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Page 14


  “Ripley, Taylor is hurt.”

  That brought Amanda up short. “What?”

  “She was injured by debris during the crossing.”

  Amanda winced. “How bad?”

  “I can’t move her,” he said. “I need medical supplies. We need to treat and pack the injury.”

  She remembered that Samuels had the radio booster. “Can’t you contact the Torrens?”

  Samuels shook his head. “I’m afraid the radio was also damaged.”

  “So was the ship.” She filled Samuels in on what she’d heard of Verlaine’s attempt to reach Sevastopol, before APOLLO cut her off.

  “I’ve been unable to contact anyone but you with Sevastopol’s equipment,” Samuels said. “We’re on our own.”

  “I guess you haven’t come across any locals?”

  “Not as yet, no.”

  “Count your blessings. They’re in survival-at-all-costs mode, and it’s everyone for themselves.” His location came up. “I’ll try to get down to you as soon as I can. Keep your eyes open.”

  “Of course. I’ll—”

  The communication cut off.

  The computer voice came back on.

  “Unauthorized communication. Please wait to be attended by a member of Seegson personnel. We will be with you shortly.”

  “Shit,” Amanda muttered. She had a sinking feeling that the Seegson personnel they were going to send would be more Joes. Getting down to Samuels and Taylor was a priority anyhow, but she needed to do it fast before more of these murderous androids showed up. The next one might still be in one piece.

  Luckily, not only had she been able to trace Samuels’s call before APOLLO cut it off, she had also called up a map to show her how to get there. They were at a transit station right near an airlock—probably the airlock they came through. If Taylor was hurt, Samuels probably didn’t get very far.

  Moving quickly through the darkened corridors, and hoping that she wouldn’t come across the legs of that Joe whose head she’d smashed, she worked her way to the reception area, which included a transit stop.

  A Joe was sitting at the desk, blithely operating a computer terminal as if nothing was wrong. At her approach, it looked up at her with its dead electronic eyes.

  “Please take a seat. I’m sure someone will be with you shortly.”

  “I’m not sure of that at all,” Amanda said, putting her hand in the pocket with the smoke bomb. “No wonder Seegson’s losing the tech race.” She started to walk past the desk, but as she did so, the Joe spoke again.

  “This is a restricted area. You may not pass. Please take a seat and someone will be with you shortly.”

  “Sorry, can’t do that.” She tightened her grip on the smoke bomb.

  “Registration complete,” the android said. “Ripley, Amanda. Consultant, Weyland-Yutani. Clearance: green. Welcome to Sevastopol, Ms. Ripley. Please take a seat and someone will be with you shortly.”

  Amanda had no idea what having green clearance actually got her. Nor did she much care. She continued past the desk, pulling her hand out of her pocket. This time, when the Joe reached for her, she managed to dodge out of the way and started running.

  “Stop!” the Joe said, starting to rise. “That is a restricted area!”

  It was a public transit stop, so the notion that it was restricted was bullshit. Not that the Joes were in any way constrained by reality at this point. There were no transit cars at the station, so she slammed her hand down on the call button.

  The Joe came toward her, moving awkwardly. Looking down, she saw that its right leg had taken on damage. Grateful for small favors, she moved further down the station.

  Then two more Joes appeared—she didn’t see where they had come from—and began lumbering toward her, moving more nimbly and approaching side by side. When they spoke, it was in perfect unison.

  “This is a restricted area.” The sound sent a shiver down her spine. “Please return to the reception desk and someone will be with you shortly.”

  A display showed that a transit car would be there in two minutes. That wouldn’t be quickly enough—the two Joes were getting closer. At first, her hand went to the pocket where she kept the Jacobs, but then she recalled how ineffective bullets had been against the Joe that killed poor Hughes.

  So instead she pulled out the smoke bomb, hoping it would at least slow them down. Flicking the switch, she tossed it at the floor in front of the Joes. Seconds later, the area was filled with smoke.

  “Optical sensors impaired,” they said. “Switch to infrared.”

