Prologue 14 page

"So."

"So anyone could have planted this egg." She stood up. "Even me."

"This is just a regular chest-burster. I did not authorize this to be shipped out. Just that larvae queen." He shook his head. "I still don't feel good about that guy Begalli. He's been acting strangely."

Kozlowski sighed. "He seems clean to me. Anyway, he's the only alien expert in the landing party, and he's been giving us good information, by my lights."

"I don't know."

"Maybe you don't know this, but all radio signals are scrambled by the content of the shell in those hives. Once inside, we'll have no communication with the lander. We're going to need 'that bastard' in there more than any other crew member. Without him, this operation is dead in the water. You still want me to bust him?"

Grant thought about this.

He didn't like it, not at all. MedTech could very well be behind this whole sabotage business, and most certainly Begalli had been purchased from MedTech.

Had they purchased him back?

Was Foxnall back on Earth rubbing his hands with glee, waiting for the news of the demise of this mission, the death of Grant... Or would they just act when the mission got back? How could they possibly hope to pull off something like that?

At the same time, he well knew that Kozlowski was right.

Begalli knew his stuff, and they needed someone with knowledge of the inner workings of the alien queen's chambers, and what any change in the norm might mean.

"No. I guess you're right."

"Good. I'm glad we're agreed on that." She started out of the room. "I'm going to get the team ready for our push. Take a break, have a cup of tea—but if you're coming with us, I want to see you out there in an hour. Capische?"

"Yes. And Colonel Kozlowski... Alex." He tipped an imaginary hat. "Again, thanks."

She stopped and turned around. "Mr. Grant... Daniel..."

"Yes?"

"This isn't exactly the kind of mission you had in mind, is it? I know your type. The enduring optimist under fire. The sturdy campaigner who uses ignorance as a positive. Overconfidence, Grant. That's what I think it's called."

"Sounds like a defect, Kozlowski. Why are you letting it into that hive?"

"Because it's also called 'spirit,' Danny boy. It's infectious and it might just put us over the top here in a very ticklish situation." She winked at him. "Besides, it turns me on like hell, and your goddamned Fire has got absolutely nothing on good old-fashioned hormones to get me in the mood for action."

Grant found a grin coming to his face. "You going to save some of those hormones for me, Alex?"

"Sure, Danny. Next time I get PMS."

She turned and strutted away.

Grant shook his head.

What a woman. He wasn't sure if he could handle her.

But he sure would like to try.

The tactical nuclear weapon struck the red alien hive dead on.

Kozlowski watched the event inside the lander on the screen from the Razzia's perspective. These tactical strikes had an extremely limited radius of effect, with minimal fallout and radiation, but nonetheless they had carefully ascertained the weather conditions beforehand. Everything had been perfect for the strike. The execution had been precise and professional.

"Good shooting!" she told Hastings.

Then she went outside where the troops were waiting for her.

They'd heard the news on their radios and were cheering.

"Just the start, people," she said as she strode into their midst. "The uphill road is ahead." She'd already noticed that the ranks of the battling aliens had thinned out somewhat. "What's going on out there?"

"Just seconds after detonation the reds just kind of stopped whatever they were doing and started spasming. Lots got killed, I think, and lots more are starting to take off," reported Mahone.

"Whatever psychic link they had with their queen mother must have been broken when the bitch got wasted," said Henrikson, nodding.

Kozlowski visualized that moment of intense destruction, the impact as that multimegaton nuke tore through the chambers of the reds, decimating all in it, shrieking caroming nuclear wind.

Had queenie gotten off one final scream of agony, one bitter nasty farewell to her evil crew?

Kozlowski hoped so. She hoped that bitch knew who'd been responsible. She was only sorry the thing didn't have a little picture of her to take down to bug hell with her.

Kozlowski turned to where Grant stood, looking uncomfortable and anxious in his suit. Doubtless, he was regretting his volunteering for the move into the hive. He'd be okay, though. He had the stuff.

"There it is!" said Henrikson, putting down the pair of binoculars and pointing. "You don't need glasses to see that baby."

Sure enough, off to the east, she could see the telltale mushroom cloud, rising up past the horizon of this flat, bleak landscape.

Black and poisonous.

"They're taking off in droves!" someone shouted.

