Aliens, page 21
“Very true.”
21
Departure day was unlike any she had experienced during her military career—or even before. All her life she had worked toward a goal, had objectives along the way. It felt strange signing on for a project that had no real directive. They would be reacting to the needs of the moment.
Leticia still requested a cache of weapons to be taken on board. It was her job to anticipate the worst, even in the best of conditions. One of the items had been a Narwhal. Jacob stood by the sleek vehicle, inspecting it intently. He motioned for Leticia to come over.
“It’s not that I mind paying for it,” he said, “but what is it?”
“I couldn’t believe it when Ramón had that beast approved. It’s a Narwhal. It’s called that because it’s small, like a jet ski, but lighter, and it has a long launcher attached to the nose. Inside there’s a revolving chamber with a harpoon, a spear, grenades, and as a last resort you can blow the whole thing up to create a powerful explosion. It works best on the water, but the propulsion system can be used in short bursts for an air-to-water landing, or even to go a short distance on ground that isn’t too rough.”
“That’s brilliant,” he said, then he faced her. “How are you feeling?”
Leticia ran her hand across the amphibious craft, remembering the incident with Haas.
“If this job is as easy as the description then fine.”
“If the job isn’t, then I’m in trouble,” Jacob countered, his gaze lingering on Leticia. There was an awkward moment caught between staying professional and wanting more.
“I better get back to work,” she said. “I am on the clock.”
“Sorry, yes,” he said. “See you on board.”
In addition to the soldiers directly under her command, there were people from the fields of science and anthropology—some at the top of their fields—and their assistants. Her crew seemed to be in good spirits as they prepared for a long sleep with no threat to face once their boots hit ground again.
Nathan and Frida showed each other pictures of family, bringing them up on their watches. Desiree and Mohammed inspected the weapons waiting to be loaded with their bags and other supplies. Leticia watched them, hoping this job would be good for them financially, and present opportunities not available to them otherwise. Not everyone had a hot-shot brother with good connections.
Speaking of Ramón, he was late. She looked at her watch. A missed message said he was nearly there.
Ramón arrived at the spaceport appearing sleep deprived, with dark circles beneath his eyes. He also seemed cagey and irritable as he snapped at peripheral staff, including a few of the scientists brought along by Jacob. His grumpy demeanor had to have been tied to his wife, and Leticia wondered what was going on with them.
“Hey, Ramón. What gives?”
He dropped his duffle. “Mary Anne isn’t too pleased. She knew what she was getting into when she married me, but it’s still been a long time coming.”
“You don’t have to go.” Leticia patted her brother’s bicep. “Why are you doing this, anyway?”
He looked at her as if he wanted to spit something out.
“Because I want to go.”
That was all she was going to get out of him. Ramón was too deliberate. In the back of her mind, she wondered what or who waited on Olinka.
“Your call, bro, but please think of the twins.”
“Oh, I am.” He leaned in close to her ear. “And us, the Vasquez name.” That left her bewildered, but a shout from Desiree broke her train of thought.
“We gotta go,” Leticia said. “Get ready, and sweet dreams, hermano.”
PART 5
OLINKA
22
2201
Julia Yutani left her heart—and—scruples on Earth. Glory always required leaving something behind, she knew. Sometimes those things returned, and other times they only survived as rays of light reaching the Earth from a star long dead.
This project was her glory in the making.
Dr. Moon had perfected the bacteria, and it was time to introduce it in various scenarios. There was also promise in the engineered parasites spliced with Xenomorph DNA and the lowly pork tapeworm from Earth. Under the microscope the ugly things ate through tissue with a quiet viciousness. The hook on their tails cut with the sharpness of a razor’s edge as they burrowed into tissue. They reproduced rapidly like the Xenomorphs, were easy to transport, and could invade an entire water system.
But no parasite would be complete without a cure. Dr. Moon’s paranoia made her diligent in finding a neutralizing agent.
Julia had made this journey for another pressing reason. There had been an unexpected change in the three Xenomorph queens, and by Brenda’s exacting protocols, nothing could be left to chance. For years the incapacitated queens had lain like sleeping giants, growing to their true size and reproducing with little overt movement except to generate eggs.
With the missing lower jaw, the inner mandible hung black and heavy like the tongue escaping from a drowned corpse’s mouth. Saliva pooled directly beneath. Year after year it gathered and thickened. Ridges spiraled with bony thorns around the smaller inner mandible, the teeth lengthened across the top jaw—only by centimeters, but still a change—until they were longer than ever recorded.
Where the arms and legs had been amputated, barbs were beginning to sprout with the slowness of spring buds on a barren tree branch. Evolution. Given the environments in which they had been found, Xenomorphs were likely to experience hibernation, and Brenda postulated that their years of hibernation were a form of silent evolution. With these new, subtle changes, Brenda petitioned that they should be terminated as soon as possible.
No fucking way would Julia have any of that.
She had convinced the board to send her out to oversee the final decision. No hard feelings for the good doctor, but this was way above her pay grade.
