'No.' Both went quiet for a few minutes before Lambert spoke up voluntarily.
'I never got the impression,' she said casually, 'he was particularly interested.'
That was the end of it as far as the navigator was concerned. It was almost the end of it as far as Ripley was concerned. She could not have said why she continued to mull over the thought. But it hung maddeningly in her mind, tormenting her, and for her life's blood she couldn't imagine why.
Parker checked the level on the first methane cylinder, made sure the bottle of highly compressed gas was full. He did the same with a second, resting nearby. Then he hefted the two heavy containers and started back up the companionway.
It was as lonely on B deck as it had been below. The sooner he rejoined the others, the better he'd feel. In fact, he wished now he'd let Ash accompany him. He'd been an idiot to run off for the cylinders by himself. Everyone who'd been taken by the alien had been alone. He tried to jog a little faster, despite the awkward weight of the bottles.
He turned a bend in the corridor, stopped, nearly dropping one of the containers. Ahead lay the main airlock. Beyond it, but not far beyond, something had moved. Or had it? It was time for imagining things and he blinked, trying to clear mind and eyes.
He'd almost started ahead again when the shadow movement was repeated. There was a vague suggestion of something tall and heavy. Looking around, he located one of the ubiquitous wall 'coms. Ripley and Lambert should still be on the bridge. He thumbed the switch beneath the grid.
Something indecipherable drifted out from the speaker set in Ripley's console. At first she thought it was only localized static, then decided she recognized a word or two.
'Ripley here.'
'Keep it down!' the engineer whispered urgently into the pickup. Ahead of him, the movement in the corridor had suddenly ceased. If the creature had heard him. .
'I can't hear you' Ripley exchanged a puzzled look with Lambert, who looked blank. But when she spoke into her pickup again, she kept her voice down as requested. 'Repeat. . why the need for quiet?'
'The alien.' Parker whispered it, not daring to raise his voice. 'It's outside the starboard lock. Yes, right now!' Open the door slowly. When I give the word, close it fast and blow the outer hatch.'
'Are you sure. .?'
He interrupted her quickly. 'I tell you, we've got it! Just do as I tell you.' He forced himself to calm down. 'Now open it. Slowly.'
Ripley hesitated, started to say something, then saw Lambert nodding vigorously. If Parker was wrong, they had nothing to lose but a minuscule amount of air. If he knew what he was doing, on the other hand. . She threw a switch.
Below, Parker tried to become part of the corridor wall as a low whinesounded. The inner airlock door moved aside. The creature came out of the shadows and moved toward it. Several lights were flashing inside the lock. One was an especially bright emerald green. The alien regarded it with interest, moved to stand on the threshold of the lock.
Come on, damn you, the engineer thought frantically. Look at the pretty green light! That's right. Wouldn't you like to have the pretty green light all to yourself? Sure you would. Just step inside and take the beautiful greenness. Just a couple of steps inside and it can be yours forever. Just a couple of steps, God, just a couple of steps.
Fascinated by the steadily pulsing indicator, the alien stepped into the lock. It was completely inside. Not by much, but who could tell when it might suddenly grow bored, or suspicious?
'Now,' he husked into the pickup, 'now.'
Ripley prepared to throw the emergency close. Her hand was halfway to the toggle when the Nostromo's emergency Klaxon wailed for attention. She and Lambert froze. Each looked to the other, saw only her own personal shock mirrored in her companion's face. Ripley threw the toggle over.
The alien heard the Klaxon too. Muscles contracted and it sprang backward, clearing the threshold of the lock in a single incredible leap. The hatch door slammed shut just a fraction faster. One appendage was pinned between wall and door.
Liquid boiled out of the crushed member. The alien made a noise, like a moan or bellow made underwater. It wrenched itself backward, leaving the trapped limb pinned between metal. Then it turned and rushed down the corridor, blind with pain, hardly seeing the paralyzed engineer as it lifted and threw him aside before vanishing around the nearest corner. Above the crumpled Parker a green light was flashing and the words INNER HATCH CLOSED showed on a readout.
The metal of the lock continued to bubble and melt as the outer hatch swung open. A puff of frozen air appeared outside the lock as the atmosphere that had been contained within rushed into space.
'Parker?' Ripley spoke anxiously into the pickup, jabbed a switch, adjusted a slide. 'Parker? What's happening down there?' Her attention was caught by a green light winking steadily on her console.
'What's going on?' Lambert leaned out of her seat. 'Did it work?'
'I'm not sure. The inner hatch is scaled and the outer hatch has been popped.'
'That should do it. But what about Parker?'
'I don't know. I can't get a response out of him. If it worked, he should be screaming fit to bust the speakers.' She made a decision. 'I'm going down to see. Take over.' She slipped out of her chair, raced for B corridor.
She nearly fell a couple of times. Once she stumbled into a bulkhead and nearly knocked herself out. Somehow she kept her balance and staggered on. The alien was not uppermost in her mind. It was Parker, another human being. A rare enough commodity on board the Nostromo now.
She raced down the companionway onto B corridor, headed up toward the airlock. It was empty, except for a limp form sprawled across the deck: Parker.
She bent over him. He was groggy and half conscious. 'What happened? You look like hell. Did. .?'
The engineer was trying to form words, had to settle for gesturing feebly toward the airlock. Ripley shut up, looked in the indicated direction, saw the bubbling hole in the lock door. The outer hatch was still open, ostensibly after blowing the alien out into nothingness. She started to rise.
The acid ate completely through.
There was a bang of departing air, and a small hurricane enveloped them. Air screamed as it was sucked into a vacuum. A flashing red sign appeared in several recesses in the corridor walls.
CRITICAL DEPRESSURIZATION.
The Klaxon was sounding again, more hysterically now and with better reason. Emergency doors slammed shut all over the ship, beginning with the breached section. Parker and Ripley should have been safely sealed in a section of corridor. . except that the airtight door separating them from the airlock vestibule had jammed on one of the methane cylinders.
Wind continued to tear at her as she hunted for something, anything, to fight with. There was only the remaining tank. She raised it, used it to hammer at the jammed cylinder. If either one of them cracked, a slight spark from metal banging on metal could set off the contents of both bottles. But if she didn't knock it free, quickly, the complete depressurization would kill them anyway.
Lack of air was already weakening her. Blood frothed at her nose and ears. The fall in pressure made Parker's existing wounds bleed afresh.
She heaved the bottle at the trapped cylinder a last time. It popped free as easily as a clean birth. The door slammed the rest of the way shut behind it, and the howl of disappearing wind vanished. Confused air continued to swirl around them for several minutes more.
On the bridge, Lambert had seen the ominous readouts appear on her console: HULL BREACHED–- EMERGENCY BULKHEADS CLOSED. She hit the 'com.
'Ash, get some oxygen. Meet me at the main lock by the last of the sealed doors.'
'Check. Be right there.'
Ripley staggered to her feet, fighting for every breath in the atmosphere-depleted chamber. She headed for the emergency release set inside every bulkhead door. There was a stud there that would slide the door back, opening onto the next sealed section and fresh air.
At the last instant, as she was about to depress the red button, she saw to her horror that she was fumbling
