I groaned on the floor, clutching my head as I stared at the poorly garbed female figure. "Hey! I'm trying to save a child's life!"
The curly haired woman only glared at me, kneeling next to the little supine body.
She pulled the child free from my slime bands, ripped the mask off the child's face. "Newt! Are you all right? Speak to me!"
The girl coughed up liquid, rolled over and vomited on the floor.
Ripley cast me a glare that seemed to say, `I can't stand it when you're right.'
The first aid kit contained a silver blanket. I only knew it wasn't a liner when she brought it out and draped it over the child's body. I tried not to make mental comparisons to a burrito in aluminum foil. It seemed those steaks hadn't quite sated my appetite.
The woman glanced back at me again, her facial expression now seemingly: `I don't want to trust you, but I guess I have to.'
With that, she actually turned her back on me, helping Mr. Hicks out of his pod.
Gasping, Newt gathered the silver blanket around herself and sat up, watching her.
Hicks didn't appear to be conscious or breathing. The woman laid him out on the floor, commencing CPR the old fashioned way.
After several breaths and chest compressions, she cast me a disgusted look and pointed. "Ernie, make yourself useful and bring me that thing."
Baffled, I lifted the CPR machine. "This?"
The look on her face said `What an idiot!' "No! The shocker paddles! Hurry!"
I rushed the defibrillator to her. She didn't know how to use it, but it had voice prompts, so she progressed to jolting the man like an EMT. A little more CPR and the man gasped, broke into a coughing fit, and vomited.
Unpleasant smells, and sights. I didn't envy the person that would have to clean up.
Hicks sat up. The man looked in terrible shape, half his face scarred by third degree burns, missing an eye, arms and legs bandaged. "Whoo. You want to try that again? I still got some ribs you haven't broken yet!"
Ripley scoffed. "I just saved your life. You're welcome!"
"I probably would have enjoyed the mouth to mouth more if I hadn't been unconscious." He flinched and swore when he noticed me. "Ripley, I know I was in a delirium and out of it due to the intense pain, but why in God's name did you bring that damn thing onboard? Its buddies wiped out our entire platoon!"
"I was about to ask her the same question." Ripley threw a second foil blanket over the man, then stomped up to me, hands balling into fists. "What the hell is going on! How the fuck did you get out?"
"In case you haven't noticed, the power's out! I didn't have any air, so I had to do something! Your pods were failing too."
Ripley put her hands on her hips, scowling at me. Newt cast us both questioning looks.
Steam puffed out of Hicks' mouth. He pulled the blanket tight around himself. "Shit, I think the thing's right. Notice the lights, and how much the temperature's dropped? We could have run into a debris field, or an electrical storm...or maybe we've got some of this thing's buddies onboard."
I sighed. "I didn't see anyone but you three...And a mouse."
Hicks snorted through his nose. "I think ET's been smoking something. We have these ships checked out for pests before they even leave the ground."
"Not important." Ripley clenched fists at the sides of her elastic waistband, glowering at me. "How the hell did you get out?"
"It wasn't easy. I came close to drowning before I melted through that padlock you installed!...I thought you would appreciate being spared from respiratory failure!" I ignored Hicks' scoffing. "Did you know the life support on your pods stopped functioning?"
"Yeah," Hicks muttered. "Probably because of you."
I could tell the woman wanted to strike me. Badly.
She sighed through her nose. "We need to get to the bridge and see what's going on."
"Wonderful idea, but" Hicks pointed at me. "Shouldn't we...do something about this thing first?"
To my surprise, Ripley defended me, albeit with clear reluctance. "Hicks, she's had several opportunities to harm us, but yet hasn't done anything that I'd consider threatening."
"Yet." Hicks shook his head. "What about that whole egg laying thing? Maybe it just wants us alive to bear its babies!"
I considered speaking in my own defense throughout this conversation, but thought it best to take a guarded approach. Plus, honestly couldn't trust myself and my own body, so I figured whatever they decided would be justified. Also, didn't think helping drop Grandmother into the void of space was something to brag about.
