when all the adults had succumbed. As Ripley struggled with the import of what she was seeing, the girl continued to edge around the back wall. She was heading for another hatch. If the conduit it barred was no bigger in diametre than the cover protecting it the girl would be out of their grasp. Ripley saw that she could never enter it.
The child turned and dove, and Ripley timed her own lunge to coincide. She managed to get both arms around the girl locking her in a bear hug. Finding herself trapped, the girl went into a frenzy, kicking and hitting and trying to use her teeth. It was not only frightening, it was horrifying: because, as she fought, the child stayed dead silent. The only noise in the confined space as she struggled in Ripley's grasp was her frantic breathing, and even that was eerily subdued. Only once in her life had Ripley had to try to control someone small who'd fought with similar ferocity, and that was Jones, when she'd had to take him to the vet.
She talked to the child as she kept clear of slashing feet and elbows and small sharp teeth. 'It's okay, it's okay. It's over you're going to be all right now. It's okay, you're safe.'
Finally the girl ran out of strength, slowing down like a failing motor. She went completely limp in Ripley's arms almost catatonic, and allowed herself to be rocked back and forth. It was hard to look at the child's face, to meet her traumatized, vacant stare. Lips white and trembling, eyes darting wildly and seeing nothing, she tried to bury herself in the adult's chest, shrinking back from a dark nightmare world only she could see.
Ripley kept rocking the girl back and forth, back and forth cooing to her in a steady, reassuring voice. As she whispered she let her gaze roam the chamber until it fell on something lying on the top of the pile of scavenged goods. It was a framed solido of the girl, unmistakable and yet so different. The child in the picture was dressed up and smiling, her hair neat and recently shampooed, a bright ribbon shining in the blond tresses. Her clothing was immaculate and her skin scrubbed pink. The words beneath the picture were embossed in gold:
FIRST-GRADE CITIZENSHIP AWARD REBECCA JORDEN
'Ripley. Ripley?' Hicks voice, echoing down the air shaft 'You okay in there?'
'Yes.' Aware they might not have heard her, she raised her voice. 'I'm okay. We're both okay. We're coming out now.'
The girl did not resist as Ripley retraced her crawl feet first dragging the child by the ankles.
VII
The girl sat huddled against the back of the chair, hugging her knees to her chest. She looked neither right nor left, nor at any of the adults regarding her curiously. Her attention was focused on a distant point in space. A biomonitor cuff had been strapped to her left arm. Dietrich had been forced to modify it so that it would fit properly around the child's shrunken arm.
Gorman sat nearby while the medtech studied the information the cuff was providing. 'What's her name again?'
Dietrich made a notation on an electronic caduceus pad 'What?'
'Her name. We got a name, didn't we?'
The medtech nodded absently, absorbed by the readouts 'Rebecca, I think.'
'Right.' The lieutenant put on his best smile and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. 'Now think, Rebecca Concentrate. You have to try to help us so that we can help you. That's what we're here for, to help you. I want you to take your time and tell us what you remember. Anything at all. Try to start from the beginning.'
The girl didn't move, nor did her expression change. She was unresponsive but not comatose, silent but not mute. A disappointed Gorman sat back and glanced briefly to his left as Ripley entered carrying a steaming coffee mug.
'Where are your parents? You have to try to—'
'Gorman! Give it a rest, would you?'
The lieutenant started to respond sharply. His reply faded to a resigned nod. He rose, shaking his head. 'Total brainlock Tried everything I could think of except yelling at her, and I'm not about to do that. It could send her over the edge. If she isn't already.'
'She isn't.' Dietrich turned off her portable diagnostic equipment and gently removed the sensor cuff from the girl's unresisting arm. 'Physically she's okay. Borderline malnutrition, but I don't think there's any permanent damage. The wonder of it is that she's alive at all, scrounging unprocessed food packets and freeze-dried powder.' She looked at Ripley 'You see any vitamin packs in there?'
'I didn't have time for sight-seeing, and she didn't offer to show me around.' She nodded toward the girl.
'Right. Well, she must know about supplements because she's not showing any signs of critical deficiencies. Smart little thing.'
'How is she mentally?' Ripley sipped at her coffee, staring at the waif in the chair. The child's skin was like parchment over the backs of her hands.
'I can't tell for sure, but her motor responses are good. I think it's too early to call it brainlock. I'd say she's on hold.'
'Call it anything you want.' Gorman rose and headed for the exit. 'Whatever it is, we're wasting our time trying to talk to her.' He strode out of the side room and back into Operations to join Burke and Bishop in staring at the colony's central computer terminal. Dietrich headed off in another direction.
For a while Ripley watched the three men, who were intent on the terminals Hudson had resurrected, then knelt alongside the girl. Gently she brushed the child's unkempt hair back out of her eyes. She might have been combing a statue for all the response she elicited. Still smiling, she proffered the steaming cup she was holding.
'Here, try this. If you're not hungry, you must be thirsty. I'l bet it gets cold in that vent bubble, what with the heat off and everything.' She moved the cup around, letting the air carry the warm, aromatic smell of the contents to the girl's nostrils 'It's just a little instant hot chocolate. Don't you like chocolate? When the girl didn't react, Ripley wrapped the small hands around the cup, bending the fingers toward each other. Then she tilted hands and cup upward.
Dietrich was correct about the child's motor responses. She drank mechanically and without watching what she was doing Cocoa spilled down her chin, but most of it went down the small throat and stayed down. Ripley felt vindicated.
Not wanting to overwhelm an obviously shrunken stomach she pulled the cup away when it was still half full. 'There wasn't that nice? You can have some more in a minute. I don't know what you've been eating and drinking, and we don't want to make you sick by giving you too much rich stuff too quickly. She pushed at the blond tresses again.
'Poor thing. You don't talk much, do you? That's okay by me You feel like keeping quiet, you keep quiet. I'm kind of the same way. I've found that most people do a lot of talking and they wind up not saying very much. Especially adults when they're talking to children. It's kind of like they enjoy talking at you but not to you. They want you to listen to them all the time but they don't want to listen to you. I think that's pretty stupid Just because you're small doesn't mean you don't have some important things to say.' She set the cup aside and dabbed at the brown-stained chin with a cloth. It was easy to feel the ridge of unfinished bone beneath the tightly drawn skin.
'Uh-oh.' She grinned broadly. 'I made a clean spot here Now I've gone and done it. Guess I'll just have to do the whole thing. Otherwise nothing will match.'
From an open supply packet she withdrew a squeeze bottle full of sterilized water and used it to soak the cloth she was holding. Then she applied the makeshift scrubber firmly to the girl's face, wiping away dirt and accumulated grime in addition to the remaining cocoa spots. Throughout the operation the child sat quietly. But the bright blue eyes shifted and seemed to focus on Ripley for the first time.
She felt a surge of excitement and fought to suppress it 'Hard to believe there's a little girl under all this.' She made a show of examining the cloth's surface. 'Enough dirt there to file a mining claim on.' Bending over, she stared appraisingly at the newly revealed face. 'Definitely a little girl. And a pretty one, at that.'
She looked away just long enough to assure herself that no one from Operations was about to barge in. Any
