Alien Nation #3 - Body and Soul (2 page)

The one he’d called Perkins regarded him suspiciously for a moment. “Well, get a move on,” he said, finally.

River inclined his head slightly, and the two of them entered the building.

[
“You’re getting the hang of dealing with humans?”
] asked Penn. [
“Why bother getting into fights with them? They’re not worth it.”
]

[
“True enough.”
] acknowledged River. [
“They’re worthwhile for grunt work. That’s about it. Did you see the way that idiot tripped over his own feet getting to his car? He thought we were going to kill him.”
]

[
“He overrates his own importance”
] Penn said with a chuckle. [
“As a living man who was bribed, he must keep silent. His presence as a corpse could speak volumes.”
]

[
“I wish he’d kept silent about telling the subject of Tenctonese involvement”
] River grumbled. [
“Why give a hint?”
]

[
“Why worry?”
] Penn said. From his sport jacket pocket, he removed a small, narrow case. He flipped it open to reveal a syringe, carefully seated in a felt outline. [
“There’s one of him against the two of us. How difficult can this be?”
]

River nodded in agreement, and then he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, palming a lighter with his other hand. He started to remove a cigarette from the pack, and Penn abruptly reached over and batted the cigarettes from his hand.

[
“What are you getting involved with that human garbage for?”
] he demanded.

[
“What’s your problem? These are specially made. Rates highest in tar and nicotine.”
]

[
“We dress like them. Talk like them. The more time we spend acquiring their habits, the less time we’ll have for maintaining our own. Whatever happened to racial purity?”
]

River made a scoffing noise, but elected not to press the point. He dropped his lighter back into his jacket pocket and said nothing more about it.

They made their way through the building, moving softly and silently.

A musty smell hung as heavily as the silence. River and Penn ignored the monstrosities that lined the walls of the building.

The target lay upon the huge, metal frame bed. Next to it was a large pitcher with water and a carton of unrefrigerated milk. The target was curled up, his back to them, his chest rising and falling slowly indicating that he was clearly asleep. Situated directly next to the bed was a crib, the small form within obscured by a pink blanket.

There was a single window above, and moonlight streamed through, illuminating the sleeping pair.

River and Penn approached carefully, trying to be as smooth and unnoticeable as possible. As they passed the crib, Penn cast a glance into it . . .

And gasped.

River shot him a fierce look, for the sound was like a thunderclap in the stillness. But the figure on the bed hadn’t stirred. River now took a glance, as well, and immediately understood what it was that had prompted the sound from Penn.

He turned to Penn and mouthed a very human word,
“Wow.”

Penn nodded in agreement, and then turned his attention to the larger figure on the bed. He had the syringe out, and started to lean forward to make the injection. Then his eyes caught something on the wall. Something had been scribbled there in the unmistakable alphabet of the Tenctonese.

Three simple words that spoke volumes to the two Newcomers.

Penn turned to River, his expression one of utter mystification.

[
“How did he—?”
] he started to ask.

But he didn’t get the entire question out.

The occupant of the large metal bed had turned with a speed that seemed completely at odds with his bulk. Still on his back, but with his eyes open and blazing, he reached out with one large hand that clamped firmly around Penn’s throat.

River took a step back, alarmed, and as the bed’s occupant rose from his faked slumber, so did Penn rise with him as well; his legs pinwheeled helplessly. The syringe slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor.

River had been informed, of course, of what they would be facing. But hearing about it and encountering it firsthand were two entirely different things.

Penn was being suspended in the air by a creature that looked, for all intents and purposes, like a Newcomer. But he was a Newcomer the likes of which had never been seen before. He was fully seven feet tall, wearing what appeared to be some sort of green jumpsuit, which was clearly too small on him.

His expression was a mixture of fury and fear.

[
“Do something!”
] shouted Penn frantically, pummeling the massive forearm that held him.

The giant shook Penn in the way that a cat might shake a bird that it has just captured. Penn emitted a high-pitched shriek, the world spinning around him. And then the giant turned and flung Penn with, frighteningly enough, only a small measure of the strength he truly possessed.

Penn hurtled across the warehouse and crashed into some crates. There was the sound of splintering wood and Penn lay there, a low moan being the only indication that he was still alive.

The giant turned and faced River. The huge Newcomer’s mouth was drawn back in a grimace. Fear was vanishing from his face with every passing moment, leaving behind only the anger.

River took a quick step to try and angle toward an exit, but the giant matched his motion. This caused River to halt in his tracks, because no matter which way he moved, the giant would manage to head him off.

He glanced in the direction of the crib. Newspapers, rags, and an old soiled sheet were scattered nearby.

The giant followed his gaze, his obvious concern for the occupant of the crib momentarily overwhelming everything else.

It was at that moment that a sudden inspiration hit River. And with the inspiration, just as quickly, came the action.

With the giant’s gaze momentarily averted, River stabbed a hand into his jacket pocket and came up with the cigarette lighter that Penn had so cavalierly dismissed. He offered up a very quick prayer to a Tenctonese god and flicked the lighter.

The flame came up on the very first try.

The giant’s scrutiny swung back to River, attracted by the flickering of the lighter. He frowned, puzzled and uncomprehending.

River made a quick sideways throw, and the lighter skidded across the floor and nestled comfortably amidst the newspapers and rags directly under the crib. Immediately the trash went up.

