Alien Harvest

69

The armed men were moving across the corridors between the force fields that lay between Potter's ship and the harvester. The force fields shimmered faintly in the pelting rain. Low, flat lighting, grim and without shadows, illuminated the scene, and this was aided by the search beam from the Lancet, which flooded different areas with its sulfurous, yellow light. The men moved at a brisk trot, helmet shields up so they could communicate better. Their troubles began slowly and built fast. The first man to scream was hardly noticed, so rapidly were the others moving. But then the squad leader became aware that something was amiss. His name was Blake and he was from Los Angeles. He was used to skulking around smoking ruins and walking down ruined streets. So he wasn't entirely surprised when he saw one of the men throw his arms in the air as something long and black snaked out from seemingly nowhere and grabbed him around the neck. But what had it been? Blake wasn't sure. He stared, gaped. Another man screamed, and was dragged away shrieking. Then Blake realized that somehow the aliens had gotten into the uninterdicted corridors between the force fields, and were grabbing soldiers as they crossed from one field to another. Seeing this, Blake shouted some orders. His little squadron was already cut in half. He ordered the remaining soldiers to fight back-to-back. They were closer to the harvester than to the Lancet, so he ordered them to continue.

You could see that the men didn't want to go. What had begun as a nice little bug fight had turned into a slaughter of humans. It wasn't fair! But there was no one to complain to.

They fought, their weapons flashing and flaming, and they caught a group of aliens as they were preparing to charge, caught them dead on and blew them to hell and back. The air rained black body parts. The acid from the aliens' wounds sprayed far and wide, and the ground sizzled beneath them. Luckily the soldiers were in acid-proof armor, or the acid would have made short work of them.

The sun came out as the slaughter continued, and the men seemed to be holding their own. Then the aliens got around the other side of the force field, and the soldiers were caught between two attacking alien groups.

They continued fighting, falling one after another. The lucky ones were dead when they hit the ground. Some of the others, wounded but not yet dead, weren't so lucky. Aliens draped them over their shoulders and retreated to the hive. These soldiers would make fine hosts, just what the queen needed.

Seeing this, Blake fought hard to keep his composure. It was unnerving, seeing friend after friend pulled apart, torn to bits, or dragged away unconscious to be glued to the wall of the hive with something small and deadly growing inside him, after the facehugger had done its work.

Blake turned back. It was all happening too fast. When he looked around, he saw the last of his men collapse, scream, and get dragged off. Blake saw his chance and sprinted to the harvester. He got there before the aliens, but just barely. He pounded at the door. “Let me in! Please, please, let me in!”

Stan's mild-mannered face peered back at him through the viewport. His lips moved. Blake couldn't hear the words, but Stan was saying, “Sorry, I can't open the door. I don't have the strength to close it again.”

Blake pounded again, and then the aliens were on him. A claw came around his shoulder and grabbed his face at the forehead. It pulled, tearing the skin right off. Blake felt his nose pull away, felt his lips leave his mouth, felt all this, and then another claw had seized him by the neck, it was pulling out the tendons of his neck! And then Blake felt no more.

70

Potter was shouting, his voice grating on the speaker. “Damn you! What have you done to my men?”

“Not a thing, Captain,” Myakovsky said. “They brought it on themselves. Nothing I could do for them. Can you get us out of here, Captain?”

“It seems scarcely worth my time,” Potter grumbled. “I ought to nuke all of you.”

“But then you'd lose the contents of the harvester,” Stan said.

“True enough. But I could always come back for it, after things have cooled down.”

“I have a better plan,” Stan said. “Something that will be of use to us all.”

“Hurry up and tell me what it is,” Potter said. “I don't like leaving my ship down here.”

“It's too complicated to explain over radio,” Stan said. “But I think you will like it. Listen, I have an android here who has been damaged in recent fighting. I could send him over to you. He'd explain the whole thing.”

“I don't know if I should even bother.” Potter was obviously thinking aloud.

“I think you'll be interested in my scheme,” Stan continued. “And after all, it won't take very long.”

“All right,” Potter said. “Send him over. This better be good.”

“It'll be very good,” Stan affirmed.

“How are you going to get him through the aliens? If my own men couldn't make it, how do you expect your android to get here?”

“Modern technology is a wonderful thing,” Stan said evasively. “He'll be right over, Captain. Signing off.”

71

“Julie,” Gill said. “Can you hear me?”

Julie's eyelids fluttered. Pain contorted her face. She gave a long shudder and then looked around. “Oh my God, is this where I am? I was having such a nice dream, Gill. There's this lake I know of. I went there just once when I was a little girl. I remember fields of spring flowers, a little lake. There was a rowboat. I was drifting in the rowboat, and there were willows hanging down over the boat. Oh, Gill, it was so pretty!”

“I'm sure it was,” Gill said.

“Have you ever had a dream like that?” Julie asked.

“No, I have not,” Gill replied. “I do not dream.”

“Well, you can have half of mine,” Julie said sleepily. “It wasn't really a little lake, I don't need it all….”

“Where's Stan?”

“He's right over there,” Gill said. “He's trying to save you.”

Julie grimaced. “I'm afraid he's cut it a little too fine this time. Poor Stan. He has such great ideas. But I'm glad I came, anyhow. He's not long for this world, you know.”

“I know,” Gill said.

“It's too bad. He's such a brilliant man. But they've done nothing but crowd him. He hasn't had a chance. Except this one. And I think this wasn't much of a chance.”

“I suppose not,” Gill said. She looked at him. “Your arm! What happened?”

“Ran into a little trouble,” Gill said.

“You're using understatement, just like a human.”

“I suppose it rubs off,” Gill said. “A lot of things do. I feel…”

“Yes?”

“I feel like I understand a lot more about humans now,” Gill said. “It's … interesting, isn't it?”

“I suppose it is,” Julie said. “Are you all right, Gill? You've got a very strange expression on your face.”

“I'm fine,” Gill muttered. “It's just that … well, even an android can run out of time.”

Suddenly Stan's voice came from across the cabin. “Gill? What are you doing?”

“Just looking after Julie, sir.”

“That's good. But she needs to rest now. Come over here. I have some instructions for you.”

“Yes, Dr. Myakovsky.” He turned to Julie. “Julie …”

“What is it, Gill?”

“Try not to forget me.” Gill stood up and crossed the room.

Stan Myakovsky was huddled up in the control chair. He appeared to be experiencing no pain for the moment. But he had changed. Gill noticed that the doctor seemed to have shrunk inside his own skin, to be falling in on himself.