That was when the screen turned red and the bottom of the readout flashed a message Vriess really didn't want to see. He rapidly tried some overrides, but the message never changed.
"Call," Vriess said quietly, but the concern in his voice was plain. "I can't get the damned doors to close."
"You what?" Johner snapped from the seat behind them. "We can't hit atmo with those doors wide open!"
"Ripley nearly got them closed by using the manual override," Vriess told them, still reading the bad news on his screen, "but they stopped again halfway down. I can't get them to budge."
"Let me try," Call said quickly, plugging her connection back into the ship. Muttering, she begged the ship, "Talk to me, Betty."
In the docking bay, the ship's exhaust caused steam to condense throughout the tube. Some of the steam had followed Ripley into the cargo hold, creeping around the equipment and cargo like the lowlying mist that shrouded graveyards. As the docking bay prepared to allow the Betty to depart, the air currents suddenly changed, and blew the steam away into a different pattern. The clinging strands of gray water vapor that trailed around the cargo bay airlock doors were whisked away in a sudden gust.
All that was left behind was a solitary figure.
As the Newborn pulled itself through the narrow space between the doors that had once stood between itself and the ship, it saw the magnets disengaging. And it saw the Ripley standing inside the ship. Determined to wreak its revenge on the being who betrayed it, betrayed the Queen, betrayed the entire hive, the Newborn growled a vow of vengeance. Waiting until the condensing steam once more enveloped it in camouflaging grayness, the Newborn crept on all fours toward the ship.
The gray death's head of the Newborn grinned as the creature stealthily approached its newest home. It didn't know what this place was, only that its mother— who was trying so hard to abandon her orphan child— had led it here.
The other four people already on board the Betty turned as their newest passenger rushed into the cockpit. "Ripley!" Call called, turning in her seat. For some reason, she just needed to see her to be sure she was there.
"Hi," the woman gasped breathlessly.
As she passed Distephano, he grinned at her. "Man, I thought you were dead!"
She nodded distractedly. "I get that a lot."
"Glad you could make it," Distephano told her. "I'd say it was good to see you, but Jesus, woman, you look and smell terrible!"
Ripley leaned over Vriess's shoulder, scanning the monitors. "Why are we still here?" It was obvious from the readouts how little time they had left.
From her seat behind him, Call glanced at Vriess. He was sweating hard, distracted, clearly overwhelmed at the task ahead of him. He stammered, "I'm just ... uh ... trying to find ... the, uh, manual override .... Is that it?" He reached hesitantly for a switch.
Johner leaned forward as if to assist when Ripley shoved the big man out of her way, and slapped Vriess's hand. "Oh, for chrissakes ...!" she muttered disgustedly as she hopped into the second pilot's chair, the one right beside Vriess.
Elgyn's chair, Call remembered with a pang.
Johner looked furious. "What do you know about flying these...?"
Ripley cut him off impatiently. "Are you kidding? This piece of shit's older than I am." Her hands flew over the controls unerringly, hitting buttons, flipping switches. She wasn't even looking at half of them. "Just open the Auriga's goddamn airlock," she ordered Vriess.
He seemed happy to yield control of the ship to Ripley except for the monitor he couldn't stop watching. He nodded toward it. "We've still got breach! Look! The hatch!"
"I shut it," Ripley told him calmly.
Johner leaned over her chair, pointing to Vriess's screen. "The goddamn hatch!"
Her eyes were drawn to a flashing screen that told the same story.
Vriess's hands were once again moving efficiently over the control board. This was a problem he understood. "It's this piece of shit again! We've lost pressure in the hydraulics. How did that happen?"
Johner was leaning over Vriess's shoulder now, reading the panel. He stood and turned toward the cargo bay. "Maybe I can wrestle it closed."
"I tried that already," Ripley told him. His expression told her he knew he could do no better.
Call stood, rapidly disengaging herself from the communication port. At this point, they really didn't need her here. "I got it!" She started to climb from her seat, then stopped for the briefest instant as she realized Ripley was watching her.
The intensity of the older woman's gaze seemed to say, Of course I know who let me in. Ripley's gratitude was clear in her expression. The robot nodded once.
Ripley barely managed a wan smile as she turned her attention to the monitor in front of Vriess.
The readouts on the screen told them the Betty was slowly pulling out of the dock. Call wouldn't have much time to shut the doors before the outer lock opened. But she was the only one who might be able to survive back there once it did. Rapidly, she wove her way past the seats toward the back.
As the cockpit door closed behind her, Call took a second to look over the area. The cargo bay airlock had been sitting open less than a minute, but those things could move incredibly quickly. Could one of them have crept in here while they were all messing with the controls?
