Alien: Inferno's Fall

by Philippa Ballantine

Genres: Science Fiction; Sci-fi Action & Adventure

Synopsis

A gargantuan horseshoe-shaped ship appears over the mining planet Shānmén, unleashing a black rain of death that creates Xenomorph-like monsters worse than the darkest of nightmares.

As war breaks out among the colonies, a huge ship appears over the UPP mining planet Shānmén, releasing a horror that yields hideous transformations. Rescue is too far away, and the colonists’ only hope appears in the form of the vessel Righteous Fury. It carries the Jackals—an elite mix of former Colonial Marines and Royal Marines. Led by Zula Hendricks, the Jackals seek to rescue the few survivors from the depths of the planet, but have they arrived on time?

 

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Release date: August 9, 2022

Publisher: Titan Books

Sample

1 H A R D   S I G N S

The rhythmic scream of the klaxon woke Toru McClintock-Riley from a dead sleep. She lurched out of her cot, bleary-eyed, bones and muscles aching from a twelve-hour shift down the Svarog mine.

Getting out of bed was usually a process, a series of stretches to convince her fifty-year-old body to comply. Yet outside, in other tents, sleep-deprived miners scrambled to alert. As she wiped her eyes and took an assessment of her family’s assigned geodome, she realized with a stomach-clenching lurch she was the only one there.

Toru forgot all her aches and pains as she shoved on her boots and pressed away any immediate panic. Where were her loved ones? They’d only been on Shānmén a couple of weeks, but that howling siren might be for them. She barreled out of the geodome to join the rush of sweaty, confused miners heading to Shaft Two.

The heat and humidity of the planet usually made her grumble and long for the cool temperatures below. This morning Toru didn’t even notice it, as she joined the mass of workers hustling to see what help they might offer.

Around her, miners and staff streamed out of geodomes like a nest of disturbed ants. They came from everywhere—from maintenance to the offices. Pumping her arms, gasping in the thick air, her feet leaden in her boots, Toru was swept along with the crowd.

In the chaos they passed the supply dome, and she caught her daughter’s voice calling out. Toru dodged out of the flow and jostle.

Lena Waipapa-Riley’s height and neatly braided dark hair was unmistakable. Toru let out a sob of relief. Her daughter carried a box of foil-wrapped ammonium nitrate fuel oil for their deep assault in Shaft One.

Nearby, their synthetic, Carter, placed explosive charges in a locked box onto the bed of the mine utility vehicle parked outside. His crafted, handsome face reflected concern, but he could not experience the visceral fear of a human worker.

Lena and her family of miners had arrived a short time before, setting up equipment and planning their assault on the deeper seams. Now, all that work would have to wait. The alarm meant that harvesting Eitr had once again claimed more lives. This was the dread the miners shared every day.

While the siren wailed on, Toru felt the first rumble. The echo of an explosion from beneath rose through her feet, shook her gut, and brought everything into sharp focus.

Carter’s eyes fluttered blankly for an instant as he tapped into the mine’s synthetic network. Still in silent communion with other AI, he turned unseeing toward the family and voiced the words that each of the seasoned miners already understood, deep in their bones.

“That was an explosion in Shaft Two.” It wasn’t in the area the Combine assigned them to work, but miners from Earth to the Weyland Isles still held to the code. When something went bad, everyone ran toward the problem—not away. Two other members of their family company, known collectively as the Knot, sat in the MUV’s cab, focusing their attention on Toru, waiting for her orders.

Bianca Ting-Riley—once married to Toru’s oldest son Oliver, now widowed—perched in the driver’s seat, her hard hat in place. The only member of the Knot to have military experience, she’d plied her trade for fifteen years as a sharpshooter for the Union of Progressive Peoples. Though it had been a huge part of her life, she never talked about those experiences.

Nathan Bennetts-Riley, Toru’s nephew, didn’t catch on as quickly as Bianca did, but when she handed him his hard hat, he jammed it on, too.