I only spoke when all three humans looked at me like I'd already impregnated them. "To the best of my knowledge, none of you are bearing larva. If any of you are experiencing breathing discomfort, I believe you may have medical equipment onboard that can perform the necessary scans."
Hicks narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying we could still be carrying your larva?"
I sniffed. "You are not bearing the scent, but sometimes it is difficult to tell. Have you been attacked? In an intimately physical manner?"
He laughed. "By one of you guys? No."
"Are you experiencing any unusual heaviness in the chest or upper body? Respiratory problems?"
The man appeared to become short of breath simply due to me mentioning it. "Not...that I'm aware..."
Fearing that I may have sleepwalked during a period of lust (before being stuck in the freezer, of course), I said nothing further.
"Ripley, can we please blow this thing's head open? It's making me awfully nervous!"
"Not...yet."
"Why the hell not?"
Ripley frowned. "It's complicated. I don't like it either. In fact, I had her locked in a freezer and she got out somehow."
"Okay, so why haven't you put a bullet through the thing's brain already?"
Newt cast me a look that seemed to agree, but instead blurted, "My pod broke and she helped me breathe."
"Kid, how do you know it didn't break your pod in the first place?"
Newt had no answer to this.
So far I'd held my tongue, but now I had to say something. "I'm only out here because the power failed, and my...life support machinery stopped working."
I could tell by the look on Hicks' face that he didn't believe me, even when the lights dimmed and we lost gravity for a moment.
Ripley had that fierce, determined look on her face, the same kind I'd seen when she'd faced down Grandmother with that yellow mechanical thing. "We need to get to the bridge."
"What about the bug?"
"Pretend it's not there. That's what I do."
"Pretend all you want, I don't even want that thing standing next to me."
"Either stay behind in the room, or straighten your panties and come with me."
Hicks laughed. "Yes, ma'am." But under his breath, he muttered, "Gonna find a fucking gun."
Still improperly dressed, the woman led us three into the corridor.
We lost gravity again, using handholds and footholds to traverse the corridor. Globs of water hovered through the air, clinging to my shell and my companions' already damp clothing.
Hicks brushed a glob away from his chest, getting wet in the process. "What, is the air conditioner leaking too?"
I gave an apologetic smile. "That's...probably from my tank."
"Oh lovely! Any more wonderful surprises for us up ahead?"
I shook my head.
"Is Grandmother gone?" Newt asked me in Ss'sik'chtokiwij.
"Who knows? She's been jettisoned out into space..."
A mouse floated in front of Newt's face, legs busy with useless scurrying. The same one from the cargo bay or a family member? Not sure.
"Son of a bitch, that thing was right!" Hicks muttered. "I thought I tasted mouse droppings in those rations!"
A normal little girl would have screamed, but all those days of privation, living off canned goods, scraps and occasional garbage had taken its toll. Hicks had just barely mentioned the mouse and she had the mouse in her hand, shoving it between her lips.
She yelped as it bit her. Not a frightened sound, more like being indignant about her food putting up a fight.
Ripley dove back, grabbing Newt by the chin. "Get that thing out of your mouth! Are you trying to get a disease?"
The girl stuck out her tongue, mouse balanced on the end like some kind of circus act with a lion. The look in her eyes said `Mom, you're such a drag.'
"Feh, the little girl's probably eaten worse. I'm surprised those hamsters were still alive." Hicks clicked his teeth at her. "Careful, you won't have room for lunch."
Ripley slapped the mouse away, casting him the look a wife gives a husband who lets his boy stay out late on a school night. "Just the same, I'd rather not have her die from food poisoning after we just rescued her from those things." She grabbed the girl's hand, dragging her up the corridor.
The mouse, in the meantime, rolled end over end in the air, pawing at its fur like `Can't get these disgusting human germs off me!'
We passed through an army sized cafeteria. Red emergency lights. A plethora of scents, food, people, cigars, boot polish, all ancient and fading. Oh, and I spotted a cockroach.
