It looked like they were having an engaging discussion on something of great importance before we ruined it by suddenly appearing. Instead of attacking, as normal Xeno did, they fled, one of them less successfully than the others. It flailed its legs, searching for purchase, and fell to the deck.
Then it held its three-fingered hands toward me as if it were trying to ward off an evil spirit and froze. The behavior was so odd, I immediately thought it was a trap, but the cowering thing just looked so genuinely scared out of its wits that I couldn’t help believe it and be a little endeared. But a Xeno was a Xeno, whatever its role was in the galactic domination machine.
“I’ll cover the bugs,” I whispered. “Signal everyone to follow. Column formation. Then, we’ll go see what’s going on here.”
A few seconds later, the others were standing behind me, leaning over to see what I was looking at. I ignored them and started walking, confident that if they didn’t hold their position, Reaver would put them back in line. Only Skrew had to be scolded, and only once.
The strange bug cowered as if in fear. It was something I was unfamiliar with when it came to Xeno. I wasn’t aware that they possessed the ability to understand their own mortality. They’d always acted like the ones in the hallway—more than ready to throw themselves at their enemies, completely fearless to the point of reckless.
“Buggy is scary?” Skrew marveled.
“Looks like it,” I said. “Reaver, have you ever heard of anything like this?”
“No,” she said. “What do you make of it?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I’m thinking this is a drone, a male. Where there is a Queen and a colony, there has to be a way for her to produce more troops.”
“The creature appears old and frail,” Beatrix said.
She had her rifle pointed at the thing’s head. It would occasionally touch the rifle’s muzzle. When it did, she slapped it away with the barrel.
She was right. The Xeno’s carapace was cracked, and it showed evidence of being recently repaired. Long, spidery lines that resembled welds were scattered across its surface. In fact, its left forearm seemed to be completely constructed of welds. Its shoulder resembled a chewed piece of bubble gum.
Social insects produced drones only when they were required for mating and colony-building. When the drones had served their purpose, they either died of the mating process or starved to death. Keeping them around to consume valuable resources was inefficient.
If the Queen was as intelligent as I thought she might be, she could fight nature and keep her drones around long past their normal expiration date. I could only think of two reasons she would do that. Either she could no longer produce drones, or the drones we’d found were produced by another Queen. The second option seemed more likely, as trading drones between colonies would help bolster both sides’ gene pools.
If that was the case, it looked like it had been a long time since the local Queen had seen another. Whether it meant this Queen was too far away from the others to trade or there was some sort of internal conflict happening was another question.
“Skrew can pew the Xeno?” the vrak asked.
“Go ahead,” I said.
Skrew kicked the creature twice, knocking it over onto its face. Then, he proceeded to jab the barrel of the gun at the end of its abdomen where, if it was a bee, its stinger would have been. The spot he was aiming for kept twitching to one side, then the other, avoiding being impaled on the weapon.
“Oh,” Reaver gasped, “I didn’t think he was serious.”
“Just shoot it,” I said, “or I’ll let Beatrix do it. We don’t have time for that just now.”
Skrew sighed, pointed his barrel at the Xeno’s head, and pulled the trigger, burning a hole all the way through. The Xeno quit moving and bled out onto the deck.
Its blood, I noticed, was not the deep green of other Xeno. It was thin, almost transparent, and held a distinctly yellow color. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen oddly-colored Xeno blood. These Xeno weren’t warriors. I set my team back into formation, and we continued to march to our goal.
We’d walked for probably almost 30 minutes when the passage turned to the left and began to level off. I spotted another room about 100 yards ahead and signaled the danger with my hand while I took a knee.
“How much further?” I asked Nyna.
She shrugged. “I know we’re going the right direction, but they didn’t really have a way to measure distance. It didn’t seem important, you know? Like it wasn’t a thing the bugs ever thought about. Maybe the Queen, but not the others. But I don’t think she gets out much.”
We continued forward and found new horrors. The room was wide, kidney-shaped, and shorter than the last, nine feet at the most. Both walls were festooned with translucent membranes arranged in evenly spaced patterns. It was the first time we’d spotted anything in the Xeno hive that made sense. It was a hatchery.
Beatrix and Skrew kept guard, one at each exit.
I peered into the first cell on the left and discovered a pupa the size of a loaf of bread. The Martian government didn’t have any data on what young Xeno looked like, and it appeared I’d answered the question. It seemed I would have the choice of two careers when I returned to Mars: I could catalog my findings and become an innovative scientist, or use all this information to wipe out the Xeno once and for all.
“Son of a bitch,” Reaver breathed. She stumbled
