.
All the machine did was make the angry whirring sound of a paper shredder ruined by overloading and staples, emitting a smell like an overheated electric mixer. The arm came forward, but only twitched back and forth in front of the woman (or above, if the floor was aligned that way), broken watch hand style. Big Bird made several attempts to fix it, but to no avail.
The woman swore, then sobbed in despair(3).
Since nothing more could be done, I departed.
We found Dillon waiting patiently outside. "How did it go?" (The man had been briefed on the situation beforehand).
Ripley stumbled out. "Not so good. You can probably guess that from the fact I'm still up and walking around." She sighed. "Listen. I've got a favor to ask. Can I speak to you in private?"
Dillon nodded, and the two walked away. I thought it rude to follow, so I didn't pry.
Pillow snatched the baby out of Sarah's arms like the girl were diseased, or a criminal, turning to face her husband. "Honey, you have to name this child. The children keep calling him Yoda and Geordi and all sorts of other ridiculous things. He needs to have a good Christian name."
David looked unsettled.
"I know he's not yours, but if we're going to make this marriage work, you'll have to be a man and step up to duties like this. Besides, this one's easy."
"Nathan," David said without hesitation.
Pillow stared at him. "Is there...any particular significance to that, or did you just pick that at random?"
"Nathan the prophet rebuked King David for the sin of adultery and the killing of Uriah the Hittite."
"Ah. I remember that story." She looked thoughtful. "You've been thinking about this some time, haven't you?"
"Yeah. Still can't think of a name for mine..."
"They're both yours," she said with an edge to her voice.
He nodded uncomfortably. "I meant, our second one."
"What do you think about Quana?"
"That's...a good one. You certain it's going to be a girl?"
She nodded. "You know, I was going to name the boy after the Quaceb prophet Yars. Or Gom the patriarch. Nathan is better."
"We can always use Yars as his middle name."
"Nathan Yars Barnes," she repeated. "It's beautiful."
David cringed. "Now that you say it out loud, it sounds kind of stupid."
She turned blue in indignation. "Why."
"Gom just sounds better."
The blue faded from her face. "Oh. You meant the name itself sounded stupid."
Sarah opened her mouth and closed it again.
"Yeah," David stammered. "I didn't mean..."
Pillow smiled a little. "Forget it."
"Look. If your heart is set on Yars, we can keep it. It's not that stupid."
"Yars was a holy Abreya. And it sounds better if we go by tradition and call him by his Abreya name, Pulsa Nathan Yars."
David rolled his eyes. "But then you're making it into a middle name!"
"Have you forgotten Wava sentence structure so quickly?"
"Okay, okay. So he still keeps Nathan as his first name. But we've had this conversation before. I'm not taking your last name. I'm the man, so it stays Barnes!"
"Relax, Mr. Sexually Insecure! I was only referring to your son."
"Sexually insecure! What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
The female's face took on the expression of a contestant on Jeopardy trying to figure out the Daily Double. "...Masculinity? Is that the right word?"
David nodded, looking somewhat less angry. "Oh. I suppose it's all right..."
I decided to do a patrol for future meals. A prisoner had found me an oversized metal case that would serve nicely as a lunch box. Along the way, I passed Grandmother. She remained where I'd seen her last, sleeping off her big meal like a human after Thanksgiving.
As I stared, listening to her snore, I heard a voice saying, "Now I know why she didn't attack me. I'm part of the family now."
I looked up at the woman. I still thought she looked better with hair.
Grandmother awoke with a start, turning her head toward the source of the noise.
Ellen knelt next to the big Ss'sik'chtokiwij's head, unafraid. "You've been in my life so long, I can't remember anything else."
She leaned closer, practically pressing her face up to Grandmother's mouth. "Now do something for me. Do what you do best. Kill me."
Grandmother shook her head in annoyance. "Can't. Too full."
"Kill me!" Ripley screamed in her face. "Kill me!"
When Grandmother refused to act, Ripley pounded the Ss'sik'chtokiwij's shell with her fists.
Grandmother just groaned and gave the woman a gentle shove, sending her sailing into a nearby wall. (5)
Ripley asked God to condemn Grandmother to hell. For a human who didn't believe in God, she sure swore oaths in His name a lot.
