Alien seventh circle, p.1
Alien: Seventh Circle, page 1
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Leave us a Review
Copyright
1: In The Maze of Minos
2: Seeking a Star
3: An Interesting Catch
4: Forgotten Dark
5: A Predator Turns
6: A Dark Arrival
7: The Lost Return
8: From The Outside Corners
9: Into The Labyrinth
10: No Resistance
11: Into The Company Belly
12: The Joys of Home
13: Outside The Box
14: Red, Green, Blue
15: A Gentle Soul
16: The Greenest Silence
17: Science Breach
18: A Bright Hope
19: Planetfall
20: An Unkind Harvest
21: A Kindness Returned
22: Unforeseen Allies
23: Save Who You Can
24: Breaking Free
25: Company-Issued Nightmare
26: Blood of All Kinds
27: The Blue and The Red
28: Complete Yet Broken
29: Careful What You Wish For
30: Return to Knossos
31: Helpful Mr. Brown
32: Half a Friend
33: Labyrinth’s End
34: Losing a Daughter
35: Lost and Found
Acknowledgements
About the Authors
THE COMPLETE ALIEN™ LIBRARY FROM TITAN BOOKS
The Official Movie Novelizations
by Alan Dean Foster
Alien, Aliens™, Alien 3, Alien: Covenant,
Alien: Covenant Origins
Alien: Resurrection by A.C. Crispin
Alien 3: The Unproduced Screenplay
by William Gibson & Pat Cadigan
Alien
Out of the Shadows by Tim Lebbon
Sea of Sorrows by James A. Moore
River of Pain by Christopher Golden
The Cold Forge by Alex White
Isolation by Keith R.A. DeCandido
Prototype by Tim Waggoner
Into Charybdis by Alex White
Colony War by David Barnett
Inferno’s Fall by Philippa Ballantine
Enemy of My Enemy by Mary SanGiovanni
Uncivil War by Brendan Deneen
Seventh Circle by Philippa Ballantine
The Rage War
by Tim Lebbon
Predator™: Incursion, Alien: Invasion
Alien vs. Predator™: Armageddon
Aliens
Bug Hunt edited by Jonathan Maberry
Phalanx by Scott Sigler
Infiltrator by Weston Ochse
Vasquez by V. Castro
Bishop by T.R. Napper
The Complete Aliens Omnibus
Volumes 1–7
Aliens vs. Predators
Ultimate Prey edited by Jonathan Maberry & Bryan Thomas Schmidt
Rift War by Weston Ochse & Yvonne Navarro
The Complete Aliens vs. Predator Omnibus by Steve Perry & S.D. Perry
Predator
If It Bleeds edited by Bryan Thomas Schmidt
The Predator by Christopher Golden & Mark Morris
The Predator: Hunters and Hunted by James A. Moore
Stalking Shadows by James A. Moore & Mark Morris
Eyes of the Demon edited by Bryan Thomas Schmidt
The Complete Predator Omnibus
by Nathan Archer & Sandy Scofield
Non-Fiction
AVP: Alien vs. Predator
by Alec Gillis & Tom Woodruff, Jr.
Aliens vs. Predator Requiem: Inside The Monster Shop by Alec Gillis & Tom Woodruff, Jr.
Alien: The Illustrated Story by Archie Goodwin & Walter Simonson
The Art of Alien: Isolation by Andy McVittie
Alien: The Archive
Alien: The Weyland-Yutani Report by S.D. Perry
Aliens: The Set Photography by Simon Ward
Alien: The Coloring Book
The Art and Making of Alien: Covenant by Simon Ward
Alien Covenant: David’s Drawings by Dane Hallett & Matt Hatton
The Predator: The Art and Making of the Film by James Nolan
The Making of Alien by J.W. Rinzler
Alien: The Blueprints by Graham Langridge
Alien: 40 Years 40 Artists
Alien: The Official Cookbook by Chris-Rachael Oseland
Aliens: Artbook by Printed In Blood
A NOVEL BY
PHILIPPA BALLANTINE
STORY BY
PHILIPPA BALLANTINE
AND CLARA ČARIJA
TITAN BOOKS
LEAVE US A REVIEW
We hope you enjoy this book – if you did we would really appreciate it if you can write a short review. Your ratings really make a difference for the authors, helping the books you love reach more people.
You can rate this book, or leave a short review here:
Amazon.com,
Amazon.co.uk,
Goodreads,
Barnes & Noble,
Waterstones,
or your preferred retailer.
ALIEN™: SEVENTH CIRCLE
Print edition ISBN: 9781803366975
E-book edition ISBN: 9781803366982
Published by Titan Books
A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd
144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP
www.titanbooks.com
First edition: January 2025
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead (except for satirical purposes), is entirely coincidental.
TM & © 2025 20th Century Studios
Philippa Ballantine and Clara Čarija assert the moral right to be identified as the authors of this work.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
Did you enjoy this book?
