Page 10 of Alien's Eternal Mate

“Calm down, Lt. Riel,” Buzos said. “Just because the entity is strange to us does not mean it is hostile. It might be confused and scared. Pointing weapons at it, or even turning them on, is a bad idea.”

“I think I’ll keep my weapon hot just the same.”

“I think that I am in command of this expedition,” Buzos said firmly. “I do not believe there is any danger as of yet. Power down your weapons.”

Riel looked as if he wanted to bite Buzos’s half metal head off, but he complied.

“Shut it down,” he growled through gritted teeth. His men reluctantly obeyed.

“I must agree with Riel, Buzos. Even if this creature is not hostile, it could still be dangerous in other ways. Distance and sensible precautions seem like?—”

“Enough. I will not be lectured by an inferior intellect marred by xenophobia. Everyone please, project an aura of calm as we greet our new friend.”

A saurian head, more machine than flesh, thrust out from the pod. It opened up to display a maw of bronze teeth. It took me a moment to realize they were gears spinning at high speed rather than organic food mastication growths.

“Look at its mouth,” I gasped.

“It could be used for tunneling or some other benign purpose. You really must stop assuming the worst, Doctor Reed.”

The alien pulled itself fully out of the pod. Some part of my mind not ruled by terror noted there were still no openings on the pod itself. The thing must have somehow moved its molecules through solid matter.

It lay there, looking almost like an ebon skinned jungle panther from earth. Servos whirred as a cyclopean red light flicked about on top of its domed head. It seemed more machine than animal.

“Doctor Buzos, this creature bears none of the signs of intelligent life. Its hands are more rightfully claws, meaning it cannot manipulate tools. I do not think?—”

“If he talks again, smack him,” Buzos said with an exasperated sigh. Riel grinned his toothy grin and took a step closer to me. “And remember everyone, keep thinking positive, non-threatening thoughts.”

The creature struggled to its feet, limbs splayed wide in an awkward dance off with gravity. It nearly toppled, then held steady. I heard the distinct sound of gyroscopic balancers inside of its chassis. I refused to think of the amalgam of flesh and chrome as a body.

“Yes, that’s good. Someone get a camera drone going, I want to record this on holo.”

Caraway deployed a fist-sized orb from his belt, which hovered near Buzos as he took a step toward the creature.

“Now I’ll give the universal greeting. Any child of the Precursors will know the rhythm of the language, even if they don’t understand the words.”

He turned toward the creature, offering his red-scaled hand.

“Ba weep gra na weep?—”

The creature moved like a striking viper. Quicker than an eyeblink, the cyborg monstrosity clamped its jaws down onto Buzos’ hand. I heard the servo motors winding up, and knew what would happen next. I couldn’t tear my eyes away though I truly wanted to.

“Go hot!” Riel bellowed.

The Vakutan soldiers quickly powered up their weapons. Riel himself aimed a kick for the creature’s flank. His boot bounced off as if he’d struck a skyscraper’s support pillar.

His cry of surprise and pain mingled with a wet buzzing as the creature’s gear teeth spun faster than the speed of sound. I threw my arm up over my face as a deluge of bloody chunks and bits of cloth showered our position.

Buzos didn’t scream, which somehow made it even more horrifying. He just stared at the mangled, shredded stump that used to be his hand, blood spurting out with the beating of his heart.

The creature’s movements smoothed out, and it stood straighter. Its central eye glowed brighter than it had before.

“It’s converting the mass of his hand into energy,” I said in disgusted awe.

“Light it up!”

Caraway grabbed my arm and dragged me to the floor as the Vakutan soldiers opened up with their combat rifles. Shards of metal zipped through the air so quickly they took on a molten, red glow. The projectiles tore into the creature’s carapace, leaving ghastly holes. One of its four arms dropped away, spilling some blood but mostly viscous brown machine oil.

The men continued firing, and I kept thinking that the creature must surely fall. Nothing could withstand such an onslaught. Yet when their magazines ran dry and their guns issued clicks rather than deadly slivers of magma, the creature still stood.

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