Alien

She nodded. 'Yeah. It's too late to argue about the lock. I might've been wrong on that. But keeping that thing on board, dead or not, after what it's done to Kane.?

He tried to mollify her. 'We don't know for sure that it's done anything to Kane except knock him out. According to the readouts there's nothing else wrong with him.

'As to retaining it on board, I just run this ship. I'm only a pilot.'

'You're the captain.'

'A title of last resort, one that means nothing in specified situations. Parker can overrule me on a point of engineering. On anything that has to do with the science division, Ash has the final word.'

'And how does that happen?' She sounded more curious than bitter, now.

'Same way that everything else happens. On orders from the Company. Read your own directory.'

'Since when is it standard procedure?'

He was getting a touch exasperated. 'Come on, Ripley. This isn't a military vessel. You know as well as I that standard procedure is what they tell you to do. That principle includes the independence of different departments, like science. If I believed otherwise, I'm not sure I would've set down here.'

'What's the matter? Visions of discovery bonuses fading before the specter of a dead man?'

'You know better than that,' he said sharply. 'There isn't a bonus large enough to trade for Kane's good health. Too late for that, now. We're here, and it's happened.

'Look, ease up on me, will you? I just haul cargo for a living. If I wanted to be a real explorer and go gallivanting off after discovery bonuses I would've joined the Rim Corps. Gotten my head torn off at least half a dozen times by now. Glory. . no thanks. Not for me. I'll settle for having my executive officer back again.'

She didn't reply this time, sat silently for several minutes. When she spoke the next time, the bitterness was gone. 'You and Kane been together on many flights?'

'Enough to know each other.' Dallas kept his voice level, eyes on his console.

'What about Ash?'

'You going to start in on that again?' He sighed. There was nowhere to run. 'What about him?'

'Same thing. You say you know Kane. Do you know Ash? Have you ever shipped with him before?'

'No.' The thought didn't bother Dallas in the least. 'This is the first time. I went five hauls, long and short, various cargos, with another science officer. Then two days before we left Thedus, they replaced him with Ash.'

She stared at him significantly.

'So what?' he snapped at her. 'They also replaced my old warrant officer with you.'

'I don't trust him.'

'Sound attitude. Now me. . I don't trust anyone.' Time, he thought, to change the subject. From what he'd seen so far, Ash was a fine officer, if a bit stiff when it came to being one of the gang. But personal intimacy wasn't a necessity on voyages where you spent most of your time except arriving and departing in the narcosis of hypersleep. As long as the man did his job, Dallas didn't give a damn about his personality. Thus far, there'd been no reason to question Ash's competency.

'What's holding up repairs?' he asked her.

She glanced at her chronometre, did some quick figuring. 'They ought to be pretty much finished by now. Shouldn't have to do more than fine-check.'

'Why didn't you say so?'

'There are still some things left to do, I'm sure, or they would've said something. Listen, you think I'm stalling for Parker, of all people?'

'No. What's left to do?'

She ran a fast request through her board. 'We're still blind on B and C decks. Scanners blew and need to be completely replaced there.'

'I don't give a damn about seeing B and C decks. I know what they look like. Anything else?'

'Reserve power systems blew just after we touched down. Remember the trouble with the secondaries?'

'But the main drivers are fixed?' She nodded. 'Then that stuff about the reserves is crap. We can take off without them, get back into hypersleep, and do some real travelling instead of hanging around here.'

'Is that a good idea? About taking off without having the secondaries fixed, I mean.'

'Maybe not. But I want out of here, and I want out now. We've investigated that signal all we're going to and there's nobody here to rescue except Kane. Let some properly equipped Company expedition set down and go digging around that derelict. That's not what we're paid for. We've complied with the directives. Now I've had enough. Let's get this turkey off the ground.'

They settled into their roles on the bridge. Kane and the dead alien were forgotten. Everything was forgotten, except take-off procedure. They were a unit now. Personal animosities and opinions were submerged in the desire to get the tug off the ground and back into clean, open space.

'Primary drive activated,' Ash reported, up from the infirmary and back at his regular station.

'Check.' This from Lambert.

'Secondaries still not functioning, sir.' Ripley frowned at the crimson readout on her overhead console.

'Yeah, I know. Navigator, are we set?'

Lambert studied her board. 'Orbital re-entry computed and entered. I'm matching up positions with the refinery now. Have it in a second. There.' She hit a series of buttons in sequence. Numbers flashed above Dallas's head.

'Good enough. We'll correct when we're up, if necessary. Stand by for lift-off.'

Swathed in roiling dust, the Nostromo began to vibrate. A roaring rose over the howl of the storm, a man-made thunder that echoed across lava hillocks,and shattered hexagonal basalt columns.

'Standing by,' said Ripley.

Dallas glanced across at Ash. 'How's she holding?'

The science officer studied his gauges. 'Everything's working. For how long, I can't say.'

'Just long enough to get us up.' Dallas flipped on the intercom. 'Parker, how do we look from down there? Can we make it out without engaging the deep drive?'

If they couldn't break gravity on the primary drive, Dallas knew, they'd have to cut in the hyper to get them out. But a second or two of hyperdrive would throw them completely out of this system. That would mean relocating it and using precious wake time to link up once more with their cargo. And wake time translated as air. Minutes equaled litres. The Nostromo could continue to recycle their meager supply of breathing material only so long. When their lungs started rejecting it, they'd have to go back into the freezers whether they'd found the refinery or not.

Dallas thought of the gigantic floating factory, tried to imagine how long it would take for them to pay for it on their various modest salaries.

Parker's reply was hopeful, if not exactly encouraging. 'Okay. But remember, this is just a patch job. Need shipyard equipment to make proper repairs.'

'Will she hold together?'

'Ought to, unless we hit too much turbulence going up. That might blow the new cells. . and that's all she said. No way we could fix them again.'

'So take it easy,' Brett added from his seat in the engineering cubicle.

'I hear you. We'll watch it. All we have to do is reach zero-gee and we can go hyper all the way into Sol. Then the damn cells can go like popcorn if they want to. But until we're up and out, you keep them intact if you have to hold them steady with your bare hands.'

'Do our best,' said Parker.

'Check. Bridge out.' Dallas turned to face the Nostromo's warrant officer. Ripley was presently doubling duty for the incapacitated Kane. 'Take us up a hundred metres and bring in the landing struts.' He turned his attention to his own console. 'I'll keep her steady.'

'Up a hundred.' Ripley touched controls.

The thunder intensified outside as the tug lifted from the parched, dust-blasted surface. The ship hovered a hundred metres above the ground, dust racing confusedly beneath it. Massive leg-like pillars that had supported the Nostromo now folded neatly into her metal belly.