The exec shrugged. 'Why not?'
'I hear you. Okay.' It was accepted that Dallas would be a member of the little expedition. He glanced around the bridge for a candidate to complete the party. 'Lambert. You too.'
She didn't look happy. 'Swell. Why me?'
'Why not you? You're our designated direction finder. Let's see how good you are outside your seat.' He started for the corridor, paused, and said matter-of-factly, 'One more thing. We're probably faced with a dead derelict and a repeating beacon or we'd likely have heard from any survivors by now. But we still can't be sure what we'll run into. This world doesn't appear to be teeming with life, inimical or otherwise, but we won't take unnecessary risks. Let's get out some weapons.' He hesitated as Ripley moved to join them.
'Three is the maximum I can let off ship, Ripley. You'll have to wait your turn out.'
'I'm not going out,' she told him. 'I like it here. It's just that I've done everything I can here. Parker and Brett are going to need help with the fine work while they're trying to fix those ducts. . '
It was entirely too hot back in the engine room, despite the best efforts of the tug's cooling unit. The trouble stemmed from the amount of welding Parker and Brett had to do and the cramped quarters they were forced to work in. The air near the thermostats would remain comparatively cool, while that around the weld itself could overheat rapidly.
The laser welder itself wasn't at fault. It generated a relatively cool beam. But where metal melted and flowed together to form a fresh seal, heat was generated as a by-product. Both men were working with shirts off and the sweat streamed down their naked torsos.
Nearby, Ripley leaned against a wall and used a peculiar tool to pop out a protective panel. Complex aggregations of coloured wire and tiny geometric shapes were exposed to the light. Two small sections were charred black. Using another tool, she dug the damaged components out, searched in the loaded satchel slung over one shoulder for the proper replacements.
As she was snapping the first of them into place, Parker was shutting off the laser. He examined the current weld critically. 'Not bad, if I do say so.' He turned to look back at Ripley. Sweat was making her tunic stick to her chest.
'Hey Ripley. . I got a question.'
She didn't glance back from her work. A second new module snapped neatly into place beside the first, like a tooth being replanted in its socket.
'Yeah? I'm listening.'
'Do we get to go out on the expedition or are we stuck in here until everything's fixed? We've already restored power. The rest of this stuff,' and he indicated the battered engine room with a sharp wave of one hand, 'is cosmetic. Nothing that can't wait for a few days.'
'You both know the answer to that.' She sat back, rubbed her hands as she looked over at him. 'The captain picked his pair, and that's that. Nobody else can go out until they come back and report. Three out, four on, That's the rules.' She paused at a sudden thought, eyed him knowingly.
'That's not what's bothering you, is it? You're worried about what they might find. Or have we all misjudged you and you're really a high-minded seeker after knowledge, a true devotee of pushing back the frontiers of the known universe?'
'Hell, no.' Parker didn't seem the least offended by Ripley's casual sarcasm. 'I'm a true devotee of pushing back the frontiers of my bank account. So. . what about shares in case they find anything valuable?'
Ripley looked bored. 'Don't worry. You'll both get what's coming to you.' She started to hunt through the parts satchel for a certain solid-state module to fill the last remaining damaged section in the open square of wall.
'I'm not doing any more work,' Brett suddenly announced, 'unless we're guaranteed full shares.'
Ripley found the necessary part, moved to place it within the wall. 'You're each guaranteed by contract that you'll receive a share in anything we find. Both of you know that. Now knock it off and get back to work.' She turned away, began to check to make certain the newly installed modules were operating properly.
Parker stared hard at her, opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it. She was the ship's warrant officer. Antagonizing her would do them no good at all. He'd made his point and been rebuffed. Better to leave it at that, no matter how he felt inside. He could be logical when the situation demanded it.
Angrily, he snapped the laser back on, started to seal another section of ruptured duct.
Brett, handling the power and train for the welder, said to no one in particular, 'Right.'
Dallas, Kane, and Lambert made their way down a narrow corridor. They now wore boots, jackets, and gloves in addition to their insulated work pants. They carried laser pistols, miniature versions of the welder currently being used by Parker and Brett.
They stopped outside a massive door well marked with warning symbols and words.
MAIN AIRLOCK: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
Dallas always found the admonition amusingly redundant, since there could be no such thing as an unauthorized person aboard the ship, and anyone authorized to be aboard was authorized to use the airlock.
Kane touched a switch. A protective shield popped back, revealed three buttons hidden beneath. He depressed them in proper sequence. There was a whine and the door moved out of their way. They entered.
Seven vacuum suits were arranged on the walls. They were bulky, awkward, and absolutely necessary for this hike if Ash's evaluations of the outside were even half accurate. They helped one another into the life-supporting artificial skins, checked out each other's suit functions.
Then it was time to don helmets. This was done with proper solemnity and care, everyone taking turns making certain his neighbour's seal was tight.
Dallas checked out Kane's helmet, Kane checked Lambert, and she performed the same service for the captain. They executed this tripartite play with utmost seriousness, the spacefarers' equivalent of three apes grooming one another. Automatic regulators were engaged. Soon all three were breathing the slightly stale but healthy air from their respective tanks.
Dallas used a gloved hand, activated the helmet's internal communicator. 'I'm sending. Do you hear me?'
'Receiving,' announced Kane, pausing, to boost the power on his own pickup. 'You read me back?' Dallas nodded, turned to the still sullen Lambert.
'Come on, Lambert,' Dallas said, trying to cheer her. 'I chose you for your abilities, not your sunny disposition.'
'Thanks for the flattery,' she replied dryly, 'and thanks for nothing. Why couldn't you have taken Ash or Parker? They'd probably have loved the chance to go.'
'Ash has to remain on board. You know that. Parker has work to do back in the engine room and couldn't navigate his way out of a paper bag without instruments. I don't care if you curse me every metre of the way. Just make sure we find the source of that damned signal.'
'Yeah. Wonderful.'
'All right, we're set, then. Keep away from the weapons unless I say otherwise.'
'You expecting friendly company?' Kane looked dubious.
'Hope for the best rather than the worst.' He thumbed the communicator's exterior suit controls, opened another channel. 'Ash, you there?'
It was Ripley who responded. 'He's on his way down to the science blister. Give him a couple of minutes.'
'Check.' He turned to Kane. 'Close inner hatch.' The exec hit the necessary controls and the door slid shut behind them. 'Now open the outer.'
Kane repeated the procedure that had admitted them to the lock. After the last button had been depressed, he stood back with the others and waited. Unconsciously, Lambert pressed her suit back against the inner lock door, an instinctive reaction to the approaching unknown.
The outer hatch slid aside. Clouds of dust and steam drifted before the three humans. The predawn light was the colour of burnt orange. It wasn't the familiar, comforting yellow of Sol, but Dallas had hopes it might improve as the sun continued to rise. It gave them enough light to see by, though there was little enough to see in that dense, particle-thick air.