Alan Dean Foster - Alien - 3

‘Hey, Dillon!’

The big man removed the smoker from his lips. ‘You’re interrupting a private discussion, brother.’

Morse glanced anew at Ripley, then back to his fellow prisoner. ‘Put it on hold. I think we got a very large fucking problem, mate.’

Aaron was no medical tech, but it didn’t take a doctor to see how the two men had been killed. Their heads had been bashed in. That wasn’t the alien’s technique. The bloody club lying nearby only confirmed his suspicions. As for the one who’d killed them, he hadn’t profited by his deed. Golic’s mutilated corpse lay nearby.

Aaron rose to join the others in gazing numbly at the gap in the toxic storage chamber’s doorway. Dillon had stuck a torch inside, confirmed that it was empty.

‘This cuts it,’ the acting superintendent muttered angrily.

‘Miserable son of a bitch let it loose. Crazy fucker. Got what he deserved, by God. Now what the fuck are we gonna do?

Andrews was right. We should’ve kept the dumb shithead chained up or sedated. Stupid-ass rehab “experts”.’ He paused, eying Ripley with some concern. ‘What’s the matter? Side effects again?’

She was leaning against the wall for support, sucking air in long, awkward gasps and holding her stomach with her other hand.

‘Piss on her,’ Morse growled. ‘The fuckin’ thing’s loose out there.’ He looked around wildly. ‘Now what the fuck are we gonna do?’

‘I just said that,’ Aaron growled. ‘You’re the dumb prick that let Golic go. You miserable little shit, you’ve killed all of us!’

For a man of undistinguished physique he packed an impressive punch. Morse went down hard, blood streaming from his nose. As the acting superintendent loomed over him he was grabbed from behind. Dillon easily lifted him off the floor and set him aside. Aaron glared back at the big man, panting.

‘Cut that shit out,’ Dillon warned him.

‘Watch yourself, Dillon! I’m still in charge here.’

‘I ain’t disputing it. But you don’t be doin’ that. You get me?

You don’t be beating on the brothers. That’s my job.’

They regarded each other a moment longer. Then Aaron took a deep breath and looked away, back down at the cringing Morse. ‘Then tell your fuckin’ bozo to shape up. All this shit is his fault!’

Dillon ignored both of them as he turned to Ripley. ‘What do you think? We took care of it once. We still got a chance?’

She was still leaning against the wall, breathing hard, her expression twisted. Her head was killing her. When she finally looked up her face was knotted with pain and nausea.

‘I need. . I need to get to the EEV.’

‘Yeah, sure, but first we got to decide what to do about the creature.’

‘No.’ She shook her head sharply, her eyes watering slightly.

‘EEV first. . now.’

Aaron watched her anxiously. ‘Yeah, okay. No problem.

Whatever you say. But why?’

‘The neuroscanner. I need to use one of the scanners that are built into every cryotube. I don’t know if you’ve got anything similar in the infirmary but it wouldn’t matter if you did.

Clemens is gone, and I only know how to operate the instrumentation on the EEV. If it’s still functional.’ She winced, bending forward and clutching at her belly.

Dillon took a step toward her, beating Aaron to her side. This time she didn’t object to the hands that helped steady her. She leaned against the big man for support until her breathing slowed.

‘What the hell’s wrong with you? You don’t look so good.’

‘Side effects from medication Clemens was giving her,’ Aaron told him. His gaze narrowed uncertainly. ‘I think.’

‘Who gives a shit what’s wrong with her?’ Morse snapped.

‘What are we gonna do?’

Aaron glared at him. ‘You want to hit your back again, you little dork? Shut the fuck up and quit causin’ panic.’

Morse didn’t back off. ‘Panic! You’re so goddam dumb, you couldn’t spell it. Don’t tell me about panic! We ought to panic!

We’re screwed!’

‘Yeah! And who’s fault is it?’

‘Both of you, shut up!’ Dillon roared.

For a moment there was silence as each man glared at his neighbour but did not speak. Eventually Aaron shrugged.

‘Okay, I’m out of ideas. What do we do?’

‘What about the beach?’ Morse opined hopefully.

‘Right,’ the acting superintendent responded sarcastically.

‘The sun won’t be up for another week, and when it’s down it’s forty below zero outside. The rescue team is ten hours away, so that makes a lot of sense.’

‘Wonderful,’ Morse grumbled as Ripley turned and wandered off. ‘So you just want us to stay here and let this fuckin’ beast eat us for lunch.’

‘Get everybody that’s still left together,’ Dillon told him abruptly. ‘Get ‘em to the assembly hall. Lieutenant, you can—’

He looked around, puzzled. ‘Where’d she go?’

Within the vast unloading bay the Emergency Escape Vehicle rested where it had been left, undisturbed and looking lonely in the flickering industrial gloom. Footsteps echoed along walkways, precise and finite in the metalwalled pit. Faint illumination preceded feet, lighting the way through the semi-darkness.

Ripley stripped down in the cramped quarters, carefully setting her clothes aside. Naked, she sat down opposite a small keyboard. Several attempts were required before it flickered to life.

Her fingers worked the keyboard. She paused, played the keys again, then sat staring thoughtfully at the information displayed on the small screen. Rising, she left the readout and turned to the cryotube that had conveyed her to Fiorina.

It was an effort to squeeze back inside, and when she turned to work on the keyboard her hand barely reached.

‘You need some help?’

She stared at Aaron’s sudden appearance.

‘Hey, didn’t mean to scare you. Look, you shouldn’t be wandering around alone.’

‘I’ve heard that one before. Do me a favour. Run the keyboard. I can’t reach over and see what I’m doing.’

He nodded and took the seat as she settled back into the tube. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Very little, I hope. The procedure’s pretty straightforward.

You ready?’ she asked, not turning her head to face him.

He gazed at the screen, willing but baffled by the multiple options and instructions. ‘I guess so. What do I do now?’

‘Ignore the technospeak. There’s an option menu at the bottom.’

His eyes dropped and he found himself nodding. ‘I see it.

What next?’

‘Hit either B or C. What’s C?’

He studied the glowing print. ‘Display biofunctions.’

‘That’s it.’

On his command the screen was replaced by another, no less complicated than its predecessor. ‘Okay, now I’ve got a whole page of new turkeytalk.’

‘Same procedure. Menu at the bottom. There should be a V

command, for visual display. Hit it.’

He complied, glancing back toward the cylinder.

Within the claustrophobic confines of the tube a small motor began to hum. Ripley shifted uncomfortably on the cushioned pallet, feeling very much like a bug under a microscope. Her surroundings suddenly pressed close around her, the wall and ceiling of the EEV threatening to collapse and pin her forever in place. She concentrated on keeping her heartbeat regular, her breathing steady as she closed her eyes. It helped, a little.

The display monitor in front of Aaron flickered. The incomprehensible technical information vanished,

to be

replaced by an in-depth medical percep scan of the inside of Ripley’s head.

‘Okay,’ he told her, ‘we’re hot. I’m looking at your brain. The scanner’s also printing a lot of information next to the image, and there’s all sorts of option switches at the bottom of the screen.’