VS.

Written by Barry Reese

Note : Magnus, Robot Fighter is copyright Acclaim Entertainment. Aliens is copyright 20th Century Fox. This story is part of my ongoing Magnus Fanfiction Series and picks up shortly after issue # 72.

North Am Metroplex. Eastern Seaboard. Grid Designate : Bos-411. Gehenna Level. May 10, 4022.

Grel Stavin wiped the sweat and grime from his forehead. It was hot and oppressive down in the Goph Levels, especially when one was working as hard as Grel. He was a scavenger, making his living by finding scrapped metal and technology. His small living quarters were lined with dismantled robs and blown-out energy cells, looking more like a museum to modern technology than a home.

But Grel loved it. In his 56 years, he'd lost a wife, two sons and a career -- all to the horrors of the Malevs, one way or another. Now, he was happy with what he had -- it wasn't much, but it was his.

Grel picked up the small pod that he'd found in the lower levels. It was sealed and bore a warning mark on the top alongside the words PROPERTY OF SPEKTOR CORP. To Grel, it looked like some kind of medical pack or stasis device. The pod was opaque, giving no view of its contents. Grel had had a lot of luck lately raiding the old hospitals and such, ones that had been abandoned or destroyed with time. Just last week, he'd found an old med-rob that he'd spliced back together. It was an antique, but still useful to Gophs who couldn't afford better medical attention. He'd sold it for a hefty profit and was anxious for more.

The pod was sealed tight and Grel was forced to use a small screw driver to pry it open. It snapped clear with a hiss, releasing a pungent odor. Grel wrinkled his nose. "Flooie! Nasty, nasty."

Peering forward, Grel examined his prize. Inside was some form of lifeform, still sluggish from the stasis fluids it had been sealed in. Grel felt his heart drop. A beasty probably wouldn't fetch much on the open market, not unless it could do tricks or something.

That thought spurred him on to poke at the thing. It twitched slightly and Grel looked at his fingertip. It was covered in slime. "Ugly critter. Needs mondo good tricks if Grel to keep it."

The creature suddenly jumped forward, its long tail wrapping arounding Grel's thought. The sticky meat of the creature pressed itself against his face.

In a panic, Grel began screaming, scratching at the thing in hopes of tearing it off. But it clung tightly to him, its tail increasing the pressure on his throat until he could no longer make a cry or resist. His eyes bulged from lack of air.

Then, he felt it push something into his throat. He could nothing but lie there in a panic, praying to whatever Gods existed in this day and age, hoping that somewhere his wife would be waiting for him.

And then the tail loosened and the facehugger pulled free. Grel gasped for air, losing sight of the tiny creature as it scurried away into the darkness. He didn't care at the moment, all he cared about was the fact that, amazingly, he still lived.

Inside his chest, something large began to grow.

North Am Metroplex. Western Seaboard. Grid Designate : LA-307. Milespire. May 23, 4022.

Magnus clenched his left hand experimentally. "It feels fine. I can't tell a difference, really."

The med-rob nodded as he finished removing the bandages. "Good. It-should-function-as-well-as-the-old."

The Robot Fighter stood up and put his tunic back on. It had been less than three days since he'd lost his hand*, three days when his system had undergone trauma after trauma. Though the nanites had been kept from spreading further into his bloodstream, they'd tainted him just enough that he'd been violently ill.

(*See Magnus # 72 for more)

"Is Glia still waiting for me?"

The med-rob glanced up from where it was putting away its various instruments. "No. Glia-was-called-away-on-Council-business. She-left-word-that-she-will-see-you-at-the-apartment."

Magnus nodded and stepped out. He could feel the brusqueness with which the doctor had been treating him. Many freewills distrusted him, and some with good reason. It must have been hard for the doctor to restore the hand of a Robot Fighter.

He walked down the long corridors of Asimov Freewill Institute, his mind burning with questions. So much had happened since his return from the Lost Land -- the incident with Dr. Tempus, the sudden madness and subsequent disappearance of the Destroyer, and worst of all -- Elzy's illness. His longtime friend had disappeared, apparently kidnapped by rogue freewills. When he'd found her again, she'd tried to kill him. Now, she lay in a hospital bed of her own, trying to survive having her bloodstream cleansed of nanites.