The woman grabbed my claw, whispering conspiratorially. "Ernie, I need to speak to you alone." The look in her eyes implied that she wished to meet outside of Grandmother's range of hearing.
We stepped into a nearby store room. For some reason, she didn't seem to care that I had brought my larvae along. "I need to ask you a big favor. There are men coming to this prison, men that want to use you and your...grandmother as weapons for the government. I need you to take grandma to the foundry and push her in. If you can't do that, just act like you're showing her something, and, I don't know, trip her or something."
"How can you ask me to do that!" I shouted. "She's my own flesh and blood!"
"Don't think about that. Think about all the human lives you'll be saving. Lives that will be tragically lost if your grandmother sticks around long enough to get captured by that organization."
"She's sworn not to hurt anybody. She loves Jesus. How about I just take her out into the desert and hide?"
"They'll find you. This is the only way."
I shook my head. "I'll have to say `no' on that!"
"Fuck. I was hoping we would be able to do this the easy way, with your help, but I guess not. Regardless, Ernie, Thwaka, whatever you call yourself, your grandmother is going to be in that molten lead, even if it means me dying in the attempt."
"It's been nice knowing you."
She glared at me. "Just for that, when I finish with your grandmother, I'll have a special place in that lead for both you and your little friends." Ellen stiffened her back, fixing me with a fiery glare. "See you in hell, Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik!"
She stomped off before I could find out how she learned how to pronounce my name.
This exchange troubled me deeply. I wasn't sure what to make of it. Did she really intend to harm Grandmother? If so, how did she intend to accomplish such a colossal feat?
From what I could best understand, her last battle with Grandmother required the use of a walking automatic forklift, and the quinitricetyline was all destroyed in the explosion. This lead me to wonder what sort of primitive implement she would employ to attempt such an impossible undertaking. Certainly Grandmother would never stomp into that hot foundry on her own volition!
Let's just say I found it very difficult to take this threat seriously.
For the moment, it seemed we had run out of worms. My lunch box was still empty. I, Julia and Newt laid down next to Grandmother and rested while Big Bird sealed up the gaps in the walls.
Newt appeared to be warming up to Grandmother. Although not quite at the point of hugging her or being too close, she tolerated her in the way a kidnapped child tolerates a captor who does nothing but treat them like family for the duration of their abduction. A wary, uncomfortable sort of friendly respect.
Sarah tried to lay down beside us, but she found our exoskeletons too hard for her liking, so she folded up some blankets against Grandmother's stomach and rested that way instead.
Someone shook me awake. I looked up and saw Andrews' digital camera pointed in my face.
Why was Ripley taking a picture of me? I wondered. I couldn't imagine myself to be a worthy entry in her scrapbook of happy memories, nor her social media website, assuming she even had one.
My only guess was that maybe she intended to `blow the whistle' on some Weyland operation, and I was proof. "Say `aah'."
I obeyed before thinking about it. Once she had taken her snapshot, she made a rolling motion with her hand. When I failed to comprehend, she added, "Make that thing come out."
I extended my suaakudsi, and she took a picture. "What's this about?"
Instead of answering, she just gave me a dirty look and marched away.
I was tired, and thought the pictures were of no importance, so I returned to my rest.
Sudden cries of alarm awakened me.
When I rushed to investigate, I found the bodies of the three men Grandmother had killed when she first arrived, lined up in a row inside a store room. Prisoners stood staring at them with uneasy expressions on their faces. Unease, but not terror, because they were killers.
The victims had been mostly consumed, but after her conversion, Grandmother had an attack of conscience and left their faces untouched. It looked very bad for Grandmother and me.
"This was from before my Grandmother accepted the Lord," I told the men. "She no longer follows that sinful path."
Gregor, now swaddled in bandages, eyed me with suspicion. "Was Reverend Jim part of this `sinful path'?"
My jaw distended. "Reverend...Jim?"
"The prison chaplain," Ripley said, leaning in the doorway. "Big guy. His body is in that little supply closet across the hall from the church."
