It had been nearly a century after the destruction of the Hadley's Hope terraforming colony, and life continued as miserably as usual on LV-426. A trio of eggs had been uncovered in the ash, lying dormant as if they had expected a company man to come looking for them. They were all that was left of the nightmarish world that existed long before the Weyland-Yutani Corporation had made up its mind to return to the desolate rock where everything began.
            Even the ship (which I had been told was crescent-shaped and phenomenally advanced with regards to its technology) had been caught in the explosion and reduced to nothing more than debris to be tossed about on the wind. How the eggs buried deep within its bowels had managed to escape the wrath of destruction was a question none dared to try and answer. Instead, we considered ourselves fortunate to be blessed with a Queen and two studs. With them, she could mate, thus bringing into the world what was to be the second generation.
            We housed our first Queen in the largest holding pen, though this proved to be insubstantial as she grew rapidly and her egg sac began to form. Her Soldiers were housed in pens on either side of the one that held her Majesty. They were separated, but allowed to enter her diminutive realm when she was receptive. The largest of the males took her first, and from his semen nearly one-hundred functional eggs were brought forth, though a large percentage we left in stasis due to a shortage of hosts.
            A dog--failure of his obedience and training sessions--sufficed as a carrier for the first born. Once the egg seal was broken, wicked fingerlike digits curled their way up over the folds. A pale, faceless being sprang forward. Eight gnarled limbs wrapped themselves about the face of the doomed creature, a tail swiftly coiling around his neck. For a moment the dog struggled and swung his head about, attempting to cry out but his voice was muffled and soon died away. He lay there unmoving, only his chest rising and falling as he breathed.
            When at last the parasite had had its way with him, it pulled off its fresh host and slipped away into a corner to die. The dog remained bewildered for the time still left in his short life. We expected several hours would pass, but the birth came sooner than we had anticipated. I stood aside and watched when the convulsions began.
            A pale beige-yellow being thrust its awkward body through the ribcage of the dying host, entering our world in the blood of its birth giver. Feeble limbs strained themselves beyond their limit to support the ungainly head of the newborn. Crying weakly, it fought with the tissue still clinging to its wet body. It seemed only capable of moving its tail, but I was taken with it all the same.
            My legs gave out. All sensible and conscious thoughts had fled from my mind. I dropped to the floor and clutched the first born of our Queen in my arms. It screamed and writhed as if in pain, legs flailing wildly and claws slashing in every direction. The scrubs I wore ripped beneath its strength, already so easily felt. The skin upon my chest bled heavy rivers of red that spilled onto the floor, yet I clung tenaciously.
            Several shouts filled the air as the metal doors separated and the medical staff poured into the room. A metal vice seized the infant and tore it out of my grasp, and suddenly I felt as if a part of me was gone. Its voice pierced the air, several of the men shuddering and falling to their knees with their hands clamped tightly over their ears. Abruptly it was removed, squealing in hatred and terror, and taken to the labs and the newly built pens at the opposite end of the facility. Now they had it. The first of the new generation of perfect biological weapons had been born, the marks of its power cleanly cut into my flesh.

            No time was wasted on my part. It would take only hours for the new beast to grow, and I had less than that to establish a bond between our species. I fled to one of the medical labs and relieved myself of my bloodied scrubs. Lacking earnest concern, I hastily washed out the cuts on my chest-just enough to rinse the blood away. Twisting open a small tube, I applied more than my fair share of the pale white antibiotic cream, smearing it over the burning wounds.
            Without a second glance, I snatched the first available pair of scrubs still left on the rack and threw them on. They were several sizes too large and I pulled tight the strings about the waist and sides to bring them closer to my body, yet they still swished and swayed inches from my skin as I again bolted down the hall.
             The medical and science staffs were bustling about as if their garments were ablaze. Held in (and often spilling out of) their arms were papers and clipboards, and equipment of varying purposes. Two men hauled a large crate down the center of the hall, wheeling it on a wide iron cart. Small round holes cut into the sides lay neatly in a row near the top rim of the enclosure, the sounds of bewildered livestock emanating from them. I abruptly followed and turned when they entered the abattoir to the right.
            A few meters further and I arrived in the latest addition. A month ago it had been complete, and still the scent of its newness reigned in the air. Several paces away from the thick door leading to the first holding area, and already I could hear the screams of the newborn. Five men filed out as I approached, tattered and bloody as I had been. After their leave, I peered inside at Dmarias, top researcher of his league, scribbling onto the paper before him. His jet black hair was slicked back toward one side like the rolling waves of the ocean at night. Hearing my entrance, he turned and two deep blue abysses pierced me immediately.
            "There you are," he grinned, as if it would sugarcoat his malice. "So I heard you were the first to hold the newborn."
            News moved about swiftly, it seemed. I could do nothing but nod in agreement. "Yes, I was, and this concerns you because-?"
            "Because I have been set in charge of the beast!" Dmarias snapped, though his sudden rush of anger surprised even himself. Regaining his composure, he whirled around again and peered through the glass into the holding pen of the Firstborn. "XM-104 has been named mine to study and to see that it develops as it should. What exactly is your interest in it?"
            "He," I corrected, and instantly felt a fool for doing so.
            Dmarias laughed. "And you know this how? The Queens are the only members of this species that have a conspicuous gender. Otherwise, they are all identical without proper examination."
            "It's a guess, but he may as well be sexed. How else would you know how to pair him in breeding?"
            "Indeed," was his sour reply. Flipping up the end of his papers he peered at one near the center of the pile and gave a wicked sneer, eyes following me all the way to the viewing glass of the pen. "Well, you were correct. The specimen is male, and I suppose you'll be naming it soon enough then?"
            "I might…" My answer trailed off. I was overcome with the sight of the creature. Already its skin had begun to peel away, revealing a slightly darker shade of flesh underneath.
            "He has no use for a name. He's been given an identification number and that shall suffice." Dmarias was adamant in his decision, though any thought or idea was deemed unnecessary when not of his own creation. "What good would a name be? Do you intend on leading the beast around on a chain like a dog?"
            The hair on my neck rose with fear as he approached and hung over me. His breath was hot, yet made me shiver all the same. There was a horrifying graveness in his tone.
            "This being was not birthed for your amusement. I suggest you return to your cleanup duties and let the scientists take care of the important work."
            "I might join you." I interjected, only realizing what I had said after the words were out.
            "You're not a qualified scientist," scoffed Dmarias, "and wearing my scrubs will not make you one."
            He brutally jerked the strings of my top, loosening them as the fabric began to slide off me. I held it fast and turned round again to face his mocking smile.
            "It was all that was left, and anyway, I could just as easily become a researching assistant."
            "Just to play with your pet?" He questioned, one hand now on the glass above me.
            I hesitated a moment. "Just to piss you off."
            He curled his lip back into a vile snarl, the lust for striking me clear in his cold, dark eyes. My hands were shaking and my face started to pale, but I held myself up and returned his awful glare. Locked in our lethal silent combat, the rest of the world ceased to exist until the door flung open and a man in white poked his head inside.
            "She's receptive!" He exhaled loudly, causing Dmarias to whip around in surprise.
            "Again? It's been only days since our first Soldier took her!"
            "I'm telling you, she's receptive again!" argued the man, perspiration dripping off his brow.
            Dmarias opened his mouth to reply and was left gaping when the walls of the structure shuddered atop their foundation. A thunderous roar tore through the building, the desperate cry of the Queen. Loyal to her Majesty, the two men bolted from the room and were followed by a flood of medical personnel.
            I was torn between the excitement taking place at the opposite end of the facility, and the squealing infant in the holding pen behind me. Having heard the bellows of his mother, he began to search in vain for their source. A pile of freshly shed skin lay in one corner. Already he had increased in size, half that of his canine host. Tirelessly he thrust his head against the walls and vocalized his lament.
            Again the desire struck me. His plight seemed to draw me in his direction-into the pen. My fingers grazed the switches on the wall, unlocking the entryway momentarily and revealing the threshold of his domain. Blindly, I pressed the identical set of controls on the other end to close the door behind me. The rush of air startled the beast and it whirled around, hissing.
            A bronze serpentine tail curled around the crouching body. What light there was to spare in the room glistened on the wet cylindrical head. As I sank to the floor, the creature rose at the front and thrust out his ribbed chest. Jaws gaping, the whitish appendage in his mouth slid out and its mouthparts gnashed direly. Full grown, he would have had me, but I could not buy into the bluff of a newborn. His claws were vile, but his teeth were underdeveloped and his skin thinner than my own. He was more fearful of my presence than I of his, if only for that moment in time.
            Every few seconds I inched forward, and the closer I got, the louder the newborn screamed and more grievously he hissed. When I came within a few feet of him I stretched out my arms to touch his dull golden flesh. Indignantly he whipped his tail around, beating upon the walls as a threat. One set of claws caught the skin of my arm and tore it open, red streams pouring out. Abruptly I backed off with the injured limb hugged close to my chest.
            Blood soaked into my pale cyan scrubs. All strength seemed to ebb as I sat, crouched low to the ground, and squeezed the wound. The sight and scent of my pain abated the beast and his muscles went lax. Head forward, he curled his upper lip, and then slowly strode toward me. I froze and watched as tiny razor-like teeth stole a taste of crimson. Frightened, I stood to full height to ward off his attempts, but he was undaunted. Clawing at my scrubs and pulling his frail body up my leg, he lashed out at my bleeding arm and screamed his bestial hunger into the air.
            Instinctively I seized him by his head, thumb at his throat and fingers crushing down upon his domed skull. Having recently shed, his skin was delicate and bones feeble. He cried out raucously and squirmed beneath my grasp. The sounds of his despair echoed loudly in my ears, and I was forced to release and watch him scurry into the far corner to mourn his loss of a meal. Staring straight at me, he hissed through clenched teeth and wound his tail between his legs.
            Upon the right wall a panel was unlocked and slid open fast. Large hunks of bloodied meat were tossed onto the floor a few feet from where I stood. The newborn abandoned his fury to focus on the meal presented to him, creeping toward it and tearing off small strips as the panel whooshed shut again.
            For a while, I was content enough to simply watch the young beast devour the carcass, or perhaps it was his hateful threats and screams that kept me in place. Though he boasted no eyes, he continued to gaze banefully in my direction with the fear that I may challenge him for the meat. When I had gathered my senses I stood and dashed to the door. The youngling hissed again as the entrance parted and slammed shut, and then returned to his half-eaten meal.
            The blood had wrought itself over the front of me, and continued to do so as I staggered out of the room. No will left, my shoulder fell against the frigid iron frame of the entryway. An invisible poison coursed through my veins, enveloping the life I felt was fading. Blurred forms of white gathered all around me. Voices I could scarcely hear spoke to me, their words melting together in a puddle of confusion. All at once I dropped; the feeling of arms around me was the last that I knew before I was consumed by the darkness.