  Then one of them said, “Infrared sensors nonfunctional.”

  Well, at least one of them’s blind.

  The other Joe kept moving at full speed. Ahead of it she kept moving in a zigzag pattern around the transit station, gripping the K92 firmly in her right hand. She kept strict track of where she was in relation to the elevator, and just needed to stay ahead of her pursuer for another minute or so.

  “I can’t help you if I can’t find you,” the stopped Joe said.

  “You must come with me,” the other one added as it barreled toward her. She managed to dodge it, counting on her memory to stop her crashing into anything.

  Then, with thirty seconds left before the transit car arrived, cold plastic hands wrapped around her throat. She stumbled backward, hoping to loosen the android’s grip, but it just moved with her until they were up against a wall. Spots danced before her eyes as the Joe’s grip tightened.

  Lifting the K92, she smacked her assailant on the head. Unfortunately, the Joe was too close this time—she didn’t have the leverage to do any damage. With no other option, however, she just kept striking it, hoping the repetition might have some effect.

  More spots popped in front of her eyes, and still she swung the K92. Her vision started to blur, and still she swung the K92.

  She made a strangled noise as she tried and failed to breathe normally, and still she swung the K92.

  Just as she was about to pass out, she took a deep gulp of smoky air and her vision started to clear—as did the smoke. The grip was released and she staggered back, looking down. The Joe lay at her feet, a giant hole in its head.

  Putting a hand to her throat, she took several deep breaths, and coughed several times. Not far away, the other Joe registered that its partner had failed, and began to move toward her.

  The transit car pulled in and the doors opened. She ran for it. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she slammed her hand on the close door button. Unfortunately, the second Joe was too fast, and got its arm through before the door could complete its slide shut. Sensing the obstruction, the door slid back open.

  This time, though, she had positioning on her side. Pulling back as far as she could, she swung the K92 like a baseball bat, crying out as she slammed it into the side of the Joe’s head.

  It crumpled to the floor, sparks flying.

  The doors shut completely.

  Gotta keep moving, can’t let the adrenaline crash. For several seconds, Amanda just stood, trying to get her breathing under control. Samuels and Taylor are counting on me. And I still have to beat the shit out of whoever brought back a blank flight recorder.

  She straightened, pulled out one of the water bottles, and drank about half of it. Besides getting the taste of smoke out of her mouth, and lubricating her recently injured throat, being hydrated made it possible to ignore the fatigue that was making her limbs feel as if they weighed a thousand pounds each.

  She tapped the button that would take her to the same level as Medical. Moments later the doors opened, and she ran out into the corridor toward the airlock.

  * * *

  Taylor lay against a bulkhead, a blood-soaked cloth on her abdomen serving as a bandage. Both the EVA suits were crumpled behind them. Samuels was kneeling beside her, but rose to his feet as Amanda approached.

  “Ripley,” Samuels said.

  “Ripley?” Taylor croaked weakly. “Is that Ripley?” Samuels knel
t back down, and Amanda joined him.

  “I’m right here, Taylor.”

  Taylor stared at her. “You don’t look so well, Ripley.”

  “Look who’s talking.” She smiled. “Rest, we’ll take care of you.” She and Samuels both stood back up.

  “She needs treatment,” Samuels said, “but I don’t have the equipment to help her. Medical’s nearby but I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

  “Smart move,” Amanda said. “This place is a nightmare.”

  Samuels walked over to the EVA suits. “I’ve been attempting to repair the radio booster. I’ll continue those efforts while you forage for medical supplies.”

  “Good plan.” Amanda nodded. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.” She turned to move toward Medical, then Samuels called out to her.

  “Ripley?”

  Stopping and turning, she prompted, “Yeah?”

  “What if this—this ‘creature’ you speak of shows up?”

  “Hide.”

  Samuels just stared at her for a second. Most likely he had expected more than that, she thought.

  “Very well. Good luck.”

  “You too.”