We love to hear from our readers. Please email us at readerfeedback@titanemail.com or write to us at Reader Feedback at the above address.
www.titanbooks.com
1
IN THE MAZE OF MINOS
They were being hunted. Two artificial people trapped in a world of human pain and terror. It shouldn’t have been like this.
Mae sat, staring at her silhouette as it cast shadows in crimson light, while she contemplated the end.
Was this what Father went through?
Knees folded tightly into her chest, she stared at the communication panel in front of her. It blinked a few times before going out.
Rook touched her shoulder. “This won’t help. We have to move—right now.”
The pulsing red light cast the pilot of the Blackstar’s sharp, angular face in strange shadows. It bounced off the myriad of ragged scars in his synthetic skin and the slightly twisted jaw that he’d attempted to repair himself. Like her, he wore a human face, though his was considerably more battered. Mae’s face was unique, while his was repeated all over the middle heavens. Bishop models were prized in technical fields, but today he was performing an even more valuable role: helping her save the Jackals.
Mae feared the next message she waited for wouldn’t come. That was awful, but logical—yet she found herself rooted to the spot. The klaxon blared, filling the corridor with relentless noise and flashes of scarlet light to show time was running out. Not much of it remained.
“Attention. Emergency. All personnel must evacuate immediately. Get to your nearest escape pod. You now have ten minutes to lockdown protocol.” The soothing voice was that of a calm, collected woman, not one trapped in a dying space station with monstrosities in every shadow.
Her mother, Colonel Zula Hendricks, called it the Mama Warning, or in her darker moments, the Kiss Your Ass Goodbye Warning.
Despite the screaming klaxon and the message repeated over and over, the beast still pounded on the hatch. Rook tilted his head towards it, as if to remind her again that she couldn’t keep waiting for another message that would never come. The repetitive thud of chitin hitting reinforced steel somehow made itself heard over the wailing alarm. Fear welled inside her. She would have dearly loved to hear from her father, Davis, in this moment.
He’d been there when she first woke on the Righteous Fury and provided guidance in those first days as a synthetic person. He would have said something useful now, or at least something funny.
Most of all, she wished her mother, Colonel Zula Hendricks, stood at her side, giving orders and telling her the right action to take. But that wasn’t possible. She was with Red Mae. Hopefully, that splinter persona would help Zula and her unit stay alive until Mae Prime came back with help.
That wouldn’t happen if she didn’t move right now.
Rook took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He was a strange synthetic, unhooked from human control in a way she’d never seen from another of their kind—except for herself. Sitting as still as she was, he must’ve been worried she’d pic ked up a corrupted subroutine. “The elevator isn’t far.”
Another bang echoed through the dark station corridor. At this sub-level, they were alone. They’d lost their unit during the chaos of their mission. One desperate message from Colonel Hendricks and Red Team was all Mae hung her hopes on. Whether they’d made it to some kind of safety, she couldn’t tell. Her mother only managed a single transmission: she and her unit were trapped while trying to make it back to the space elevator.
All the Jackals would die here in the darkest corner of the universe if Mae or Rook didn’t escape and let someone know what happened on Minos Station.
Mae wondered if Rook experienced the same swirl of emotions as her. They hadn’t found time to compare notes about their specifications, and it didn’t look like they’d have any now.
They’d lost audio contact with Red Team, but she still glanced at the personal wrist device all Jackals were equipped with. Willpower wouldn’t make green letters appear on its screen. Another pause gave the Xenomorph a chance to think, too.
The monster changed tactics, going from rhythmic banging to something more cunning. The sly scratching around the hatch was somehow even worse than the thundering attacks. This variant of Xenomorph wasn’t like anything they’d encountered on Shānmén. That was the inherent horror of the beast: it adapted to every situation by stealing the advantages of its host.
Mae checked the records from the Jackals’ database within her. While Xenomorphs—particularly queens—were observed opening doors, they’d never been recorded opening an airlock or hatch. However, they were not animals, which was the greatest peril. Complacency in the matter of Xenomorphs always led to disaster.
There is no greater danger than underestimating your opponent.
Could that be the echo of her dead father? Mae filed that away for later—if there was a later. She pushed away from the wall. “Okay, right behind you.”
Rook was the only other synthetic who knew Mae’s secret. It was comfortable to share a small network as they did. They didn’t need words, but she’d been practicing her human reactions for months. Rook’s mouth crooked in a slight smile at her strangeness, but he’d picked up a few of his own quirks, too.
Together, they bolted away from the hatch. Even if the Xenomorph didn’t open it, there were always the air ducts and other vital pipework. Xenos had a particular knack for sniffing out those claustrophobic spaces and the station artificial intelligence wouldn’t lock them down, since that would mean death to all the human residents. Given their options, though, that might’ve been a mercy.