On instinct, Toru calculated where the other members of her team should be in relation to this new threat. Two Knot members were absent. Her daughter, Jīn Huā Deng, worked in comms—that section had been a mess when they arrived—while their minerals specialist, her cousin’s child Pinar Osman-Riley, would be on her way up from Shaft One. That special protective suit of hers could be damn useful.

Toru, Lena, and even Carter grabbed hard hats off the seats of the MUV and piled into the bed. It would be a bumpy ride, but they would get there first. Bianca punched the accelerator as far down as it would go.

Clever pilot that she was, she managed to not collect any concerned miners on the slope toward the tunnel head. She threaded the way with stunning accuracy among the half-dozen domes between them and Shaft Two.

Toru’s pulse thundered in her head. The hot air blasted her eyes and the MUV wobbled under them, but what lay ahead would be far worse. The group whipped past other miners, some still dirty from their last twelve-hour shift, many more awkwardly stuffing themselves into their overalls. Every single person, however, wore the same hardened expression.

Ahead of the humans were the synthetic reinforcements. Several Davids, still sporting their aprons from the cafeteria, joined a stream of Working Joes who’d been shifting supplies at the rear of the depot.

By the time Toru and her family reached the huge dome covering the shaft head, a small crowd of miners already gathered at the entrance. They helped other workers stagger out of the cage and onto the deck.

Dropping off the back of the MUV, Toru pushed through the as-yet thin crowd.

Petro Kozak, the mine manager, was absent. That didn’t surprise her. The minute she’d met him, she identified what kind of creature he was. Company all the way, with an eye on the bottom line, and never on safety.

The Jùtóu Combine managed an entire line of these tenuous facilities, with little to no oversight. Mine managers, far from central headquarters, liked to strip everything to bare bones, doing a little creative bookkeeping and pocketing the difference. Her first look at the Svarog mine had told her that Kozak took full advantage of the distance.

“Make a hole,” Toru shouted, her voice pitched to cut through the indistinct murmur.

“Clear the way!” Lena joined in, forcing her way through the press of concerned workers. “Where’s the safety manager, for fuck’s sake?”

Toru’s eyes raked through the dirty, upset, and growing crowd. She spotted the narrow form of Lester Whittaker with his back up against the rusted metal of the hoist. When Lena’s words reached him, he became a cornered animal desperate for an escape, but it was too late. She strode over to talk to him, as Toru shouldered her way toward the cage.

Slumped-over miners littered the entrance like an oil painting of hell, while Working Joe units moved in unison to reach them. They brought stretchers, and Toru joined the effort to muscle the injured and suffering onto them. The synthetics’ efficiency was a comfort in moments like these.

Arriving miners wanting to help their comrades dawdled at the mine head, accomplishing nothing but impeding aid. Since Whittaker seemed of negative use, Toru stepped into the gap. She’d worked many mines as safety manager in her younger days. This wasn’t her first explosion, and she knew the drill.

“Bianca, Nathan, help those Davids, get people back!” The last thing the situation needed was well-meaning miners crowding onto the deck—or worse, into the cage. Getting down on one knee, she grabbed the hand of the nearest fallen miner.

The Knot hadn’t been around long enough to form many bonds with the miners who were already working Svarog’s two deep shafts, but she’d met Mateo Moore on their first day. He’d introduced himself—which was unusual from the stoic types who chose mining as a profession—and made an impression on her with his youth and beaming smile.

“Mateo,” she said, “what happened? What did you see?”

His head of curling dark hair flicked her way, but his lips wore no smile. Instead, they stretched tight around his teeth, like a dog baring them in fear.

“Monsters, mi doe, monsters everywhere...” He let out a scream that bounced around the deck area, eliciting concerned shouts from the miners trying to see what happened. Those of his comrades who were still conscious howled, too.

“The teeth... the shadows with teeth...” the one next to him burbled.