 

            "The Firstborn has made quite an impression upon you, I see." Came a voice, at which point I sat up and bent forward, crippled by a spreading pain in my torso. "Don't try and move so quickly. The first cut is the deepest, as they say."
            I smiled and shook my head at the attempted joke, glancing upward and seeing Borro, the lead physician at our research facility. Graying hair on his head and face dulled the brown that was slowly dying away with his age. His eyes were weary, yet no less inviting.
            "Sorry to say, it wasn't the first." I replied, pulling down the top of my loose, crimson-stained garments.
His eyes went wide when he saw the wounds on my chest, and then he exhaled a short laugh. "So it was you who tried to hold the little bastard, eh?"
            "Guilty as charged, but am I really that much at fault? Would you not have done the same?"
            "Grabbed a hostile organism and frightened it into attacking me?" Borro was in disbelief but kept his smile open wide. "I can't say I have the desire to touch or even look at one of those things, much less hold one in my arms."
            He seemed to break off and let his words fall prey to thin air. It was as if he were pondering something deep that he was reluctant to share. Smile now gone, he rested his hands upon the examination table and stared straight into me with weather-beaten eyes.
            "I was averse to the idea, but," and he paused again for a few moments before resuming, "Dmarias stopped by a little while ago when you were still out."
            That was enough. I instantly turned my back to him and embraced my knees against my chest, head down where I could no longer see the light of the room. Borro placed a swollen hand at my back as he moved round the table.
            "I assure you all was fine," he began again, and I could discern in his tone the fact that he was choosing his words cautiously. "He merely asked that you receive further medical attention-psychiatric medical attention."
            My head flew up, face hot with emotion. "What?"
            Borro shrugged fearfully. "It was his idea, not my own. He can make suggestions all he likes, but I have final say in all dealings medical."
            "So? What're you saying to me?"
            Taking his hand off me, he stood upright and exhaled heavily. His weary eyes now seemed so mournful, and he was painfully silent. I feared he would leave me with no answer at all.
            "I may be the lead doctor here," he said, voice breaking the quietness of the air, "but I am no psychiatrist. Your interest in the species is understandable. Even I must admit a deep respect for their prominent strength and intelligence. However, in the interest of your physical well-being, I recommend you keep out of the line of fire. Touching or even coming near a dangerous organism is extremely ill-advised."
            "I would rather be thrown into a pit of thousands of them than sit alone in a room with Dmarias." I replied spitefully.
            Borro laughed, and suddenly life flooded back into his eyes. "I can't blame you for that."
            "So," I began once more, unfurling my body, "I remember hearing the Queen before I passed out. How is she?"
            "Fantastic!" Borro grinned, striding away from me toward a narrow countertop several paces from the examination table, his back now turned. "Our second Soldier took care of her. The eggs should be arriving very soon."
            "That's great." A smile drew itself wide across my face. "I hope this next brood will have a new Queen."
            "It's always a possibility…" his voice tapered off, as if he were allotting time to mull over the probability of such an event. "But, I am not a scientist of that field. I let those men deal with what may come while I focus on my human patients."
            "Are they at all worried about inbreeding? Even if we are blessed with a new Queen, she will have only siblings and cousins to impregnate her."
            Borro turned again, though his eyes remained down upon the tablet in his hands. "This is true. However, I do know for a fact that these remarkable beasts inherit some of the genetic code of their hosts. Take our Firstborn, for example. He walks upon four legs like a dog, and who was his host?"
            My smile diminished a bit, and I also looked downward. "Good old Buster."
            "But if, for example, his host had been you or I or any of the other men and women on staff, our Firstborn would have walked upright. With such distinction, we have no need to worry about inbreeding, but more about whether or not we can gather enough hosts, and a wide variety of them as well."
            I sat in silence for a while, eyes on the floor as I contemplated the possibilities. Both Soldiers and the Queen had gestated within human hosts, yet the Firstborn had experienced a beginning in life from a completely different perspective. The parents and offspring may as well have been in opposite worlds, linked only by their mutual carnivorous desires.
            Several minutes died away before I realized I had been idle for so long. The thought of the Firstborn drove my curiosity toward his current condition, and I was yet unaware of how long the coma had dominated my body.
            "What time is it? How long was I-?"
            "Unconscious? Only a few hours by my watch." Borro replied.
            I took off, panicked and heart pounding within my chest. A few hours lost to darkness were no concern of mine, but by that point I knew the Firstborn would surely have made great changes in his development. As I charged through the bustling hallway I felt all the time missed with him slipping through my fingers and flying off just out of reach. My body all but toppled over as I reached the door to the holding area and flung it open with my weight. The space was unoccupied still, save for the enclosure some meters before me.
            The less than gracious entrance had roused his attention. He rose to full height and stared straight at me through the dense shatterproof glass, his gaze hauntingly divine. A transparent resin dribbled down his short muzzle as he curled back his lips and exposed his prodigious, bladelike fangs. I gravitated toward him; unperceived forces, perhaps under his will or mine, lured me to the edge of his circumscribed domain.
            One wall was all that kept us from reaching out and making contact with the other, and being so near a beast so large, so intelligent, that one heavy wall of iron and concrete seemed no more than a thin strip of paper. I was certain he had attained my scent through the barrier and was filing it away for future reference. Several times he attempted to bust the window by ramming his domed head against it, and with each movement the nearly non-existent light in the room shone off his black body like a beacon. He was the embodiment of space, beads of wetness glistening like stars. The sable silicon surface appeared slick, smooth, and glassy. Every curve and delineation was perfect, like a precious stone forged by the fiery hands of a volcano.
            With a smile I placed my hand upon the window. "Obsidian…"

 

            Every spare hour was spent in his presence, though my unimpeded time continued to dwindle away. Abruptly after discovering the Firstborn had fully matured, I exhausted myself in the extra study and training to become a research assistant. Reluctantly I chose to collaborate with Dmarias as he was the sole overseer of all affairs within the first holding area. So long as it held promise of more time to spend with the creature I very deeply admired, I was determined to accomplish whatever was asked of me.
            Weeks of tedious reading and bookwork paid off when I first received the opportunity to take part in authentic research. I was fitted with a new pair of scrubs to be reserved for my use, and a locker to store them in. Tablet and pen in hand, not a moment was laid to waste in joining Dmarias. I arrived several minutes before him, and a look of astonishment and disgust overshadowed his face when he walked in and caught me there.
            "I don't believe it." His eyes were wide, neck becoming a deep scarlet. A daunting rumble came from within the enclosure, but Dmarias ignored it. "You honestly gave up weeks of your life just to spite me?"
            "I worked hard to get here," I replied sternly, "and I did it because I wanted to work closer with the Xenomorphs. But if all this is putting you down, then it is just an extra perk for me."
            Dmarias gave an abhorrent scowl as he approached. His figure seemed to tower several feet above me, shadow blanketing myself and the chair in which I sat. Both deep blue eyes glared with tenacious hatred. I felt myself falter at the sight of him.
            "Don't expect that this new position gives you free reign." His voice rumbled like thunder in his throat. "The duty of a researching assistant is not to coddle the subject of study, but to assist the researcher he or she is assigned to, and that would be me. Therefore, you are under my control."
            "You could only wish-"
            "I know for a fact! In this room I have dominion, and this can be arranged elsewhere as well."
            The color and heat departed from my face as his body neared mine. Every inch of me began to tremble, unnerved and suspicious. I could see his hand coming for me and feel his fingers tracing a path up my side. There was no conscious thought in me to fight or push away; I was transfixed, frozen beneath his horrid icy gaze.
            Our bodies were locked, but a resonating thump threw us apart and pulled our attention toward the window of the enclosure. There the creature sat staring through a patch of smeared resin on the glass, his lips unfurling as if he were speaking to us. Instantly I wheeled the chair toward him, and he turned his muzzle in my direction and exhibited his fangs to me.
            For the moment, Dmarias was forgotten. I put a still-quivering hand to the window and felt my heart pound when the creature drew near. His mouth gaped, tongue glimmering with saliva. Languidly he pushed it forward, the mouthparts opening wide and curling back inward once they scraped the glass. An impulsive jolt hit-a harsh thrusting down upon my shoulder. Uneasiness wrapped tightly around me. One hand stalked up my back to my opposite side, fingers pressing into the muscle and slithering their way toward my neck and down my chest.
            The creature snarled venomously and recoiled from the window, head tipped back as if he were glaring daggers through us. Dmarias, undeterred, removed one hand from me to flip open a compartment on the adjacent panel. The beast gaped again, flashing his teeth and snarling in warning.
            "Quite the specimen, wouldn't you say?" sneered Dmarias. "Perfect in every way, except his obedience could use some adjusting."
            He touched the panel, and instantly a stream of fire burst from an opening on the left wall of the pen. Wailing painfully, the beast flinched and leapt away from the flame. The scalding limbs of the fire, determined to seize him, reached out and set his body ablaze, enveloping him in a hellish rage and trapping him against the wall. His cries pierced the surrounding air and rattled the glass. Resentfully I flung my arm out and struck Dmarias in his gut and he stumbled backward. Bent at the midriff and clutching his stomach, he fell, wide-eyed, to the floor.
            The flames had ceased, yet the creature continued to squall his pain and indignation. Currents of smoke rose upward, curling off his ebony body and twisting in an elaborate dance that ended in swift dissipation. When at last he had spent himself in lament, he rested upon his uninjured half and breathed; nothing more.
            I watched him in wonder, fearful for his sake and losing all rational thought. No words came to my mind. I could hear Dmarias struggling behind me as he fought for a breath. Not once did I turn myself or peer over my shoulder to face him; my heartache was far too massive to contain. Already my eyes had swelled with the promise of tears. Emotions threatened to overflow, and I viciously clenched my hands into fists to force back the flood.
            "Why would you do that?" I asked, voice trembling.
            Several minutes passed before I received a response. Dmarias groped upward for the countertop, scattering papers and clipboards. Once or twice he coughed to force out the stale air still trapped in his lungs. When at last he had inhaled and gathered his bearings, he stepped in my direction with heavy, foreboding footsteps.
            "You stupid bitch… you still don't get it, do you?" His hand gripped my shoulder and tore me away from the window. Fearfully my eyes met his as he stared down into me. "My word is final! But if you love your pet so dearly and wish to be closer, that can be arranged."
            With one forceful shove he had me against the cell door and a hand near the panel beside it. His fingers threateningly grazed the buttons as my face fell cold. I feared I would slip under again, and fought with the darkness attempting to swallow me. Both arms shuddered at my side and my legs buckled.
            "What the hell is going on in here?"
            Dmarias whirled around, one hand still squeezing my shoulder. The anger in his face vanished, washed away by a look of bewilderment.
            "Garon, I-"
            "No need to explain." Garon interjected. "I know precisely what the problem is. I think you do as well, and I expect you to take care of it."
            Defeated, Dmarias released me and turned toward the one man who had authority over him- Garon, the head of the science and research department. His face was red with embarrassment and guilt. Hastily, he began to pick up the documents he had scattered about earlier.
            "I take it that would be the report." said Garon, grabbing the papers. He flipped through them, brows furrowed. Finding them to be unsatisfactory, he sighed and returned them to Dmarias. "As I thought. Has nothing been accomplished with the subject?"
            "It is intelligent, yet disobedient. I feel it would be of no benefit to the Bio-Weapons Division." Dmarias laid down the papers and shoved them aside, embarrassed at being ill-prepared. "It cannot be trusted; even if it were to take command, I fear it would turn in an instant. This being a social species, it may entice the others to take the same course of action."
            "So then what do you propose be done?"
            "I advise termination, sir. It will be a setback, yes, but a minor one. Our Queen produces rapidly. Losing one Soldier will not hinder us any."
            Garon paused a moment to scratch his chin. His face was molded into a thoughtful frown. "Are you certain nothing can be done?"
            "Weeks, I have tried for weeks. We're losing more money by keeping it around than we would if we were to put it down."
            "This isn't true!" I burst in, surprised at myself for having done so. My face became hot immediately as both men looked in my direction. "I'd like to be allowed the chance to work with the subject."
            "Here now, what's this?" Garon asked, somewhat amused by my audacity. "You're not a scientist, are you?"
            "No, sir. I recently became a researching assistant."
            Garon laughed heartily. "And you chose to study with Dmarias? I applaud your bravery. However, I am afraid I must side with him. If indeed this creature is so disobedient, putting him to work would pose an enormous threat."
            "May I at least have the chance to perform behavioral study?" I stammered, my voice beginning to shake under pressure. "The subject may not be useful as a biological weapon, but I feel we could most certainly learn a great deal about the species through extensive study."
            Garon continued to laugh, though not in a mocking or jesting manner. His portly body trembled with joy and he put a gentle, stout hand upon my right arm.
            "This is a dangerous species, and you are not a qualified scientist," he began with a stern expression, "but if your research can help find a means of curbing the vicious tendencies of these animals, then I will grant you this opportunity."
            "Thank you, sir!" I beamed proudly, ignoring the vengeful glare from Dmarias.
            "Now," Garon said, "I will assign you a partner, of sorts. Just someone to work alongside you and make certain things are safe."
            I opened my mouth to speak out, but he started again. "I understand your interest in the subject. I've seen you coming in and out of here more so than the researchers themselves." He huffed, clearing his throat and glancing over at Dmarias before his gaze returned to me. "Safety is the number one concern."
            "Yes, I understand. Thank you again, sir."
            "No need to thank me!" He chuckled and firmly patted me on the back. "I wish the qualified researchers were this enthusiastic. Perhaps your being here will motivate them a little."
            My smile was stretching from ear to ear, but Dmarias did not share my joy. His astounded face appeared pallid against his midnight hair. There was a fire in his blue eyes, and it burned hotly as he stared down at me in disbelief. I shrugged my shoulders and grinned slyly, and Dmarias seethed.
            "Come now," Garon patted him on the arm, "you may focus your efforts on XM-111."
            I looked up at the mention of the identification number. "Octavius."
            Garon turned and smiled at me, fully understanding the significance of the name. "The eighth-born… clever indeed." He laughed. "Have you given names to every one of them?"
            "No not yet, sir."
            "Well, perhaps that shall be your second task." Garon was beaming wide and Dmarias rolled his eyes, which did not go unnoticed. "Off with you now. XM-111, or shall I say 'Octavius,' is your new subject."
            "If I may, sir, this is absurd." moaned Dmarias. "Is it really necessary to name these beasts? What will it accomplish?"
            He was silent for a while, and then Garon replied, "I happen to like having a name for something rather than just a number. Names are much simpler to recall."
            "Sir, I-"
            "Oh, enough of your complaining! I find you have awful large talk for a man who spent weeks trying to train just one Xenomorph and failed. I ought to suspend you from your duties."
            Dmarias gaped, dumbfounded and lost for words. His eyes were wide, and his expression that of a man who had been shot through the chest. Dismayed silence choked the room in its grasp until we were shaken by a sound emanating from the enclosure behind us. Garon strode toward it and peered inside at the creature who was slowly regaining his composure. I joined him once Dmarias had fled from the room, one hand on the glass as feelings of remorse crept over me again.
            "He appears to be acting quite strange." Garon mused. "Do you suppose he has contracted some sort of illness? He seems lethargic."
            Inhaling deep, I shook my head. "No, Dmarias-…"
            What I wished to explain suddenly left me. Rather than attempt to speak, I pointed to the panel to our left where the brightly lit buttons resided. Once the creature noticed my hand near them he cringed, shrinking back and emitting a malignant hiss.
            Garon frowned. "He disciplined it? How, and what for, if I may?"
            I inhaled again. "With fire and for nothing at all, sir. I swear it to you. He- … that is what began the argument."
            "Indeed. I can see why this creature refuses command, if it is true that Dmarias has been abusive toward it. We cannot expect any promising results if we continue to add fuel to the fire, if you understand what I mean."
            Nodding, I replied, "I do, sir."
            "I'm having second thoughts about assigning him to work with our Octavius." There was a lengthy silence before he smiled reassuringly, patted me on the back, and exited the room. "We shall see."