I noticed one cafeteria table marred with innumerable knife marks, in the shape of a human hand. I caught old chemical scents, android scents.
To one end, they had a hydroponics bay. I could see much from the round window, but since it resembled Swamp Thing in a washing machine, and smelled of boiled spinach, I assumed they made use of algae to produce the station's oxygen.
The other side of the cafeteria held a recreation area, exercise bikes, resistance based `weight trainers' (not economical to actually ship weights), basketball, darts and billiards.
Through a locked security door, we came to the control center, the lower level consisting of bays of computer equipment, sensors and detectors. Telescopes of different types, satellites, radar, power conduits...a great deal of it offline.
I expected more mechanical sounds and humming, but again, I also expected power, and gravity.
Hicks tsk'ed at the non-functional equipment. "I gotta tell ya', this ain't looking good."
Ripley sighed through her nose. "No! You think?" She climbed a ladder, entering the main control room.
We followed. A magnificent view of space. Glittering constellations, a nebula, a brilliant sun in the distance. It smelled of coffee, cigars and cleaning chemicals. Other than the light from the window, pretty dark, only a few monitors operational.
No sign of Bishop yet. I suppose being only half a torso could inconvenience anyone.
Ripley stared at a couple consoles, thumbed through a manual, squinting at the letters in the faint emergency lights, at times holding the book up to the equally faint sunlight.
She flipped switches, and a screen blazed to life. The moment she read what it said, she muttered the Lord's name in vain. "Shit."
Hicks leaned over her shoulder. "Something you'd like to share with the class?"
"Coronal mass ejection. Shorted out the entire station. We're lucky we've got air."
"So it's not the bug? You're sure?"
"Yes. It's not the bug."
"No big deal, right? We just go down to the power station and give it a hard reboot."
She leaned on the console like she could no longer stand. "It gets worse...we've just been sucked into some planet's gravitational pull."
Newt poked buttons on a nearby computer.
Ripley pulled her away. "Don't touch that. We're in enough trouble as it is."
A violent tremor rocked the entire room, mugs, manuals and loose pieces of equipment dropping off the shelves and consoles. Newt stared at her hand, like she'd caused the tremor to happen.
Hicks frowned at Ripley's computer. "I...take it that's the gravitational pull."
I stared out the window. "Where?"
"You can't see it from here. It's pulling the aft section. Back end." She flipped the power to another monitor, showing me a camera view of an immense swirling blue-pink orb, shrouded in a cluttered asteroid field.
Hicks crossed his arms. "So we go down, reset the power, fire the thrusters full blast, and get the hell out of Dodge."
Another violent earthquake-like tremor shook the station. Ripley stared at a monitor in horror, swearing again.
"What was that?"
"The thrusters. They've been damaged by the debris field." She sighed heavily. "Let's get to the power station. Newt, stay here."
"I'll stay and watch her," I suggested.
The woman only glared. "No you will not. You're coming with me."
Hicks nodded. "I agree. Not just no, hell no."
You entered the Sulaco's power station by opening a panel in the Rec Room floor. We descended into a chamber containing massive generators, marked with electrocution and radiation warning signs. Banks of consoles flashed unfriendly warning lights, computer monitors displaying errors and strings of binary code...when they weren't offline. Within huge snail-like coils on their side panels, cooling fans stood still or moved very slightly.
Despite Ripley's repeated protests, Newt followed us down there.
"Where's Bishop?" I asked. "I think he could be helpful in here."
"I know," Ripley sighed. "Unfortunately, he stopped working. I had to put him in storage."
Before making this expedition, she had read the manuals and located both security keys for the power reset. She and Hicks plugged them into the core console, turned them at the same time, and the entire ship darkened. Pieces of equipment let out mechanical moaning sounds. I thought I heard a mouse squeaking.
No power, no light, no gravity, no heat. The oxygen scrubbers went silent.
My night vision detected outlines of humans turning keys.