No smell came up the shaft, but these reactions confirmed the situation. It had to be whitedamp. A thin line of smoke oozed like some charmed snake from below ground. Toru patted Matteo’s hand and thanked the Earth Mother that none of her family were in Shaft Two.

“Move these men off the deck,” she said, grabbing the front of Mateo’s stretcher and leading the way.

Back in the coal mines of Earth, whitedamp was a deadly problem, and Eitr ran in seams that yielded that same risk. Still, this needn’t have happened.

As the Joes and the miners pulled the injured back off the deck and laid them on the bare soil, Toru patted the young man down. He’d lost not only his hard hat but also the carbon monoxide sensor, which should be attached to the shoulder of his overalls.

“Carter,” Toru yelled over her shoulder.

The synthetic, taller than either the Davids or Joes, strode across to her.

“Yes, Toru?”

“Bring me Whittaker, now!”

Carter turned and left, then returned a moment later, his hand locked on the arm of the safety manager. A red-faced Lena followed.

Whittaker’s eyes were wide. Kozak had picked someone inexperienced—that much was obvious. Both managers must have hoped the dice would roll their way, and no one would have to deal with an accident of this scope. In Toru’s experience, though, mismanagement and skimping on safety always led to disaster.

“Where’s his CO sensor?” She pointed down to Mateo.

The look Toru got in return told her everything, and the pit in her stomach grew hot with kindled anger.

“That’s... that’s not in the budget,” Whittaker stammered. “We have sensors in the tunnels, so we didn’t need...”

Toru locked her fingers around the stretcher, keeping her hands from reaching for his neck. As a cog in the machine, he wasn’t worth wasting Combine points.

“Those fixed sensors fail when there’s this much ground water,” she choked out. “I’ve just been here a few weeks and I damn well know that!”

Whittaker’s face twisted in fear. The miners clustered around them overheard that conversation. The safety manager might be a fool, but he knew the history of people in his position. From the earliest days of mining, workers dealt with shoddy management in their own way.

Fortunately for Whittaker, a security team arrived. Armed with newly issued PPZ-49 submachine guns—lovingly known as ‘strike breakers’—standardissue 3-D printed frontier revolvers, and the brand new EVI-87 Zvezda plasma rifle, they rolled up on the shaft head. Armed like that, they weren’t there to assist in rescue efforts.

The chief of security, a square block of a man named Jerome Galen, scanned the confusion.

“Need some help there, Whittaker?”

Relief washed over the safety manager’s face. He glanced back at Toru, sporting a smirk in response.

“I think we’re good, Galen. Just a health and safety issue.”

The dark expressions on the miners grew more fixed. They might not take their frustrations and anger out on the management right now, but they would not forget. Accidents happened... even to those in high places.

Toru grasped the moment; nothing was to be gained by fighting. Brushing Whittaker aside, she shot Galen a glance.

“We’re handling it. Maybe just give us some room?”

The chief’s jaw clenched for a moment, but he jerked his head to his troops, and they backed off to the edge of the crowd. Toru gestured to the Knot. They closed in around her, forming a barrier to avoid being overheard by the brass.

“Carter,” she said, touching his hand, “see if any of the PDTs have activated.”

His eyes flickered blankly again, signaling another silent communion with the synthetic network.

“I am reading five fatalities ready for body retrieval.”

Toru took a breath. Personal data transmitters switched on when a worker flatlined—another cost-cutting measure. The batteries lasted longer this way. Five deaths were terrible, but less than she’d feared. Still, if they didn’t act fast, there would be more.

“Are you instructing me to arrange a rescue mission?” Carter asked. Sometimes it was easy to forget he wasn’t human, but his calm expression in this moment reminded her. Toru gave him a curt nod.

“Whittaker’s no use, and we can’t have miners racing down there. Who knows how shitty the emergency equipment is?”

Bianca let out a snort. “I wouldn’t bloody trust it.”

