Alien - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Transformation ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Transformation

 

Chapter 4

A vengeful hiss rasped the air, and Arthur kept his distance from his newfound opponent, one of the others, a drone. It was a classic scene out of an old western movie. Two opponents faced each other ready to draw weapons and end the other with a bullet through the head. The western image was marred by the futuristic surroundings, and all was destroyed, tattered, riddled with holes, and melted with alien blood. Arthur waited appraising his opponent with senses far surpassing anything human. Full 360 degree vision had been combined and enhanced by sound. Like echolocation, sound helped clear up images and its source became clearer. It was a built in early warning system. Right now, he could sense nothing.

 

The drone, the weaker but no less deadly creature, stood perfectly still drawing no attention from Arthur's alien senses. Arthur imagined it planning its every move. There was no telling what the drone knew about xenomorph biology such as weak points or major internal organs. This battle could get ugly.

 

A burst of clarity from the drone's hind legs sent waves of alarm through Arthur. It leapt straight into the air targeting Arthur. As he thought to react, his body had already thrown itself mid air to counter act the force. With his greater strength, Arthur simply flung the drone across the room. The drone slid off the wall and sloppily sprawled itself on the ground stunned. Arthur, unwilling to give up his disadvantage, instinctively pounced on his fallen foe.

 

The drone twisted horribly fast onto its back, grappled Arthur mid air, rolled with his momentum, and kicked Arthur right into the wall. Now on its feet, the drone launched its tail throwing its full weight into the disoriented Arthur as he slid down the wall. The tail missed by millimeters slightly denting the wall to the right of Arthur's head. The loud clang of metal shook Arthur back to his senses.

 

Now he was angry. Arthur aggressively drove himself into the drone headfirst. The drone, unused to unorthodox moves, gave a shriek as it was pounded into the metal wall for the second time. Returning the favor, Arthur launched his own heavier tail directly at the drones head. But inexperience weighed on his actions, and his tail rammed a few inches away from the drone's head. Unlike large dent the drone produced, Arthur's own tail actually dug a few inches into the metal with a hideous shriek that he felt all the way up his spine. The drone realizing his physical disadvantage dove away from Arthur jumping flea like from wall to ceiling and landing at the other side of the room.

 

That was it? Arthur's thoughts mirrored the taunting roar that echoed from his throat. He had no time to waste. Come on! The beckoning motion Arthur made with his hand was almost comical.

 

Confusion?

 

The emotion surprised Arthur. He was not confused. That feeling was not his own. The other drone pulled itself onto its feet and cocked its head to its side. That emotion of confusion had not come from him. Therefore, it had to have come from the other. Arthur shook himself as it finally dawned on him what he had felt. It was some sort of telepathy.

 

Anger?

 

Did it just ask him a question? Arthur withdrew himself from his aggressive stance, but he kept his distance. The other xenomorph made no hostile actions of its own. Yes, he was angry. But why did it attack him then?

 

Understand.

 

Understand? Arthur wanted answers not riddles.

 

Test. To Understand. To know other.

 

Arthur simply stared at the drone as it seemed to mewl. All it wanted was to know if he was dangerous just as he thought them to be. Judging from the past rampage around him, they both were wary of one another. He was an unknown, unproven variable to them. It was sickening to think of this thing before him as a friend. But he knew to pick his fights. If the rest of them came, he doubted he would win against a single individual let alone an army.

His carefully well thought out apology was way beyond the limited intelligence the drone was capable of. But it knew the feeling.

 

No threat. Going back.

 

The drone did not care to check if Arthur understood its simple message. It scampered off and did whatever it is that it did. This was by far the strangest moment of his life to experience a sort of eerie camaraderie with this creature. It was almost humane. Disgust swept through Arthur again. No, they could never be humane. He… they… were murderers instinctively born to kill. The ability to love and care ended when you spilled innocent blood. He wanted his humanity back. He wanted his identity that the company stole from him. He wanted out of this god forsaken nightmare that mirrored the emotional trauma of loss so rooted into his own deep seated fears. If he could not become human again, there was a possibility that he would no longer be human. He would lose himself just like in his nightmares forever gone in a void of darkness never to return.

 

The cure he sought presented itself in none of the rooms in this half of the space station. The other drone was long gone. He had sensed it, barely, moving deep towards the other end of the station. For now he should explore this part. But after ten minutes of walking through the maze like halls and the illogical use of space, Arthur could still not figure out exactly where the drone had gone to. Both parts of the space station were like night and day to one another. The laboratory was given full priority, well built, logically laid out, and ready for almost any disaster except for internal sabotage. This side of the station was where the costs were cut. Much of the rooms were sloppily placed about. It seemed as if the Company had refurbished this side or moved beds, showers, and kitchens into rooms they were not meant to go. Arthur felt disoriented by how lazy the Company was in promoting a decent standard of living. More than once, he had step past hallways with live wires running across ceilings. Fire hazards lay everywhere.

