Microsoft Word - THE COMPLETE ALIEN OMNIBUS, page 59
to Motinea. She’s been in the program for months. This is
an emergency. There are rules even the Company has to
comply with. I’m sure they’ll contact her, kick at least a pilot out
of deep sleep, and divert her our way to make the pickup. And
that will put an end to that.’
He knew no such thing, of course, but it was the logical
course of action for the Company to take and he felt a certain
confidence in presupposing. If the ship bound for Motinea
didn’t divert, then he’d deal with the situation as required. One
potential crisis at a time.
He glanced up at Clemens. ‘Have you had enough time to
make an evaluation?’
The tech crossed his arms diffidently across his chest. ‘Sort
of. Best I can manage, with what we have here.’
‘Never mind the complaints. What’s her medical status?’
Clemens was well aware that every eye in the room was
suddenly focused on him, but he didn’t acknowledge them,
keeping his attention on the superintendent. ‘She doesn’t seem
too badly damaged. Mostly just bruised and banged up. One of
her ribs may be broken. If so it’s only a stress fracture. What is
potentially more dangerous is that she came out of deep sleep
too abruptly.’ He paused to collect his thoughts.
‘Look, I’m just a general tech and even I can see that she’s
going to need specialist attention. Somebody gets whacked out
of deep sleep early, without the appropriate biophysical prep,
and there can be all kinds of problems. Unpredictable side
effects,
latent
respiratory
and
circulatory
complications,
cellular disruptions that sometimes don’t manifest themselves
for days or weeks - stuff I wouldn’t begin to know how to
diagnose, much less properly treat. For her sake I hope that
rescue ship carries full medical facilities.’
‘Will she live?’ Andrews asked him.
The tech shook his head in quiet wonder. The superin-
tendent was good at hearing only what he wanted to hear.
‘Assuming nothing shows up later, I think she’ll be fine. But
don’t quote me on that. Especially to a registered physician.’
‘What’re you afraid of?’ Someone sniggered behind him.
‘Bein’ accused of malpractice?’Inclement laughter rose from
some in the group.
Andrews stepped on it quickly, before Clemens or anyone
else could reply. ‘Look, none of us here is naive. It’s in
everybody’s best interests if the woman doesn’t come out of the
infirmary until the rescue team arrives. And certainly not
without an escort. Out of sight, out of mind, right?’ No one
chose to comment one way or the other. ‘So we should all stick
to our set routines and not get unduly agitated. Correct? All
right.’ He rose. ‘Thank you, gentlemen.’
No one moved. Dillon turned and spoke softly. ‘Okay.’
The assemblage began to break up, the men to return to
their daily tasks. Andrews was not miffed by the slight. It was a
small gesture by the prisoners, and he was willing to allow small
gestures. It let some of the pressure off, mitigated their need to
attempt big ones.
The meeting had gone as well as could have been expected.
He felt he’d dealt with the situation properly, putting a stop to
rumour and speculation before it could get out of hand. Aaron
at his side, he headed back to his office.
A more informative response from the Company would
have been helpful, however.
Clemens found his exit blocked by Dillon. ‘Something on
your mind?’
The big man looked concerned. ‘Pill pusher. You should be
careful of this woman.’
Clemens smiled. ‘She’s not in any condition to cause much
trouble. Don’t we owe all God’s children a fighting chance?’
‘We don’t know whose child she is.’ The two men stared at
each other a moment longer. Then Dillon moved aside to let
the tech pass. His gaze followed Clemens until he stepped
through the portal leading to tunnel D.
The woman lay motionless on the bed, for a change not
moaning, not dreaming. Clemens checked the IV pack taped
to her arm. Without knowing the specifics of her condition
he’d been forced to treat her for general debilitation. In
addition to glucose and sucrose the pack contained a broad
range of tolerant antibiotics in solution, REM-sleep modifiers,
and painkillers. The tough ID tag she’d been wearing had been
damaged in the crash, so he’d been forced to treat her without
the crucial information it contained. He’d monitored her
carefully for any signs of rejection and was relieved when none
manifested themselves. At least she wasn’t allergic to anything
he’d pumped into her system so far.
He was gratified to see that the armpack was nearly empty.
That meant her body was making good use of the rehab
solution. The readouts on the VS checker as he passed it over
her chest and skull stayed green. Thus encouraged, he slipped
a capsule into the injector and turned her arm slightly to
expose more of the tricep.
Her eyes snapped open as if she’d only been faking sleep.
Startled by the speed of her reaction, he hesitated. She
indicated the device in his hand.
‘What’s that?’
‘General site injector.’
‘I can see that. You know what I mean.’