  She headed down the corridor, gulping down the rest of the water bottle and tossing it aside. Soon, she spotted a doorway with a welcome sign over it.

  SAN CRISTOBAL

  MEDICAL FACILITY

  Like everything else on Sevastopol, it was dark and empty.

  No, not completely empty. Once through the entrance, she found dead bodies lining the corridors. Aided by the dim lighting, she tried not to look too closely at them and pushed through, looking for some sign of life. Finally, she found it—or, more accurately, it found her.

  “You! Hey, you! You need help?”

  “Who is that?” Amanda asked, firmly gripping the K92. She didn’t see anyone. “I need a doctor. Hello?”

  “I can’t hear you, hang on.” Amanda then heard some squealing noises, then, “Okay, say something?”

  “My name’s Ripley.”

  “I can hear you now! Great! I’m Kuhlman. I’m a doctor.”

  “Good. I’ve got a friend who’s badly hurt, and we need an aid kit.”

  “Come around the next bend, you’ll see me there.”

  Amanda did as asked, and found herself staring at a large picture window that looked onto a medical bay. At least, it had been a medical bay. There were exam beds, and shelves that had empty boxes and broken bottles all over them, and a bunch of diagnostic displays that were flickering or cracked. Sitting at a desk was a man wearing a white lab coat with a name stenciled over the heart.

  KUHLMAN

  His left leg was completely straight, with two planks keeping it that way, and a bandage around his knee and shin. He had a monitor that showed him the video feed from cameras situated around the facility.

  “There you are,” Kuhlman said. “Good to see you. You said you need an aid kit?”

  Nodding, Amanda replied, “I’ve got someone with a belly wound. She needs help.”

  “I’d love to give it. There’s only two problems.” He held up one finger. “Problem number one is that I’m kinda stuck in this room. Security locked everything down, and I don’t have the code key.”

  “I can help with that.” She pulled the Halfin out of her pocket.

  “Jolly good. Unfortunately, that leads us very nicely to problem number two, which is that I’ve been stripped bare.” He used his hand to indicate the room. “As you can see, I have no supplies left. Plus—” He pointed at his bandaged leg. “—I’m not particularly mobile right now.” He grinned. “I’m afraid you’re not seeing us at our best.”

  “No kidding,” Amanda muttered. “Where can I find supplies?”

  “Well, my best guess, based on information that’s several hours old, is the dispensary. That lift over there will take us.” He indicated a door at the very rear of the medical bay. “How-some-ever, it requires use of a keycard and a code. I’m afraid your little toy will only help with the latter.”

  Amanda used the Halfin to at least get the medical bay door open so she could talk to Kuhlman in person, rather than through a window. She stepped quickly inside, and once she did so, she regretted it instantly. The place smelled awful. She wondered what had been in those broken bottles, and it seemed as if security had shut down the plumbing, as well.

  Grabbing something off the desk, Kuhlman didn’t get up. He reached out to Amanda, holding up a device.

  “Here, take this. It’s a motion detector. It’ll let you know if anyone’s coming. I’ve already had one person try to kill me—that’s how this happened.” He pointed to his busted leg. “But if you use this, you can be ready for any random strangers who might want to—”

  “Shoot me in the head? Yeah.” Amanda took the motion detector, shoving it in the one empty pocket she had left. Then she activated the Halfin and used it on the elevator door. While it wouldn’t accept the code without the card, the AW15 could still obtain it. “The code is 1702.”

  Blinking, Kuhlman said, “Impressive.”

  “Where do I get a keycard?”

  Kuhlman rubbed his chin. “I think Morley should have one. I can direct you to his office.”

  “Good. Sit tight.”

  “That supposed to be funny?”

  Amanda glared at him. “Nothing on this fucking station is funny.”

  “Excellent point. Head back out the way you came. I’ll let you know where to go.” With a curt nod, Amanda left, pulling the motion detector back out so she could check it.

  “All right,” Kuhlman said over the PA, “turn left, and then keep moving quickly.”