 

            Day quickly became night, though it was difficult to discern on that horribly dark planet. I kept one small lamp on in the holding area, working beneath its dim yellow glow. An hour or two after the upset, Obsidian (as I so liked to call the creature) was moving about freely again. It seemed to calm him when I shut the panel on the disciplinary action buttons, and I had hoped he would remain near the window close to where I sat, but he did just the opposite.
            After beginning my reading, I was completely immersed. The text swallowed me like a vicious ocean, dragging me beneath the surface and enticing me all the way to the bottom. A large portion of the notes were illegibly written. I deciphered what I could, which was very little but no less interesting. As I plodded along slowly through the research notes, the whoosh of an opening door resonated in the room. I was disinclined to look up, not wanting to abandon my current task.
            Nothing was said; I assumed whoever it was that had entered was awaiting acknowledgement, and I intended to keep them in suspense. After a few uncounted moments, an incisive grunt yanked me back into reality. When I glanced up, my heart nearly leapt from my throat in horror. A lustrous black head was peering through the open doorway, the end of its muzzle curling up rapidly as if it were acquiring a scent from the air. Clear fluid dripped from its mandible to the floor and it spread its jaws apart in anticipation.
            I bolted from my chair, my haste creating a panic that sent the creature back into his pen just before my hand slammed the button to close the door. Immediately I pressed the double lock to ensure the entrance would remain shut, and then I collapsed against the wall with my heart racing wildly. It seemed to echo in the room, and I clamped a hand over my chest as if to muffle the sound. Several times the creature rammed his huge head against the door, and though it jolted me, all efforts were in vain.
            When at last I gathered the courage to stand and look through the window, I was met with the eyeless stare of the beast. He seemed undaunted by his failure, lips turned upward into a humanlike smile. A soft, unthreatening growl exuded from him; he was exceptionally pleased with himself, and he tossed his head side to side slowly in a playful and childlike manner.
            Inhaling deeply, I wagged a warning finger at him. "Never again."

 

            I remained out for several more hours after the incident, walking down the lonely corridor into every holding area to double lock the enclosure doors. If Obsidian had so effortlessly discovered a means of escape, so would his brothers.
            For every new room I entered I received different greetings. Some of the beasts were hesitant, wary and almost fearful of my presence; others were oblivious, either asleep or disinterested. Two or three I recall acting aggressively. They snarled viciously when I approached and lashed their tails about, but their ferocity was unavailing and I moved on.
            The most sociable I found in the sixth holding area. He was weaving his head about when I entered, and once he noticed me there he began to smile (or what one could perceive to be smiling). Something seemed smug about his expression, his lips curled back over his scintillating teeth as he paced in front of the observation window. I stood with a hand on the glass and watched him approach, waving to him when I thought he was looking, though I was unsure if he could even see me at all.
            Something had sparked his interest nonetheless; he leapt up against the glass, forelimbs upon it as resin smeared and dripped down the pane. He craned his neck, that priceless smile never fading. His chest was expanding rapidly as he breathed; I assumed he was either restless or elated.
            Upon closer scrutiny of his form, I noticed a curiously shaped spot on his midsection-a malformation on his angular chest that appeared a slightly lighter shade than the rest of him. It so perfectly resembled a precious gem that one could have sworn God Himself had handpicked a diamond and placed it upon the thorax of that magnificent, exuberant creature.
            "Diamond… it doesn't seem as though anyone who has seen you could ever forget you." I smiled, and he flashed his teeth again in response.
            Sliding off the window and leaving behind an enormous smear of his secretions, he immediately headed for the door of his pen and turned back to me with the expectation that I would follow through with what he had in mind. All I could do was shake my head in reply.
            "I don't think so. You seem so harmless now, but who's to say you wouldn't walk all over me once I do you this favor?"
            As if he could hear and comprehend every word that leaked from my mouth, he put his head to the glass again and ran it back and forth in a nuzzling sort of motion. My heart wanted to leap in there and take him into my arms as the companion I had always been searching for, yet there was still that smarter half of me advising against it. I returned to the viewing window and stared through at him. He seemed to be growing impatient, for he gaped his jaws in a more threatening manner.
            "You aren't so different from us." I said. "You're just like the men I used to know, the friends I used to have. Whenever it's time for you to get help, suddenly I am your only hope, that one person you worship and adore; but what about when I need something?"
            I fought hard to keep past thoughts and feelings buried in the back of my mind, though a few renegade tears found freedom. The beast seemed to misunderstand me, or perhaps was apathetic altogether. He waggled his head back and forth out of boredom, and so I left him there alone. This, however, did not sit well with him.
            The very second the door slid shut behind me he began to bellow grievously. His sounds carried far and I feared he would alert the staff to me; it was after-hours, and all (save those with cleanup duties) were meant to be in their quarters. My heart began to race with panic as the thundering roars chased me down the hall. A fearful blindness consumed both eyes. I had not the nerve to open them until I struck something and felt a strong grip on my arms, shaking me into reality and preventing my escape.
            A heavy sweat dripped down my face as I screamed, "No! I didn't-!"
            "Shut your mouth!" Rumbled a horrifying voice, and I glanced upward just as my body was thrown against the wall and held there. Two deep, violent oceans stared straight through me and I choked, inhaling a shallow breath.
            "Dmarias! I didn't… I was locking up!"
            "Spiting me again?" he growled. "Things are fucked up enough. I don't need you in my way."
            "In your way?" I stopped, and things grew silent. He released me and stood upright, immediately averting his eyes. "What do you mean? No one is supposed to be out at this time."
            "Which is exactly why you should be going, unless you wish to lose your new position and end up on a list of possible hosts for the embryos-a list that I have final say in." He remarked with a wicked smile.
            "Since when? I know for a fact that isn't part of your assignment."
            "It would seem I've been reassigned." He said, and again there was a long silence. His frigid gaze returned to me, one hand pressing against my throat. "Don't think I am not aware of your chat with Garon. I've broken my back to get this far, to have the status I attained and to get the pay I worked so damn hard for. No low-life bitch playing scientist is going to fuck that up for me!"
            Aghast, I feared my heart had stopped for I could no longer feel it pounding inside my chest. Beads of perspiration rolled down my cold skin as I shuddered and stared at his hand wandering my body.
            "I suggest you keep your mouth closed," he continued, "because saying the wrong thing could prove fatal for you."
            I clapped a hand to my chest to search for a pulse, receiving it only in weak, terror-stricken throbs behind my ribs. The hard expression Dmarias wore unexpectedly melted away, and very gently he placed a hand just below my neck.
            "Being the kind, forgiving soul that I am," he began, "I am willing to forget today's incident if you were to do a small favor for me."
            A grin curled up one end of his mouth as he slid his hand down over my breasts and let his hips come to mine. In disgust I pushed him away, causing him to stumble back several feet.
            "Keep dreaming." Tears flooded my eyes as I turned my head.
            "Then may we meet in Hell."
            He walked off and was around the corner by the time I looked up. A lonely tear drew a thin river down my face and fell to the floor in silence (the exuberant Xenomorph had given up trying to entice me back to his holding area by this time). I felt safer knowing a double lock had been placed on all the enclosure doors, yet fear continued to fester in my stomach. There was a strange obligation to follow Dmarias. I snuck through the corridor he had taken, but there was no sight of him.
            The further I walked in the same direction, the closer I came to my living quarters. To my most unpleasant surprise, I found the port was left slightly ajar, and a horrific suspicion overtook me. Lacking even the slightest shred of reason, I fled in the opposite direction only to pass an open door several meters down from where I had stood.
            A dim glow reposed upon the floor, giving a passive welcome to all who saw it there. Past the doorway lay yet another corridor that ended abruptly in darkness. Heavy amounts of heat emanated from the entrance and caressed my skin in seductive fashion. Cautiously I moved forward, inspecting the area around me to be certain that I was alone. Whatever reason the door had been left open was revealed when I heard it whoosh shut behind me.
            Through the tiny rectangular window Dmarias' face glared with a triumphant and malicious glow. He smiled broadly in spite of my shouting and pounding upon the metal. Once he was certain the door was locked tight, he strode away as if nothing at all were amiss. Hopelessly I tried the multicolored buttons on the adjacent panel, only to be met with the caustic ringing of an error tone. My voice died away into the darkness each time I screamed, and after I had gone quiet, I could hear a languid panting that crept out of the shadows.
            I froze and my heart stopped cold. Every second the sound drew nearer to me, coaxing me into the abyss. Smooth tile floor was obliterated by an impenetrable sable sea warm and moist to the touch. It lay in furrowed patterns that stretched out their countless limbs up and across the walls, spanning the corridor and the wide open room just beyond it.
            Darkness swallowed everything in its path. At several points on the ceiling it extended downward to join a glistening black mass that shifted in perfect synchronization with the noise it made. It was breathing, it was alive, and I stopped dead several feet before it and let my eyes roam the tangled maze of glossy appendages streaming out in every direction. An appalling realization struck me and I shuddered hard, feet glued to the floor.
            The front end of the ebony coagulation unfolded, the narrow muzzle of the beast sliding into view. Its lips drew back, dagger-like teeth flashing as its mouth opened wide and exhaled a bloodcurdling hiss. An enormous crested head sank toward me, the jaws drawing nearer with the promise of a death only seconds away. Again it hissed, and I felt its humid breath bathing my flesh in that vile stench of blood. Both legs fell weak, flaccid and threatening to buckle in the presence of the Queen.
            I stepped backward and tripped over a trench in the hive structure, the movement setting off her Majesty. She snarled viciously in warning, but made no advances. Her body was held tight to the ceiling by the hardened resin limbs clinging to her sides and swollen egg sac. Out the corner of my eyes I could see it, bulging and undulating from one end to the other, and could hear it exuding a thick, visceral gurgle.
            As if she knew I was eyeing her unborn brood, the Queen screamed and snapped her jaws, forcing me against the wall and out of her reach. Her forbidding hisses quickly turned to apocalyptic roars that shook the room around us. In desperation she began to fight with the projections that kept her a prisoner of the hive and her maternal duties. Seething, she whipped her ponderous head about and shrieked in frustration.
            Across the room a door slid open and the Queen turned abruptly. My heart leapt upward in surprise. I had the sudden inclination to dash across the room and escape, and then a gleaming black head peered through the entryway, mandible dripping wet. Slowly the figure stalked into the presence of her Majesty, but she was less than pleased with the unexpected visitor.
            Indifferent to the vulgar welcome, the sleek form of the Soldier melted into the steamy air of the hive, his body camouflaged against its corrugated surface. For the moment my existence went unnoticed. The robust male worked his way around his mate, acquiring the scent from her and brushing against her sides with elation, but the Queen had no interest in his sexual advances. She whirled her head around and gave a vicious snap of her jaws to ward him off. He recoiled instantly, and once he came to the realization that mating was not a current option, he directed his attention to my trembling form huddled against the wall.
            His jaws gaped wide and he snarled with a feral hunger deep inside his gut. Advancing precariously across the trenches, his almost invisible form shone dimly in the darkness as he rolled his lithe shoulders forward and curled his jagged tail up and around in devilish patterns. The muscles in my back froze, legs and arms taut and heart beating a frantic dirge. I watched him rise to full height, more than double my own. Much as I wished to make a dash for the door, I knew it would only delay the inevitable and excite his prey drive. Instead, I kept still and hoped he would decide his belly was full enough for the time being; but the nearer he came, the more excitement I sensed in his body language. Warm resin poured down his face and soaked my scrubs, cementing them to the hive structure beneath us.
            The Queen continued to squall all the while, struggling as if some unseen plague was bearing down upon her. Soft wet noises were heard across the room and her screaming intensified. Abandoning the easy meal before him, the Soldier whipped around and growled at the sight of a freshly spawned egg glistening beneath the tumid sac of the Queen.
Limbs tensed aggressively, he approached it as his mate bellowed in dismay. Several moments passed in which nothing was said; even I found I had been caught up in the drama. There came a mournful whimper from the Queen, which swiftly turned to vengeful snarls the moment the irate Soldier split open the egg in rage.
            I was transfixed at the sight, the viscous fluids and shredded body of the underdeveloped Facehugger spilling out across the floor. Thin daggers flashed in the shadows as both creatures bared their teeth. The Queen swung her colossal crested head and the Soldier leapt aside, springing upward and tearing a hole in the egg sac with his claws. Torrents of amniotic fluid spewed from the wound, drenching the infuriated beast as he continued to rip the bulging mass suspended above his head. Several painful snaps echoed in the room and I shuddered as adrenaline surged up my spine and throughout my veins.
            Despairingly, the ireful mother split the limbs of the hive holding her to the ceiling. Her weighty body plummeted to the floor, the awkward crest pulling her down at each attempt to stand. Violently her mate hissed and watched with malicious satisfaction as the busted egg sac collapsed and broke away from its creator. The triumphant Soldier now was free to reclaim his stolen territory.
            No time was wasted in mounting the temporarily immobilized Queen. Her exasperated screams ebbed, and eventually died away. Only their sexual efforts could be heard, and I used the moment to steal away in the darkness. I fled across the room unnoticed, locking myself in the pen of the liberated Soldier. The resonant sounds of his feral rape of the Queen penetrated the thick wall between us and sent a chill inside me. I activated the panel across the enclosure to free myself through the second door.
            The port of the observation room slid open abruptly after. Several men in white scrubs filed in, standing transfixed at the sight of me there. Their worried expressions fell to dismay. Hastily Garon shoved his way inside, frozen to a halt as well when he caught me with my back against the wall and my body trembling furiously.
            "What-…" Garon stammered, dumbfounded and red-faced.
            Tears cascaded down my cheeks without restraint. All the heat was abandoning my body, and I feared my consciousness would shortly follow.
            "Please, sir. Please, I didn't-…" was all the terror allowed out of my mouth. The rest drifted away, lost in the anxiety. My legs gave out beneath me and my body dropped, darkness enveloping me before I met the floor.
            I recall a blinding light fiercely welcoming me back into consciousness. It glared at me like a not-so-distant star unimpeded by clouds and debris, and I shielded my eyes from it until I felt the presence of a shadow. My arm shot up as I attempted to fight off the force looming over me. Something snatched my wrist and held it tight, a calming voice pleading with me to cease.
            The edge of the table drove itself into my side and I succumbed to the pain, lying half over the rim with my head toward the floor. Slowly, my wrist was released and I was guided upright.
            "Just relax; the shock has not yet worn off."
            Abruptly I looked up into a familiar face. "Borro! What am I-?"
            "You're in the med lab once again." He answered with a small smile. "You caused quite an ordeal last night, though if you want my opinion, none were more frightened and distraught than yourself. You fought us all the way in here. We had to put you out."
            "I don't remember…" my voice broke away, all words lost to the fear and surprise.
            "I don't expect you to. What's important is that you're unhurt, but would you mind explaining just what force in Hell convinced you to go into the Queen's chamber? Or, is this something I may not want to know?"
            Tears were flooding my eyes before he could finish. My only desire then was to curl up and fade away to nothing. I shook my head and replied, "Please, I didn't go in there by choice. I was trapped."
            A look of confusion overtook Borro, as if he were internally debating whether or not to believe what I said. "Well, someone had to open the door."
            "Dmarias! It was Dmarias."
            His face turned to stone and he straightened his back with a stern glare. "Now how is that so? He was nowhere near the site when you were found there."
            "Because he left!" I shouted indignantly, seeing his expression drop. "I saw the door was open, so I went inside to see who was there. Once I was in he locked the door on me."
            Borro shook his head. "I'll admit Dmarias is an unpleasant son of a bitch, but I don't deem him capable of leading someone to such a horrific fate."
            "Well he did! He locked me in there with the Queen and then released a Soldier."
            Still finding difficulty in believing my story, Borro turned back to his papers for a moment and kept quiet. Nervously he jotted something down, and then his gaze returned to mine.
            "If all this is true," he started warily, "how do you explain the mess in there-the ruptured egg sac and all?"
            "It was the Soldier." I said, feeling my heart sink when I read the skepticism in his face. "I swear it! You know how much I love this species. Why would I destroy the eggs? Do you think if I had that I would be here now?"
            He paused and looked away shamefully. "I suppose not; the Queen would've had your ass for it. However, I do know that you love these beasts enough to put yourself in such a situation."
            "Borro, no! Please, you have to understand. I admire them, yes, but I'm not crazed to the point of walking in on a Queen! That's insane!"
            "That's exactly what Dmarias and the rest of the staff believes you are."
            "Dmarias can fuck off in Hell."
            "None of that now!" Borro scolded, though his face immediately softened when he glanced over at me. "I'll tell them that I don't deem it necessary for you to receive psychological help; however, in such a situation, they may decide otherwise. For your sake, I hope your story is convincing."