When he stepped out into the beautiful, sunny skies of LA-307, Magnus took a moment to look around. North Am was once again a virtual paradise, having recovered from the horrors of war. He suddenly wished that Glia were here to share the moment with him. The freewill robot had captured his heart and mind of late, with a speed that somewhat worried him. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was far more to her than first met the eye.

"Magnus?"

The Robot Fighter turned at the sound of his name. A civil servant stood there, a human one, dressed in the familiar military attire of a police officer. "Yes?"

The officer held up a small datapad in his hand. "I've been asked by President Shooter himself to escort you east. There's a situation."

Magnus couldn't resist frowning. "I'm no longer associated with the government -- I don't want Shooter running to me everytime something goes wrong. What, exactly, does he want me for?"

The officer made a furtive glance to make sure no one was listening. "We have several murders, sir. Of an extraterrestrial kind."

At that, the Robot Fighter let out a sigh. He'd been hoping that Shooter's request would be a pointless one so he could refuse it. Not the case. "I see. Very well. I'm all yours."

North Am Metroplex. Eastern Seaboard. Grid Designate : Bos-411. Milespires. May 24, 4022.

"The first known dead was a Goph named Grel Stavin. He was found dead in his apartment on the 19th. An exit wound from his chest indicates that the lifeform burst outward -- our robs think that Stavin served as some sort of walking incubator for the thing. Since then, we've found four more. Most show signs of having been fed upon -- in at least one instance, there was severe acid scarring. We have only one sighting -- a cleaning rob witnessed the thing fleeing from the scene of one of the murders. We've analyzed sensor recordings of the event again and again -- this is the best still from the film."

Magnus shifted in his seat somewhat uneasily. He was in a darkened corner of President Shooter's new milespire-level office. He leaned forward. "Big teeth -- and I'd bet that his carapace is pretty tough. Looks to be about 7-9 feet tall, I'd wager. Any identification on the species?"

Shooter shook his head. "Anecdotal evidence suggests the creatures live on the fringe. It's possible that there's been human-alien contact with them in the past, but if so, our records of the events are lost."

"Why haven't you sent an assault team into the Goph levels?"

Shooter cleared his throat and wished desperately for a drink. "We did. Eight battle robs, armed to the teeth. Only one of them returned and he was beyond repair. Before his memory chips became corrupted, he managed to tell us that the creature was in the lowest of the Goph levels."

"Any idea how he got to here in the first place?"

"A survey of Stavin's apartment found an open stasis tube among his belongings. We've identified the seals on its surface -- apparently, the creature was being held by a xenobiology corporation known as Spektor. They went out of business several years ago, having been found guilty of breaking several laws when it came to the harvesting of endangered creatures. It's possible they didn't even know what they had."

Magnus couldn't tear his eyes away from the creature. The picture had been blown up to show as much detail as possible and he found himself staring at its teeth. "You want me to go after it, I take it?"

Shooter nodded, flipping on the lights. "Magnus... I know we ask so much of you. But you're our best hope. Your strength and stamina make you worth a hundred battle robs. If anyone can find this killer before it strikes again, it's you."

Magnus stood up. "I'll head down immediately -- but I want you to know something before I go."

"Yes?"

"I'm not a fool. When I was President, I conducted a detailed accounting of all areas of North Am's government. Spektor wasn't simply a science group, was it?"

Shooter lowered his gaze. "No, damnit. It was formed in the late 3990s -- with the intention of finding biological weapons."

"I want you to promise me that they're shut down. And if they're not closed down yet -- I want you do it. Understand?"

"Of course. You have my word."

North Am Metroplex. Eastern Seaboard. Grid Designate : Bos-411. Below Gehenna Level. 4:15 PM

The alien hunted with great stealth, sliding among the many connecting tunnels of Gehenna. It sniffed the air, sensing prey ahead. Game had been easy to find since its birth, but a growing sense of uneasiness was beginning to settle in the beast's primitive brain. Its primary urges were simple ones -- grow, feed, protect the Queen.

But not all of them were being fulfilled. There was no Queen. This made the alien feel unsettled and confused. Was the Queen dead? Why was there no Queen?

It dropped down nimbly to rest atop an overhang. Below him, he heard footsteps. Leaning down, he got his first glimpse of his evening's meal.

There were two men, one young and handsome, the other heavyset and bristling with what the alien sensed were weapons. The younger man smelled sweet, his perfume drifting up into the alien's nostrils. He was chattering away, his words having no meaning to the alien.

