Alan Dean Foster - Alien

Dallas did not have a reply for that.

Ripley would have given up on the search if she'd had anything better to do. She did not. Playing at the ECIU board was better than wandering around an empty ship or staring at the vacant seats surrounding her.

Unexpectedly, a realignment of priorities in her querying jogged something within the ship's Brobdingnagian store of information. The resultant readout appeared on the screen so abruptly she almost erased it and continued with the next series before she realized she actually had received a sensible response. The trouble with computers, she thought, was that they had no intuitive senses. Only deductive ones. You had to ask the right question.

She studied the readout avidly, frowned, punched for elaboration. Sometimes Mother could be unintentionally evasive. You had to know how to weed out the confusing subtleties.

This time, however, the readout was clear enough, left no room for misunderstanding. She wished fervently that it had. She jabbed at the intercom. A voice answered promptly.

'Science blister. What is it, Ripley?'

'This is urgent, Ash.' She spoke in short, anxious gasps. 'I finally got something out of the Bank, via ECIU. It might have just come through, I don't know. That's not what matters.'

'Congratulations.'

'Never mind that,' she snapped worriedly. 'Mother has apparently deciphered part of the alien transmission. She's not positive about this, but from what I read I'm afraid that transmission may not be an SOS.'

That quieted Ash, but only for an instant. When he replied his voice was as controlled as ever, despite the import of Ripley's announcement. She marveled at his self-control.

'If it's not a distress call, then what is it?' he asked quietly. 'And why the nervous tone? You are nervous, aren't you?'

'You bet your ass I'm nervous! Worse than that, if Mother's correct. Like I said, she's not positive. But she thinks that signal may be a warning.'

'What kind of warning?'

'What difference does it make, "what kind of warning"!'

'There is no reason to shout.'

Ripley took a couple of short breaths, counted to five. 'We have to get through to them. They've got to know about this right away.'

'I agree,' said Ash readily. 'But it's no use. Once they went inside the alien ship we lost them completely. I've had no contact with them for some time now. The combination of their proximity to the alien transmitter coupled with the peculiar composition of the vessel's hull has defeated every attempt of mine at re-establishing communication. And believe me, I've tried!' His next comment came off sounding like a challenge.

'You can try to raise them yourself, if you like. I'll help in any way I can.'

'Look, I'm not questioning your competence, Ash. If you say we can't contact them, we can't contact them. But damn it, we've got to let them know!'

'What do you suggest?'

She hesitated, then said firmly,?I'm going out after them. I'll tell them in person.'

'I don't think so.'

'Is that an order, Ash?' She knew that in an emergency situation of this kind the science officer outranked her.

'No, it's common sense. Can you see that? Use your head, Ripley,' he urged her. 'I know you don't like me much, but try to view this rationally.'

'We simply can't spare the personnel. With you and me, plus Parker and Brett, we've got minimum take-off capability right now. Three off, four on. That's the rules. That's why Dallas left us all on board. If you go running after them, for whatever reason, we're stuck here until someone comes back. If they don't come back, no one will know what's happened here.' He paused, added, 'Besides, we've no reason to assume anything. They're probably fine.'

'All right.' She admitted it grudgingly. 'I concede your point. But this is a special situation. I still think someone should go after them.'

She'd never heard Ash sigh and he didn't do so now, but he gave her the impression of a man resigned to handling a Hobson's choice.

'What's the point?' He said it evenly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'In the time it would take one of us to get there, they'll know if it's an operative warning. Am I wrong or am I right?'

Ripley didn't reply, simply sat staring dully at Ash on the monitor. The science officer gazed steadily back at her. What she couldn't see was the diagram on his console monitor. She would have found it very interesting. .

Refreshed by the brief rest, Kane kicked away from the smooth wall of the shaft and continued downward. He kicked off a second time, waited for the impact of his booted feet contacting the hard side. They did not, sailed off into emptiness. The walls of the shaft had vanished. He was swinging in emptiness, hanging from the end of the cable.

Some kind of room, maybe another chamber like the big one above, he thought. Whatever it was, he'd emerged from the bottom of the shaft into it. He was breathing hard from the exertion of the descent and the increased warmth.

Funny, but the darkness seemed to press more tightly about him now that he was out of the shaft than it had when he'd been dropping within its narrow confines. He thought about what lay below him, how far away it might be, and what could happen to him if the cable broke now.

Easy, Kane, he told himself. Keep thinking of diamonds. Bright, many-faceted big ones, clear and flawless and fat with carats. Not of this fog-like blackness you're twirling through, redolent of alien ghosts and memories and. .

Damn, he was doing it again.

'See anything?'

Startled, he gave a reflexive jerk on the cable and started swinging again. He used the mechanism to steady himself, cleared his throat before replying. He had to remind himself that he wasn't alone down here. Dallas and Lambert waited just above, not that far distant. A modest hike southwest of the derelict lay the Nostromo, full of coffee, familiar sweat smells, and the patient comforts of deep sleep.

For an instant he found himself wishing desperately that he was back aboard her. Then he told himself that there were no diamonds aboard the tug, and certainly no glory. Both might still be found here.

'No, nothing. There's a cave or room below me. I've slipped clear of the shaft.'

'Cave? Keep ahold of yourself, Kane. You're still in the ship.'

'Am I? Remember what was said about shafts? Maybe that's right after all.'

'Then you ought to be swimming in your goddamn diamonds any minute now.'

Both men chuckled, Dallas's sounding hollow and distorted over the helmet speakers. Kane tried to shake some of the sweat from his forehead. That was the trouble with suits. When they kept you cool they were great, but when you started sweating you couldn't wipe a thing except your faceplate.

'Okay, so it's not a cave. But it feels like the tropics down here.' Leaning over slightly, he checked his waist instruments. He was far enough below the surface to be in a cave, but so far he'd found nothing to indicate he was anywhere but inside the bowels of the alien ship.

There was one way to find out. Locate the bottom.

'What's the air like down there? Besides hot.'

Another check, different readouts this time. 'Pretty much the same as outside. High nitrogen content, little to no oxy. Water vapor concentration's even higher down here, thanks to the temperature rise. I'll take a sample if you want. Ash can have fun playing with it.'

'Never mind that now. Keep going.'

Kane thumbed a switch. His belt recorded the approximate atmospheric composition at his present level. That should make Ash happy, though a sample would have been better. Still puffing, Kane activated the unit on his chest. With a confident hum, it resumed lowering him slowly.

It was lonelier than falling through space. Spinning slowly as the wire unwound, he dropped through total darkness, not a star or nebula in sight.