The noiselessness of the huge vessel helped Hopper understand why the aliens had managed to get the drop on them. With the radar out and the ship’s instruments unable to detect the presence of alien vehicles anyway, the thing had probably dropped in from the sky so quickly, so quietly, that no one had time to react to it. Or perhaps it had even snuck up on them underwater and then leaped from beneath to land on the chopper deck.
“No man left behind,” said Hopper softly. When Nagata stared at him, not understanding, he continued. “Maybe they’re not so alien after all. That’s got to be their version of ‘leave no man behind.’ You get one alive… they come for it.”
Nagata nodded. “It makes sense,” he said.
Wow. He’s agreed with me on something. What’re the odds?
Suddenly Raikes came charging out of the bay from behind them, urgency on her face. Hopper put up his hands and said, “Slow down, Raikes. They’re gone.”
As if Hopper hadn’t spoken, she said, “We just got a report. Medical casualty C-52. Two men down.”
“In C-52? That’s—”
“Engineering,” said Raikes.
The full implications of that news struck home. “They’re still on board,” Hopper whispered. Then, speaking with authority, he said, “Lock down the ship. And tell Beast he’s not to go anywhere near—”
Raikes’s expression immediately informed him what the next words out of her mouth were going to be. “He already made a beeline down there. It’s his house, Captain,” she added, as if apologizing for Beast’s precipitous actions.
“Goddammit!” said Hopper, snarling. He was already moving, and seconds later was joined by a small craft action team—SCAT—weapons at the ready. “We have a hostile on board! Lock and load, people!”
As Beast sprinted toward the engine room, he heard a hollow, repeated booming sound in the distance, echoing through the corridors. He made it into the main engine control center just in time to see several of his people backing up, their eyes wide with terror, their gazes fixed upon a sealed hatch down at the bottom of a flight of stairs that led to a companionway. The hatch, or rather what was on the other side of it, was the source of the noise. Something was pounding on the hatch cover. A human fist wouldn’t have even been heard. This thing was making a noise like a sledgehammer.
But even a human armed with a sledgehammer wouldn’t have made any progress on actually getting through the hatch. The cover was designed to hold back thousands of pounds of water, should the ship’s hull be breached, giving the sailors time to reach higher ground and safety.
Now, instead, the hatch cover was showing signs of wear and tear. It was visibly dented, and its bolts had begun to bend, to buckle. As if sensing impending success, the pounding intensified.
“Get out of here,” said Beast, just as the door gave way.
The Regents fighting unit smashes through the impediment in his path. He registers dispassionately how much force was required to pound through the obstruction and the information is then sent to the central repository for all information gathered regarding the humans.
It is his job to test as much as possible the “ground level” resources that the humans possess. Both the Land Commander and the Sea Commander are very interested in the results of his study. It is impossible to know for sure where and when particular information is going to be useful. Ultimately he doesn’t truly care about any of that. His job is to gather intel. The uses to which it will subsequently be put are of no interest to him.
There are more humans in front of him. This is not unanticipated. The primitive ship is infested with them.
His on-board attack systems examine the threat ratio each human represents. Several are fleeing. Their readouts register green. They are thus of no interest to him.
The largest one, however, glows a bright and furious red. It is approaching, coming down the stairs toward him. If there is fear in this specimen, it is being overwhelmed by what appears to be (he surmises) indignation. All of the human’s bodily readings are in the upper levels of what the alien has determined to be human norms. Heart rate, blood pressure, everything is spiking.
It is doubtless preparing to attack him.
This will be interesting.
The alien that was facing Beast looked different from the one he’d seen sprawled out on the examining table. It was shorter, squatter… but even that was simply relative, because it was nearly as big as Beast.
“You think you’re bad? Coming in this place like you’re gonna start trouble? Like you’re some thug? That’s it, isn’t it? You’re just a punk who doesn’t get that this isn’t a game.” Beast looks at the alien. “Well, all right, ‘thug,’” he sneered. “Let’s go.”
The alien started climbing the stairs, coming right at him. Beast grabbed the stair rails on either side, elevated his upper body and swung his legs into the alien. He felt a shudder of pain up and down as his feet impacted with the armor, but it was enough to send the creature tumbling backwards down the stairs. It lay in the hatchway, stunned for a moment.
Beast seized the opportunity to vault to the bottom of the stairs. He grabbed the hatchway door, which had been broken open by the alien but was still on its hinges. He swung it as hard and as fast as he could. The alien’s helmeted head was in between the hatchway and the door, and Beast slammed it with all his strength. It jolted the alien, causing its body to spasm.
Beast’s strategy was simple: crack the helmet, get it off, have access to the creature’s head and then pummel it into a fine paste.
He pulled back the door and slammed it a second time, a third time, but by the fourth the alien had gained control of itself. It caught the door and shoved it back wide. Beast jumped away, narrowly avoiding being crushed between the door and the bulkhead.
Beast came around fast and lunged at the alien, but it was too quick for him. Having regained its feet, it picked Beast up and threw him forward. Beast banged hard against the stairs and lay there for a moment, dazed. Then, digging his feet into the stairs, he propelled himself back as the alien lunged for him.
He crab-walked up the stairs, hurrying as fast as he could. The alien came after him, its armored feet clanking heavily on every step like a hammer being struck against a gong.
Beast got to his feet just as the alien almost reached the upper deck. While having the high ground advantage, Beast drove his fists into the creature’s armor as if he were working a body bag. All he managed to do, however, was break a couple of his knuckles. The alien simply stood there, gripping on to the railings for additional traction, taking all the punishment that Beast could dole out and providing no visible reaction at all.
Then, with an almost casual sweep of its backhand, the alien knocked Beast aside.
Beast slammed up against the bulkhead again. He almost sagged to the ground, the world whirling about him, but he managed to keep his feet.
“This isn’t going as well as I’d hoped,” he muttered.
The alien came up the stairs and slowly advanced on Beast. It was hard to be certain about its body language but it didn’t appear at all concerned that Beast would pose a threat for much longer.
Beast backed up, his mind racing, trying to think of something that would hurt it, something that could crack open that damned helmet. Then his eyes fell upon a fire axe affixed to the wall. He yanked it off its brackets and charged the alien.
The human is wielding something. Since it has not yet been proven to be any sort of known threat, the object in its hands is glowing green. Best to test its efficacy in order to determine whether it can, in fact, be a danger to any member of the Regents.