Kozlowski swiveled. Sure enough, the reds seemed totally disinterested in the conflict now. They were taking off in waves. Racing away back toward their blasted hive.

Why? Instinct? Whatever the reason, it wouldn't do them much good. Still, Kozlowski was pleased. They wouldn't be hanging around here.

The blacks hung back for a moment, perplexed.

Then, as though the thunderbolt of realization had hit them, they started after the enemy who had attempted to destroy them.

Totally ignoring the interlopers behind the shielded vessel from another planet.

"Yes!" said Kozlowski, stamping the ground with unalloyed glee.

Just as planned.

"It worked," she said. "The reds are retreating to the other hive. This one should be clear in a few minutes."

Grant was fidgeting. He clearly wanted this all to be over. "Then let's get moving! Who's going in?"

"Everyone but the technical crew," said Kozlowski. "And Ellis."

"Makes sense," said Grant. "He's taking Jastrow's death pretty hard."

"Yeah," said Mahone. "They grew up together, joined the Corps together, and fought for years in the same unit."

"He's a good marine," said Kozlowski. "He'll be okay in a few days. But I'd rather not have him in close combat right now. Besides, someone has to man the guns." She walked over to the bank of guns poking out the side of the lander. "How are you doing up there, Private?"

"All set, Colonel."

Luckily they'd trained all the troops to use these things.

"Right. I'm sure you'll do just fine." She turned back and walked toward Grant. "How about you? You sure you want to do this."

"No. But I'm going to."

"Good. It'll be good to have you along.

"All right then, helmets on." She fitted her own on above her suit, clicked in the radio, waited for the rest of the troops to check in. When they did, when it was all finished, she chinned her radio again. "Okay, O'Connor." The troops lifted their guns, released the safeties. "Drop the southern border."

They moved out.

There were still a few red aliens lingering about, and these charged in when they got a whiff of the intruders.

But this was the kind of operation that the marines had expected, that they had trained for. The blasts of their rifles easily dealt with the charging aliens. It was like a shooting gallery.

Meanwhile, Ellis and O'Connor were doing damned fine work with the PEHs. They spiked a few home to either side of the hive's opening and moments later the marines had a nice tunnel of force field to make their way through, cleaning up the couple of xenos left over and not having to worry about the ones who'd been excluded from the party.

Kozlowski turned to see how Grant was doing. She'd put him in the back, to guard the rear so he wouldn't shoot any of the troops.

He was doing a damned good job of blasting apart the fallen aliens, making sure they stayed down.

When they reached the opening of the hive, Kozlowski put a hand up, halting the party.

"What's the reading say, O'Connor?" she asked through the radio.

"Sensors show they're still on the run. No party's coming back."

"Good news." She turned to the group. "I don't know how long we've got in there before the three bears come home... but I do know we're going to go in there and get us some porridge."

Laughter. Cheers.

"However, let's be quick about it, okay? No sightseeing, no rubbernecking. We picked up enough DNA from dead reds already, so we don't have to pack anything in ice. Moreover, we don't have to take 'em back alive. Now as we discussed before, what we're going to be up against in there are some pretty nasty bugs, bigger and smarter. Take this into account."

"Kozlowski!"

She turned and found herself helmet to red face with Grant. He'd undone his top and was holding it at his side, getting himself a breath of fresh air. "Well, Colonel!" His eyes were gleaming with excitement. He looked like a Boy Scout who'd just fired his first BB gun. "Were my combat skills satisfactory?"

Kozlowski granted him a patronizing scowl. "Pat yourself on the back later, Grant. And put that damn helmet back on!"

She got back on the radio.

"O'Connor. Send up the cargo drone."

That was what they were going to be using to carry the royal jelly back up with.

"When it gets up here, we'll drop the southern border and head out. We all ready?"

She surveyed the covered faces, knowing already they were about as ready as they were ever going to be.

"This is the last radio contact till we get back out," said Kozlowski. "Open her up, O'Connor. Over and out."

The skein of force frizzled off.

Perfect.

O'Connor was getting really good in his manipulations. The tunnel of the force field that led from the rounded entrance of the hive back to the bubble around the Razzia was still intact.

There weren't too many of the blacks left out there, but they couldn't get in.