 

           It took the Council only a few hours to gather. By the time all was ready to begin, it was but a short while from sunrise. All the top researchers, scientists, and the head of the facility were present-a list that included Dmarias. I could see the smug expression he wore as he sat several chairs down from where I was positioned. His eyes periodically caught mine in their spiteful grasp, forcing the fear of Hell in me. Bits of perspiration dotted my forehead, though I attempted to remain at ease with the present situation.
           At the opposite end of the table a stern looking man seated himself. His hair was receding, though it still clung tenaciously to its vibrant color, and upon his face grew a finely trimmed mustache that seemed to give him a more superior appearance. I assumed it was spared from the razor for that reason only as it looked rather foolish otherwise.
Garon sat to the left of this man, his eyes shameful and too afraid to look upon me. It pained my heart the most at that moment to think that the friendship he and I had begun may have already been destroyed. I felt tears coming to my eyes once more, and internally I prayed that my account would prove credible by their standards.
           Once all attendants were seated, the pompous man at the head of the narrow table began to speak. His voice commanded respect, for it was fairly deep, yet all the same it sounded as though he were trying to talk through a mouth partially filled with water.
           "If all are present," he began, "we shall then begin the hearing of-…"
           Garon cleared his throat and picked up where his superior had left off. "Larkin. Galena Larkin, Mr. Rockland."
           "Indeed," the facility president replied, though he seemed apathetic to the entire situation, or was at least wary of me. "Miss Larkin, reports indicate that you were found, am I to understand, inside the chamber of our Queen?"
           "We found her in the observation room of our first Soldier, sir." Garon interjected again.
           Rockland nodded impatiently, still looking at me for an answer. I knew I must oblige him with one, and did so while straining to keep my eyes averted from Dmarias.
           "I will tell you my full story, if you care to know."
           "Certainly."
           As always was a nervous habit of mine, I took to rubbing my left upper arm and glancing away from the man to whom I was speaking. When he requested that I maintain eye contact, I felt myself falter yet again, and it was several moments before I was able to keep the tears at bay.
           "I was up late reviewing some research notes. Garon allowed for me to perform behavioral study on the subject in Holding Area One, which is where I spend most of my time as you may know. As I sat there-…" I broke off. The memory seemed to escape me, though it was sitting right there at the edge of my lips and waiting to take flight.
Rockland nodded his wide head. "Go on."
           "As I sat there, I heard a door open. I assumed it to be a member of the staff, and so I did not look up at that moment. When I finally did, I saw the subject partway out of his enclosure. Somehow he had figured out that the panel inside his pen would open the door."
           "Ridiculous!" Scoffed Dmarias with a wry expression.
           "No one here shall speak unless spoken to." Rockland abruptly stated, and then gestured for me to continue.
           I shot Dmarias a hateful glare before I went on. "I panicked when I saw this, and I immediately went to shut the door. I frightened him back into the pen, probably in my haste, and after I shut the door I activated the double lock to prevent him from escaping again."
           "Miss Larkin, how is it you came to the assumption that the creature 'figured out' how to open the door? Could it not have hit the panel by mistake?" Rockland questioned with his brows furrowed in thought.
           "No, the subject is a quadruped, which as you probably know is much shorter than the bipedal breed of Xenomorph. He would have to physically jump up and touch the panel to open the door, sir."
           Rockland nodded again, though I did not feel he believed me entirely.
           "So after that was done, I went through the hall to double lock all the doors on the pens. I assumed it was for the best, and anyway it could do no harm. After finishing that, I found Dmarias in the hall."
           Instantly I felt his eyes on me, though I did not dare look in his direction. It was as if a vengeful predator were staring me down and waiting for the perfect chance to strike and tear away my throat. I was shuddering fearfully, but Rockland seemed only interested in my story and he pressed me for more.
           "I spoke with him," I began again, cautious about my words, "and then he left. I was heading back to my quarters, which were in the same direction that he took, and on my way I noticed an open door. I thought it was rather strange that anything should have been left open, so I went in to see what had happened only to have the door shut and locked on me."
           "And by who, might I ask?" Rockland questioned.
           Another long pause prevailed. The drum within my chest beat so violently I feared it would burst straight through me as would the ravenous fetus of the Xenomorph. Clutching myself between my breasts, my head sank and I replied, "Dmarias."
           All eyes were upon him then, and his eyes remained on me. I never once looked, but I could feel the weight of them pressing me to the floor nearer the gruesome fate he so wished for me. The hum of several men conversing privately to each other filled the room, though Rockland swiftly quieted them.
           "You're certain it was Dmarias?" he asked as he shifted in his chair.
           "I saw him through the window."
           A pause, and then he allowed me to continue.
           "Having no other way out, I went forward into the Queen's chamber. Not long after, the larger of the two Soldiers was released into the room. I'm not quite sure if it were by Dmarias, or if he had found a means of opening his pen as well. Regardless, the Soldier paid me little attention. He seemed more interested in mating with the Queen."
           "Quite a tale," Rockland interrupted, mulling over what I had said. Beside him, Garon was restless, continuously fidgeting in his seat and glancing back and forth between the president and me. "What of this then?"
           "The Queen wasn't interested. I don't remember her doing much more than screaming. She was very angry, and she became anxious when she deposited another egg. The Soldier immediately destroyed it, and then began to destroy the egg sac. The Queen came down from the ceiling, but she was too weak to stand. As I ran out through the Soldier's pen, he started to mate with her. That's all I remember before Garon and some other staff came in, and I blacked out."
           Rockland gazed around the room as the other men at the table took to their muffled chattering again. He, Garon, and Dmarias were the only ones that remained silent, and I could almost feel the apprehension running through the man who so hated me-the fear that he may fall with me in this matter. Before too long, the president hushed all presently speaking, and then turned to Garon and the other leaders of the science staff.
           "Can anyone else attest to her claims?" Asked Rockland, leaving the floor open to any who may possess pertinent information. There was a heavy silence that followed, and so he asked, "Is there any knowledge of Dmarias being out after curfew? What of Miss Larkin's wild allegations of the Soldier destroying his own?"
           Garon coughed to rid his throat of his obvious uncertainty before standing up. "I had assigned Dmarias to stay out late, having recently given him a new assignment."
           "I was not made aware of this. Would you mind sharing your reason in assigning our top researcher to another project?"
           "I did not feel him qualified to work so closely with the Xenomorphs. I felt his methods destructive to our purpose."
           "How so?" Rockland asked with no delay between the words they exchanged, both eyes staring straight into Garon.
           "I found him in the first holding area, where he was originally assigned, behaving inappropriately with Miss Larkin."
           "Define inappropriate." Demanded Rockland, receiving a round of subdued laughter from the men seated at the table.
           "Aggressively, sir. I know for certain Mr. Dmarias has anger management problems. It is so stated in his records." At this, Garon paused to glance toward Dmarias, who was nervously keeping his eyes hidden. "After a talk with Miss Larkin, I found that their quarrel had begun over a disagreement in disciplining the subject. Larkin-if I may?"
           I nodded at him, allowing him to refer to me by my last name without any formality.
           "Larkin claims punishment was given to the subject without reason while Dmarias insists he had reason."
           "And who do you find knows best in this matter?" Rockland was now staring at me, though I was not the one to whom he was speaking.
           "Knowing Dmarias and his tendency to react violently in times of anger, and having seen how the subject behaves in his presence, I am inclined to side with Larkin."
           Rockland only nodded and shifted his attention back to Garon. "Very well. I will not argue with you further on this. Now, what of the case of the Soldier and Queen?"
           "Simple biological fact." Stated a tall, lank man standing up from his seat only a few feet down from me. His face was oblong with a distinguished nose to hold up his glasses. Atop his head was a small mass of ruddy hair that accentuated his freckles and bold blue eyes. He was smiling at me as he continued, "the Soldier released was the first of our two, the largest. He was given a chance to mate with the Queen, and then our second Soldier was allowed a turn. The brood from her second mating was still present at the time of this recent incident. Our big Soldier must have sensed somehow-either through scent or perhaps the reaction of the Queen, or both-that the egg and those still in production were not of him. It is a well-known fact that males will destroy any young that they have not fathered. Even in humans this is evident, as the man regards his adopted or stepchild with silent contempt. Furthermore, destroying the egg and egg sac would have forced the Queen into becoming receptive again, and did you not say, Miss Larkin, that the Soldier showed signs of desiring to have a go at her?"
           Weakly I smiled, admiring the manner in which this man conducted himself. "I did say that."
           "Then there you have it, sir." The thin man said as he turned to see the thoughtful expression Rockland wore.
           Silence was killing slowly, making every moment excruciating. All eyes were upon me as though my frantic heartbeat were causing a disturbance that those at the table wished to assess. The friendly smile of the redhead was my only source of hope, the one thing that kept me from plunging into panic and despair. My palms were dripping wet and shaking violently.
           Turning and causing his chair to creak, Rockland lurched forward over the table and folded his hands. Stealing a few seconds of my sanity before answering, he finally said, "It would seem there is sufficient evidence to shift things in your favor. However, this is not enough to clear you of all charges. To be certain there is no recurrence of these events, an escort will be assigned to Miss Larkin. She will not be permitted to go anywhere without one. As for Mr. Dmarias: one month probation."
           Muffled whispers spread throughout the room as the men turned to each other and exchanged words and uneasy glances. Dmarias had gone pale, no longer staring at me but at the wall. For a moment I observed his listless expression, noticing Garon stand from the table wearily and wipe the moisture from his brow. A hand came to my shoulder and I jumped, gazing upward into the ocean-blue eyes of the redhead who had so valiantly defended my case. Tension eased off and I smiled gratefully.
           "It's all right," he started, "I knew you weren't to blame. Lately the Soldiers have been restless, most especially our largest. I'm well aware of the fact that he would've destroyed the Queen's brood had he been given the chance. I fear we've made a grave mistake."
           "Mistake?" I asked.
           The redhead nodded, pushing up the frame of his eyeglasses. "Yes; the others will not hear of it, not even Garon, but keeping the Xenomorphs separated in such a fashion is completely contrary to how they are meant to live."
           Leading me from the room with his hand upon my shoulder blade, we strode down the hall side-by-side as he continued.
           "These are social creatures, much like us I suppose. They are designed to live in large colonies consisting of several different rungs on the social ladder, if you follow me. At the bottom are the working beasts, the Drones, above them the Soldiers, who would fight off intrusion and compete with each other for mating rights, and then of course, at the top, is the Queen herself."
           Continuing with his lecture, he showed me into his quarters, which seemed more a storage room for antiques from the days of Earth than a place to sleep. His bed was hidden beneath dirty laundry. Against one wall stood a small piece of wooden furniture carrying an ancient, cumbersome monitor. Immediately I strode toward it, endlessly interested in such artifacts. There were two enormous knobs embedded into the object beside its screen, and atop it was a gathering of VHS cassettes-from what I could tell, the lot of them were science fiction films from the 1950's. I picked up one of the sleeves, its front depicting a comically morbid scene of people fleeing in terror from enormous insects.
           Sensing my interest in his collection, the redhead again tapped my shoulder and called me over to an object he had displayed on his dresser. I peered into it, an elaborate maze of tiny tunnels and industrious bodies moving through them staring straight back at me.
           "An ant farm," I said smiling. "I didn't realize any still existed."
           "Oh, of course, but I had to get the ants from Earth."
           "Really? What did you find there?"
           "Nothing." He said somberly. "It's all a wasteland; junk. The other creatures seem to be doing all right for themselves, though, most especially the insects. I was tempted to keep a few cockroaches, as they seemed to be in abundance there, but I thought better of the idea."
           I had to laugh at this. "Perhaps you should have. They could have ruled two worlds then."
           "Those bastards could live anywhere. I still remain completely convinced that even after our old Sun fades out, the cockroaches will still have reign over the Earth."
           "Most likely, and that would make them the kings and queens of our home planet… we're not quite as big as we'd like to think we are."
           "Indeed we're not. The Xenomorphs have quickly proven that."
           Again I smiled, still focused on the ants within their plastic container. They toiled away as if everything in their tiny domain was all the universe was composed of. Some pushed aside dirt to make new tunnels; others gathered the pieces of sugar left near the entrance to their home, and the rest tended to their queen and her engorged egg sac. For a brief moment I felt as though I were deep inside their kingdom and comparable in size to them, but the voice of the scientist beside me stole me back into reality.
           "Amazing, aren't they?" He asked, staring at the miniature beasts that persisted in their duty and paid him no mind. "Just one ant alone could do the work that would require the power of well over fifteen men. If we had the strength of an ant, you and I could lift an EEV and carry it for miles."
           "We ought to respect them," I said. "We could easily destroy that entire colony, but what if the tables were to turn?"
           The redhead laughed jovially. "They already have! Though they themselves are not insects, there is no doubt in my mind that the Xenomorphs we keep here are simply waiting for the chance to break free and exact their revenge."
           "This is precisely why I choose to remain on their good side."
           "If indeed they possess such a thing. Of course, I have always believed them to be a pure species. They have no ignoble or angelic qualities; they simply exist, acting only with the desire to survive. What to us appears to be malice and horrific bloodshed is merely their means of capturing prey, or securing a host for their offspring. Even the great and noble lion appears a brutish murderer when bringing down the zebra, yet he would never have to kill if he had other means of survival."
           As he spoke, I realized the intense interest in the species was mutual between us. Though scientists-and ones of different ranks-the desire to seek dominion over all creation was nonexistent. He seemed to have already resigned himself to the fact that the beasts would soon escape their confines and seek him out as a meal or a host, and he was almost willing to lose himself to such a cause. I admit I could not share such a feeling, for fear still had its icy hands about my body, but I nodded in agreement with his last statement and turned from the ant farm on the dresser.
           "Please forgive my rudeness," the redhead began again. "I am Fero, William Fero. I am quite familiar with your name, Miss Larkin."
           "So it seems." I replied with a dry and insincere smile.
           A short silence pervaded the air before Fero asked, "Will you be continuing your work with your subject?"
           "If I am permitted to do so. What if I am to be reassigned?"
           "Doubtful. Low-rank researchers have such menial tasks, it would be meaningless to assign a new task… oh, forgive me. I meant no offense in my remark."
           "It's fine. As I see it, if I had wanted a position as great as yours, I would have begun working toward it long ago. Had I known of the Xenomorphs then, I assure you I would have exhausted myself to attain Garon's position, so long as it meant coming closer to them."
           "Behavioral study is closer than most of us would choose to come to them." Fero said, and was silent again for a long while. He persisted in fiddling with his glasses, and then with his hair. His tall, lanky body appeared almost inhuman, but his kindly face, blotted with countless freckles, was benevolent and sincere and dashed all feelings of uncertainty.
           "Never for a moment believe your work is not important." He started once more. "The data you obtain from your studies will help all scientists, including myself, perform our tasks with greater ease and efficiency. The dedication you have in your duties will give us the courage to perform our own."
           I thanked him, and reached for his hand as it was offered when a knock came upon the door. It was silent and polite, quite contrary to the appearance of the man standing in the entryway when it opened. He was monstrously tall, but with handsome features. A bulky uniform hid what was obviously a well-kept muscular build. His dark skin starkly contrasted his bright eyes. Stepping into the room, he dipped his head to avoid crashing into the metal frame of the door, a stout rifle cuddled against his chest.
           "Larkin?" He asked, smiling at me with an almost bashful expression. "Damian Maddoc. I've been assigned as your escort, but I can't figure out why. You don't seem the type to cause trouble."
           Returning his polite gesture, I took his hand in greeting and shook it. "And you don't seem the type to be so kind. A tall, strongly-built person such as yourself would be more aggressive, or so I would imagine him to be."
           Maddoc merely shrugged his shoulders with a grin. "I'm just big for my age, that's all. So, you ready?"
           I started toward the door with him when Fero halted our progress. Pushing his glasses up along the narrow bridge of his nose, he took my hand and held it gratefully, bent at the waist so he could meet me eye-to-eye.
           "Much luck in your studies. I shall meet with you later when I can find some time to do so."
           "My thanks to you."

 