Clunk.
With agonizing slowness, the generators hummed back online, fans groaning to life, panel lights blinking from uncertain single dots to Christmas colors, computers emitting pleasant bleeps.
Wrenches, ratchets and a tool chest clanked down on the floor as gravity resumed. Air hissed through scrubbers, and the overhead lights switched from red to white, near blinding in their illumination.
A thundering tremor shook the craft.
Ripley rushed to the ladder. "We gotta get back to the bridge."
Hicks chortled. "Feels like I'm in the Microgravity Olympic Tryouts."
"You're going to feel dead if we can't get this thing moving!" She hurried up the rungs, but came close to flying off and hitting a bulkhead. Something had jolted the ship again.
The recorded voice of Majel Barrett informed us that debris had struck our aft section. She didn't mention anything about shields. I assume those didn't actually exist.
Ripley kept climbing. Again, she had that `I'm going to blow up your Grandmother's fidsvsardissar with explosives' look on her face.
The Sulaco rumbled. I caught Newt in my arms just as she fell from the ladder. A good thing, too, because I saw Hicks stretch out his arm and miss. Not his fault, he only had one good eye.
I noticed a whole range of emotions cross his face in the space of a second: Worriment at the sight of a child being `captured' by an alien. Relief at her being uninjured. Confusion at how...comfortable she appeared to be in my chitinous arms...And her slight smile.
Then, a look that said `Stop screwing around' as he cocked his thumb at the hatch above his head.
Ripley dashed back to the control room.
...And fell off the ladder when debris hit the Sulaco again.
Hicks rushed to her side. "Are you all right?"
"Not until we get this damn thing out of the debris field! C'mon!"
We now had a full bank of active computers, but it seemed a little too late, and it took time for Ripley to figure out the rocket controls. Without Bishop being present, she had to consult a manual for that, too.
I didn't want to distract Ripley, but, as Hicks just happened to be standing around..."So, I'm curious. How did you escape to the shuttle? It was very hazardous, and you were very injured..."
Hicks looked at me like I'd been the cause of his injuries. "I'm a Space Marine, and I didn't have you tagging along."
Ripley pushed buttons, frowning at the monitor. "How's your daughter, Ernie? Did she like the scarf?"
I choked back a sob. "She liked it too well, I'm afraid." I pointed to the ceiling. "She's up there now."
The woman backed away from the computer in horror. "On the outside of the station?"
I groaned. "No...up there. Above."
"Oh. So she's on another planet." She relaxed a fraction, returning her focus to navigating through the computer system.
I rubbed my face in frustration. "This would be so much easier if we still had a bronze age geocentric cosmology. My daughter is with the Lord in heaven now."
"I'm sorry." She didn't sound sorry.
Newt grabbed my hand, speaking in Ss'sik'chtokiwij. "It is better this way. Shauqauzjarruba would not have permitted any of us to live."
The Marine gaped at her. "Ellen, don't look now, but I think your girl needs an exorcist."
"Hicks, I don't have time for your jokes."
"No joke. Little Newt just started speaking in tongues."
Ripley only swore under her breath. "Hicks, if we survive this, I promise we'll take her to the Vatican and have her exorcised by ten priests, now will you shut up? I'm trying to keep this piece of shit from crash landing!"
"Fine, but you were right there. Don't tell me you didn't hear that."
"I...don't know what I heard, but I don't have time to think about it right now." The woman toggled menus, skipping over things like ventilation, electrical and water lines, until it displayed something called `Plasma/Laser Propulsion', glowing lozenge shaped objects connected by tubes to thrusters at various points along the Sulaco.
She highlighted the appropriate thrusters with arrow keys, pushed buttons to make associated rectangular boxes fill with orange lines. The result: As the song says, "Whole lotta shaking going on." An entire space station, vibrating like a broken washing machine, purring and growling angrily beneath my feet.
It didn't appear as if we'd made any progress. A three dimensional map on the monitor still showed the Sulaco caught in a death spiral around...Planet Gum Ball.