Rook’s and Mae’s synthetic eyes didn’t operate like a flesh-and-blood human’s. The station AI had activated evacuation protocols, restricting power to emergency and running lights leading to exits. Luckily, neither of them needed any illumination to find their way down the utilitarian corridor.
As a synthetic person, Mae realized she shouldn’t feel this tired. Her efforts to become more like her mother over the last few months began to bear fruit, but right now it got in the way of survival.
They both discarded their pulse rifles long before the ammo counters clicked to ‘00’. Rook carried a pistol, and Mae clutched a bowie knife Zula had gifted her. Neither of those would be much use if a Xenomorph decided they were a threat, though. When she chose to abandon her combat droid body for one more like a human, she gave up a lot of durability. Mae was almost as fragile as a human in many respects, now.
The Bishop models were sturdier—but not built for heavy combat, either.
This way. I overheard Station Chief Rolstad mentioning an elevator for executive staff that goes directly to Minos’s command center. He seemed quite proud of it. We can get a shuttle from there.
The corridor flashed blood red occasionally as they ran through the administration section of the facility. The staff left everything behind: papers on the floor, spilled cups of coffee, and overturned chairs. Unattended lights and alarms beeped urgently.
Under evacuation protocol, every one of the codes that Mae and Rook would have used as synthetics to connect with the station computer, open doors, and find their way was disabled. They were equally as fucked as the rest of the humans on this infected space station.
Something in the shadows moved above them, a creaking in the pipes that caused Rook to stop and duck behind a desk, pulling her with him. Rook slowly lifted one finger to his lips, gesturing Mae to be silent.
Normally, a Xenomorph would not be interested in a synthetic person. They couldn’t host a growing embryo in their chests. The abominations needed flesh to grow their colony, and would only attack a synthetic if they carried a weapon or posed any other threat. However, these infected Xenomorphs acted differently to the ones in Mae’s records.
On the lower levels, she’d witnessed them rip combat synthetics apart even as they stood in their charging racks. She and Rook were in as much danger as the genetic humans on this station. Perhaps while the humans studied them, the Xenos ran their own investigation in return. They’d certainly been around synthetics every moment this experiment was in progress.
Rook’s eyes tracked the pattern of the sound reverberating off the ceiling above them. You know, I used to be called Father at one time. So let me be that now to you. I’ll go first. Stay down.
You’re not my father, Mae shot back. She wondered in what context he’d be a parent, but that story would have to wait.
His eyebrow jumped up at that. A father is someone meant to protect, and your mother entrusted you into my care. However, if you prefer, I can address you as Lieutenant.
Rook chose this moment to remind her of the rank. Mae sent the synthetic equivalent of a middle finger across their connection.
It is my duty to never harm or allow a human to be harmed. I count you among that number, as far as the colonel is concerned.
She couldn’t argue with that.
He crouched down and glanced back. His gentle green eyes locked on her. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I may be synthetic, but I’m not stupid.
Mae shook her head. Artificial people often batted that line amongst themselves. It was as close to humor as most got. But in that millisecond when she was disarmed, Rook took action. He darted between the desks and towards the larger offices.
He remained so calm that Mae was almost jealous. He disappeared from view, even as the creaks and groans from above sounded louder. The Xenomorphs did love to travel in the air ducts. They were much more agile than a human up there, and it suited their favorite method of attack: ambush.
I’m calling the elevator now. It’s safe. Rook’s transmission was slightly distorted. Their fragile shared network had a limited signal strength amongst the metal of the station’s superstructure.
Mae leaped to her feet and hustled after him until the pressure door slammed down centimeters in front of her face. On the other side, Rook spun around.
Safeguard protocol on the executive level must have triggered when I called the elevator. He hastily examined each side of the door. It’s under evac protocol. I can’t open it.
They stared at each other for 8.23 seconds through the glass. Behind Rook, the elevator pinged a bell-like tone to announce its arrival. It was an incongruously happy sound given the situation.
You can reach the small freight deck directly off the galleria. The kitchen staff get all their supplies delivered there. Your mother ordered the Blackstar moved there for repairs. Rook pressed his hand against the door for a moment. Go back down one corridor, turn right. Take the transit. Go now.
Mae felt a touch of panic. We were supposed to go together. You have my Deep Lock key. What if something happens to you?
He nodded. I’ll be fine. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ll find you. Go.
Dampening down her concerns, Mae took one last look at Rook and ran back the way they’d come until she spotted the large, distressed words under a scarlet arrow on the wall:
TRANSIT STATION TO GALLERIA, OBSERVATION DECK, AND CANTEEN.
Mae had little experience with space stations. However, it made sense they’d have supply shuttles for ferrying the food and supplies needed to keep humans productive. The Jackals complained about and rejoiced in food. It almost made Mae wish for taste buds, sometimes.
She’d couldn’t afford to think of Shipp, Yoo, or Littlefield right now.