As an unexpected bonus, the man who gave her everything and nothing at the same time would arrive on Olinka not far behind her. Ramón had promised a commitment, and with this relocation he had kept that promise. No more sneaking around or stolen moments. Now they would wake up and work side by side. Their story generated among the stars, because they were the corporate stars who would shape worlds.
Getting rid of Ross had made it all the easier. His use had run out, as did his ability to get things done the way Ramón could. Her body trembled when she thought of Ramón’s hands on her waist again, the way he whispered that he wanted to make love to her before opening his eyes. It was always the subtle moments that created craters in the heart and soul.
She had been chasing him since college and meeting him in secret during the entirety of his sham of a marriage. His desire for a family was perfect as a Hallmark movie—something he couldn’t let go of because of those old abandonment wounds. Part of her hated herself for always holding space for him. Year after year, her resolve had eroded away, knowing he was playing happy family with a woman who wasn’t his true match, or the one he loved. Mary Anne had to know he wasn’t faithful. Something in her roving eyes, when she accompanied him to corporate events, betrayed this truth.
“Who is it?” they said. “Which one of these women am I sharing my husband with?”
Julia did her best to give her a pleasant smile. Mary Anne ignored her as she clung to the crook of his arm with that pretty face, minimal makeup, modest dress, and kitten heels. The princess-cut diamond ring on her left hand blinding as it reflected the light in any room. And it was always, “the twins this” and “the twins that”… It was as if they married each other for nothing more than a photo opportunity.
Eventually his children would join them here. She didn’t mind, because that was what staff was for, and there was something to be said about birthing your heirs as opposed to appointing them. Julia was an heir.
Ramón had been given an ultimatum, to confront what would he do, knowing he could lose her—or more importantly, lose a lifetime of wealth. Finally, he had come around and decided to leave his wife, under the convenient guise of work and an empty promise of sending for her once settled. His children would be placed in the best boarding school in the country, and he justified leaving them because in the end they would have it all. They would see it as training to be proper heirs.
It had happened to Julia.
When she had first relaxed into cryo for the journey, she smiled knowing that in five short years they would have their own empire. An instant, really, when spent in deep freeze. It would be easy to push out Jacob, who was unfit for his position.
Julia loathed Jacob and that the board had chosen a British-born Vickers to take the top spot. Weyland-Yutani had a long way to go before they could clean up their image. He was nothing like his great-grandmother, Meredith. His office was filled with photos of his trips with humanitarian projects, with students achieving high honors, and accolades from non-profits for his continued support to charities in the places with the most need.
God knew why he really took the position. She would have held more respect for him if he was hiding a secret agenda, and ended up poisoning the entire board who had voted him in. Altruism in its purest form only got you killed, or dying broke. Out here he would be isolated, though, chasing an illusion that was rays of light from a dead star. A half smile spread across her face.
Accidents happen all the time.
She stepped through the doorway of Brenda’s office for the formal review.
“Julia, it’s wonderful to finally meet you,” Brenda said. “I know how busy you are, so I have everything already set up. Whatever we decide to do, it should be swift.”
Leaning in closer to the screen on Brenda’s wall, Julia played her fingertips across the screen and brought the image into closer focus. A queen Xenomorph sat upright with the stiffness of a sphynx. No riddle here.
“What’s the problem?” she said brusquely. “You have her under control. You’ve managed to do what we need, tamed the bitch.”
Brenda looked startled and pursed her lips. She pulled up another image.
“Look here and here.” She pointed. “There is growth. It’s as if they have matured into full-grown Xenomorphs while evolving or adapting to the… changes. The inner mandible is thicker. It doesn’t move much, but it is changing. Here. Where we inserted our little bullets of insurance, they have grown out into sharp horns. Ironically it looks like a crown on their large hoods—and look at the tail and hands. See those barbs?”
Julia swung her head from one image to the other. “But has she moved an inch? Have any of them? All that matters is they continue to create more eggs for our research, and for the end results we need.”
Brenda remained silent for a beat. “No. However, I still think we should terminate all the queens now. No waiting to see what happens next.”
“You will do no such thing.” Julia snapped her head away from the screen. “All the other Xenomorphs will be allowed to grow, as well. No more euthanizing them—any of them—while they’re still small. What’s the status of the eggs you’re freezing? Have you figured out the optimal temperature for keeping them on ice, so they can be used as biological grenades?”
Brenda’s mouth hung open as she struggled to regain her composure.
“We don’t know enough about fully grown Xenomorphs,” she said finally. “I don’t trust this many queens changing in ways we can’t predict and keeping full-grown Xenomorphs all in the same facility. What if they can communicate? What if these queens—”
“With all due respect,” Julia said, “and I do respect everything you have done in your career, the sacrifices you have made; however, this is not up to you. You want to destroy something huge based only on a scientific hunch… or rather, on your own fear.”
“Yes!” Brenda snapped. “You should fear these things, and respect them. They are hideous. She is a monstrosity.” Brenda gestured toward the screen. “And another thing—we don’t have a proper security team, or much of anything to defend ourselves in the event of an emergency.”
