Everyone in Operations had clustered around the comtech for a look at the monitor. Hudson froze the colony scan and enlarged one portion. In the centre of the processing station's schematic a cluster of glowing blue dots pulsed like deep-sea crustaceans.
Hicks grunted as he stared at the screen. 'Looks like a town meeting.'
'Wonder why they all went over there?' Dietrich mused aloud. 'I thought we'd decided that this was where they made their last stand?'
'Maybe they were able to make a break for it and secure themselves in a better place.' Gorman turned away, brisk and professional. 'Remember, the processing station still has ful power. That'd be worth a lot. Let's saddle up and find out.'
'Awright, let's go, girls.' Apone was slipping his pack over his shoulders. Operations became a hive of activity. 'They ain't payin' us by the hour.' He glanced at Hudson. 'How do we get over there?'
The comtech adjusted the screen, reducing the magnification. An overview of the colony appeared on the monitor 'There's one small service corridor. It's a pretty good hike Sarge.'
Apone looked to Gorman, waiting for orders. 'I don't know about you, Sergeant,' the lieutenant told him, 'but I'm not fond of long, narrow corridors. And I'd like for everyone to be fresh when we arrive. I'd also like to have the APC's armament backing us up when we go in there.'
'My thoughts exactly, sir.' The sergeant looked relieved He'd been ready to suggest and argue and was glad that neither was going to be necessary. A couple of the troops nodded and looked satisfied. Gorman might be inexperienced in the field, but at least he wasn't a fool.
Hicks yelled back toward the small ready room. 'Hey Ripley, we're going for a ride in the country. You coming?'
'We're both coming.' A few looks of surprise greeted her as she led the girl out of the back room. 'This is Newt. Newt, these are my friends. They're your friends too.'
The girl simply nodded, unwilling to extend that privilege beyond Ripley as yet. A couple of the soldiers nodded to the child as they shouldered their equipment. Burke smiled encouragingly at her. Gorman looked surprised.
Newt looked up at her live friend, still clutching the disembodied doll head tightly in her right hand. 'Where are we going?'
'To a safe place. Soon.'
Newt almost smiled.
The atmosphere in the APC during the ride from colony Operations to the processing station was more subdued than it had been when they'd first roared out of the dropship. The universal devastation; the hollow, wounded buildings; and the unmistakable evidence of hard fighting had put a damper on the Marines' initial high spirits.
It was clear that the cause of the colony's interrupted communications with Earth had nothing to do with its relay satellite or base instrumentation. It had to do with Ripley's critter. The colonists had ceased communicating because something had compelled them to do so. If Ripley was to be believed, that something was still hanging around Undoubtedly the little girl was a storehouse of information on the subject, but no one tried to press questions on her Dietrich's orders. The child's recovery was still too fragile to jeopardize with traumatizing inquiries. So as they rode along in the APC they had to fill in the gaps in Ripley's library disks with their imaginations. Soldiers have active imaginations.
Wierzbowski drove the personnel carrier across the twilight landscape, traversing a causeway that connected the rest of the colony complex to the atmosphere-processing station a kilometre away. Wind tore at the massive vehicle but could not sway it. The APC was designed for comfortable travel in winds up to three hundred kph. A typical Acheronian gale didn't bother it. Behind it, the dropship had settled to ground at the landing field, awaiting the soldiers' return. Ahead, the conical tower of the massive processing unit glowed with a spectra light as it continued with its business of terraforming Acheron's inhospitable atmosphere.
Ripley and Newt sat side by side just aft of the driver's cab Wierzbowski kept his attention on his driving. Within the comparative safety of the heavily armoured vehicle the girl gradually grew more voluble. Though there were at least a dozen questions Ripley badly wanted to ask her, she just sat patiently and listened, letting her charge ramble on Occasionally Newt would offer the answer to an unasked question, anyway. Like now.
'I was best at the game.' She hugged the doll head and stared at the opposite wall. 'I knew the whole maze.'
'The 'maze'?'Ripley thought back to where they'd found her. 'You mean the air-duct system?'
'Yeah, you know,' she replied proudly. 'And not just the air ducts. I could even get into tunnels that were full of wires and stuff. In the walls, under the floor. I could get into anywhere. I was the ace. I could hide better than anybody. They all said I was cheating because I was smaller than everybody else, but it wasn't 'cause I was smaller. I was just smarter, that's all. And I've got a real good memory. I could remember anyplace I'd been before.'
'You're really something, ace.' The girl looked pleased Ripley's gaze shifted forward. Through the windshield the processing station loomed directly ahead.
It was an unbeautiful structure, strictly utilitarian in design Its multitude of pipes and chambers and conduits had been scoured and pitted by decades of wind-blown rock and sand. It was as efficient as it was ugly. Working around the clock for years on end, it and its sister stations scattered around the planet would break down the components of Acheron's atmosphere, scrub them clean, add to them, and eventually produce a pleasant biosphere equipped with a balmy, homelike climate. A great deal of beauty to spring forth from so much ugliness.
The monolithic metal mass towered over the armoured personnel carrier as Wierzbowski braked to a stop across from the main entryway. Led by Hicks and Apone, the waiting troopers deployed in front of the oversize door. Up close to the complex the thrum of heavy machinery filled their ears, rising above the steady whistle of the wind. The well-built machinery continued to do its job even in the absence of its human masters.
Hudson was first to the entrance and ran his fingers over the door controls like a locksmith casing his next crack.
'Surprise, chiluns. Everything works.' He thumbed a single button, and the heavy barrier slid aside to reveal an interior walkway. Off to the right a concrete ramp led downward.
'Which way, sir?' Apone inquired.
'Take the ramp,' Gorman instructed them from inside the APC. 'There'll be another at the bottom. Take it down to C-level.'
'Check.' The sergeant gestured at his troops. 'Drake, take point. The rest of you follow by twos. Let's go.'
Hudson hesitated at the control panel. 'What about the door?'
'There's nobody here. Leave it open.'
They started down the broad ramp into the guts of the station. Light filtered down from above, slanting through floors and catwalks fashioned of steel mesh, bending around conduits ranked side by side like organ pipes. They had their suit lights switched on, anyway. Machinery pounded steadily around them as they descended.
The multiple views provided by their suit cameras bounced and swayed as they walked, making viewing difficult for those watching the monitors inside the APC. Eventually the floor levelled out and the images steadied. Multiple lenses revealed a floor overflowing with heavy cylinders and conduits, stacks of plastic crates, and tall metal bottles.
'B-level.' Gorman addressed the operations bay pickup 'They're on the next one down. Try to take it a little slower. It's hard to make anything out when you're moving fast on a downslope.'
Dietrich turned to Frost. 'Maybe he wants us to fly? That way the picture wouldn't bounce.'
'How about if I carry you instead?' Hudson called back to her.
'How about if I throw you over the railing?' she responded 'Picture would be steady that way, too, until you hit bottom.'
'Shut up back there,' Apone growled as they swung around a turn in the descending rampway. Hudson and the rest obliged.
In the Operations bay Ripley peered over Gorman's right shoulder, and Burke around the other, while Newt tried to squeeze in from behind. Despite all the video wizardry the lieutenant could command, none of the