"I thought you told me that all of Spektor's holdings were accounted for. You're lucky I don't replace you with a servant-rob!" Nikolas Clane, the cousin of Magnus' deceased wife Leeja, wrinkled his nose at the filth about him. He'd never been so low into Goph territory before and it was churning his stomach. How can anyone live in these conditions, he wondered.

Nerg glanced over at the senator with a sneer. "Find a rob who'll do a job half as good as me, friend. I dare you. Look -- I cleared out every Spektor base I could find. But if it ain't listed on the old corporate manifest, then i don't know it's there. Ergo -- I didn't check it. Anyway, you didn't need to come down here with me. I can manage, you know."

"Your actions recently have brought that into doubt, Nerg. I want to see this rumored Spektor center myself -- if the rumors in the Senate are true, then the alien killer originated there. There may be something else there that could be used to assure North Am's security. The last thing we need is for another Malev attack to catch us offguard."

Nerg stopped, flashing his lightrod ahead. "There it is. Behind those old blast-doors. Better be careful, though. The area looks unsafe to me...."

The alien landed on top of Nerg and had rammed its jaws into his neck before he ever uttered another word.

Nikolas gaped for a moment, his legs no longer seeming to function. He could hear Nerg's death... not out loud, but in his head. Like his cousin Leeja, he'd always been subtly telepathic -- it had made his rise in the Senate so much easier. Now, however, it was a curse. He pressed his hands to his head in a futile attempt to block off the death cries.

The alien looked up, his mouth dripping acid and blood. It stalked towards Nikolas, leaping forward to block his escape when it seemed the senator meant to bolt.

Nikolas had never felt fear like this -- it hammered in his chest and made his bladder weaken. He held up a hand to keep the creature back and whispered, "No... It can't end like this. It can't..."

The alien felt a presence. It hesitated, uncertain, as fear pressed into its brain. Backing away, it shook its large head as if to clear it of unseen cobwebs.

Nikolas blinked in surprised as the alien stepped back. Strange thoughts ran through his mind, primitive ones of hunger and need. With a slowly spreading smile of realization, Nikolas began to relax. You can hear me, can't you? And I, you... My telepathy has always been weak with humans but you and I... we have a bond. A need. For something that we don't have. I want North Am, safe and protected. You want... a leader.

There, in the darkness, two monsters came together.

North Am Metroplex. Eastern Seaboard. Grid Designate : Bos-411. Below Gehenna Level. 9:00 PM

Magnus had little trouble tracing the beast. He'd gone as far down into the Gehenna level as he dared, and then forced himself lower. The Gophs here were a dark, hairy bunch, keeping to the dark as much as possible. But they recognized the Robot Fighter who had once allied himself with them and were ready with answers to his questions -- far more so than they would have been with police robots. Several of them had told him that they'd heard strange noises near one of the abandoned medical complexes and one was adamant that he'd seen a 'black, alien monster' in the vicinity.

He hated these kinds of bug-hunts. He'd been on many since revealing himself to the people of North Am in the year 4000. He'd battled out-of-control robots, Malevs and even an alien Predator of some kind. Once, he'd hoped that mankind would become self-sufficent enough to throw off the need for robots or for people like Magnus. That they would one day be able to protect themselves. But it always seemed to come down to North Am begging for the help of Magnus or the Starwatchers.

Something skidded across his path up ahead, moving quickly and with purpose. Magnus made a fist with his surgically-replaced hand. "My name is Magnus. If you have the capacity to understand my speech, please respond. There's no need for violence if we can work this out."

Inside the Spektor center, Nikolas Clane kept a close eye on the proceedings. He was sitting low, in case Magnus should see him. I knew it would come to this someday, but I never knew how I could arrange it. I should have known fate would deal me the hand I need. You're a fool, Magnus. You got my cousin Leeja and her father killed. You betrayed North Am to the Psi-Lords and the Malevs... and as long as you're alive, the people of this world will never stand up for themselves. The senator smiled softly, his mind reaching out to the alien. Kill him.

Magnus watched with wide eyes as the alien rose up from the darkness. It was bigger than he expected -- slightly over 9 feet tall. It dripped acid from its mouth that burned through the floor upon impact. Its long, powerful tail writhed behind it.

The Robot Fighter knew there would be no discussion. This was a killer, a hunter. It wasn't one for exchaning pleasantries. "Very well. Let's get this over with."

