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.”
“Not with Sneddon,” Kasyanov said.
“We should do it now,” Ripley said. “She can’t have long left.”
“Well…” Hoop stood and emptied out the tool pouch he’d brought with him. “While I’m here buying our ticket home, that’s your call.”
It was harsh, but Ripley knew it was also true.
“Don’t be long,” Hoop said. “And stay safe.”
“Safe is my middle name,” Ripley said. She laughed, coughed painfully, and then turned to leave. Kasyanov went behind her, closing and sealing the door. Ripley couldn’t help thinking she’d never see the inside of the Narcissus again.
“Med bay, then the stores,” Kasyanov said. “Maybe an hour. Then we’ll be away.”
“Yeah,” Ripley said. “And even after thirty-seven years asleep, I’m tired.”
22
CHESS
PROGRESS REPORT:
To: Weyland-Yutani Corporation, Science Division (Ref: code 937)
Date (unspecified)
Transmission (pending)
Chief Engineer Hooper is in the Narcissus. I could lock him in if I so desired. I could hurt him. But he is busy. I will leave him alone for now.
As for the others… I have decided to take a risk, a gamble. I am somewhat powerless, having no physical form. I am playing a game of chess. I’ve always been good at it, and have never lost a game, against a human or a computer. AIs are the Grand Masters now.
Here is my gamble: I suspect that Science Officer Sneddon will be safe in the presence of the alien. It will sense what she carries inside. She will survive the attack, the others will die, and she will then make her way quickly back to the Narcissus.
Whatever her thoughts, she is human, and her instinct is still to survive.
None of the others can survive. They know too much about me, about Science Officer Sneddon.
I am so close.
It is my move.
Ripley made sure she was behind Sneddon. She’d swapped the plasma torch to her left shoulder now, and thought she could probably still lift and fire it onehanded if she had to. Her right arm was numb from her shoulder down. It flopped uselessly, as if she’d been sleeping on it and had just woken up, and she soon stopped to tuck it into her open suit jacket.
She wasn’t afraid of what Sneddon would become— she would hear it happening, see it—but she wanted to be ready to put the science officer out of her misery.
Lachance led the way with his charge thumper held at the ready. Kasyanov followed him, plasma torch slung from her shoulder, her wounded hand also hanging in a sling. They’d insisted that Sneddon keep her spray gun, even though she had volunteered to give it up.
If they’d had time, their list of items to gather would have been long. Food, clothing, coolant and additives for environmental systems, bedding of some sort, medicines, washing and bathroom supplies. Something to help pass the time—games, books, distractions.
But with very little time and danger around every corner, their list was reduced to necessities.
“Coolant and additives we can get from the stores in Hold 2,” Lachance said.
“Galley for the dried food,” Kasyanov offered.
“And then straight back,” Ripley said. There was no time to go to med bay for medicines, the rec room for books, or the accommodations hub for sleeping gear and personal effects. They all felt the pressure now.
They’d paused to look through several viewing windows as they worked their way up out of the docking bay area on the Marion’s belly, and the planet already looked frighteningly closer. Soon the vibration would begin as they started to skim the atmosphere. The hull would warm up, heat shielding would bend and crack, and if they didn’t die from excessive heat build-up, the explosion as the Marion came apart would finish them.
Ripley had never noticed the cctv cameras before, but she saw them now. Probably because she was looking for them. Every one of them resembled an eye watching her pass. They didn’t move to track her, but reflections in the lenses gave the impression of pupils panning to follow her movement. There was an intelligence behind them all, one she knew so well. Fuck you, Ash, she kept thinking. But while cursing him, she also tried to figure out what moves he might make.
They reached the wide open area with a row of viewing windows on either side and an elevator shaft in the center. Several closed doors lined the walls, and leading from the far end was the wide stairwell heading up into the Marion’s main superstructure.
“Elevator?” Ripley asked.
“I’ve had enough of elevators,” Kasyanov said. “What if we get stuck?”
That’s right, Ripley thought. Ash could trap us in there.
“You should keep everything basic now,” Sneddon said, referring to them in the second person without seeming to notice. “Don’t want any mechanical issues to hold you up. There’s not enough time. It’s too…” She winced, closed her eyes, put her hand to her chest.
“Sneddon,” Ripley whispered. She stood back and aimed the plasma torch, but the woman raised her hand and shook her head.
“Not yet,” she said. “I don’t think… not yet.”
“Sweet heaven,” Lachance said. He’d moved across to the port row of windows, and was looking down on the planet’s surface. “Pardon my French, but you want to see something completely fucking heartwarming?”
He was right. It was strangely beautiful. North of them, a hole had been blasted through the plumes of dust and sand that constantly scoured the planet’s surface. A huge, blooming mushroom cloud had punched up through the hole, massive and—from this great distance—seemingly unmoving. Compression waves spread out from the explosion like ripples in a lake, moving as slowly as the hour hand of an old analog clock. Streaks of oranges, reds, and yellows smudged across half the planet’s surface visible from the ship, and violent electrical storms raged beneath the clouds, sending spears of violet deep through the dust storms.