I could only frown in dismay.
Ripley locked eyes with Aaron, stabbing a finger in my direction. "You know how I told you earlier that destroying these things wasn't a priority?...It just became a priority."
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Aaron asked. "I mean, what if there's more of those worms hiding around somewhere?"
Ripley was unconvinced. "What if that's the last of them, and Thwaka's friends suddenly get hungry?"
She showed him a camera photo of my suaakudsi. "What if you've got your back turned on one of them, and this goes through your head?"
Aaron stared at me in horror, cautiously retreating. One by one, as Ripley passed the camera around, the other prisoners did the same.
Facing all those distrustful stares, I wanted to run out the door and hide elsewhere, but shoving my way past that hateful woman would only reinforce the violent bloodthirsty image she had created for me. Instead, I backed into a corner.
"My people are fully capable of fasting-" I protested. I would have said more, but I got interrupted.
"If that's true, explain the prison chaplain."
I could not. Grandmother never told me about this one.
"I will discuss this with my Grandmother. She is still a young Christian, and requires godly correction."
"I agree to that! As soon as I find a good weapon, she'll receive all the correction she needs." The woman marched up to me, hands on her hips. "Tell you what. I can't let the Weyland people find you or your family alive, but I'll make you a deal. You stay out of my way, and let me destroy your `grandma', and I'll ensure that you and your friends die in a quick humane fashion."
With that, she left.
I rushed out, telling Grandmother what had just happened. Ripley wasn't present, probably because she still had to find a weapon.
Grandmother, still being full and sleepy, didn't exactly have full coherence. "Let her try. She has no fake exoskeleton or boom booms. What's she going to do? Beat me to death with a rock?"
"You are right. I have heard that even those fire extinguishers are used up." I paused. "In addition to those three men and their dog, I have been told you killed another. A large human, a fat one, with no hair."
"They all have no hair."
"Yes, but this one was separate from the others you killed."
"That was from before. When I converted, you told me to finish eating the other ones. I wasn't sure if you meant that one too, so I left him mostly intact."
"I am pleased to hear that, Grandmother. I would not have been happy if you had returned to your old life of sin. Are you certain there are no more victims?"
Grandmother nodded. "I would not dishonor my Lord by taking another human life."
I pressed my shell against hers. "I am happy to hear this."
I brought Julia into my arms, gazing at her with concern. "Little one, I have been so busy that I have not yet shared minds with you. I fear you do not understand the full meaning of Christ in a Ss'sik'chtokiwij context."
My daughter purred, amused by my worry. "You fear that I will murder a human out of hunger or misguided religious beliefs, like Sydjea."
My mouth fell open in shock. "Why, yes," I stammered.
"You need not fear, mother. You went through a lot of trouble to give me a death free birth. This is not something I take lightly. In addition to this, I have shared minds with the best human evangelist on planet Pathilon, and have already been instructed that man was made in the image of God. It is for this reason I will never take a human life. Also, I have seen what Ss'sik'chtokiwij have done in Wuxrinus and Delos, and it is terrible. I am sorrowful to ever know the name of Zobaruc."
Grandmother let out a deep sigh, like she were somehow familiar with the name, but when I asked, she just shook her head and said, "I do not remember much. It is only a vague memory implanted by the socmavaj that laid me (6)."
"Mother," said Julia. "Is it really true that if a human male lies on his back during the act of sexual reproduction, the offspring he produces will automatically be female?"
I stared at her incredulously. "Who told you that?"
"It was among David's thoughts."
"I...do not believe that human chromosomes are that simple to select. I have heard it is quite difficult for certain couples to produce male offspring, no matter what they do."
"Oh."
Although it somewhat disturbed me that Julia was learning such bizarre superstitions, I was content enough to know that she at least understood the more important things of the faith. To make sure she knew everything important, in fact..."Do you believe in Jesus as your Lord?"
She nodded. "Why would I not? This...being is the defining force in David's life. It explains so much of his behavior, with the exception of his sexual affair. Jesus' lessons that there is more to life than merely eating and killing and reproducing is profound. I am happy to be among other Ss'sik'chtokiwij who feel the same and can help me grow in the faith."