The alien threw itself forward with blinding speed, surprising Magnus. Its claws sliced through his protective tunic, drawing blood. Magnus rolled with the blow, lowering himself to drive a powerful fist into the alien's midsection. The creature's armor plating deflected much of the impact, however.

The two warriors began a deadly dance of death, spinning around one another in the darkened filth of Gehenna. The alien whipped out a tail slash that landed square in the chest of the Robot Fighter. The blow sent Magnus flying, crashing through a nearby apartment wall. He landed in the abandoned bedroom, his eyes glazing over from the sheer power of the blow.

He looked up in time to see the alien springing for him. Without thinking, he lay on his back and kicked a leg up. He let the alien's momentum carry it forward as it struck his foot. It landed hard on the floor behind him, hissing in anger.

Magnus moved forward, landing a chop on the alien's head. It shrug off the blow easily and wrapped its arms around his waist. Wrestling him to the floor, the alien brought its face close. Its mouth opened, acid dripping onto Magnus' chest, burning him. A second set of teeth seemed to telescope out, opening hungrily.

It lunged forward, desperate to taste the man's flesh but Magnus drove his fist hard against its inner teeth. Summoning every ounce of his strength, he met the alien's attack directly. Several of the alien's teeth splintered and fell, while the Robot Fighter's hand was shredded. Magnus cried out, but managed to push the alien from him.

Both rose again, panting. They were in a narrow, confined space but neither made any move to flee to more open ground. One would live here, and one would die. For a moment, they locked eyes -- both aliens to the other. Pain and despair were reflected from each.

Magnus tried to ignore the red haze that tried that pull him into unconsciousness. His new hand ached, ruined already. "I'm sorry... It's not right that you were brought here against your will. But I can't let you live, not like this."

The alien studied him silently, as if he could understand the intent, if not the words. Then it moved to attack once more. It wrapped its legs about the Robot Fighter's legs and pulled them out from under him. Then it slashed with its claws at his suddenly exposed belly. They were unable to deeply pierce his steel-hard skin, but they drew blew nonetheless and left gouges that stretched from his nipples to his groin. Again and again, it slashed, sensing victory was near.

Magnus reached out his hands, not bothering to fend off the claws. He put a hand on each side of the monster's head and began twisting. It wasn't easy and his muscles screamed almost as loudly as his throat did. The alien was having more success now, opening deeper wounds. It was straining to get its teeth close enough to rip into the man's bloodsoaked stomach, but Magnus held on tight.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Magnus felt something begin to give. As blood and sweat poured from him, he put everything he had into his task. With a horrible snap, the alien's neck twisted oddly. The beast's claws continued to clutch at Magnus for several seconds before stopped. The acid blood released from the alien's wounds had burned Magnus badly, burning through several layers of skin.

Magnus rolled the dead creature off of him and fumbled at his belt. His communicator was still there, thankfully. He thumbed the line open and gasped. "...Gehenna. Need... med-rob. Dead....."

And then darkness overtook him.

North Am Metroplex. Eastern Seaboard. Grid Designate : Bos-411. Milespires. May 26, 4022.

Nikolas Clane sat in his living room, listening to the news. He was wearing a silk robe, some nameless bim in his bedroom. She had been an easy conquest, hardly worth his time. But he needed to celebrate.

"...and Magnus continues to recuperate after saving North Am's eastern seaboard grids from an alien killer. The famed Robot Fighter and former North Am President is reportedly in good spirits and expects to be released within the next three days. His son, the Starwatcher known as Torque, has been with his father ever since --"

Nikolas turned off the vid. The alien had nearly killed Magnus, had taken everything the Robot Fighter had to give and almost won. Imagine, he mused, what an army of those things could do. Especially with the right leadership.

Nikolas reached out to the small stasis packet that rested on his table. Picking it up, he thanked providence once more for letting him find this treasure before fleeing the Goph levels. A warning label across the top bore the Spektor seal -- and below it read PROPERTY OF SPEKTOR CORP, ALIEN QUEEN EMBRYO.

THE END...
But the saga of the Alien Queen and Nikolas Clane will continue in the ongoing Magnus series

AUTHOR'S NOTES

I hope you enjoyed the story -- it's one I've wanted to write ever since i read the Magnus/Predator miniseries published back in the mid 1990s. It will impact the continuity of my Magnus fanfiction series quite a bit -- Nikolas Clane is set to take his place amongst such classic Magnus villains as Mekman, the Malevs and 01X. See you all back in Magnus # 73.

Barry Reese