 

Disgruntled, Arthur returned to the airlock to retrace his steps. The soldiers must have been taken completely off guard by the entry through the air lock. His search found nothing but silent living quarters, eerily clean bathrooms and shower stalls, maintenance equipment, and an armory in complete disarray devoid of anything but the heaviest weaponry. Arthur had basic training with small arms and was given basic training with a pulse rifle. He was not stupid enough to pick up the heavier smart guns and anti armor weaponry. The latter was against normal space operating procedure, a testament to the Company's disinterest in safety procedures. Pulse rifles would not break through a ships hull but an anti armor weapon would. Arthur lost interest and continued his search.

 

It took far more time to retrace his steps. Rooms seemed so much larger when you checked and upturned every metaphorically stone. As a construction worker, Arthur took note of the lack of air ventilation shafts and maintenance shafts. All parts of the station were easily accessible from the hallways. That would make it easy to contain an outbreak or locate an infestation. However, this design philosophy meant equipment usually hidden behind walls was out in the open cluttering hallways. It was a design that had abandoned decades ago and was strangely reminiscent of the old floating refineries notorious for being both the first completely automated space worthy ships of its kind and the for their high records of malfunctions, deaths, and equipment failure. Ironically, they had become even safer than newer models simply because of their constant overhauls, but a bad reputation was hard to change. Needless to say, this proven death trap design philosophy irked Arthur to end. However unlike the neat sterile laboratory section, this half of the station felt as if it had been lived in. It was a ghost town at the edge of the known universe. And he still had no answers!

 

Arthur cried bloodthirsty vengeance and dented the metal wall with an open hand thrust. There were no clues here! No answers to the questions that burned through his mind! Nothing. Just whispers and echoes! Tearing into the living quarters with in anger, Arthur threw bed sheets about, trashed the thin mattress beds and wiped personal belongings of desks. Small metal cabinets were tipped over spilling all manner of clothing onto the floor.

 

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the moment of rage dissipated. He metaphorically breathed deeply and relaxed from his release of pent up stress. With careful consideration and a guilty conscience, he replaced the items to their original state. There was humanity here. It came as the glint of a smile in a photograph of a loved one. He set the portrait of a smiling young lady back in its place on the cabinet. It came with the joy of each personal belonging. A trinket or a hunk of plastic and metal were cherished. This dull place had been people's homes. But their presence had given this place life and meaning. Even if they were here no longer; he would not deny them their humanity. He finished cleaning and finally left moving on to find another piece to his puzzle. A quick glance showed the portrait of the young lady was dated with her birth and her death. There was humanity here. And he had no part in it. The metal door closed behind him and the automatic lights shut off swathing the room back into darkness.

 

Arthur now had only one last hope. The atrocious design of this place hid away a very small hallway obscured by equipment and darkness. Lighting here had failed long ago. Bullet holes through ceiling lights answered why. Arthur walked slowly on his feet ignoring how uncomfortable it had become. His vision adjusted accordingly and instantly. Night turned into day. And now Arthur understood where he was heading. The large painted arrow on the hallway was labeled as a “docking bay.” In the event of an emergency, many people would have died trying to escape through this cramped space. The architect of this place had been arrogant assuming the laboratory could contain any problems. The carnage he was walking through was by far the worse on the station. There was blood everywhere and fresh gore. Light chunks of meat both human and alien lay scattered about the empty battlefield. There were no large acidic burns meaning no alien had been killed. People had been massacred here.

 

The end of the hallway led to a slightly jarred open doorway only large enough for two to exit through at a time. Arthur could see the beginnings of a quick welding to seal the door shut. That had apparently failed. With power to this small section of hallway disabled, Arthur had to pry the door open once again. He almost flinched when he saw the docking bay. Almost. Too much had happened for him to fully comprehend its horror.

 

Welcome to the docking bay, the graveyard, the massacre. Everywhere was a scene of shocking and disturbing carnage. Bodies were left strewn about. All were left their last moments etched in agony on their face. All the bodies had been absolutely demolished, limbs ripped apart, gore thrown as shrapnel, and notably deep claw marks that turned human flesh into pureed meat. The smell was horrible. Not because it smelled disgusting, but because he could almost taste the similarities between human flesh and the animal meats he had been forced to eat.

