S. D. Perry - Aliens 06 - Labyrinth.pdf - S. D. Perry - widez2

ALIENS

LABYRINTH

Aliens - 06

S. D. Perry

(An Undead Scan v1.0)

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I

fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him,

down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind; and in

the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running

laughter.

—Francis Thompson, 1893

Prologue

There was a darkness gathered, a dull measure of black even in the murky half-light that

shadowed the nest. Movement, measured and animal, there in the unclean chamber. An unfolding of

form, a sound like bone against bone — and then the low, feral hiss… inhuman. Alien.

The others, the lucky ones — they were surely dead. Or beyond knowing what life was, it was

the same; insanity had smiled down at them, lent its fevered, mindless touch to the last vestiges of

their souls. His family, his friends. He had heard, felt it deep inside, had known it as his heart died

and his reason cried for release, echoing the distant, demented screams of his loved ones.

The midnight creature moved closer, followed by another. He felt a glimmer of something like

hope, a delicate glow in his mind’s eye. Could it be death, then? Were there miracles in hell?

There was nothing left to fight for, no reason to try. The demons reached out for him, hard and

black, and he offered no resistance, nothing but a twitch at the corners of his mouth, a strange lifting

that came unbidden and unanticipated—

A grin. When all of your senses have been brutally raped in the dark, all you’ve cherished taken

away… death was redundant.

And he was so startled by the revelation that he started to laugh, not even hearing the hoarse and

awful croaks that spilled from his shredded throat and reverberated down through the labyrinth of

his pain.

For a time there was nothing, the blankness of absolute space with no stars, no movement. Void.

And then at the end of eternity, a single pinpoint of flashing green, sudden and beautiful in the

darkness, a chime of motion and light, a birdsong — followed closely by a bitter, sticky taste like

ancient sour sweat.

Crespi raised his eyebrows and then slowly blinked, squinting at the dim lights overhead. The

pulse of green reappeared, a blinking cursor on the comp screen at his feet, joined by a distinctly

annoying chirp. Much uglier in reality. His eyelids drifted down, back to the sweet abyss—

Beep!

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, and sat up slowly. Felt that unfocused hatred for being forced awake.

He glared blearily at a spot on the floor for a time, fully aware of every ache in every muscle; he

itched but didn’t have the energy to scratch and his mouth tasted like an old boot. Almost a year

older, and he felt every minute of it.

The few… the proud… the fatigued…

The comp bleated again and Crespi scowled in its direction, then peered closer at the focusing

words.

//Wake up, Tony, I’m six months older than you were. O Death, where is Thy stinger? Ouch!

2467He//

Crespi smiled in spite of himself. Heller. “Uh huh. Not funny, honey.” He yawned widely and

reached for the code slates racked up beneath the screen, then tapped at transmit.

His voice was uneven, his throat dry, but he did his best to sound official. Heller was a wit, good

for morale, but tended to be a bit too casual with his superiors. On the other hand, he was a pilot;

seemed to be some kind of requisite…

“This is Colonel Doctor Crespi. How are we?” He raised his arms over his head and stretched,

yawning again.

“This is Lieutenant Colonel Heller. We’re fine, sir. Arkharn is due to dock with Innominata at

0900—” There was a pause, and Crespi could hear the grin in the pilot’s voice. “How did you sleep,

sir?”

Crespi scruffed at his stubbled cheeks. “Like plastic. Anything to release?”

“Yes, sir. Coming through now.”

Crespi shook his head and nocked his slate into the comp’s drive as the screen flickered up

codes. Eyes only.

“Thank you, uh, Lieutenant Colonel. I’ll see you on the bridge in twenty.”

“Sir.”

Heller went out in a screech of static that probably wasn’t accidental. Crespi rapped at the

discom, frowning. Eyes only? That’ll give the crew something to chew on, as if there wasn’t enough

already.

He sat on the edge of his sleep chamber and printed the screen, grimacing at the low ache in his

abdominal muscles. Not enough time to work out, not if he wanted a shower…

The message glowed to life and Crespi forgot about exercise for the moment. Coded NPII7, top

priority.

S. D. Perry - Aliens 06 - Labyrinth.pdf

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