Aliens: Bishop by T.R. Napper;

Author:T.R. Napper;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags:  
Publisher: Penguin Random House LLC (Publisher Services)

BISHOP

47

They worked. The documentation of the face-hugger proceeded apace. Michael seemed happy, which made Bishop happy. Once or twice his creator was ill, with severe headaches, and he would take heavy painkillers and sleep in his room. During these times he would leave Bishop alone to research.

Not quite alone, however. Orthus was always there, the twin-headed guardian watching his every move.

Bishop burned with curiosity about the rest of the ship. It was clear it was not only far bigger than the section to which he was confined, but also of a make Bishop had never come across, not even in his databases. The equipment—the tools in the laboratory, the computer terminal in the living quarters, the quantum computer itself—were not of United Americas or Three World Empire design.

It could not be the Union of Progressive Peoples, either, as their technology was dated and decrepit. He deduced that the lab equipment might in theory have been made by Weyland-Yutani—the standards were up to the top-of-the-line products they offered—but he’d seen no items that directly matched these in any Company catalogue.

The quantum computer would be the key. Such devices were expensive and relatively rare. If he could remove the casing, or at least snatch a few moments at the small window to view the innards more comprehensively, he was confident he could deduce its origin.

However, Michael had only given him access to the terminal in the living quarters, which Bishop had started using to assist with projections and sample studies. He had asked that Bishop only enter the quantum lab with permission, and the synth did not wish to disobey. Even with his newfound freedom, he had no desire to show such disrespect.

He also found himself intensely curious about the battered iron door at the end of the corridor, just outside their quarters, though he was not sure why. At first Bishop had assumed it was simply a storage area, and would have accepted this as an explanation. When he asked about it, however, his creator had paused.

“All in good time,” was all he said.

It would have been difficult to formulate a sentence that could pique Bishop’s curiosity more. “All in good time.” He wondered if it were yet another experiment, though he could not—with any statistical probability—think what it might be. Thus the dented and scratched door remained a mystery box that he could not wait to open.

More broadly, the most likely conclusion was that they were working with a corporation, a Weyland-Yutani competitor. It seemed unlikely, however, that any of them would have possessed sufficient resources to build what he had seen here, though private companies were notoriously good at hiding their strengths and biding their time.

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