AVP: Alien vs. Predator

final leg of its journey to the cloud-wreathed, blue-green orb still over 238,000 miles away.

Inside the ship, energy and life-support systems self-activated. Mazelike corridors and domed chambers were flooded with the hot, muggy, oxygen-rich atmosphere of the tropics. One by one, decks were illuminated by a green reptilian glow. The architecture was primitive, and many sections of the craft could pass for the interior of a samurai warlord’s fortress or the grim torture chamber of a medieval castle.

In the half-light, shadows danced along walls etched with sharp-edged hieroglyphics. High, vaulted ceilings resembled those in a Gothic cathedral, but here they gleamed with the blood-red hue of the abattoir.

Other sections of the ship were more organic in appearance. The armory mimicked the fleshy interior of some vast monster’s belly. Curved terra-cotta rib bones festooned the space. Between those faux-ribs, the walls were frescoed with pictographs and were hung with an array of fierce, techno-medieval weaponry: spears with retractable shafts; curved blades carved from yellow bone and bundled together like the fasces of ancient Rome; double-bladed ceremonial knives with serrated edges and ornate handles; metal clubs studded with raked white teeth; hubcap-sized shuriken edged with needle-thin blades; sharp-finned throwing darts larger than rail spikes.

The bloodstained trophies of previous hunts were also mounted in this bleak chamber—skulls of varying shapes and sizes, some broken, with empty sockets and jaws lined with fangs. A panoply of weapons, ranging from a quartz-tipped spear to a meson-interrupting particle beam weapon powerful enough to cut a mountain in half, hung in stasis behind a translucent metal bulkhead.

Beyond the armory, deep within the heart of this otherworldly ship, a computer screen brightened to reveal a thermal image of the Piper Maru floating on the vast expanse of ocean. Foreign cryptographs scrolled across the screen as the spaceship’s cybernetic brain calculated the distance between the icebreaker and the array of interconnected squares on Antarctica.

Process complete, the computer sent out an alarm—a sibilant hiss audible throughout the alien vessel. Around that central monitor, lights flickered to reveal a circular chamber heavy with moisture. A deep pool of dark liquid dominated the floor. A white mist curled over the ooze. Surrounding the pool like petals on a flower, massive shapes drifted inside of five translucent cryostasic cylinders.

Suddenly the cryo-tanks burst, spilling their contents into the central pool. The liquid roiled as colossal shapes began to stir in the muck. Broad, mottled faces surfaced in the rippling fluid, their features a nightmare amalgamation of insect, shellfish and reptile. Sentience burned behind eyes that seemed strangely human— intelligent eyes that focused on the image of the Piper Maru still flickering on the monitor. Around the mouth of each creature, fingerlike mandibles flexed.

CHAPTER 8

Aboard the Piper Maru,

Eleven Miles Off the Coast of Antarctica

The sky was a canvas of lead, a low full moon occasionally visible through breaks in the clouds. After the unsettled weather of the past few hours, the sea was now surprisingly calm, its smooth surface broken only by chunks of ice, many the size of an SUV. This moment would seem almost temperate for the Antarctic Circle if a frigid wind weren’t cutting across the steel deck, sending icy claws into the men huddled there. Despite their layers of wool, flannel, cotton and the Polartec coveralls that supposedly protected them from the elements, a few shivered.

Sebastian De Rosa and Thomas came onto the deck to find themselves among the busy workers. Avoiding stares from the roughnecks, who were hauling tracked vehicles out of the hold with a crane and lining them up on deck, Sebastian drifted over to the scientists and mercenaries gathered near the rail. Although he wore so many layers of clothing that he felt like a walking teddy bear, he was shivering and sporting a thin layer of frost on his chin by the time he reached Miller’s side.

“You okay?” Miller asked.

“Too much time spent in the tropics.”

“Yeah, that tan does make you look like the odd man out around here.”

Sebastian turned his eyes skyward, hoping for a ray of warm sunshine. But only the moon was visible in a slate gray sky. “What time is it anyway?”

Miller glanced at his watch. “Midday.”

“Then where’s the sun?”

“This far south they have six months of darkness. The sun never rises. Perpetual night… or whatever this is.”

Sebastian suppressed a shudder. He should have guessed that already, of course, but he’d been distracted, his mind on the ancient pyramids of Mexico, Egypt and Cambodia. “Charming.”

“When is this survival lesson to begin?” Thomas asked. “I have way too much to do before we reach the excavation site.”

Sebastian watched Alexa Woods approach from across the deck. “Recess is over. Here comes the teacher now.”

Miller grinned when he saw her. “See,” he said. “I told you she’d stay. It’s my animal magnetism. It’s irresistible.”

“Everybody gather round,” Lex began without preamble. “It is my job to keep all of you alive on this expedition and I need your help to do that. Antarctica is the most hostile environment on God’s earth. It is difficult to thrive in this climate, and very easy to die.”

As Lex spoke, Thomas took out a video camera and began to record her briefing. As she spoke, Adele Rousseau—a tall, striking woman with a shock of blond hair and an Amazonian physique—began to issue everyone communication devices. Meanwhile, a Weyland technician laid an array of cold-weather tools and equipment on the deck for demonstration purposes.

“Since I don’t have the time to properly train you, I’m laying down three simple rules,” Lex told them. “One. No one goes anywhere alone. Ever. Two. Everyone will maintain constant communication. Three. Unexpected things do happen. When they do—no one tries to be a hero.”

“For some of us it comes naturally,” said Miller, chuckling.

“Laugh it up, Beaker,” barked the mercenary Verheiden. He pointed at his own cheek. “You get scars like this when some hero on your team screws up their assignment.”

Lex stepped between them.

“If one of us goes down, we’re all going after them. Understood?” she said, directing her question to Verheiden.

“Understood,” said a consensus. Verheiden said nothing.

Next Lex directed their attention to the identical, bright yellow Polartec coats issued to all the scientists and technicians. She held one up, turned it inside out, walked in a circle so everyone could get a good look.

“What you are wearing now are state-of-the-art cold-weather suits. The outer material is fabricated from recycled plastic soda bottles and is practically airtight. The polypropylene inner lining will whisk perspiration away from your skin before the moisture freezes.

“Our gloves are also manufactured from Polartec, with Capilene lining that will absorb a moderate amount of perspiration—but your hands sweat a lot, so always carry an extra pair of gloves.

“This gear is the best there is, so if you feel cold now, get used to it, because it is only going to get worse —”

“Great,” muttered Sebastian.

“Temperatures out here drop to below minus fifty Fahrenheit on a regular basis, with wind chill that can become minus one hundred and fifty.” Lex paused in front of the workers and locked eyes with Verheiden.

“Stay still for too long, you will freeze, you will die. Exert yourself too much, you will sweat, the sweat will freeze, and you will die…”

She looked at Sebastian and Thomas. “Breathe too heavily and moisture will enter your lungs, the moisture