Tim Lebbon - Alien - Out of the Shadows

“Don’t suppose you have another drill?”

Hoop shook his head, then looked down at the spray gun that was hanging from his shoulder. He smiled.

Kasyanov and Lachance appeared with the fuel cell. They wheeled it through the doorway, then set the trolley against the far wall.

“Strap that against the wall, tight,” Hoop said. Then he closed the doors and pulled a small square of thick metal out of a pocket, pressing it against the hole he’d drilled on their exit from the Marion. He removed his hand and the metal remained where it was.

“Bonding agent,” he said when he saw Ripley watching. “Air pressure will press it tight. It’ll give us enough time.”

Ripley walked along the corridor until it curved toward Bay Four. She paused where she could see the door, beyond which lay the docking arm with her shuttle, waiting for them all. Walking made her wounds hurt, but standing still was barely a relief. It’s only pain, Sneddon had said. It doesn’t matter. She felt warm dampness dripping down her side from her shoulder. She’d opened the wound there again.

It’s only pain.

She could see back along the curving corridor, and she watched Lachance and Kasyanov securing the trolley and fuel cell to the wall with cargo straps from the Samson . She did the same, tying herself tight with her belt against a heavy fixing point.

“All ready?” Hoop asked. He disappeared in the other direction, following Sneddon toward where the corridor merged with the one from the ruined docking arm.

“What’s the plan?” Kasyanov asked.

“Squirt of acid through the door,” Hoop said. “Hardly subtle, but it should work. It’ll get a bit stormy in here, though. Hold on to your dicks.”

“We don’t all have dicks, dickhead,” Kasyanov muttered.

“Well, hold onto something, then.” He paused. “On three.”

Ripley counted quietly. One… two…

Three…

There was a pause. Then Hoop said, “Oh, maybe it won’t—” A whistle, and then a roar as air started flooding into the sealed area.

That’ll wake Ash up, Ripley thought. She couldn’t help thinking of the bastard as still human.

PROGRESS REPORT:

To: Weyland-Yutani Corporation, Science Division (Ref: code 937)

Date (unspecified)

Transmission (pending)

The survivors include Warrant Officer Ripley.

I am pleased that she is still alive. She and I feel close. From what I can see from the Marion’s cctv cameras, she seems to be wounded. But she’s walking. She impresses me. To have woken from such a long sleep, to face the truth of her extended slumber, and then to address her situation so efficiently. She could almost be an android.

I am going to kill her, along with Chief Engineer Hooper, Doctor Kasyanov, and the pilot.

Science Officer Sneddon is carrying an alien embryo. Frustratingly I can glean no details, but from the few conversations I have monitored, it seems as if her condition is obvious. As is her expressed intention to end her own life.

I cannot allow this.

Once she is on board the Narcissus and the new fuel cell is installed, I will take the steps necessary to complete my mission.

The roar died down to a low whistling, and then that too faded to nothing. Ripley’s ears rang. She looked back along the corridor and saw Hoop appearing from around the curve, suit helmet already removed.

“We’re good,” he said.

“You call that good?” Lachance asked. “I think I soiled my spacesuit.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Kasyanov said.

“Sneddon?” Ripley asked.

“I’m here.” Her voice sounded weak. She doesn’t have long , Ripley thought. She pulled her own helmet off and let it dangle from its straps, hoping she wouldn’t need it again.

Hoop and the others pushed the fuel cell on its trolley, and when they reached the door that led into Bay Four’s vestibule, they paused.

“Lachance, go back and stay with Sneddon,” Hoop said. “And Kasyanov… you said you might have something?”

Kasyanov took a small syringe from her belt pouch.

“It’s the best I can do,” she said.

“What does that mean?” Ripley asked.

“It means it won’t be painless. Get me to med bay and I’ll find something better, but with the limited stuff I have on hand, this is it.”

Hoop nodded, face grim.

“Let’s get ready to fly.”

Hoop opened the doorway, and Ripley and Kasyanov pushed the trolley through.

The movement was sudden, unexpected, the hissing thing leaping at them from where it had been crouched beside the door. Kasyanov cried out and stumbled back, but Ripley quickly gathered her senses, crouching down and opening her arms.

“Jonesy!” she said. “Hey, it’s me, it’s all right you stupid cat.” Jonesy crouched before her for a moment, hissing again. Then he slinked around her legs and allowed her to pick him up.

“Holy shit,” Kasyanov said. “Holy shit, holy shit…”

“He does that,” Ripley said, shrugging.

“We’ll be taking him with us?” Kasyanov asked.

Ripley hadn’t even thought about that. On a shuttle built for one, four was bad enough. They still had to prepare for the extraordinary length of their journey— coolant for the shuttle’s atmosphere processor, filters for the water purifier, food, other supplies. But with a cat as well? With them taking turns in the stasis pod, Jonesy might not even live long enough to survive the journey.

But she couldn’t even contemplate the thought of leaving him behind.

“Let’s cross that one when we come to it,” Hoop said. “Come on. I’ve got work to do.”

It felt strange to Ripley, entering the Narcissus one more time. The urgency was still there, but this time with a different group of people. The danger was still imminent, but now it was compounded—a crashing ship, an alien somewhere on board, as well as one of them just waiting to give birth to another beast.

Jonesy jumped from her arms and leapt delicately into the stasis pod, snuggling down in the covered lower section, out of sight. Ripley so wanted to do the same.

“Kasyanov,” she said. She felt suddenly woozy again, as if the ship was shaking and changing direction. Maybe this is it, she thought, maybe we’re crashing and…

Hoop caught her as she stumbled. Kasyanov stripped the suit top from her shoulder and blood flowed freely, darkening the suit and dripping on the floor.

“Staples have popped,” Kasyanov said. “I’ll re-do them. This first.” Before Ripley could object, the doctor slid a small needle into her shoulder and squeezed the pouch on its end. Numbness spread. The pain receded. Her right hand tingled, then all feeling faded away.

She’d never be able to hold the plasma torch now.

Hoop moved back through the shuttle to the small hatch leading into the engine compartment. He half-crawled inside, looked around for a while, and emerged again.

“I’m going to be in here for a while,” he said. He paused, frowning, thinking. “Okay. We can stay in touch using the suit helmets. Ripley, stay here with me. Kasyanov, you and the others need to get into the Marion and start gathering what we’ll need.”

“I’ll go with them,” Ripley said.

“No, you’re hurt.”

“I can still walk, and carry supplies,” she said. “We’ll shut the Narcissus ’s outer door behind us, so you won’t have to worry about anything coming inside and disturbing you. Stay here, work. Fix it well.” She smiled.

“It’ll work,” Hoop said. “But don’t take risks. Any of you. Not with that thing running around, and not with… you know.”