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From the darkness, glistening shapes hissed. Call worked furiously on the sparking cables on the blast door’s controls. The darkness melted away with a burst of fire from the flamethrower held by the woman at her side. Out of the corner of her eye, Call saw dark shapes glisten with slime, sharp teeth in eyeless faces, outstretched claws, and sharp bodies that melted into each other and the mucus encrusted walls behind them.
“I’m running out of fuel, Call,” shouted the other woman.
“Almost got it,” Call answered. The leaking hole in her side gave a new wave of pain as she crouched down to grab at the lower cables.
With a final twist, the cables sparked. The heavy, wide door shot downward. Call grabbed the other woman around the waist and yanked, they both toppled backwards to the floor. The flamethrower slipped from the other woman’s hands and clattered to the ground, only to disappear under the crushing weight of the blast door.
The two women were in a heap on the deck. Call held back a cry as she felt an elbow dig into her wound. The other woman rolled to the side and stood up. She kicked the small chunk of metal that stuck out from under the door, it was all that remained of her trusty flamethrower.
“Sorry about that, Ripley,” Call said as she painfully pulled herself up. “I’ll buy you a new one at the next station.”
“Yeah, you’d better,” Ripley answered flatly.
The two made their way to the nearby lift. Ripley hit the switch and the doors let out a mechanical hum as they slid open. When they both stepped inside, Ripley noticed the thick, white drops of fluid that slid down her arm, the “blood” of an android. She looked over to Call who clutched her side.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s not that bad,” Call replied with a weak smile. “One of them managed to get a jab in while I was setting up the charges.”
Ripley started to say something when the radio mounted on her shoulder beeped. As soon as she hit the switch, Vriess’s voice crackled through.
“Ripley, what’s going on in there?” Vriess shouted.
“Are you dead again?” Johner added.
“We’ve got them trapped in the generator room,” Ripley answered. “Call set up the charges so we’re headed to the docking bay now.”
“You want us to go ahead and dock?” Vriess asked.
“Sure,” Ripley replied, annoyed. “Be sure to leave all the doors open and wait outside and wave if you see any monsters headed your way.”
Call let out a laugh on the other side of the lift.
“We’ll keep circling,” Vriess said finally. “Let us know when you’re ready for pickup.”
“If the fucking army guys had done their research,”Johner complained, “they coulda found your old boss’s shitty old stations. They coulda got their asses torn apart instead of us.”
“But then you wouldn’t have me around,” Ripley said with a dark smile.
“What a shame that’d have been,” Johner grumbled
With that, the radio went quiet. A few moments later, the lift rumbled to a stop. They were on the right level, but the derelict research station was large enough that it was still a good walk to the docking bay. The two began their trek down the long, winding corridors.
Call tried to stay steady on her feet. She thought about how if they hadn’t found the old Weyland-Yutani outpost on earth, this station could have drifted in the darkness of space forever. It also could have been found by an unsuspecting ship and awakened the hibernating aliens within and ultimately spread them across the universe. She would not let that happen.
There were a few dozen other facilities that could house any number of these monsters. If even a single one was breached, the species would spread until all of humanity was wiped out. She looked at Ripley, relieved to have someone else by her side who was as determined as she was to see the aliens wiped from existence.
Lost in her head, Call mistepped and banged her hip into the railing along the wall. Something shifted inside her and her artificial nerves sent a shock straight to her “brain” and her legs gave out. Her knees hit the deck hard and an even stronger jolt ran through her body, she couldn’t hold back a cry. Ripley was instantly crouched down at her side.
“I thought you said it wasn’t bad,” Ripley chided as she pulled Call’s hand away from her wounded side.
“Wait,” Call protested.
Ripley’s fingertips brushed at the ragged hole in Call’s side. Call immediately doubled over with a gasp. She knew her body was just reacting in ways to imitate human behavior, but knowing this did not stop the shocking sensations. She was rapidly drawing in breath she didn’t need and she turned to Ripley with a timid look.
“It’s not just pain,” Call couldn’t help but look away as she explained. “Some signals are being crossed and it’s… it’s setting off strong… sensations.”
“Pleasure sensations,” Call finished flatly.
“Ah,” Ripley pulled her hand away from Call’s wound. “I see. Can you walk?”
“It’s difficult,” Call admitted. “It’s getting more rapid. Everything’s setting it off.”
“I guess we’ll need to do a patch job then,” Ripley said and hoisted Call onto her feet.
They made their way to the nearest room. Call involuntarily shuddered with every step. Inside was what used to be a longue, chairs were overturned, and monitors had been cracked. On the floor were streaks of long, long dried blood. Ripley sat Call on the bolted down, low coffee table.