           The days passed with unseen swiftness, and weeks seemed to run together. Maddoc, loyal to his assignment, remained beside me at every moment, save for my hours spent in the holding area. Rather than join me there, he propped himself against the door just outside, finding the monotony of the hallway a larger comfort than a confined space just meters away from the specimen.
           "I ain't going in there," he would say to me. "That thing'll bite my ass."
           This was all just as well in my case, for it allowed me lengthier periods of quality time with my subject. A few days after my behavioral research had begun, and already he was acknowledging my presence with habitual gestures. When I entered, he would lift his head to the window and part his jaws, allowing his tongue to slip halfway out. I mimicked this action, but was met with his usual mood of indifference and so abandoned the idea of communicating in such a manner.
           His reaction to sound was remarkable. A few hours he was sedated so that the technicians could install speakers in all four corners of his pen. As the effect of the drugs wore off, he awoke to the sound of my voice, leaping to his feet groggily and weaving about to gather his bearings. This incited my laughter, which in turn enhanced his confusion. Several minutes saw him puzzled by the strange phenomenon, climbing over the walls and ceiling in search of the source of that curious noise, and I was ever attentive.
           To begin with, I spoke only the name I had given him, hoping I might familiarize him with its sound so that he may, in the future, answer to it. As he circled the room, scrutinizing every detail with the hope of solving his mystery, he would periodically glance back at me as would a dog seeking guidance from his human companion in the search for a lost toy. Only when he had abandoned the task did he come to realize the noisemaker was me.
           I spoke my words slowly, and he caught the movement in my lips. On his gaunt haunches he sat, watching and waiting for me to speak again. Mere seconds was all he needed to put two and two together, and his excitement was insurmountable. Wildly he began to pound his elongated head against the window and scrape it with his claws, and thankfully the glass remained unrelenting. In his frustration he began to wail, his cries breaking through the (supposedly) soundproof barrier. I tried to match his tone, exhaling into the microphone until our volumes shook the walls. When at last our breath had run short I smiled, turning to find a herd of men at the door staring, dumbstruck and bewildered, in at us. Maddoc held his gun tightly against his chest with both eyes wide as moons.
           "Oh my God, she's teaching the damn alien to sing." He said, silent for a moment before shaking his head and returning to his post in the hallway. "I need a new job."
           A low murmur followed as the inquisitive strode from the room and returned to the dullness of their usual routines. The heat of embarrassment had flared up in my face. I stared at the floor several minutes before I regained the courage to look the rest of the world straight in the eye, and Obsidian was still waiting.
           A passive expression dominated his face as far as I was able to decipher, for his behaviors and gestures were still alien to me. His lips were closed, teeth hidden from view, so I assumed him to be at ease. When he caught me glancing at him, he thumped the glass again with his head until I spoke.
           "Hey. What're you doing?"
           Silence settled in. He seemed pleased just to hear me, as if knowing he was not completely secluded from the outside influences of life was a comforting fact. A few moments passed before he realized I had no intention of continuing, and again he thumped the glass.
           "Obsidian! Stop it, you."
           His lips curled up and his jaws parted, teeth flashing briefly in an almost humanlike smile, but his grin was short-lived. He wasted no time in slamming the window to force more out of me.
           "You're going to give yourself a concussion." I said with a laugh. "I suggest you stop before this occurs."
           My words went unheard, or at least my warning was ignored. Three more times he pounded the glass, producing that ominous grin he so proudly wore, as if it were a priceless material none but he could have. Much as I would have enjoyed fulfilling his request, a one-sided conversation was not even a bowl half full, and there were always watchful eyes and intently listening ears all around. The researchers and company officials already thought me a borderland dweller. I need not give them reason to confirm their beliefs.
           Rising from my seat at the console, I peered out the doorway, giving a tap on the arm to Maddoc that made him jump in surprise. Fretfully he clutched his gun, relaxing it when he noticed my smaller frame next to his.
           "You scared the hell outta me." He said with a sigh.
           "I must return to my room. The subject is reacting well to my voice; I'd like to test him with other sounds."
           Maddoc nodded with a suspicious glance back at the room. As we started down the hall, painful wailing burst from the holding area, and again Maddoc leapt with fear. His face became pallid as he prepped his rifle.
           "Damn, that thing is vicious."
           "He's not. He's become attention-starved."
           Maddoc frowned. "What? That thing don't want attention. He just wants to tear your ass apart. When you walk in there, he's not thinking, 'oh boy, someone to play with.' He's thinking, 'mmm, there's dinner.' You know it."
           I laughed, and then was followed by silence. The droning sound of the hall thrust its way inside my head, drilling a hole through my skull with the hope of infesting my mind with unending boredom. I resumed conversation to kill the awkward mood.
           "Where is it you come from?"
           "Teroidt; it's a big drifter colony one galaxy over."
           "Where the Narrus turf wars are concentrated?"
           Maddoc nodded as we entered my quarters, and immediately he halted at the entryway as if he were too bashful to enter without invitation. "I miss it, though. My family's still there, my parents and my brothers and sisters."
           "They must be proud of you to have found good work out here." I said, pulling from my shelf a cumbersome and outdated piece of technology that Maddoc immediately relieved me of.
           "Yeah, but it's sad. I don't get to talk to them much. Last time we talked was maybe three years ago… I don't even know if they're alive."
           His face dropped, eyes beginning to water. I assumed it best to leave the conversation at that and kept my gaze away, touching the side of his arm reassuringly. Fear of saying the wrong words kept me quiet, and the walk down the hallway seemed so much longer when done in silence.
           At the door of the holding area Maddoc halted. The creature inside was still putting up a fuss, howling and bellowing, demanding that we heed his calls, and it frightened Maddoc out of coming within ten feet of the entryway.
           "He'll stop once we are inside." I said.
           "Yeah, because he's hungry, and I know he's gonna come after me. A hungry alien ain't gonna fool with you; you're like one of them little parfaits at McDonald's. I'm the Big Mac to him." And then his face softened and his smiled. "Man, I want McDonald's now."
           "I'm surprised there isn't one here already."
           "Oh, there will be. McDonald's is everywhere."
           Growing rather impatient, I put my arms about the device he had been carrying for me, and instantly he pulled it away. "I can carry it," he said, and so I was obligated to allow him this. Touching the panel on the wall, the door slid open and I stepped inside, turning and smiling at him as I awaited his entrance.
           Obsidian abruptly ceased bawling, though his presence alone was enough to unnerve my escort. Cautiously Maddoc dipped low to avoid collision with the doorframe, his eyes never leaving the caged beast that was staring him down from the opposite side of the glass. His eyes were wide, wary, and fearful, as if he expected the creature to suddenly burst from the pen and pursue him with bestial hunger. I bit my lip to suppress the rising laughter.
           "Okay, here!" He whimpered and recoiled from the desk once he had returned the object to my possession.
           Though fear and common sense tugged hard on the reins, it took only seconds for curiosity to obtain control. Unnerved, but now inquisitive, he stood in the center of the room and returned the undying stare of the beast. Slow steps he took to the glass, rapping his fingers against it to be certain it would hold. Obsidian crouched low, slightly intimidated, yet undaunted.
           "Bad alien," Maddoc said, pointing and wagging his index finger. "Bad, bad alien."
           A shrill scream rang out as the creature leapt for the glass. His jaws opened wide, teeth flashing and tongue darting out at blinding speed. It rammed the window and Maddoc flew away, face wet and paling and eyes nearly popping from his skull. With a hand over his heart, he glanced at me, and I reluctantly forced back an emerging smile.
           "All right, I'm gone! That thing almost killed me."
           Unable and unwilling to be contained, laughter burst from me. Maddoc cried indignantly as he fled from the room and locked the door as an extra precaution. My breath escaped with the joy flowing outward, and I found difficulty in satisfying my starving lungs. Tears slipped through the cracks and made tiny wet trails down my cheeks. Through partially open lids I caught sight of Obsidian seated proudly upon his haunches, his muzzled turned in my direction and upper lip drawn back in a haunting sort of smile.
           I supported my weight with the desk, an arm around my midriff as sense slowly returned and the laughter ebbed. For the time it took me to regain composure, the creature never once allowed his attention to drift elsewhere. He gazed longingly at me, either as a source of amusement or a potential meal (and I was most hopeful for the former). His actions seemed to depend on mine. He was awaiting my next move as both a hopeful and confident predator, and as an inquisitive child close to bursting with excitement.
           How terrible a crime it would have been to deny him what he was so patiently anticipating. I lifted the lid of the object Maddoc had delivered to the desk at the console. From its outward appearance, one might have guessed it to be an antique suitcase, for it boasted a shining silver handle and clasps at one end and was given such a perfect rectangular shape suggestive of its possible use in overnight trips. Inside, however, it became quite clear how deceiving outward appearances often are.
           A lonely turntable returned my gaze as I pushed up the lid of the case. Silently it begged for a companion, and its wishes were granted when I meticulously slipped a record from its sleeve and placed it carefully with its new partner. A few wires were strung out from the console to my ancient device; the needle was set in place, and slowly the captivating dance between the once forgotten pieces of the phonograph began. The warm sounds of music emanated from the device, drifting about the room and throughout the pen in which Obsidian sat. Occasional pops and cracks found their way into the song, enhancing the vintage appeal of the severely outdated device.
           I took to the chair beside the desk, relaxing and observing the reactions Obsidian made with regard to the new sounds he was experiencing. At first he was wary, leaping about as if demons were closing in on him from every angle. His tail lashed the air threateningly, but as he came to realize the music was of a conceivable source, he settled himself and reposed upon the floor where I could no longer see him. Either he was enjoying the song, or had given up the fight and resigned himself to the fact that the music would continue to play regardless of what he did. I smiled in thinking of him, confident a common interest had been found.

 