“I can go with them, Auntie.” Pinar approached from Shaft One. The sunlight gleamed on her state-of-the-art protective suit. Planetary atmosphere of any kind would bring on a cascade of fatal symptoms in her body, but Pinar fought hard to live a productive life in the Knot. Her knowledge of Eitr surpassed the monetary savings of leaving her behind. Her suit, which she affectionally called her “shell”, had cost a lot for the family to buy. It would be invaluable in this situation. She’d be able to assess the danger from the Eitr, while Carter could report on the mine’s structural damage.

Loathe as Toru was to risk the Knot’s own in an unstable mine, it was the life they’d all chosen. The material of Pinar’s suit was harder and more durable than any safety equipment Kozak had bothered to pay for. So Toru nodded.

“Just stick close to the synthetics... No following any seams this time. Got it?”

“No following anything shiny, I promise.” Behind the sheen of polycarbonate plastic, Pinar grinned a little.

Medical teams finally arrived from the camp. Toru and Carter examined the integrity of the cage. After a scan, the synthetic declared the metal free of defects and in full working order. Much to their relief, whatever the size of the explosion below ground, it hadn’t weakened the hoist or the cage.

“I’ll co-ordinate their search pattern through the synthetic network,” Carter said. With a smile of reassurance, he placed his hand over Toru’s and gave it a squeeze. Toru tried very hard not to glance over her shoulder. She trusted Carter but wouldn’t want anyone to notice. They didn’t need any ‘microwave fucker’ commentary.

“Take care of Pinar.”

“The Knot comes first,” he said. “I understand your directives.” His eyes drifted off to the right for a split second. “The miner count stands at thirty, minus the twelve on the surface.”

It was the one thing that miners were always sure to do. They might forget their lunch, but they’d never forget to record their shifts. Every miner punched in or they didn’t get paid for their work. It made for a precise roster of who was below.

Outside, the remaining miners reached the entrance. They’d moved most of the injured, but the new arrivals still risked clogging the way. Galen’s security forces stood around doing nothing—as long as no one threatened violence. They could have helped.

They didn’t.

Lena let out a high-pitched whistle. “Let the Davids and the Joes through, you fucking morons,” she bellowed. “They’ve got rescuing to do.”

Toru wondered if they’d ever done any kind of emergency drill. Local mudlickers died a lot cheaper than even indentured workers. At least her family were skilled employees: the Combine cared more about whether they lived or died. Valuable investments were not to be squandered.

In her time, Toru had dealt with plenty of Working Joes on mines spread throughout the Weyland Isles. The Davids, with their human-presenting faces, were a new wrinkle.

Toru was fine with synthetics—her daughters might have said too fine—but these Davids weren’t standard issue for anything. Their makers, Weyland-Yutani, had recalled all seven models many years ago. These six units, turning up for rescue duty, should have been composted with the rest.

The recall wasn’t compulsory, and the official memo had said they were “fixed” and “fully compliant.” Just a way for the company to deny responsibility if they went rogue and murdered a bunch of folks.

The company line. That made it bullshit.

Kozak must have picked these up on the black market. It wasn’t illegal, but it skirted close to the edge of unacceptable. Toru would have much rather seen the blank stock standard, statue-like faces of the Working Joes, rather than the human—yet somehow more eerie—Davids. Still, they were in working order, and the toxic gases below would mean nothing to them.

Carter, skilled in reading the subtle flickers of her face, shot the Davids an appraising glance.

“I will be in full control. Have no fear.”

The corner of her mouth quirked for a second. “Don’t be afraid to bash in their heads if you need to. The Combine can bill me.”

He nodded.

“Go.” The miners trapped below didn’t have time for her reservations. “First find the folks that Medical can save. Get the other synthetics to locate and remove them.” She paused, then added, “The emergency scrubbers are on the schematics, I hope?”