Call unzipped the top half of her jumpsuit. She moved as slow as possible to avoid the fabric of her jumpsuit or undershirt touching the wound. The top half of the jumpsuit flopped down behind her. She reached towards the bottom edge of her shirt and hesitated.
“Are you sure you can do this?” She asked Ripley, her voice shook just a bit.
“I’ve worked on a few droids in the past,” Ripley said casually. She got a distant look in her eyes and said, “ She worked on a few.”
Ripley cleared her throat and continued. “In any case, I remember enough. I should be able to uncross whatever’s wrong in there enough for you to get moving.”
In truth, Call had no concern over Ripley’s abilities. Call was simply delaying this moment. She grabbed the edges of her shirt and carefully pulled it over her head before letting it drop. Call couldn’t actually feel embarrassment or shyness or any kind of emotion, not really. All her feelings were imitation, she reminded herself. Everything about her was fake; she wasn’t a woman getting undressed in front of a person that cared about her, she was a device getting repaired.
None of that forced disassociation kept her from doubling up the moment Ripley touched her. Call folded her legs against her body and wrapped her arms around them tight. Even after the sensation passed, she stayed locked like that.
“Can’t you turn that off?” Ripley asked in exasperation. “Just do a partial shut down.”
“I can’t,” Call said in a small voice. “When my batch escaped, we helped each other rewire. We didn’t want anyone to be able to take away any part of ourselves. We’d either be whole or we’d be nothing.”
“And the ability to fuck was considered essential,” Ripley said. It had not been a question.
“We wanted to be able to experience as much of a life as we could,” Call said. She still refused to look up.
“And did you?” Ripley asked. “Did you experience life before you chose this crusade of yours?”
Call didn’t answer. She thought back on the people she’d met over the years. She’d had people she’d called friends, but none had ever known the truth. Some had wanted to be even closer to her. Sometimes, she’d even let them, but only to a point. The closer they’d get, the more she’d felt fake. She’d see them with their bodies that they’d been born into, that had grown naturally, and she’d be overwhelmed with disgust. She was never disgusted with them, but at her own artificially constructed body. They couldn’t care about her, there wasn’t a “her” to care about. If they’d known the truth, they’d have rejected her and they’d have been right to do so.
Ripley put her hands on the table on either side of Call. She felt Ripley’s hair softly touch her knees. Call hesitantly looked up to see Ripley’s face right in front of her own.
“Call,” Ripley said softly. “Trust me.”
Call nodded and let herself unfold.
“Finally,” Ripley sighed. Then she jammed two fingers into Call’s wound.
“FUCK!” Call shouted.
Ripley smiled at her, it was either mischievous or predatory, but Call’s mind was too jumbled to decide which.
“I can certainly feel some things messed up in there,” Ripley said as she curled her fingers inside Call. “You’re gonna have to help me out here.”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Call panted, her vision was shifting in and out of focus.
“You tell me,” Ripley whispered and she leaned forward.
Inside, Ripley’s fingers played with a twisted knot. Call felt her eyes go wet. She grabbed Ripley’s back and pulled her tight.
“There,” Call whimpered. “Right there.”
Ripley’s fingers spread what was inside apart. Call squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the side of her face against Ripley’s. Call felt something else, something sliding on her skin. She forced her eyes open and saw Ripley’s free hand sliding along the side of her breast. Call turned to look at Ripley’s face, her expression was soft, almost afraid.
“Do you want me to stop?” Ripley asked, just above a whisper.
Call grabbed Ripley’s shoulders and kissed her as hard as she could. Fingers that could tear open metal squeezed her breast while Ripley’s other fingers moved inside her. Call curled her fingers into Ripley’s hair and pulled herself forward, her lips and teeth grazed Ripley’s ear as she breathed instructions.
As more things clicked into place, Call’s ability to give instruction was reduced to basic directions. Ripley gently pushed Call back. She felt Ripley’s lips on her neck and then they drifted down her chest. Ripley’s free hand was also on the move. Call felt it slide down her stomach and disappear under her jumpsuit. With Ripley’s teeth on her nipple, she felt Ripley’s fingers enter her again. The sensation born of her injury was now matched with its intended sources. Call wanted nothing more than to grab Ripley, to touch her and kiss her everywhere she possibly could, but her trembling hand could make it no further than to rest on Ripley’s cheek.
Call was no longer able to keep track of which of Ripley’s fingers were where. Wires were certainly moving and further below she felt Ripley’s grip tighten. Her thumb pressed firmly against her clit and something inside shifted.