The giant screamed, a roar of inarticulate, horrified rage. River chose that moment to try and bolt.

He had not reckoned with the giant’s fearsome single-mindedness. Moreover, he had not properly taken into account the giant’s reach. River had taken three steps when the giant’s knuckles crashed squarely into his nose.

There was the sound of shattering bone and suddenly River was airborne. He crashed to the ground, dazed, the world whirling. As it happened, he was only a few feet away from Penn.

The sounds of the giant’s hysterical screams now mingled with the crackling of the fire.

He grabbed at the crib, momentarily beaten back by the rapidly rising flames, and then—heedless of his own safety—one of his massive hands clamped around the crib railing, and he yanked as hard as he could.

Truthfully, it didn’t require all that much strength. The crib wasn’t especially heavy. It skidded across the floor at the first pull, shooting safely away from the flame and ricocheting off the large bed that the giant had been lying on.

The giant scooped the occupant of the crib into his arms. For the briefest of moments, an expression that transcended human concepts of devotion passed across the creature’s face. Then he clutched his precious cargo to his massive chest and, with a last howl of defiance, charged toward an exit.

Perkins was getting impatient.

He also had to take a leak—badly. He’d swilled down several beers during the long, boring drive from the city.

“Screw it,” he muttered. If the two slags felt like they had all the time in the world, why should he have to suffer?

He moved away from the truck to a corner of the building, discreetly blocking himself from view, and relieved himself. He gave the deep, relaxed kind of sigh that one can give only when one’s bladder is being alleviated from tremendous stress.

And then, as he started to zip himself up, he smelled something.

Something burning.

At that moment, the door several feet away from him exploded outward.

His mouth dropped open in surprise as a giant Newcomer burst out, almost knocking the door off its hinges. The creature was cradling something in his arms, and his huge head was swiveling back and forth like a conning tower.

Then he spotted the truck.

The giant charged across the driveway, and that was when the immensity of a situation gone wrong fully occurred to Perkins. Some major mishap had occurred in the building, and what was supposed to be a simple pickup operation had become a debacle.

If the giant got away, Perkins was going to have to return to his employer, explain precisely what had gone wrong, and take responsibility for it.

It was not so much bravery, or even dedication to duty, so much as just plain fear of what would happen if he didn’t take every possible step to salvage this mess, that prompted Perkins’s next actions.

The giant had already leaped into the cab of the truck. For one moment Perkins thought that maybe his life was going to be simple. That the giant would sit there in utter futility, unaware of how to pilot the vehicle, until the other two slags showed up and did what they were supposed to do—namely, overpower the damned giant and get him safely under wraps.

Perkins’s hope was dashed when he heard the clicking of the engine. One of the most annoying things about most slags is how quickly the damned things learned, and the giant was apparently no exception.

Perkins was unarmed, but not undetermined. He scampered toward the van and, just as he got within reach, heard the engine roar to life.

He leaped desperately, snagging the back of the van just as the vehicle lurched forward. The giant was a fast learner, but Grand Prix material he was not. The van started, stopped, and then pitched forward again. The motion of the van accomplished for Perkins what he had been trying to do in the first place—specifically, get inside.

He tumbled into the interior of the van’s cargo bay. Inside were a couple of bolted-down gurneys that had been prepared for the giant to lie on once he was inside.

The giant wasn’t going to need it. He was in the front, driving. But Perkins latched onto it, holding on desperately so that he wouldn’t be thrown back out of the van. As he did so, the rear doors of the van swung back around on their well-oiled hinges and slammed shut, closing him in. When this happened, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least he didn’t have to be concerned about being thrown out the back of a moving vehicle.

The van was picking up speed. Perkins thudded and thumped around inside, tossed around like a poker chip as the van skidded out onto the main road and roared toward . . .

Where?

Sealed in the back, Perkins had absolutely no clue as to where they were going. But at least, whenever they got there, he would be able to inform his boss that, yes, things had not gone quite according to plan. But he, Perkins, was still on top of things.

At least for the moment.

River felt an earthquake, and it was shouting his name.

Then his mind focused in, and he stared dazedly up at Penn. [
“What’s . . . ?”
]

[
“Will you come on?!”
] shouted Penn angrily.

And then Penn actually managed to catch a break.

His despairing gaze noticed a literal godsend. On the wall to his right, a fire extinguisher was serenely perched. If the damned thing could have spoken, it would undoubtedly have said something along the lines of, “It took you long enough to notice me.”

Penn stood up quickly, momentarily forgetting about River. The result was that the semiconscious Newcomer’s head thudded to the floor with an impressive
crack.
Penn paid it no heed, for he had other things on his mind. He crossed quickly to the fire extinguisher, grabbed it off the wall, and prayed that the idiot guard had seen to it that the thing was maintained. Otherwise the fire was going to blaze out of control, and River might very well be toast.

But Penn caught his second break in as many minutes. He flipped the fire extinguisher over, aimed, and fired. Moments later the roaring fire had been smothered. All that was left was a thick, acrid smell and a faint hissing and popping noise.

Quickly he turned back to River and knelt down beside him. He winced at the blood that was pouring from the Newcomer’s nose. It was out of joint as well. Clearly the giant had broken it.

There was no time to carp over it, however. [
“Come on.”
] he clicked, and hauled the groggy River to his feet. River stumbled momentarily and then righted himself.

Seconds later, they were out on the road, just in time to see the van heading in the direction of Los Angeles.