I hugged her.
"I ruined David's marriage, didn't I?"
"No. I think David did."
"But I was the one who brought David and Sarah's minds together. I experienced Sarah's memories, the years of isolation, the loneliness...When I joined minds with David, I had few memories of my own to bring, but many of hers. She had fantasies. About reproduction. He saw them. I could sense that these appealed to him."
"That certainly didn't help. Especially when you played matchmaker. But it it is David's fault that he did not resist temptation."
"He was so certain that he and Pillow could not reproduce..."
"Yes. To be honest, I still do not know if such a thing is truly possible. I would not say that Pillow is lying, but she may be genuinely mistaken."
Julia shrugged. "With God, all things are possible."
Ironically, after a short nap, the man we had just discussed came rushing up to us. "Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik, how many people has your mother killed?"
"A lot," Newt said.
"But only four in this prison," I added in her defense. "She is a changed Ss'sik'chtokiwij. Those were the last humans she will ever killed."
David stared at me like I were a tough algebra problem. "I'm not saying you're wrong, Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik, but there are a total of seven bodies."
I glanced back at Grandmother in alarm. "Let me see them."
Three bodies lay arranged in a neat row outside the infirmary, all looking rather suspicious.
We were the only ones present at the scene. The prisoners, I suppose, had already viewed what was there to view.
Their faces had been badly burned, or, more accurately, melted, rendering them unrecognizable to other prisoners. They had holes in their heads, similar to what a suaakudsi would make, but nothing looked quite natural.
"Were these bodies cleaned?" I asked.
David looked even more puzzled. "What do you mean, `cleaned'?"
"Where's the blood? There's no sign of struggle. And their skin...It's oddly pale."
He summoned Big Bird to investigate.
"These bodies show signs of decomposition inconsistent with a recent Ss'sik'chtokiwij attack." The android leaned over a victim. "They are all in late stages of rigor. Also note the lack of defensive wounds. Furthermore, the residue of this acid is oddly clean for Ss'sik'chtokiwij saliva."
She pried open the corpse's skull a little, peering inside as indifferently as one would look into a purse. "It is as I thought. The victim died of brain cancer. The wounds you see were created posthumously. I suspect someone has been dressing up cadavers."
As she knelt to examine a second body, a bullet ripped open her skull in a spray of milky white coolant. She stiffened, tunelessly reciting the words to the Siamese song from Lady and the Tramp.
"Whoa!" David yelped, jumping to his feet. "Shit!"
At the end of the hallway stood a group of bald figures in shabby clothes, all armed with assault weaponry.
"That's not fair!" David cried. "They can't have guns!"
"Where did they get these guns from?" I asked.
"Dunno. Maybe something washed up on the shore?"
I was about to respond, but just then someone up the hallway shouted, "Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik!"
I ducked a half second before a burst of automatic fire came rattling for my head.
[0000]
1. Yes, this is an idiot plot, they could have saved lives just by eating the worms, but like the Aliens plot I wrote, if Ernie had been better at her job, the abundance of living colonists would have completely destroyed the canon plot, and left me in a confusing wilderness of flat characters. I'd have to flesh them out, and in doing so, they'd mess up the story and not know how to end it.
I could probably write some stories about this, but it would take forever, and I wouldn't be able to write anything else. Plus, well, the barrels of stuff have to catch fire for some reason. Anyways, the biggest complaints about the Ernie story came at the beginning of the Alien 3 plot, or before it.
2. Alternate ("Peacekeeper") paragraph, for preserving continuity:
"...I was with David, and the Iberet was orbiting LV 426, picking up Big Bird and Sarah!"
The woman frowned.
3. Alternate plot idea: They successfully remove the larva.
4. Honestly, that kind of death would probably make more sense than the ending I originally wrote.
5. For this scene alone, I'm leaving most of the story as-is. Refer to the Dream Neighborhood chapter for a list of alternate plots I've put on the permanent back burner. Especially take note of the "Too Many Flat Characters Left Alive" section.
6. I could potentially do a full-on story about this one and Abreyas sometime, but again, there's too many of these and not enough time, or interested readers.