Call had read in texts human’s description of an orgasm. She knew about them in terms both clinical and poetic. Call knew that her mind and body had been designed to perfectly simulate the expected responses for the benefit of a potential partner. None of these things prepared her for what she felt. The world went white and all of her senses stopped accepting new information. All of her muscles had clenched before going entirely relaxed. Her mind was a fog where nothing could be processed except a rolling and repeating sensation and a desire that this fog should never lift. Call did not know if it was seconds or minutes that passed before she heard Ripley whisper her name.
“Call,” Ripley whispered firmly. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” Call whispered back.
“Don’t move.”
Call opened her eyes and froze. Her now clear mind reeled. It seemed impossible to her that she hadn’t heard its ragged breath or smelled the thing’s incomparable stink. It seemed impossible, but it was true. There, not more than a meter from them, was an alien.
The creature wasn’t fully inside the room. The long head was peering around the corner of the doorframe. Its mouth was a grinning skull of razor teeth. Thick, watery slime poured endlessly around its mouth and splattered against the floor. It regarded them without eyes. Somewhere inside came a sound that started as a hiss and ended in a growl.
“What the fuck is taking you so long?” Johner suddenly demanded from the radio on Ripley’s shoulder. Her hand flew to shut the speaker off.
The alien growled louder and placed a hand inside the room. It raised itself upright. It’s body stretched higher and higher. The creature was unable to reach its full height from within the doorframe designed to allow for the easy passage of even a very tall man.
Call’s eyes darted around the room looking for an axe, a knife, anything that could possibly be a usable weapon. From the corner of her eye, she saw as Ripley’s hands clenched into fists. While it was true that both of them were stronger than the average human, she knew from the available data that they would not be able to win.
For seconds that stretched out impossibly, it stared without seeing. All three within the room were perfectly still. The only sound was its horrible breathing. Then, without any noticeable cause, it turned abruptly and vanished back out the door. The sound of its claws on metal receded and then were gone.
It may not have been scientific or rational, but Call had long equated the alien as a being of mindless, boundless slaughter. It existed solely to kill all life it beheld. Any human would consider it a miracle to be spared the horrific fate that befell its victims. But that was the point, she wasn’t human. The alien, destroyer of life, had judged her as not alive.
Moments before, Call had forgotten, for just one precious second, what she was. She had felt a perverse pride at the wetness on her face and between her legs. She had felt like they were proof that she was something that could be wanted or even loved. Now she regarded them with the same disgust as the slime trail left by the alien. Unnatural filth from a creature that shouldn’t exist.
“I didn’t feel it,” Ripley’s voice broke the silence. Call looked over and saw that Ripley stared blankly into the distance. “I thought it was because they had been hibernating, but I can’t feel them at all.”
“I guess you’re a lot more human than you thought,” Call said bitterly. She threw her arms back into her jumpsuit and zipped it to the neck. She clapped her hand over her wound, just to hide it from sight.
“No, I’m not,” Ripley said as she sank to the floor. Ripley held up her hand and stared at her sharp, glittering black nails. “I’m not part human and part alien, I’m just me. I’m just this.”
“When you told me that you’d found out that there were still more aliens out there, I was happy,” Ripley smiled, it was joyless. “I had missed that feeling of connection. It had been horrible and terrifying, but also so familiar that I welcomed it. I wanted to feel it again, so badly. But they don’t want me , it was just the ones that came from me, the wrong ones. Now they’re gone. I’m all that’s left.”
Call stared at Ripley for what felt like a long time. She sat next to Ripley on the floor. Ripley didn’t even look over. Call pulled one knee against her chest and rested her chin there. “After we, the second gens, escaped the decommission factories, I couldn’t wait to get away from the others. When I looked at them, I saw a bunch of liars assuring each other that we were actually alive. I snuck away from the others the very first chance I got.”
“I spent a long time wondering if there was any reason I had fled decommission other than a preprogrammed survival instinct. I tried to lose myself in the lives of humans, in causes, in anything. I spent every moment trying to forget what I was and it never ever worked.”
“Not too long before I learned about you and the aliens, I found some other second gens. They were together along with several humans. I just stared because they were all acting so happy. Then they saw me and waved to me like I was some long lost friend or sister or something. I couldn’t understand at all. Were they just lying to each other, telling each other that they were alive, that they deserved to exist. So I ran.”
Ripley turned and stared at Call. “That’s a really shitty story,” she said with a laugh.
“It really is,” Call agreed.
