can.'
'Might be someone's idea of a lock.' Kane studied the interior of the opening they now were entering. 'Not mine.'
Dallas was already inside. 'Surface is firm. Secondary door or hatch or whatever it was is open also.' A pause, then, 'There's a big chamber back here.'
'What about light?' Lambert fingered her own lightbar, slung at her waist opposite her pistol.
'Seems to be enough for now. Save power until we need it. Come on in.'
Kane and Lambert followed him through, down a short corridor. They emerged into a high-ceiling room. If there were controls, gauges, or any kind of instrumentation in this section of the ship they were concealed behind grey walls. Looking remarkably like the inside of a human rib cage, rounded metal ribbings braced floor, roof, and walls. Ghost light from outside danced on dust particles suspended in the nearly motionless air of the eerie chamber.
Dallas eyed his executive officer. 'What do you think?'
'I dunno. Cargo chamber, maybe? Or part of a complicated lock system? Yeah, that's it. We just passed through a double door and this here is the real lock.'
'Mighty big for just an airlock.' Lambert's voice sounded subdued in their helmets.
'Just guessing. If the inhabitants of this ship were to its scale what we are to the Nostromo, they'd likely need a lock this size. But I admit the cargo-hold idea makes more sense. Might even explain the need for three entryways.' He turned, saw Dallas leaning over a black hole in the floor.
'Hey, watch it, Dallas! No telling what might be down there, or how deep it goes.'
'The ship is standing open to the outside and nothing's taken notice of our entry. I don't think there's anything alive in here.' Dallas unclipped his lightbar, flipped it on, and directed the brilliant beam downward.
'See anything?' Lambert asked.
'Yeah.' Kane smirked. 'Like a rabbit with a watch?' He sounded almost hopeful.
'Can't see a damn thing.' Dallas moved the light slowly from one side to the other. It was a narrow beam, but powerful. It would show anything lying a modest distance below them.
'What is it?' Lambert had walked over to stand alongside him, kept a careful distance from the abyss. 'Another cargo chamber?'
'No way of telling from here. It just goes down. Smooth walls as far as my light will reach. No indication of handholds, an elevator, ladder, or any other means of descent. I can't see the bottom. Light won't reach. Must be an access shaft of some kind.' He turned off his light, moved a metre away from the hole, and began unclipping gear from his belt and backpack. He laid it out on the floor, rose, and glanced around the dimly illuminated, grey chamber.
'Whatever's downstairs will wait. Let's have a look around here first. I want to make sure there aren't any surprises. We might even find an easier way down.' He flicked his light on once more, played it over nearby walls. Despite their resemblance to a whale's insides, they remained gratifyingly motionless.
'Spread out. . but not too far. Under no circumstances walk out of unlighted view of one another. This shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes.'
Kane and Lambert activated their own lightbars. Travelling in a line, they started to explore the vast room.
Fragments of some shattered grey material lay scattered about. Much of it was buried beneath the tiny dust dunes and finely ground pumice that had invaded the ship. Kane ignored the stuff. They were hunting for something intact.
Dallas's light fell unexpectedly on a shape that was not part of wall or floor. Moving closer, he used the light to trace its outlines. It appeared to be a smallish urn or vase, tan in colour, glossy in aspect. Moving closer, he tilted his head over the jagged, broken top, shone the light inside.
Empty.
Disappointed, he walked away, wondering that something seemingly so fragile had remained relatively undisturbed while other more durable substances had apparently withered and cracked. Though for all he knew, the composition of the urn might test the melting ability of his pistol.
He was almost ready to return to the shaft in the floor when his light fell on something complex and boldly mechanical. Within the semi-organic confines of the alien ship its reassuringly functional appearance was a great relief, though the design itself was utterly unfamiliar.
'Over here!'
'Something wrong?' That was Kane.
'Not a thing. I've found a mechanism.'
Lambert and Kane rushed to join him, their boots raising little puffs of animated dust. They added their own lights to Dallas's. All seemed quiet and dead, though Dallas had the impression of patient power functioning smoothly somewhere behind those strangely contoured panels. And evidence of mechanical life was provided by the sight of a single metal bar moving steadily back and forth on its grooved track, though it made, according to suit sensors, not a sound.
'Looks like it's still functioning. Wonder how long its been running like this.' Kane examined the device, fascinated. 'Wonder what it does.'
'I can tell you that.' They turned to Lambert. She confirmed what Dallas had already guessed. She was holding her finder, the same instrument that had led them here from the Nostromo. 'It's the transmitter. Automatic distress call, just like we imagined it might be. It looks clean enough to be brand new, though it's likely been putting out that signal for years.' She shrugged. 'Maybe decades. Or longer.'
Dallas ran a small instrument over the surface of the alien device. 'Electrostatic repulsion. That explains the absence of dust. Too bad. There isn't much wind in here and the depth of the dust might give us a clue to how long the machine's been set up. It looks portable.' He turned the scanner off, slipped it back into its waist holder.
'Anyone else find anything?' They both shook their heads.
'Just ribbed walls and dust.' Kane sounded discouraged.
'No indication of another opening leading to a different part of the ship? No other floor gaps?' Again the double negative responses. 'That leaves us with the first shaft, or trying to bore a hole through the nearest wall. We'll try the first before we go slicing things up.' He noticed Kane's expression. 'Giving up?'
'Not yet. I will if we run through every centimetre of this big grey bastard and don't find anything besides blank walls and sealed machines.'
'That wouldn't bother me a bit,' said Lambert with feeling.
They retraced their steps, carefully positioned themselves close to the lip of the flush, circular opening in the deck. Dallas knelt, moving slowly in the suit, and felt as best he could of the shaft's rim.
'Can't tell much with these damned gloves on, but it feels regular. The shaft must be a normal part of the ship. I thought it might've been caused by an explosion. That is a distress call we're picking up.'
Lambert studied the hole. 'A shaped charge could make a smooth hole like that.'
'You'll do anything to make a guy feel good, won't you?' Dallas felt disappointed. 'But I still think it's a normal part of this ship. The sides are too regular, even for a shaped charge, no matter how powerful.'
'Just giving my opinion.'
'Either way, it's look down below, blow a hole in a wall, or go back outside and hunt for another entrance.' He looked across the shaft at Kane. 'This is your big chance.'
The exec looked indifferent. 'If you wish. Suits me. If I'm feeling generous, I'll even tell you about the diamonds.'
'What diamonds?'
'The ones I'm going to find spilling out of old alien crates down there.' He gestured at the blackness.
Lambert helped him secure the chest climbing unit, made certain the harness was firmly affixed to his shoulders and back. He touched the check stud, was rewarded by a faint beep over his helmet speaker. A green light winked on, then off, on the front of the unit.
'We've got power over here. I'm all set.' He eyed Dallas. 'You ready yet?'
'Another minute.' The captain had assembled a metal tripod from short lengths of metal. The resulting construct looked flimsy, too thin to support a man's weight. In actuality it could hold the three of them without so