Unless, of course, there were other entrances...

Likely, but the things didn't seem particularly interested. They seemed more interested in the cargo drone that had crawled up the slight incline. It was an automatically controlled vehicle with eight thick wheels. Omni-terrain. One of the marines took over the controls when it reached them.

They started down.

The tunnels were recognizably of alien origin. Kozlowski had seen plenty of hive tunnels, that was for certain. Nonetheless, these were a little larger than usual, with a different consistency of building material.

"I've never seen an alien nest so empty before," said one of the soldiers.

"I have," said Kozlowski grimly. "And it was a trap."

The nest on Hollywood and Vine.

It was flashing back on her.

The walls, like inside a tumorous colon...

The prickly fear, the sick-in-the-stomach...

Having people with her she respected, cared for... smack dab in the vat of trouble and fear... Along with someone special, for whom she feared the most.

She remembered her feelings for Michaels. It welled up inside of her, and she had to push it back down, along with her fear.

This time would be different, she told herself.

She shut out the memory and went into her automatic "competent" mode.

Nonetheless, she could feel the memories crowding in on her.

About forty meters down it became apparent that things were different in other ways as well.

There was a convergence of tunnels.

Three separate ways to go.

"Okay, Dr. Begalli. Get your butt and that machine up front."

Dr. Begalli shuttled forward. In his hand he held a device with a pair of green sensor extensions. A pheromone detector. Begalli tapped a few buttons and pointed the device in each of the directions in turn, scrutinizing the results carefully.

"Well, Doctor," said Kozlowski. "Which way to the buried treasure?"

The helmeted head bobbed eagerly. "Well, the pheromone readings seem to jibe with what I expected." He pointed to the left. "Let's try that way."

They started down the corridor.

"This is why we need Begalli," she told Grant. "The tunnels of this hive are much more mazelike than any I've encountered on Earth. Without him, it might take a long time to find the queen mother."

Grant shook his head. "If you say so, Colonel. But I'm still keeping my eye on him."

"That's it, Grant. I've found the perfect job for you. Begalli watch. Sounds wonderfully exotic," she said.

"Sure. That's what I'll do." Grant's helmet turreted back and forth. "Where is the little creep, anyway?"

"You're not doing your job... But don't worry, there's a curve just up ahead. He just went around that. We've just lost sight—"

"Colonel," said Private Mahone. "The motion detectors show significant and sudden activity up ahead."

"Begalli!" Kozlowski yelled. "Get your ass back here!"

Just then, the suited Dr. Begalli returned around the bend where he'd disappeared.

Kozlowski could hear him screaming without benefit of the radio.

She didn't know the little guy could move that fast—let alone that fast with the hindering weight of a full battle suit on.

"Yaaaaaaaaaaa!" screamed Dr. Begalli as he ran for all he was worth around the corner. He ran past them, toward the cover of the cargo drone carrier.

"Begalli!" said Grant. "What the hell is it?"

Kozlowslti didn't have to ask.

She could pretty much guess.

"Arms!" she yelled.

She needn't have bothered. The others were ready, angling their weapons down.

However, ready as they were, all the preparations were pretty much in vain.

The first of the queen's guard came around the corner and Kozlowski had to stop herself from gasping.

It was big and it was fast, and it was mean.

The blasts caught it full in the chest, and it kept on coming for what seemed like a full second before it was lifted up and slammed against the wall. It tried to scrabble back up and tackle them again, before a final plasma stream knocked its head apart.

"There's more," yelled the point man. "There's—"

The next one was even bigger, and even faster. Before they could swing their weapons away from the first and onto the new arrival, it was on the first soldier.

Horrible claws tore the man's chest apart.

"Jesus!" cried Private Mahone as she was sprayed with blood. She swung her gun around and let off a spurt of plasma, but missed. The beast was incredibly fast. It finished one more ripping shake of the point man and then leapt toward the rest.

Lesser soldiers might have lost it right then, so horrific was the sight. But they kept their cool, aimed their weapons, and let the thing have it.

Two more "guards" attacked.

Another soldier was torn apart before the guards were subdued, blasted to pieces.