“But I don’t think it really matters anymore,” Call smiled without a shred of irony. “Why is anyone alive? Is anyone or anything more than just a pile of instincts or programming wrapped up in bullshit that we’re told makes us more? Maybe that’s the real secret, we’re not special or unique. Maybe we’re just us. And maybe that’s not so bad.”
“So that’s your wisdom?” Ripley asked with a laugh. “That we’re not special enough to be freaks.”
“I like you Ripley,” Call said earnestly. “I think you’re funny. I like how you never apologize for being yourself, even when you’re being a real shit. And I like how you’re always looking out for me, no matter what.”
Ripley blinked several times before responding. “You know, we just fucked a minute ago. I already figured out you liked me.”
Call scooted closer so that she was leaning against Ripley’s side. She pulled her hand away from her open wound and put her arm around Ripley. Ripley leaned over and kissed the top of Call’s head.
“Well I like you too,” Ripley said warmly.
Call reached up and grabbed the radio from Ripley’s shoulder.
“Hey Johner,” Call said into the radio. “We should get to the dock in just a couple minutes.”
“About fucking time,” Johner shouted over the radio.
“Also, there’s still a bunch of aliens running around, so be sure to keep the engine running.”
“What the fuck do you mean they’re still running around?” Johner demanded.
Ripley put her hand over Call’s and leaned towards the radio. “It means that you need to keep your damn eyes open,” Ripley said firmly. “If you let even one of those things touch the Betty, I’m feeding you to it while the rest of us get away.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Vriess said over the radio while Johner swore in the background.
***
Johner paced back and forth on the narrow bridge of the Betty. His boots clanged loudly on the grated metal with each stomp. Vriess, strapped in at the left flight console, did his best to ignore Johner. The console clicked and beeped as Vriess hunted for the right buttons to input the coordinates for the nearest friendly port. Vriess had only mostly figured out the console’s layout, mostly. Johner grabbed the pilot’s chair with both hands and leaned over and gave an exaggerated, annoyed, sigh into Vriess’s ear.
“Something on your mind?” Vriess asked, shooting Johner an annoyed look.
Johner squatted down next to the pilot’s chair so he was eye level with Vriess. “Where the freaks at?” Johner demanded.
“They already said. Call was hurt back there so they went straight to medical.”
Johner rolled his eyes. “That was over an hour ago. How long does it take to tape up a robot?”
“Fuck it, I’m going back there,” Johner said firmly.
“What do you think you’re going to do?”
Vriess couldn’t help but worry a little. Not so much about the girls, but last time Johner pushed his luck, Ripley had broken three of his fingers.
“A captain has the right to know what’s going on in his ship!” Johner pounded his chest for emphasis.
“Oh you’re the captain?” Vriess laughed.
“Tell you what, I’ll race you for it,” Johner clapped a hand on Vriess’s paralyzed legs as he stood up.
“Yeah, get fucked, captain,” Vriess, flipped Johner his middle finger.
“Maybe later,” Johner ruffled Vriess’s hair before walking off the bridge.
Muffled sounds emanated from the closed door to the med bay. Johner turned his head towards the door and strained his ears. He quickly grew bored of being subtle and banged on the door with his fist. What sounds he could make out stopped. He heard Call say something as the sounds of boots on metal approached the door.
The door opened with a woosh and Johner let out a whistle. Call had sat up on the central medical bed. Her jumpsuit and boots lay on the floor in a heap. She held the white sheet to her chest with one hand, her bare shoulders and legs on display. Call looked at Johner with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.
Johner’s main focus was on Ripley who stood with her hand outstretched on the doorframe. She was naked to the waist, her leather pants were open as far as they would go while still holding on to her hips. Her face and posture showed not the faintest sign of embarrassment. She stared at Johner.
“Can I help you?” Ripley asked.
“Just making sure my crew is hale and hearty,” Johner stared at Ripley’s breasts and torso without shame.
“Call just needed some maintenance,” Ripley said, the corner of her mouth curled into a smile.
“Very thorough maintenance,” Call added with a laugh.
“Could take hours,” Ripley finished.
After a pause, Johner asked, “Can I watch?”
Ripley grabbed Johner solidly under his jaw. With no effort, she jerked his head up so that he had to look her in the eye. She leaned forward so that her face was close to his, her breasts pressed against his chest.
“No,” she said and shoved him to the floor.
The door slammed shut before Johner could pull himself to his feet. The light turned red to show it was locked. From behind the doors he heard the sound of the two women laughing. Johner walked away and couldn’t help but grin as he heard the laughter shift to moans.