“Is she hideous because of her latent power? Because you are afraid of how much we don’t know about her yet, if we allow it to bloom?” Julia countered. “There could be so much more. You don’t fear the bacteria or parasites you created. Those will be used in warfare, and against other humans. Where is your fear for those?”
Brenda stared, unable to answer. Julia could tell she had crushed the woman and her irrational arguments.
“As far as security is concerned,” she continued, “that’s being taken care of. The bacteria is all that should concern you. You’ve prepared safeguards, and the dosages have been calibrated. They’re ready to go, should we need to wipe them all out.
“But it should not come to that,” she said, making certain the scientist understood the implications. “If that happened, we start back at square one. Continue your work, or send me a letter of resignation. If you choose that route, however, you will forfeit the generous bonus you were given—or has that already been spent? Your sister is out on one of the colonies, isn’t she, with her own business? It would be a shame for her to have to give it all back.”
Brenda straightened her back.
“You’re the boss, Ms. Yutani,” she said. “But no matter what you decide, she is hideous.” She looked at the abomination on the screen. “I know much of what they are capable of, and I fear everything we don’t know they are capable of accomplishing—like these changes.”
“Acknowledged,” Julia said. “I’ll expect a report about the frozen eggs, by the end of the day.”
With that Julia walked out of the office, holding in the elation she felt. Spontaneous evolution. The queen would indeed be terminated, and then picked apart to find whatever was causing it. Imagine harnessing the power of evolution.
Her watch beeped. She had to move quickly for her next appointment, deeper in the facility.
* * *
The elevator doors opened to a wide research room from which all projects were monitored.
“Are we ready for the specimen?” Julia demanded as she stepped in front of a large screen showing a live feed.
“It’s not fully grown, and should prove to be easy.”
Human trials were always bogged down with red tape, money, and a little thing called ethics. Peter Weyland had changed the world and done what people labeled “good,” but the path to it hadn’t been paved with cobbles of altruism. Every human possessed an ego.
This round of trials would begin before any approval had been granted. The lab was far from anything or anyone who could get in the way. The participants had been recruited from floundering colonies, or people stranded in space who had been brought here with the promise of work, a fresh start.
The poor guy, Dylan, didn’t even know he was part of an experiment, but this was how it had to be. There had to be that element of surprise. In times of war the chain of events couldn’t be anticipated. If they were lucky, this thing would never have to be used—the threat of it might be enough. There also might be applications that hadn’t yet appeared.
Xenomorphs proved that humans were not alone.
“Dylan, I’m Dr. Yutani.” Julia maintained her cool, even tone as she gave the young man a reassuring smile. He still appeared to be filled with dread. “It’s time for you to take the samples.”
“Is it safe?” he said over the intercom, his eyes wide. “I mean, what is the stuff. Th-this isn’t what I was expecting. Could you use an android, instead?”
He had no clue.
“You signed up for this,” she said, “and we can’t rely on androids for everything. As humans, that would make us obsolete. Do you want to be made obsolete?” Without giving him a chance to answer, she continued. “You’re being paid well, and a lot of people wanted this opportunity, so you should be grateful.” Her smile remained, but her eyes were a squeeze to his balls.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Yutani,” he said. “I… I’ll do it. I trust you.” With that, he picked a vial off of the table in front of him and swallowed the contents.
“Good,” Julia said, trying to sound reassuring. “That will offer you the protection you need as you collect the samples.” It was a lie, of course, but the young man seemed to take it at face value and calm down a bit. He dressed hastily in a hazmat suit. An assistant behind him secured the back of the suit and latched the helmet.
“All set.”
Dylan approached the airlock carrying a tray holding the instruments he had been given, ostensibly to slice off pieces of the pulsating egg. When the door opened, they could see black weeping streaks shooting from the base to the top. Flakes of dead flesh lay on the floor. He glanced back at the camera where he knew Julia and the others would be watching.
Stretching out a shaky hand, he gathered pieces of curled dead flesh on the ground and placed them in a plastic vacuum bag. The egg continued to pulse, causing Julia’s own heart rate to increase in pulsating beats. Her eyes widened. If only Ramón could be standing next to her for this. Afterward they could celebrate with champagne and sex.
As he hovered over the egg and reached out with the scalpel, the spider-like face-hugger came shooting out of the top, shattering the mask. In an instant Dylan lay on the ground mottled with black blooms spreading across his face. If all went as planned, the dosage would be just enough to transmit the bacteria. The assistant entered the room, lifting off Dylan’s helmet.
“Looks good,” he said. “Both the host and the Manumala noxhydria are still alive. Transmission appears to have been successful.”
“Great,” Julia replied. “We need to let the bacterium continue to do its work before the face-hugger falls off. Get him out of there.”
Dylan was the last of five infected hosts. All of them would be kept in secure hatching rooms. Dr. Moon should have been there, watching with the same intensity she reserved for her objections. But she had made some bullshit excuse, and Julia would not forget.