He smiled slightly. ‘A light cocktail of my own devising. Sort
of
an
eye-opener.
Adrenaline,
some
selected
designer
endorphins, a couple of mystery proteins. For flavour. I think
your body’s recovered sufficiently to metabolize them. Five
minutes after they’ve dispersed through your system you’ll feel
a lot better than you do now.?
She continued to eye him warily. ‘Are you a doctor?’
He shrugged and looked away momentarily, as if the
question made him uncomfortable. ‘General med tech. I’ve
only got a 3-C rating. But I’m the best you’re going to find
around here.’ He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he
inspected her hair appraisingly. ‘I really ought to shave your
head. Should’ve done it right away but I was busy with more
important things.’
This admission caused Ripley to sit bolt upright in the bed,
clutching the sheet protectively to her neck.
‘Take it easy. I’m no murderer. Though you’ll find them
here.?
‘Why do you have to shave my head?’
‘Microscopic parasites. Carnivorous arthropods. They’re
endemic to Fiorina. Fortunately they don’t find humans
particularly tasty . . . except for the keratin in our hair. For
some reason they don’t have the same appetite for fingernails.
Wrong consistency, maybe. We just call ‘em lice, and to hell
with scientific nomenclature.?
‘Can’t you use some kind of spray, or prophylactic shampoo,
something?’ Her eyes remained fixed on the razor.
‘Oh, the Company tried that when they were starting up the
mine, but these little suckers are tough. Anything’d have to be
to make a success of it on this world. Turned out that anything
strong enough to dent the parasites raised blisters on the skin.
Bad enough on the scalp. Damn sight worse lower down.
Shaving turned out to be a simpler, cheaper, and more
effective solution. Some of the guys hang on to a little hair out
of spite and fight the bugs as best they can. Eyebrows, for
example. You wouldn’t think anybody would give a damn
about something as ephemeral as eyebrows. But dense hair,
that’s out of the question. Try to live with the lice and they’ll
drive you crazy, crawling around, eating, itching—’
‘All right, all right,’ Ripley replied quickly. ‘I get the picture.’
‘I’ll give you an electric razor for downstairs. When you’re
feeling better you can attend to that. The infirmary’s about the
most sterile room in the installation, so you should be okay for
a while, but the little buggers’ll find you eventually. They’re too
small to screen out. Just shave and they won’t bother you.’ She
hesitated, thoughtful, then nodded understandingly.
‘My name is Clemens. I’m the chief medical officer here at
Fury 361.’
Her brows knitted. ‘That doesn’t sound like a mine
designation.’
‘Mine’s what it used to be. Last of the worthwhile ore was dug
out, refined, and shipped offworld some time ago. Weyland-
Yutani had this huge facility cost that forced them to abandon,
so to recoup a few credits they lease the operative part of it for
a maximum-security prison. Everybody benefits. Society is
separated from its most undesirable undesirables and the
Company gets free caretakers. Everybody benefits, except
those of us who are sent here.’ He gestured with the injector.
‘Do you mind? This is just sort of a stabilizer.’
She was feeling safe enough now to let him approach as she
turned her attention to examining her surroundings. ‘How did
I get here?’
‘You crash-landed in an EEV. Nobody knows what
happened to your mothership or what caused you to be
ejected. If Harry Andrews - he’s the superintendent here -
knows, he isn’t saying.
‘Whatever catastrophe caused you to be ejected also must
have damaged the landing controls on the EEV because you
smacked into the bay pretty hard. We hauled it back here. I
haven’t been inside myself, but if the exterior’s any indication
of the kind of internal damage she suffered, you’re damn lucky
to be alive, much less more or less in one piece.’
She swallowed. ‘What about the others?’
‘Yeah, I was kind of wondering about that myself. Where’s
the rest of the crew? did they get off on other EEV’s?’
‘There is no “rest of the crew,” ’ she informed him tersely.
‘It’s a long story, one I don’t feel much like telling right now. I
mean what about those who were in the EEV with me? How
many were there?’
‘Two. Three if you count the android.’ He paused. ‘I’m
afraid they didn’t make it.’
‘What?’ It wasn’t sinking in.
‘They didn’t survive.’
She considered for a long moment, then shook her head
brusquely. ‘I want to go to the ship. I have to see for myself.’
She started to sit up and he put a restraining hand on her
shoulder.
‘Hey, hang on. As your doctor, I have to tell you that you’re
in no condition for that.’
‘You’re not a doctor, remember?’ She slipped out of the
other side of the bed and stood waiting expectantly, quite
naked. ‘You want to get me some clothes, or should I go like
this?