Ripley brought the orange lines all the way to the top of each digital box and kept clicking. "C'mon...c'mon, damn you..." More earthquake-like tremors.
All of a sudden, several of the rocket icons went dark, and it felt like Godzilla had just punched the side of the station, the seismic shift so great that we ended up picking ourselves off the floor near a bulkhead.
Hicks rubbed his injured head. "Uh...Ripley? I think you may have cranked the engines a bit too high...just a tad."
"I didn't see you try to steer this thing," Ripley growled.
"Okay, okay. Mea Culpa." The man sighed as he stared at the monitor. "Great. Got anything left to work with?"
"We'll have to get into the escape pods, and hope we're not pulled down to the surface."
"Do we know what's down there anyway?"
"I couldn't get a good reading, and it's not on any of our charts. All I know is that it's got air."
Hicks puffed out his chest, winced at the cracked ribs. "Guess we'd better get into those pods before we have to find out the hard way...Incidentally, I vote that we jettison the thing first...Just for our general peace of mind."
I shook my head. "Assuming you meant something with life support, if I couldn't fit inside your cryogenic stasis units, how am I to fit inside an escape pod?"
Ripley posed the question to Hicks with an expectant look.
The man shrugged, then winced in pain. "The pods are designed to carry personal articles in addition to live human bodies. My mom fit Miss Mittens and a huge bag of luggage into one of them. Incidentally, Miss Mittens wasn't too happy about the whole affair. Mom came back with loads of scratches, but that's besides the point. They're large, and if you still run into a (no pun intended) space issue, I'm sure a bug with your (ahem) particular skill set will have no problem making the thing more roomy."
"So...you don't think I might...possibly make use of your shuttle, being as you won't be using it?"
Hicks laughed. "There ain't no way in hell I'm letting you play with that shuttle. You'll probably kill us all."
"Why can't we take the shuttle?" Newt asked.
Hicks stooped down to look in her eyes. "Because, darling, there ain't enough air, supplies or fuel for a trip back to earth. Right now, it's only good for crash landing on that planet, or helping your alien buddy crash our pods and snack on three recently defrosted human Popsicles."
I flinched at another thundering quake. "I'll take a pod."
"Wise choice."
Newt cast me a sorrowful look, but I forced a pleasant smile. "I'm sure I'll be fine."
"What if I never see you again?"
"I don't belong with humans. I'd be safer if I went away..." I cast a meaningful glance at the two adults. "For all parties involved."
"Hear hear." Hicks didn't understand I indicated my own safety in that statement...Or did he?
Hicks didn't want to waste a good pod on me, so he steered me toward an unfavored one on the `port' side, facing Planet Gumball.
A vertical beer can shaped thing, conveniently close to the control room. Coffin-like, bland white, lined with padding and insulation, some life support equipment and ports for freezing solution.
"Is there going to be food for her on that planet?" Newt asked.
"I don't know, sugar, but that's where she's going. Earth has a thing called ICC. I'll explain it to you later."
"The Lord will provide," I said.
Hicks only snickered. "Yeah, good luck with that one, ET. Let's see what `God' thinks about you scarfing down those colonists. If you ever find an English bible on that God forsaken rock, I suggest you look up the passage about The Golden Rule."
`Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,' I thought, but kept quiet for the sake of time.
A sudden shockwave threw us all against the pod, me into the compartment, Hicks on top of me.
When I reached around to push him off, the man pushed me back. "Hey, never on a first date, okay?" He quickly jumped out.
The `capsule' contained a padded `bed frame', used to keep the `sleeper' in place, ill suited for my spiny body type. I used my acids to remove the welds, tossing the frame into the exterior chamber.
Maybe I'd done it with too much gusto, for I'd just barely stepped back inside when Hicks slapped his palm down on the door closing button.
"Wait!" I cried, but by that time the hatch had already begun its descent, the lower lid rising to meet it. Cold steam hissed around the opening.