 

Arthur checked over each body lining them up with humane intent. There were a total of fifty three somewhat intact bodies here. He recognized some of them. Johnson had died with his hands clutched around the back of his head; a last ditch effort that failed to stop the secondary jaw of a drone. Mary lay with no expression on her face. The only sign of her last moments lay in the pain in her clear eyes. Bob was only recognizable because of his height otherwise his body was completely destroyed. Alice, that vibrant lively girl, had put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger. Finally the man he had enjoyed terrifying had been skewered through his stomach and left to bleed to death. He lay there before Arthur bone white from the loss of blood. No animal would have thought to have provoked such pain and mutilation. There had been an intelligent mind behind this massacre.

 

The rest of the docking bay was an advanced open space design. It was massive more than enough to hold a few small modern vessels. He noticed a small escape vessel docked in a corner. The space station had an opening directly into the void of space. Beyond on that lay the glistening planet below and the endless vast field of stars. Arthur never really understood the science behind this sort of docking bay, but he knew that it actually cut down on overall operating costs. The strange bellowing hum was the only sign of the energy field that kept the void of space at bay. The standard space worthy escape raft floated perfectly over the opening held in place by retractable railed bridges. It was an aerodynamic spherical shell whose design was broken by the boxy geometric engines that shunted out to either side. The ship hovered over the gaping hole like a roller coaster ride about to drop down that first hill.

 

Arthur leaned over the edge of the bay staring down to the planet. Fourteen drops into a planet and hundreds of simulations never held back the dread as one was about to enter the atmosphere and the gravity hit one full force in the gut. The opening screamed from the brisk movement of air as it rippled and distorted the strange barrier.

 

“Warning,” Mother's voice interrupted Arthur's thoughts. He backed away from the ledge as Mother's speech echoed across the room.

 

“Containment failure. Protocol 32b active. Thank you and have a nice day!”

 

Arthur stopped dead cold in his tracks. Protocol 32b. Anyone who ever traveled open space dreaded those words. It was a self destruct sequence used by the Company to make sure their investment was secure.

 

“Standard sequence set. Thank you and have a nice day!” Mother knew no irony and spoke sweetly. Standard sequence meant he had an hour left before the Company covered its tracks with a catastrophic detonation.

 

The air was suddenly filled with inhuman screams, and clarity defined its source. Arthur whipped around staring at the large steel garage-style door directly in front of the escape vessel. The words scrawled over the top of the door read “Generator Room” made barely legible by smears of acidic and human blood. His mind raced as alien hands drew the door upward pouring in a small army of drones, their thinner figures and pockmarked heads instantly noticeable. Their grace told a tale of deadliness and murder. Their organization showed fear inspiring intelligence.

 

Arthur made no hostile moves. He was not stupid. One or two he could take with some dumb luck, but an army of drones would massacre him. Some stood aggressively and flexed claw-like, bloodied hands and others knelt on all fours ready to pounce. The situation grew tenser as the main lighting shut off returning to warning sirens and flickering red emergency lights. Arthur's entire body tensed with strength that could crush steel, but he made no visible movement. Surprisingly they made no hostile moves themselves. It was a showdown again, but this was no western movie. The drones stood as jurors ready to hand down their verdict and add another notch to their killing spree.

 

Return, we must prepare.

 

And a voice spoke in Arthur's mind. It was a siren's song, accommodating, pleasant, ethereal, unearthly, and joyful. The voice echoed in his mind, words fail to describe its heavenly beauty. Every word he heard had a true meaning; he knew every detail and reasoning behind them. Every argument was complete and unbreakable. There was no room for confusion. It spoke to his curiosity to find the source.

 

Return.

 

The voice became the gentle tone of a mother. There was love behind those words. It was not a command but a suggestion filled with kindness and understanding. The drones ahead of him relaxed adopting a subservient pose as they re-entered the generator room. They had no reason to argue against it. Yet Arthur stood absolutely still.

 

Arthur… please.

 

It was a simple suggestion, a kind word, and a mother's love. Arthur fell in line with the others but kept his distance. He should have felt worry or unease at being unnaturally calm. He no longer cared about the emergency. The danger of dying horribly was washed away with that voice. All he wanted to do was find that voice, that hypnotic, beautiful voice.

 

The other drones ignored him as they began to wrench the generator door open. Their minds were silent focused on their job at hand. Arthur was the last to enter figuratively licking the heels of his unwanted brethren. The garage door jammed remaining open. There was complete silence now. The generators, dull-grey, metal cylinders harnessing fusion, gave no sound. The drones, equally silent, moved deeper into a cavernous maze of industrial equipment and Arthur followed suit. Maintenance tools lay everywhere in disarray; parts of delicate electronic equipment had been exposed their metal covers lying on the floor. A cold cup of coffee and a half eaten donut denoted a worker's makeshift table on an electronic console. Then the drones stopped before a large black wall.

 

Welcome.