           As the weeks ran together and drifted past in the swiftly moving current of time, my work continued. The subject showed considerable change in his attitude. Apathy no longer plagued him-it was quite the opposite. He had an attitude and an opinion of his own, things he was more than willing to share. Certain records I played were not to his liking, to which he would beat his head and tail against the glass until the noise was killed and replaced with one of a different sort. I quickly learned what songs and genres of music he most appreciated, and each time I played them he would shut his mouth and weave his head slowly and trancelike.
           Maddoc never again set foot into the holding area unless necessary, still fearful of the creature though Obsidian paid him no mind. All else had been going well: Garon now smiled in my direction each time he passed, as opposed to shaking his head in dismay; Rockland several times commended me in my work; Fero, when time allowed, would stop in for short visits and discuss the state of our Queen and her Soldiers, and was quite pleased to announce the birth of our second Queen. My health as well had made an improvement, the frequent trips to Borro now things of the past. Dmarias thankfully had kept his distance, and I had seen no trace of him in nearly two months (though I was certain the presence of Maddoc had everything to do with this).
           Less than a week after I had introduced music to my daily visits with Obsidian, a new idea struck me. Exiting the holding area, I strode past Maddoc, who loyally followed at my heels. His gun was prepped and he said not a word until I reached the port to the abattoir.
           "Excuse me, where are you going?"
           "In there." I replied nonchalantly, ignoring his obvious concern and stepping inside.
           The overpowering scent of blood and the freshly skinned carcasses drilled straight up my nostrils into my brain. I reeled in disgust, shying away from the stained tools displayed on the wall. Turning left, I passed several livestock pens and approached a small sliding door on the wall that appeared only large enough for my head to fit through. Maddoc staggered along behind me.
           "What the hell're you doing in here? Don't you wanna go play with your alien?"
           "I'm testing something. You may wait for me at the door."
           He seemed hurt, as if I were brushing him off. "Oh, I see how it is. Fine, I'm gettin' outta here. It smells like ass."
           I waited until I was certain he had left, not in the mood for interference with my plan. Once he had gone, and my only companions were the frightened animals in their pens staring at their slaughtered brothers on hooks, I put my fingers to the tiny square door and slid it back. There before me, on the floor of his enclosure, lay Obsidian.
           He stood abruptly, the whoosh of the panel triggering the idea that he was to be fed now. I had nothing to give him, but waited for his approach. Rather than rush the opening as he normally would at feeding time, he stared blankly at me, not accustomed to seeing my face without a thick pane of glass before it. His body grew tense, tail curling and extending toward the wall. Quickly he rapped it three times-bang! bang! bang!-and I smiled.
           "Obsidian…"
           Pleased with this verification that it was indeed I who faced him, he went lax and sauntered up to the opening. Whether or not it had been me, he was determined to receive some sort of benefit from the experience, and he thrust his muzzle through the hole as far as it would extend. With a feral hiss his jaws opened, tongue sliding outward in a challenging manner. I moved back, but kept my composure, and audaciously I ran my fingers over his slick forehead.
           Obsidian immediately pulled back and swung his head around, glaring back at me as would a preacher to the man who had set a Bible in flames. Apparently my sin had been comparable to such horrific acts, for it incited his wrath and he thrust his muzzle back out with every intention of snatching me up and pulling me through the hole piece by piece. His hostile roars left me shaken, but were certainly no grounds for quitting the plan altogether.
           Again I touched him, and again he pulled away. It had been so long since I held him within my arms the day he had burst from the abdomen of his host, yet even then he was less than eager to feel foreign hands upon him. Much as I would have enjoyed caressing his head as carelessly as I could the caged livestock, a fierce rope of common sense tightened about my neck and yanked me back down into the awful nightmare that was reality. Sitting there upon thefrigid, blood-soaked floor of the slaughtering room, watching the creature gnash his teeth and snarl vindictively, I sank deep into the fact that he was a carnivore and nothing else. Although intelligent, swift to learn, and an individual as distinct as any one human is from the next, he clung to his natural desires as fiercely as the Queen guards her brood. Thoughtlessly making contact with such an animal was a direct request for death, and I was only thankful the opening was far too small for his body to fit through.
           When at last he realized he could not reach me to rend my flesh, he pulled away and thrust one arm through the hole. His wide six-digit paw groped the air only inches away. His forelimbs were too short to reach me at my distance, and I heaved a grateful sigh as I watched in dismay. So positive I had been that he would take kindly to my affections, yet he lunged at me in deep-rooted ferocity. I began to drift into a sea of miscellaneous thoughts, wondering if his reaction would have been different (and more promising) had I left the phonograph to play one of his preferred pieces of music. The idea struck me as funny, almost foolish, and I exhaled a short laugh through my nostrils.
           Adamant as he was, Obsidian scraped the wall with his claws, causing a horrifying screech that made me cringe and sent the frightened prey animals to the far corners of their pens. He flashed his acuminate fangs, dripping with saliva and the resin sliding down his face. A deep guttural rumble ensued. My heart was transfixed with fear as had never before been the case in his presence. For a short-lived moment, I was gazing into the open mouth of a hostile beast, but these fears melted away as his rage receded. There he sat, muzzle shoved through the opening to the point of being stuck within its grasp, and huffed in frustration.
           It seemed so amusing that this predator had caught himself in the trap. I could have easily pushed him out, yet I decided to use the situation to my advantage. Sliding closer to the wall and keeping to one side to avoid any potential attack, I placed my fingers at his forehead once more. This was met with an abrupt and vicious snarl and a tumultuous struggle. His tail and body slammed the side of his pen, and the frightened animals bleated and squawked with the fear that their lives may be taken at that moment, but Obsidian remained a prisoner of the rage that had drawn him into the tiny hole. Again he huffed in such a humanlike way (though his voice was of a much deeper bestial tone), and I was ready for any complaint he felt necessary to make.
           Keeping my hand away from his forehead as that seemed so sensitive an area, I slid two fingers along the bony underside of his jaw. This was met with only slight disapproval; he did not flinch or scream as before, but rather he growled, and this was more a bluff than any sincere promise of revenge. After several moments he was quiet, and (dare I say?) actually enjoying the affection. True he was the furthest thing from a lapdog, but my heart swelled so greatly with joy at the sense of accomplishment-we were making contact, and after spilling the proper amount of blood, sweat, and tears, a bond, held together even by loose and flimsy threads, was possible.
           Positive behavior was not to go unrewarded. I suddenly cut off the affection I was delivering to approach one of the carcasses dangling from the ceiling. Taking up a large carving knife from the wall, I forced the contents of my stomach back down my throat and hacked off a limb from the body. It fell in a bloody heap to the floor, and still I swear to it that I heard the penned animals crying out in dismay. They recoiled from me as I passed them and offered the hunk of meat to the carnivore still caught in the hole, and he was more than pleased to receive it.
           His tongue lashed out and its small mouthparts tore away pieces of flesh, greedily stealing them back inside for him to devour. Ravenous was his appetite, and at one point his frenzy grew so wild that he ripped apart the bone still holding the dismembered limb together and took it into his mouth, crushing it to tiny shards and dust. He snarled, demanding more, at which point I drew upon an unknown source of courage and handfed him small chunks of the meat.
           Metallic fangs abraded the skin of my palm to devour the offerings, blood and all. While I hoped his trust in me would grow through this method of interaction, he seemed only interested in what more of this treat I could produce. More than once he caught my fingers between his teeth, nearly securing them as part of his meal, though I was swift to pull back. Not at all phased by my bleeding, I fed him what remained of the torn limb and wiped away the residue on my scrubs.
           The front of me was like an abstract painting with blood as the medium. My clothing, hands, and arms were so soaked with crimson that I might have been mistaken for the victim of a grotesque murder. Obsidian was wise to it and continued to struggle, hell-bent on breaking through and coming for me. He was still famished even after gorging himself, but as I stood and brought the knife to the torn carcass, the echoing sound of an opening door rang through the air.
           I dropped the knife and dashed back to the window, both hands on Obsidian as I thrust his head forward to dislodge him from the hole. He squealed in surprise, abruptly attacking the panel after I slid it across to break off our contact. Some men behind me called out my name in deep unfamiliar voices, more than surprised and displeased to find me there in bloodied scrubs.
           "What the hell is going on?" One asked, his eyes hard and lifeless and his head appearing too small for his body. "This is area is for authorized personnel only."
           To mask my true intentions, I replied, "I was feeding the subject."
           "Subject XM-104 has been fed."
           "So you say, but I feel his actions speak differently."
           The skyscraper of a man approached me, and this is when I caught sight of several small numbers tattooed on the side of his neck. "Leave us to do our job and keep your concerns limited to yours, else you will lose it!" was his haughty remark, and he turned away and revealed the barcode at the back of his head.
           It was much like being reprimanded by a computer-an intimidating threat, but one with no solid foundation. In a very nonchalant way I strode past him, making eye contact for a fleeting moment before responding, "a droid speaking in such an audacious and tactless manner obviously has a malfunction."
           Seething with anger, he swung for me and narrowly missed as Maddoc grabbed my shoulders and yanked me aside. A metal crate sitting in the line of fire was torn in two, and medical bags of fresh organs spilled onto the floor. With despair the enraged humanoid machine cursed the faulty programming of his emotional circuits. Pulling a knife from the wall, he raised it high behind his head. Deep lines outlined every piece of remorse and anguish in his face. With an ear-piercing shout, he drove the blade through the back of artificial skull. The wiring sparked and snapped, and a milky white fluid poured from the wound. Every anxious, pain-stricken groove in his face melted away, and his expression laid cold and dead. He rose again and stared into me with glazed eyes.
           "Many sincere apologies," said the droid, his voice now more mechanical than human. "My unpredictable emotions shall no longer inconvenience you."
           I stared fearfully at him, leaping when a large hand came to my shoulder. Maddoc insistently pulled me from the scene with his head turned away, but in my mind the sight of the sobered synthetic person, now brutally raped of all that made him near-human, was permanently burned. As we passed out of the abattoir, I watched him stand there blankly and deathlike with the dagger still lodged in his head.