In all her time fighting inside hives, Kozlowski had never seen such an intense battle conflagration. The queen's guards were incredibly quick and agile, almost imbued, it seemed, with superpowers. Fortunately, this crew was also the best she'd worked with, and they'd half expected something like this.

Within violent minutes, four aliens and two humans lay smoking and quite dead upon the ground.

"God," was all that Private Mahone could say, lying slumped against the wall, gasping for air and still grasping her weapon, ready if another bug should care to call.

"No, I don't think God's around here," said Henrikson. "This is more like the Other Place."

For her own part, Kozlowski was just numb.

"Okay, we'll pick the bodies up on the way back. Take a quick moment for a breather, because that's all the time we've got if any of us wants to get out of here."

Two more dead. She couldn't believe it, even when she looked down at their twisted and torn remains. This wasn't worth it. But she had her orders, and she had her duty, and she knew nothing more than that she had to complete this mission, or their lives and the lives lost earlier and the months spent on this project would have been for naught.

A suited figure peeked around the corner of the cargo drone. "Is... is everyone all right?"

Dr. Begalli. Apparently, his head had been well stuffed in the sand.

Daniel Grant, who had been leaning on the side wall, exhausted, pushed himself off and walked over to the man. "No. Two more dead. You couldn't have warned us this would happen?"

"We knew about the guards. What we didn't know was that they'd come charging up at us like that," said Kozlowski. She got her second wind, went over to have a look at the only xeno head that had survived the mauling. "Ever see anything quite like this, Doctor?"

Begalli gave the angry and suspicious Grant a wide berth in coming around to look. "Oh, heaven, what a mess—No, Colonel, I had no idea... Loathsome beasts. I don't recall the report from the last visit here giving them full justice. We knew they were bigger, but not this nasty. This is fascinating." He looked up from the dead beast. He took a small piece of blasted "skin" in a bottle. "I'll have to do a genetic workup when I get back. The queen mother may equip her guards to continue to evolve." He shook his head, mystified. "Or could the things have devolved rather than evolved. What a fascinating mystery! So much is down here!"

"Let's get a roll on."

"Yeah, Begalli. And you go first," said Grant. "Let's see a little courage for a change."

Begalli nodded, picked up his pheromone meter, and they were off again toward the depths of the alien hive.

"The queen's chambers should be down there," said Begalli.

The electric torches stabbed down into the darkness—but beyond their reach, Kozlowski saw the beginnings of what appeared to be some kind of bioluminescence.

"Okay," she said. "This place has had a few surprises that we weren't prepared for. There still might be more. Dr. Begalli, Corporal Henrikson, Daniel Grant, and myself will head on down to the chamber. Dicer, Clapton, and Mahone, stay here and guard our backs. I don't expect the radios to work, so let's just say if we're not back in an hour, get back to the lander and get out of here."

Private Dicer was a skinny guy with big eyes that seemed about to pop out of his head. He'd put on an excellent display of bug killing, but clearly the pressure was getting to him. Sweat pasted his long stringy hair down over his forehead. Private Clapton was a little more poised. He was a thickset easy-come, easy-go sort with a ready humor that he'd somehow lost now. Private Mahone looked as though she simply could not even believe she was here. But they were all good soldiers. They'd been good soldiers up above and they'd be good soldiers down here.

"Yes, sir," they chorused.

Kozlowski took the controls of the drone from a trooper and motioned the party onward.

It took another ten minutes to get down to a place where the lamps were necessary to see. Still, Kozlowski kept the side lights of her suit on, just in case things suddenly went dark.

The tunnel went around a bend.

Suddenly opened up.

It was the biggest chamber that Kozlowski had ever seen.

Eerily lit by the bioluminescence was the scene that the scientists had more or less predicted.

The four huge pods, radiating around a larger pod, above which the queen towered, a true giant, like a devil tilted atop her evil throne.

Only the sketchy holograms could never have hinted at the textures or the colors, the bizarre organic geometry here that threatened to drive a mind mad if concentrated on too closely.

The queen's pod glistened and oozed with what Kozlowski knew to be royal jelly.

The stuff that would make Grant an incredibly rich man, that would give the armed forces what they wanted, that would spell a success to this bloody campaign.

"Incredible," said Grant.

However, his eyes did not glow with avarice.