  The corridor was filled with half-open doors, overturned beds, and strewn-about sheets. No bodies, though, which came as a huge relief.

  “I know it’s awful,” Dr. Kuhlman continued, “but that was where we kept our more unstable patients—the ones who had trouble adapting to deep space. It’s not for everyone, you know. Tragic cases, these. Don’t worry, though, they’re all long gone.”

  “Just tell me where to go next, Kuhlman.” Amanda reached the end of that section, and there was a fork in the road.

  “Go left, and Morley’s office is the fifth on the right.”

  There were no doors on the left, but the other four doors on the right were all closed and locked, with signs giving the names of the staff members who occupied the offices. Soohoo, Kuhlman, Haimovitch, Lingard…

  morley

  Using the Halfin, she broke into Morley’s office. It was even worse there, as the stench of blood and gore assaulted Amanda’s nose. Morley was in his office—or, rather, what was left of him was. His body had been ripped to pieces, strewn about the floor of the office, which was awash in blood, body parts, and sliced-apart organs.

  Amanda wasn’t sure what disgusted her more, the sight of another mutilated body, or the fact that she was getting used to seeing mangled corpses. Trying not to think about it too much, she turned her attention to the task at hand. Having already been through and torn Morley to bits, the monster was unlikely to return.

  At least, she hoped that was the logic. It was an alien, who knew how it thought? But she tried to take comfort in the notion that the creature probably wouldn’t double back.

  The keycard was on Morley’s desk, on the other side of the room. That meant passing by the pieces of Morley’s body.

  Suddenly, the dim lights turned red and a voice blared over the PA. It wasn’t Kuhlman.

  “Warning! Medical facility quarantine breach!”

  “Fuck!”

  Kuhlman’s voice blocked out the computer’s. “It’s all right, Ripley, there’s no breach. Just another bloody glitch. I’ll chase it down, you just find that keycard and get back here.”

  Snatching the card off the desk and pocketing it, Amanda then checked the motion detector—

  —which picked up movement just down the corridor.

  Fortunately, its location allowed her a clear way back to the med
ical bay. With luck, she could get away before whatever it was found her. She sprinted back past the other offices, while behind her she heard familiar noises.

  First a vent cover falling to the deck.

  Then the slithering of the creature.

  Refusing to turn back to look, she just ran faster, hoping she’d get to Kuhlman before it noticed her. As soon as reached the medical bay, she saw Kuhlman standing at the elevator, inserting a keycard.

  “What the fuck, Kuhlman?”

  The doctor turned around awkwardly on his bad leg.

  “Ah. You’re back, Ripley. Well, this is awkward.”

  “You had a fucking keycard all along?”

  “But not the code, you see, so thank you for that. I must confess to not expecting you to return so quickly—or at all, as I assumed that awful creature would be lured by the quarantine alarm.”

  “It was,” Amanda said. “I got away.”

  “Well done, you. How-some-ever, I’m not particularly eager for company, so ta for now.” The light over the elevator turned from red to green and the door slid open behind him.

  She gaped, and tried to speak. He cut her off.

  “Good luck with whatever it is you need to—”

  The monster inside the elevator grabbed the wounded doctor. It happened so fast, Amanda could barely believe it, but somehow the monster had gotten inside the elevator and snatched Kuhlman from behind.

  He let out a very high-pitched scream.

  The doctor was still screaming as she turned and ran away, not wanting to hear any more, not wanting to watch what the alien did to him. Whatever happened to him, she told herself, he deserved it after leaving her to die like that.

  She ran back to the offices.

  Another damned wild goose chase that got her nothing useful.

  Just like Vanini...

  GEMINI EXOPLANET SOLUTIONS

  A SEEGSON COMPANY

  MEMO

  From: Management

  To: All Personnel

  Date: October 27, 2137

  Re: Decommissioning

  We’ve had a long journey together, but sadly it’s coming to an end. Seegson Corp. would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you who worked and lived on Sevastopol Station over the years. We hope that Seegson has helped to make it a productive and rewarding environment.