 

That was no wall. It moved gracefully like the drones but it was much too heavy to be completely silent. He saw every thump as it slowly moved into the light. Dear God. The creature's crown, a massive plate of living armor, glinted to Arthur's vision under the red glow of the emergency lights. Its two immense legs supported the weight of its massive body. It had two arms proportional to its body and a curious underdeveloped, small set of arms set in the chest. The tail looked as if it could tear a tank in two; Arthur noted it was the same design as his tail flickering behind him in tense fear.

 

There is nothing to fear, Arthur.

 

It made the voice. That beautiful voice came from this monstrosity.

 

You are so very honest.

 

This was no animal. It could not be. The drones, they could barely form a coherent thought, but this creature spoke with emotion and intellect. It knew him; that was a terrifying advantage it held over him.

 

Where is the danger?

 

What danger? The emergency sirens began screeching breaking the trance Arthur was in. The protocol! He had to leave. He had to leave now! Arthur blurred as he dashed out of the room like a cheetah making a bee line directly for the escape raft. Behind him the army of drones and their Queen followed Arthur. Arthur flew through the open back end of the escape raft, galloped past the decent-sized storage bay, and forced the door open into the main cabin. The pilot's controls were located close to the front of the ship past three large bench style seats running along the walls with heavy duty seat belts and a safety bar for best protection.

 

The pilot's seat was a mass of simple electronic displays, sophisticated artificial emergency pilot mechanisms, and industrial looking manual controls. Arthur, overwhelmed at the mess, wracked his mind to remember how to activate the auto-pilot. He pushed away a pile of keyboards and damaged equipment onto the floor revealing the bright red autopilot switch locked behind glass. He registered no pain as he smashed through the cover with his hands and flicked the switch. Nothing happened.

 

Damn, he would have to pilot the craft in manually; something he had never done especially well in. Arthur calmed himself down and started the manual controls. His hands gripped the joystick like device used in such emergencies. The start up sequence seemed to take years slowly casting an artificial glow about the deck.

 

We must hurry.

 

Arthur fiddled with the controls ignoring the drones and the Queen behind him. The whole craft screamed as the docking mechanisms disengaged itself from the escape craft. Three clicks, Arthur remembered, and they were going to be dropped right into the planet's gravity field, a ride to hell. The final docking mechanism unlocked. Arthur felt his heart or equivalent leap into his throat.

 

They dropped burning straight through the energy barrier. The ship suddenly lost its stability and began tumbling as it exited the station. Immediately, Arthur noticed the controls were far too rigid as if they had been undergoing maintenance. He stared careful at the display before him noticing the plotted out course in a 3D array. Metal groaned as the engines birthed flame. The drones behind him screeched as the erratic g forces became unbearable. He desperately fought with the raft hoping to right himself and follow the regulated course.

 

Calm. Be calm. Follow the course.

 

Arthur, shaken, righted the craft following the plotted course. His mind raced. How far did they need to be to avoid the initial blast? The escape vessel groaned its sorrow as the space station exploded geysers of pure fire before turning into a sphere of blue super heated plasma. The sphere grew immensely becoming a fiery wall catching up rapidly to the escape vessel. The advanced radar laid out the edge of explosion sprinting right across void of spacing to its prey. Arthur saw his entire life and said his prayers.

 

We do what we must, Arthur. Have faith in yourself.

 

The wall of blue fire touched the very back end of the raft before stopping. That was enough to rupture a main engine sending heated chunks of the escape vessel careening in space. Arthur felt the whole ship cartwheel dramatically; the ships yelled its pain with a myriad of error messages. The display showed them fly completely out of the set course. Arthur heard the screech of metal from the damaged engines as it finally shut itself off. With only one engine for maneuverability and stiff controls, the escape raft prematurely entered the atmosphere.

 

Show faith. Don't let it go.

 

Arthur ignored the words of encouragement as he tried desperately to stabilize the ship. They would all die if the vessel hit the ground at this speed. Fire engulfed the craft casting fumes of heat in its wake.

 

Let us pray. Hail Mary… full of grace.

 

Arthur cocked his head as he heard her prayer. In his mind, he saw a young mother cradling a small child… her daughter. Who were you?

 

Blessed are you amongst women…

 

The dusty desert planet was so close now. He could make out the hills now and the small lakes dotting the landscape.

 

Holy Mary… mother of God… pray for us sinners…

 

The remaining engine began to wane as the damage took its toll. Arthur grasped the controls for the last time; the ship finally adjusted itself to a safer angle. But without the engines, Arthur could only rely on the hope the ship was sturdy enough to take an extremely rough landing. They were only hundreds of feet from the ground now.

 

Now and at the our of our death, Amen.

 

The vessel slammed into the ground horizontally tearing the final engine off and bouncing off a sand dune. Inside, Arthur watched as the front of the ship met the sandy ground exploding into a wave of brown sand right at him. He fell into darkness once again.