"Amazing," said Kozlowski. "We've hit the motherlode of royal jelly here." She looked at Grant. "You're going to get your tank filled, I think."

She patted the metal, and it echoed hollowly.

"Little problem," said Grant. "What about queeny?"

The gigantic creature perched atop the center mound did not even seem to notice they were even there. Its attention seemed focused off into space, as though it were meditating.

"I'm sure it's psychically directing the rout of the reds," said Begalli. "Must be. It's so absorbed, it didn't even notice the death of its guards." He quickly scanned the room again. "Four pods. Four guards. Excellent correspondence. Looks like we've got this place all to ourselves. All we have to do is to deal with the queenie, and she's just a sitting duck!" He smiled broadly, skipping a little closer to the gleaming, gooey treasure hoard. "Looks delicious, doesn't it? Ah, what wonders that stuff must hold. I can't wait..." He cut himself off suddenly and looked furtive.

"Can't wait?" said Grant. "This is my expedition. What exactly can't you wait for?"

"Uhhmmm. Nothing. Nothing, sir..." He drifted closer to the pod. "Look at it all. I never thought I'd see this much up close. God, it's beautiful."

The queen mother was as still as a statue. As still as death.

Beautiful? Was fear beautiful? Dread? Terror? All the primitive juices battled now at Alex Kozlowski's barrier.

Michaels's beautiful head boiling apart with acid.

His scream.

Her guilt.

She wanted to turn and run from this place. It was worse than she had ever imagined it. The dead body of her lover seemed superimposed over everything.

She calmed herself. She'd known that she would never get the trauma of that dreadful Hollywood day off her mind, that she'd have to live it all over again in her head.

She just never realized she'd have to live it over again in reality.

And this time it could be her skin bubbling off, to expose the grinning skull beneath.

"Beautiful?" said Grant. "I'm not so sure anymore. People have died for this stuff. I feel... responsible."

"No time for self-remonstration," said Kozlowski. "Glad to hear you've got a conscience, but we really should finish this mission up. Begalli, get away from there. We can't take any chances. I want that thing up there dead, and I'm going to do it myself, right—"

Grant, though, was on a jag. Apparently the deaths of the other three soldiers, so close, had really shaken him up.

"I don't know," said Grant. "I just don't know."

"Mr. Grant! You started this whole thing rolling."

"Yeah, and I'm going to have to live with it for the rest of my life, too. I'm paying for my ignorance. But you, Begalli—" He brought his gun up. "You've been sabotaging this mission from day one, haven't you?"

"What?" said Begalli, turning back to him.

"Come off it! I've been watching you, Begalli, and I know damn well you're up to something," said Grant. "You're still working for MedTech, aren't you?"

"Okay, sure... I have been up to something." He took a breath. "I'm doing research, independent of Neo-Pharm. I'd planned to publish articles on my findings."

"Articles?"

"A new kind of alien. I'd go down in history. I'd be famous... forever!"

"Articles?" repeated Grant.

"I've got more than enough money, Grant. And I always hated MedTech—what I want is to be acknowledged for my scientific efforts. That's why I wanted to come down here. Maybe I'll even write a book... Yes, a bestseller!"

"You heard it, Grant," said Kozlowski. "The only thing he's guilty of is scientific greed. Now back off..."

"So how do you know he isn't lying ...?" Grant started to say, before a sudden hissing shriek froze his sentence.

Without warning, the queen mother jumped.

It sailed through the air, and it landed just short of Dr. Begalli. Stunned and disbelieving, Begalli tried to turn.

A long set of secondary jaws streaked out from the alien's mouth, slicing and hammering into the back of the scientist's head, boring through and pushing his eyes out of their sockets like red Jell-O being squeezed through cookie cutters.

Kozlowski was stunned. The thing wasn't supposed to be able to do that. Wasn't its ovipositor fastened to the pod? But then wasn't that just something else they didn't know about these aliens?

Only a flicker of a second of thought, though. Already her rifle was going up, aiming, squeezing off a round.

Henrikson fired at the exact same moment.

Their fire converged upon the exact same spot on the queen. It hissed and wailed, a hole blown in its thorax. Its blood rained down upon Begalli's head and boiled his face away. The alien started toward them, forelimbs clutching and seeking.