 

           Nights were passed in silence. I remained with my subject for as long as I was allowed, and at times I felt my entire world existed within the holding area where my studies were conducted. The moment Maddoc put his head into the room, however, I was reminded of the oppressive tenure the mandatory curfew had on me. One hour after darkness had settled over the cold and turbulent world outside was all I was allotted; after that, I was expected to return to my quarters and remain there until daybreak, and my escort was with me always.
           For two months the routine was unbroken. Things continued in a droll and predictable manner, which was exactly as the company wished for things to be. The persistent fear that Maddoc had for Obsidian eventually wore away, and visits from Garon became more frequent. At one point during this interval of peace, we discussed and aptly named the other subjects in the facility, an act the other researchers regarded with silent contempt, save for Fero. He was beside us during the entire process and placed a bit of his own effort into the task of naming the Xenomorphs, bestowing upon his favorites names of great significance.
           When there was time to spare, I would visit the other members of our non-existent hive community, though Obsidian was always top priority in my mind. Not a day passed where he would fail to acknowledge me. It became customary for him to rap his tail thrice against the wall, as if it were his signature or handshake. My response was always a smile, perhaps a kind word or two spoken into the microphone to incite his usual devious expression. Despite any prior scuffles, he seemed to be warming up to me, or was at least growing accustomed to my presence.
           Most perplexing was how differently I was treated. Whereas any other researcher might be met with apprehension, ire, or indifference, I was always greeted with the same tail tap and given undivided attention. My entrances proved to ever rouse him from his sleep or draw him out of his current musings (if Xenomorphs did indeed pass their time in such a way). Unlike a dog who had all day awaited the return of his human companion, Obsidian displayed no exuberance, but rather he sat on his gaunt rear end and followed me with unseen eyes across the room. Either I was revered, or regarded as a very amusing meal.
           So it came to pass that he, on one night in particular, succumbed to fits of anxiety. That morning I was greeted with the usual triple slamming of the tail against the nearest wall, but as darkness descended upon the desolate rock of our inhabitance, he crumbled beneath an ambiguous foreboding. His lithe black body darted across the enclosure, scrutinizing every corner with rising suspicions, and these fear-stricken emotions rippled outward like waves on water until I too was consumed by the same sea of trepidation.
           The ancient phonograph I had entertained the subject with for months now was proving ineffective. Even his most preferred music-the tranquil classical piano and soft guitar strings-did little to soothe his frayed nerves. I attempted to call his name through the microphone attached to his private speaker system, and at first he leapt in surprise, whirling his head around and hissing to the invisible demons threatening to strike, but after several tries at capturing his attention I was ultimately ignored. Needless to say, my studies moved forward very little on that day.
           At the hour of dusk, the door of the holding area flew open and I leapt from my chair. Obsidian gave a quick scream, clinging to the far wall and staring outward as I gripped the center of my chest where my heart pounded in a terrified fury. Peering into the room with a broad smile, Maddoc laughed and apologized for the abrupt intrusion.
           "You won't believe it!" he exclaimed joyously. "Guess what happened."
           I took several moments to capture my breath before answering, "I could not guess. What?"
           "I got a call!" he cried, eyes wet with bliss. "They just told me I got a call from my sister."
           "Oh," I said with a great deal of relief. It took several seconds before the fear wore away and I could make sense of what he said. "Your family is doing well then?"
           "I don't know, they're waiting for me to take it. I have to stay here, though."
           "Oh," I stated again and shook my head. "No, go ahead. I'll be fine."
           Maddoc grinned ear to ear. "You sure?"
           For his sake, I returned the smile, though the incessant feeling of dread still lingered near my throat. "Yes, of course. You haven't spoken with them in so long, it would be a shame to deny you this."
           "Thank you! Thank you!"
           And with that, he was off in a flash down the hall, leaving me sitting alone there with those unperceived fears closing in fast. Obsidian had come down to the floor again but was still racked with terror, and now to an even greater degree. Every sight and every sound he lunged for, catching the end of his tail between his teeth more than once. Depraved frustration he took out on the door, pounding it so mercilessly with his skull that the metal began to cave outward. The window pane screamed as his claws tore across it, and the longer he continued his lament, the greater my suspicions grew.
           What we feared seemed only inches away, watching from the shadows with rising hunger and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Subconsciously I took to gazing about the room, peering over my shoulder and flinching each time I believed I saw something creeping around out the corner of my eye. The stress was wearing on me. Only ten minutes after Maddoc had left to receive his call, and it felt as though hours had gone by. Time plodded along at an agonizingly slow pace, like teardrops of wax sliding down the length of a burning candle. My gaze ran back and forth between the papers on my desk and the digital clock on the console, watching the minutes pass. Softly the door whooshed open behind me, giving me a start though I never turned around.
           "Is that all?" I asked, having expected Maddoc to remain on his call much longer. I was left unanswered and, finding it awkward, continued the conversation. "What did they say? Are they doing well?"
           Fatally silent footsteps shifted across the floor. Obsidian became enraged and snarled wildly in his pen. His tail whipped about and his claws scraped the glass. I felt my chair spin beneath me and my body turn. My panicked heart leapt to my throat as a pair of icy blue eyes glared daggers straight through me. I opened my mouth to scream, but two hands wrapped about my neck and gave a vengeful squeeze that threatened to snap my spine.
           Writhing in fear, I kicked the chair toward my attacker, arms flailing and papers flying about the room. I saw the floor rush beneath me as I was ripped from the desk and pressed against the wall. Fighting frantically with both hands at his, I gasped for air as my head swelled with blood. The world was growing darker around me, the sounds of Obsidian thrashing savagely becoming faint. A shadow loomed over my body. I stared up at the hateful, burning eyes above me and gripped my heart as the darkness came.
           "I'll see you in Hell, you dirty bitch!"
           I grabbed for his collar as he flung me toward the enclosure door, and backward we fell into the frigid metal wall. His arm grabbed for the doorframe and my back hit cold steel. Behind me the port flew open, sending me to the floor. Dmarias stood grinning maliciously at me from the entryway, half bent at the waist and a venomous expression upon his face.
           "You so badly wished to be closer to your beloved pet!" he sneered. "Now you may have what you deserve for fucking me over!"
           The tiny hairs on my neck stood at attention as a menacing growl thundered just behind me. Rivers of warm resin rained onto my head and dribbled down my hair and face. Deep, hateful tremors soon became malignant hisses. Blood rushed away from the surface of my skin as the powerful sable form leapt from the wall. Terror struck his face, and before words could manifest themselves at the edge of his tongue, Dmarias was on his back in a frenzied struggle.
           He screamed in pure agony, arms and fists pummeling though his efforts were in vain. The beast drove wicked claws into his flesh and tore away his throat. My mouth dropped in horror as blood soaked the once immaculately white scrubs. Within seconds the painful cries died away, and all movement, save the involuntary spasms of nerve and muscle, ceased beneath the oppression of death.
           With an illustrious smile, Obsidian turned his bloodied muzzle to me and proudly flashed his teeth. A sudden surgeof fear raced up my spine. Cold perspiration trailed down my forehead and wetted my palms. The crimson drum in my chest beat out a rapid dirge in my honor before cruel fate could pounce and take my life, but the beast seemed to have already satiated his barbarous appetite.
           Flicking his tail and returning to the carcass that was once the vile and coldhearted Dmarias, Obsidian stripped the flesh from the face of his victim. The mouthparts of his tongue lacerated the muscle, stained with the same crimson pooling on the floor. My mind knew nothing else and my body was moving mechanically. I rose and sidled around the homicide scene, eliciting a sharp hiss from the beast as he greedily clawed and consumed his kill. That alone was enough, and I fled from the room with eyes flooded and shadows impending. I felt my legs give way and the floor draw nearer, and then the imperious arms of unconsciousness wrapped around my frame and raped me in the darkness.