Clemens took his time deciding, not entirely displeased by
the opportunity to view her vertically. ‘Given the nature of our
indigenous population, I would strongly suggest clothes.’
Rising, he opened a locker on the far side of the infirmary and
began sorting through the contents.
‘Keep in mind as you gambol through our little wonderland
that the prison population here is strictly male and none of
them have seen a woman in years. Neither have I, for that
matter.’
She waited, hand on hip, giving him the calculating eye.
‘Yeah, but I don’t have to worry about you, because you’re a
not-doctor, remember?’
He grinned in spite of himself.
III
Clemens noted how her eyes darted to and fro as he led her
through the corridors and along the walkways. Like those of a
nervous child . . . or sophisticated predator. She missed
nothing. The slightest sound drew her instant attention. Their
feet made little noise on the worn metal. The garb he’d
scavenged for her was a little small, but she didn’t seem to
mind.
‘I’ve no idea how long you were in deep sleep, but coming
out of it the way you did can be a helluva jolt to the system. Just
so you don’t panic if I look at you crossways, you should know
that I’m still monitoring you for possible delayed side effects.
So let’s steady on as we go, Ripley.’
She looked at him sharply. ‘How do you know my name?’
‘It’s stenciled on the back of your shorts.’ He smiled
apologetically. ‘We also found your ID tag. It was so mangled
the computer could hardly read it, but we got that much off it.
Unfortunately, most of your personal medical info was
scrambled. I had to guess a lot.’
Ripley rolled her shoulders forward experimentally, let her
head roll from side to side. ‘Feels like you did a pretty good job.
Thanks.’
To his immense surprise he found that he was slightly
embarrassed. ‘Hey, any jerk can slap on an armpack.’
She grinned. ‘I don’t think so. It takes a specially qualified
jerk.’
The work crew was being as careful as possible with the hulk
of the EEV as they eased it onto hastily raised blocks. The old
crane groaned with the effort. There hadn’t been much call for
its use since the mine had been shut down, and temporary
reactivation for the purpose of manipulating the emergency
vehicle had been a touchy process. But the machinery was
responding adequately. Cables sang as the craft was gently
lowered.
It had attracted its share of stares when it had first been
hauled inside the complex. Ripley drew rather more as she and
Clemens approached. She did a much better job of pretending
not to notice than the prisoners did of trying not to look.
‘Just what kind of place is this work prison?’ she asked her
guide as they started up a ramp toward the battered lifeship.
Clemens stayed close. ‘Used to be a mine cum refinery.
Mostly platinum-group minerals. Naturally the raw ore was
refined on the spot. Much cheaper than shipping it offworld
for processing elsewhere. I understand there was a considera-
ble rise in the price of platinum about the time the ore body
here was located. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been worth the
Company’s while to go to the expense of setting up a facility
this size this far from any point of consumption. It was a rich
lode, highly concentrated.’
‘And now?’ She had stopped outside the EEV and was
inspecting the damaged hull.
‘Weyland-Yutani’s got it on hold. Interstellar commodities
trading isn’t exactly my specialty and I don’t know that
anybody here gets their jollies from following the relevant rises
and falls in raw materials prices. I think I heard that a drop in
the price of the refined metal was accompanied by less need for
the stuff.
‘So most of the equipment here’s been mothballed. Not
worth the expense of moving it, not worth enough as salvage.
There’s still ore in the ground and if the price goes up I’m sure
the Company would reopen. That means we’d probably get
moved. Wouldn’t do to have felons associating with nice, moral
miners. Not that anybody would mind being shifted off this
rock. The change would be sweet and it’s pretty hard to
conceive of anyplace else being worse.
‘So we’re just caretakers, just a custodial staff. Keeps things
from freezing up in case the price of the ore or the need for it
goes back up. Works out well for the government and the
Company.’
‘I’d think you’d go crazy after a year or so in a place like this.’
Clemens had to laugh. ‘That’s what they said some of us were
before we were sent here. But I don’t think we are, at least not
the majority of us. The isolation isn’t nearly so trying if you
can learn to think of yourself as a contemplative penitent
instead of an incarcerated felon.’
‘Any women ever been here?’
‘Sorry, Lieutenant Ripley. This is a double Y chromosome
facility. Strictly male.’
She nodded, then turned and bent to crawl through what
remained of the battered air lock. Clemens let her forge a path,
then followed.
The battered exterior of the craft was pristine compared to
what she encountered inside. Walls were crumpled and bent,
readouts and consoles smashed, equipment strewn haphaz-
ardly across the deck. The thick smell of salt water permeated
everything. She paused, astonished that anything or anyone