Newt slowly waved goodbye as the door closed further.
The moment both halves locked together, boop boop went some computer terminal.
I shrieked in horrified surprise as rockets and laser jets blasted me away from the station in some random direction.
[BONUS CHAPTER: QUACEBS II, PART 1]
First time I'd ever been inside Professor Morgan's house. Painted Easter green, with (mostly) matching furniture. Very cozy living room. A fireplace, shelves crammed with all kinds of books, decorated with Navajo textiles, sand paintings, Inuit dance masks, Kachina dolls, carved wooden figures and a wooden mask from Africa, tons of framed pictures, just about every open surface cluttered with something fascinating to stare at.
She had the curtains open, to let in the light, but I knew she'd applied reflective hospital tinting to all the windows, to safeguard our alien secrets.
The older blonde woman occupied an antique armchair, locking eyes with me through hornrim spectacles. "Bri-nennop. As in plural. Specially trained eunuch psychologists that live with the family."
I glanced downwards for a brief moment. Her little tangerine vest would have exposed a lot of skin on a human, but on her, dappled squirrel gray fur just exploded out everywhere. Considering the fact she always came to my college wrapped up like it's winter, even when eighty degrees outside..."That...definitely does sound...unique."
"No, Matt. I said eunuch. They take the messy sexual apparatus out of the equation. Cloning and special chemicals. Keeps them focused and objective."
Her tangerine skirt, I noted, also exposed more of her legs than I'd seen in several semesters...okay, her calves, but still. Same dappled fur, thumbs wiggling from her bare feet...oh, and she had a tail.
I pretended I hadn't been staring. I mean, I've seen tons of Abreyas before, this was just...me being male. "Y-yes. And you think I need one of those...nennop things?"
"They're people, Matt. Not things. (Pardon me, force of habit) Abreyas. You met Quana's, remember?"
Yep, ate dinner with the dude.
My new fiancee smiled at me from the loveseat across from me, flashing her buckteeth.
Brunette, large, round ears, wiggly button nose...some people describe a woman like that as `mousy,' like it's a bad thing. I mean, below the human face, Quana's literally got fur and a tail, but...I got a thing for mice.
...This nennop thing, though..."Is this...person absolutely necessary?"
Quana's green eyes glittered through her wireframes. "Matt, you're terrible with children. If we have an egg together..."
"Correction: I'm terrible with my aunt's children."
She crossed her fuzzy arms. Totally cute in that fan collared alien tunic she wore. A little high above the knee, but decent, plus, you know, fur...and we're engaged. Her tail flicked like an irritated feline. "Matt, that's just an excuse."
"Just an excuse?" I scoffed. "Have you never watched The Omen? Problem Child?"
Quana just rolled her eyes.
"Village of the Damned?"
"Matt, there's a reason we have nennops."
I swallowed. "Fine. I...guess I should have expected things to get a little...eunuch after you said yes."
She rubbed her face in embarrassment.
"So...where is this nennop guy anyway?"
Morgan leaned forward in her chair. "You're looking at her."
"Wait, you—?"
"No, we're just roleplaying until we get you a real one. Shouldn't be too difficult, considering how you're practically a eunuch yourself..."
Okay, so you probably heard about how I got...partially transformed into an Abreya, gaining a fur coat and a tail. Recently, though...
I'll spare you the graphic details and just say that something has mutated downstairs. Grown some extra alien appendages. Do I need to paint you a picture?
So, anyway, the engagement is still on...I think. "Oh...kay? So...what are we doing, exactly?"
Morgan put one hand on her hip. "Since I don't have the luxury of spending all day with you, tell me about your week...starting with the moment she consented to...this extremely impractical proposal."
"I suck at stories."
"Matt, that doesn't matter. A nennop's job is to make you more open with your feelings, especially with...those you care about."
Quana grinned and scooted closer, eagerly awaiting my next words. "I feel like I should be getting popcorn or something."
Morgan stood up. "I just baked a batch of seasoned cockroach chips. I'll go get them."