 

           Blinding light blanketed me when I opened my eyes, and for a brief moment I panicked and believed myself to be dead. The agitated countenances surrounding me were all the proof I needed that death had not yet made a prisoner of my soul. Exhaling a heavy sigh, I rubbed the side of my head and felt the curious texture of medical tape at my temples. Borro reached for my hand to discourage my scratching at the dressings, forcing a small and insincere smile before Rockland stepped forward from the crowd of men in lab coats. Fero was among them, and upon his face was an expression of both horror and sorrow. His lower jaw trembled, but he kept his tongue still.
           "Galena Larkin," Rockland began, "it has been the finding of the staff of this facility that you have acted irrationally."
           "Wait," I interjected, head still throbbing from the fall prior to blacking out. "What is it you are talking about?"
           "Was it not you who murdered Dmarias?"
           Reality struck at once with a vengeance. I sat there gaping, unable to believe the accusation. Borro and Garon were silent, and Fero averted his gaze.
           "No, I- …"
           "Five hours ago, the dismembered body of Luther Dmarias was found in Holding Area One, the door to the subject's enclosure open. It is the belief of this body of researchers and staff that you intentionally released the creature onto the victim before fleeing the scene. Is this true?"
           Indignantly I shook my head as tears flooded my eyes. "No! I was the one attacked."
           "Your body was found unharmed, Miss Larkin." Rockland snapped rather venomously. "Did you or did you not set the beast on Dmarias?"
           "I was sitting in the room when Dmarias came in! He attacked me and tried to force me into the pen. That is when the creature attacked him; I did not command it to do so!"
           "And what proof is there of this?"
           "The cameras! What of the security cameras?"
           "All operational except for the one in that particular room. Do you know something of this?"
           Again I shook my head, heart swelling with fury as my legs curled in closer to my body. I held them against my chest and sobbed quietly. The other men dispersed, drifting from the room and exchanging incoherent words beneath their breath. Rockland motioned with his finger at an armored man near the door, whispering to him as he came near. Rigidly the man nodded and excited the room, a bar code and large patch adorning the back of his head.
           "Unfortunately for you, judgment has already been passed." Rockland began once more. "A civilian transport vessel will be arriving for you shortly."
           "What-?"
           "Such behavior cannot and will not be tolerated at this facility. Our records are clean, and would still be had this event never occurred."
           Dropping down from the examination table, I snatched him by the wrist and gripped it so forcibly that his jaw dropped and eyes shuddered for several seconds.
           "Such treatment is inhumane! Why not am I allowed a fair trial to decide my fate? To where are you sending me?"
           Gathering himself and tugging out of my grasp, Rockland cleared his throat and replied, "to the Weyland-Yutani base at Xerrein. It's an isolated region two galaxies over-a great distance, though not great enough in my opinion."
           Snubbing me so callously, he turned and marched toward the door. He stopped in the entryway, back still in my direction, and continued, "the beast still runs free through this complex. Strict safety precautious are being taken, therefore you must remain in quarantine until the ship arrives."
           "Why?" I stated sharply. "I do not fear it."
           Rockland chuckled, and there was a bit of enmity to his tone. "Of course not. It is not that we fear the idea that it would kill you. Why should it when you so willingly sacrificed our best researcher so that it could escape?"
           The acidic words stung my heart. I choked on my sorrow and swallowed hard. "How dare you."
           "You may lose your career in the research field; however, I am certain there would be good work for you in a brothel, Miss Larkin."
           Spitefully I tore after him, slamming my fists against the door as it closed and locked in front of me. My screams echoed in the nearly empty room, magnifying the fact that I was truly alone.
           When words could no longer manifest themselves, I sank to the floor in despair. Legs curled up to my body, my incessant sobbing made my body quake and the indignation burn within my chest. Tears soaked into my clothing and dripped down my face to the floor, marking forever the sorrow and remorse trapped in my heart. I remained this way until the pounding of ireful fists shook the door. With a start, I sprang to my feet and was pulled from the room and led at gunpoint down the corridor. An endless stream of eyes watched with virulent interest as I walked the proverbial gauntlet and made my way outside into the beating wind.
           One man, dressed similarly to the gunmen escorting me, carried a small crate filled with material possessions-my phonograph, records, paperbacks, and clothing-and boarded the ship just before us. Upon the side of the vessel I read Liberty, and scoffed at the painful irony in the name.
           Ascending the ramp, I heard a voice call my name, and I turned to find Maddoc waving frantically from the crowd. With his hands cupped at his mouth, he shouted at me what sounded like a question, but his words were lost in the fury of the wind. The man behind me was growing impatient at my delay and stabbed me with the barrel of his gun to urge me onward. I gave a solemn wave to my friend before the outside world was lost to me, and I was led to a room within the ship.
           Although it boasted no iron bars or dank and dreary atmosphere, my new quarters were very much a prison cell. All personal items, after they were deemed safe by a pair of security officials, were left on the small table directly across from my cot. A sink, toilet, and slim shower stall that appeared barely able to accommodate one person rested against the eastern wall of the room, and apart from these aforementioned luxuries, I was given a few square feet of floor space and nothing more.
           The ill-tempered gunman wasted no time in closing and locking my door, and soon his face disappeared from view. Then I was alone once more. I lay down upon the indurate cot with both hands folded as if the Almighty had come to judge me at that moment. When I wished to cry, tears refused to come. Shock was still lingering and suppressing my emotions, and for several minutes I remained so motionless that even I could scarcely detect the rising of my chest as I breathed.
           Beneath me the ship rumbled, its engines heating up. I knew my short career was dead, and I began to wish Hell upon the souls I held such undying hatred for, thankful, at the very least, that I would no longer have to suffer the sight of them. With a solemn acceptance of my fate, I closed my eyes and listened to the abysmal hum of the ship; and then, as if it all had been planned, my ears caught the sound of a few explicit thumps within the wall-bang! bang! bang!-and a smile spread across my face as the Liberty began her ascent.

Part 2: Vagrants of Space

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~\|/Xenomorph Body Language\|/~
click the links to see examples of gestures

=Gestures

Mouth Open, Tongue Pushed Out Slowly-- this is assumed to be a greeting. It is non-aggressive and the tongue is usually moved about in a slow side-to-side motion. The mouthparts of the tongue may open and close.
Mouth Open Slightly, Teeth Showing, Tongue Hidden-- a non-aggressive greeting. The subject is most likely attempting to acquire a scent from the other being it has encountered.
Mouth Open, Teeth Showing, Tongue Forward and Just Behind Teeth-- a warning gesture. The subject is prepped for attack and will most likely follow through.

=Sounds

Non-Aggressive Growling (gurgling, purring)-- a greeting sound. It signifies a relaxed, pleased, and/or amused Xenomorph.
Aggressive Growling (snarling)-- may be either a threat or a bluff. It signifies an angry Xenomorph that is likely to attack.
Hissing-- a less aggressive threat (usually a bluff). It is most often used by a subject who is unsure of his/her ability to ward off the intruder/attacker. It is also used by immobilized Queens attached to egg sacs to intimidate Soldiers, Drones, and intruders into submission.
Screaming-- signifies an injured, frightened, and/or annoyed Xenomorph. This sound can also show aggression and alert other hive members.

=-_Reference_-=
A dictionary of terms related to the world and study of Xenomorphs
Click the words to see images of the object being described

Atmosphere Processor-- an enormous machine manufactured by the Weyland-Yutani Corporation. It is an essential part of terraforming colonies, as it alters elements in the atmosphere to make the air "breatheable."

Chestburster-- the third phase of the Xenomorph life-cycle. The Chestburster is the fully-developed fetus that was implanted in the body of its host as an embryo. When the embryo reaches this stage, it forces its way out through the ribcage of the host. The host for the embryo depends on how well-developed the Chestburster will be. Soldier and Drone Chestbursters from human hosts will have tiny, useless forelimbs and rely mostly on their long tails to move about. Queen Chestbursters from human hosts will be slightly more developed, but equally as feeble. Chestbursters from canine hosts are a great deal larger and have fully-formed limbs. They are also quadrupedal (walking on four legs). However, adult Xenomorphs from canine hosts are smaller than adult Xenomorphs from human hosts.

Cryotube-- a chamber suited for one person. They are used on all ships designed for lengthy journeys in space. When asleep in a cryotube, the user is kept in stasis and all effects on the body (such as aging) are negated. Some have slept within these chambers for over half a century with little to no effect.

"Dog" Alien-- a Xenomorph that was born from a canine host. Also called the "runner," it is much smaller than a Xenomorph from a human host. It is quadrupedal (four-legged) and less cumbersome than its bipedal (two-legged) cousins as it has no dorsal extensions. The "dog" alien is much sleeker in appearance and faster in movement. It moves about on walls and ceilings just as easily as it does on the ground.

Drone-- the working member of a Xenomorph hive. They are smaller than the Soldiers and are marked by a distinct sagittal crest. Their main function is to gather hosts and tend to the Queen, although they may engage themselves in a fight if needed. Drones may help guard the Queen, but are not permitted to mate with her.

Emergency Escape Vehicle (EEV)-- a small vessle capable of carrying up to five people. Many ships have more than one, and when danger is present, these 'lifeboats' are activated automatically and separated from the main ship. Any occupied cryotubes on board are shipped out into the EEV before it is released.

Facehugger-- the second phase of the Xenomorph life-cycle, and perhaps the most obscure. The Facehugger in no way resembles any other stage of the Xenomorph life-cycle. It is a large spider-like organism with eight jointed limbs which it wraps around the head of its victims. Its long tail gives it amazing jumping ability; the Facehugger will leap at anything that moves. Once the victim is secured, he/she is put into a coma and a long tube on the ventral side of the creature is slipped down the throat deep into the chest. The embryo is implanted this way, and large air sacs on either side of the Facehugger's body provide oxygen for the host while he/she is unconscious. Like the adult Xenomorphs, the Facehugger has acidic blood, which deters outside forces from attacking or attempting to remove it. If the Facehugger is removed before implantation of the embryo is complete, the victim will instantly go into shock and die. After the embryo is inserted, the Facehugger detaches itself and dies soon after. Facehuggers carrying Queen embryos are remarkably larger and different in appearance than Facehuggers of Drones and Soldiers.

Hadley's Hope-- a Weyland-Yutani terraforming colony established on LV-426. It consisted of researchers, medical personnel, and even families. Ultimately, it was infected when one colony member was brought back from an expedition with a Facehugger attached. The colony was eventually destroyed in a massive explosion.

LV-426-- a lifeless planet of a size smaller than Earth. It boasts a rough, rocky terrain, and is the crash site of an unidentified, cresent-shaped alien ship. Upon inspection of this ship, the presumed pilot of the vehicle was found dead and as though he had "exploded from inside" (Dallas, 'Alien'). Deeper within the ship, hundreds of Xenomorph eggs were discovered. LV-426 is also where the Hadley's Hope terraforming colony was established.

Soldier-- also called the "Warrior," this is the largest member of a Xenomorph hive (with the exception of the Queen). All Soldiers are male and extremely aggressive. Their main duty is to protect the hive, the Queen, and her eggs. The Soldiers will compete with each other for mating rights, the winner receiving the chance to impregnate the Queen. Competition arises when the dominant Soldier grows too old or weak to defend his status, and when new Queens have matured. Soldiers are distinguished by their large size and smooth heads.

Terraforming-- the act of establishing a colony on a lifeless planet and converting the atmosphere to make conditions livable.

Queen-- the highest ranking member of a Xenomorph hive. The Queen makes the laws that all other members (including Soldiers) must obey. She is the only female member of the colony that reproduces. Her mate becomes the dominant male in the hive after impregnating her. Like the queens in ant and bee colonies, the Xenomorph Queen forms an enormous egg sac, becoming immobile so that she may set to work producing thousands of eggs. Sometimes there are less successful broods that wield only a few hundred eggs, thus forcing the Queen to become receptive again soon after her previous mating. Although the main function of the Queen is to reproduce, she may detach herself from her egg sac if needed and is quite capable of fighting off any threat to herself. Queens are twice as large as their Soldiers and possess an intimidating yet cumbersome head crest that can be up to nine feet (2.74 meters) in length. The tongue within the mouth of the Queen can reach a length of three feet (0.91 meters), and is used in the same way as the tongues of the Soldiers and Drones.

Weyland-Yutani Corporation-- terrain-growth conglomerate that had "defense contracts under the military" (Wren, 'Alien Ressurection'). This company was mostly concerned with terraforming. It manufactured atmosphere processors and set up colonies on uninhabited planets. Covertly, the members of the company were attempting to capture the Xenomorphs for study and use in the bio-weapons division of the military. The Hadley's Hope terraforming colony was established under Weyland-Yutani so that the colonists would serve as hosts for the Xenomorphs in the cresent spacecraft on LV-426 (all this being done without the colonists' knowledge). The company is notorious for risking civilian lives all for the sake of capturing Xenomorph specimens.