“Indeed, but I cannot speak to their condition.”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “Knowing the state of the rest of the mine, I’ll be grateful if they’re there at all.”

She motioned at Nathan and Bianca, who helped make a path for the synthetics. Though the resident workers grumbled and swore, they also recognized the experience of the Knot. Contractors sent by the Combine, they held more sway than Kozak did, even with the short time they’d been in residence. Reflected on the faces was concern for their comrades. Every one of them knew it was simple luck that they hadn’t been on that shift.

She addressed the synthetics. “Follow my unit, Carter, below. Listen to his instructions as you would mine.” Synthetic networks could become twitchy unless there was some kind of human direction. She didn’t want them fritzing out.

Carter’s eyes blinked for a moment as he hooked into the network to take the lead. Toru liked to keep him separate from Combine bullshit, but this was an emergency so she made an exception. She hoped he wouldn’t pick up any viruses.

“Where the fuck is the mine manager?” The androids and Pinar loaded into the cage to begin their descent. Toru shielded her eyes from the spotlights, looking through the crowd for any sign of Kozak. “He should be here by now...”

Huddled at the deck entrance, the miners grumbled louder.

“New Luhansk,” Nathan informed her with a jerk of his head. Her nephew showed an enviable ability to slot into any new situation. He’d gathered gossip while the Knot was still in orbit. “He’s set up his family in a pretty little house down there.”

The crowd shifted, and Toru sensed a tipping point. Tragedy often set off resentment: sometimes more. Gooseneck George, the oldest miner on site, shared a knowing look with her as he wiped sweat from his eyes. Like Toru, he knew the dangers. She’d lived through five mine riots, and as much as she understood the anger, she didn’t want to deal with another such uprising.

Spotting Jīn Huā’s dark head of hair among the helmets of the miners, Toru gestured her over. Jīn Huā’s Chinese father grew up with one of Toru’s nieces in Melbourne. Toru might not have birthed her, but in the way of her family, that meant nothing. The Knot adopted her before the attack on Canberra, when things became a nightmare in Australia. Jīn Huā took that kindness and passed it on to the two children she had adopted.

Also, she was a hell of a comms cipher.

Toru wiggled her way through the burly miners to reach the older woman.

“Get back to the office and locate Kozak... fast as you can.”

“Yes, Ma.” Then she was away, melting into the crowd. She’d been some kind of high-powered executive in Australia before the Great Rebellion against the Three World Empire, yet she never challenged the older woman’s leadership. Another reason Toru was glad she’d picked her for this mission.

“Bianca, take a few Joes, and maybe a David, over to the vehicle pool. Send a couple of trucks down the decline tunnel. If the cave-in hasn’t taken it out, it’ll be a good way to get the dead and injured to the surface.” Toru stepped out from the deck and took some long, deep breaths.

The rest of the miners lingered, coagulating in small groups, trying to decipher what had happened. Toru didn’t need to listen to their conversations. Only the presence of the armed security guards contained that simmering resentment.

Medics and Joes had already taken six workers to the medical dome, but another three were still waiting to be transported. Friends crouched next to them, trying to offer them some comfort. All three screamed, or sobbed, or moaned.

“Teeth... fuck me... the teeth.”

“They’re in the walls!”

Toru pulled her grey braids from the sweat gathered at her neck. Carbon monoxide poisoning was a beast, and the effects were terrifying. Time would help them escape its clutches—she hoped.

The personal device crackled on her wrist, and Jīn Huā’s voice echoed up from it, brittle and angry.

“He’s here, Ma. And he’s pissed.”

Toru knew who Kozak’s target would be. She squeezed her hands into fists, trying to do that box technique breathing Lena had attempted to teach her. At least it brought oxygen to her brain, even if it didn’t calm her all the way down.

She flicked the channel open. “I’m on my way. Tell him it’s best not to step outside that dome right now. Miners are roaming around looking for some kind of payback.”

As Toru set off, she tried to tell herself she wasn’t one of them.