The very thought made her feel edgy, made the short hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up.
The hoists and chains hanging overhead swayed and jingled as the ship moved, seeming to echo her nervousness.
Cautiously, she approached the emergency override controls. Grasping the lever, she used all her strength to yank the handle down, hoping this would force the closure of the lock in spite of the faulty hydraulics. The telltales flashed red, then green, and with painstaking slowness the doors began to lower, only to jam once more about a half meter from the floor.
"Call?" Vriess's voice on the intercom startled her so badly she jumped. "Call?"
She started to answer him but before she could, a shadow flickered behind her. She froze instantly, every sense on hyperalert. The shadow moved, flickered again. Sensing a presence, Call turned slowly, ready to face whatever might be there.
"Call?" Vriess called over the intercom. "Call?"
Ripley handled the ship ably as it passed through the first set of docking bays as it descended toward the Auriga's massive airlock. But even as she controlled the Betty, her attention was inexorably drawn to the monitor that indicated the cargo bay airlock was still open.
There's nothing there, Call thought irritably, wondering if the damage to her body from Wren's gunshot was affecting her sensory reactions. She peered around the vacant cargo bay and decided it was only the constant jostling of the hoists and chains that lent a sense of activity to the quiet area.
Need a lever, she told herself, forcing herself to focus on getting the lock sealed. Looking around the dimly lit bay, she saw, for the first time, all the complicated shadows cast by the various shapes of equipment and cargo. Suddenly, they all looked like hiding places.
Get the lever! she ordered herself sternly, annoyed at her imagined terrors when the real one they were facing was scary enough. Spying a long iron bar, she reached for it, picked it up, hefting its weight and strength. This'll do nicely.
There was a sudden creak of equipment as the ship shifted slightly and the sound made her jerk to attention and look around the bay. The chains jangled together harshly, jostling each other in the dimness.
Get on the door! she reminded herself, turning her back on the cargo bay. Slipping the iron bar into the manual override grip, she leaned on the end of the bar to force the jammed handle all the way down.
A sudden sense of Otherness was suddenly so strong, Call could no longer deny it, not even for the airlock. There was a sound like a hissing breath, the sense of heat as if from expelled air, the feeling of something near, something dangerous—
Tensing, she turned, every sense wired, the mechanism she used for a heart acc
elerating wildly.
This time, it was there, really there, right behind her, and it was huge. And hideous. From the darkest shadows rose the most nightmarish vision Call had ever seen—and she was no stranger to nightmares. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't your garden-variety Alien. This looked like a horrific cross between the typical beast and the Angel of Death. Its skull-like face leered at her, its parody of human teeth grinning. It was bigger than the other Aliens, and the slight hint of humanity about made it seem that much more grotesque.
She had never seen anything like it, not in the history books, and not on the Auriga. It was related to the original Aliens, yes, she could recognize that, even in her terror. But the difference—Could this be Wren's last gift...?
The human traits of the creature are unmistakable. Oh God. . . Ripley's genes...!
She had to get out of here. Had to get away from it.
And then it moved toward her, reaching, reaching with arms impossibly long.
She felt as if she'd grown roots into the deck. She couldn't move. She couldn't think. Everything was on overload in her brain as she stared at the terrifying thing reaching for her.
But its hand moved right past her, grasping, instead, one of the crossbeams on the jammed airlock door. Then, to Call's dazed surprise, the creature helpfully shoved the door to the floor, sealing it shut.
"She's got the doors, man," Johner told Ripley, as the warning message on the monitor turned green and changed to an all clear. He slid into the chair Call had vacated and switched the monitor there to an outer view of the Betty. "And we've got no time left. Open the docking bay doors before we kiss the ground. "
Ripley was aware of him only peripherally as she manipulated the ship's controls, taking over, she imagined, for the things Call might've done much more easily through her port.
"Go full thrust on the downdraft!" Vriess called to her. "We can still get clear." He glanced at Ripley. "But it's gonna be close. And it's gonna be a bumpy ride."
She nodded, surprisingly reluctant to turn her attention away from the monitor. But Call had the doors secure. She was all right. There were more important things for Ripley to do. She worked the controls and, at the same time, managed to strap herself in securely. She could hear Distephano and Johner doing the same. So familiar, she thought tiredly, handling the heavy harness that encircled her waist and shoulders.... Just like the controls of the ship. All so strangely familiar.
The computer voice of the Auriga, sounding just like Call, suddenly announced through the Betty's intercom, "Warning. Procedural interruption. Ship not leveling for vertical drop. Braking system disengaged. Collision imminent."
"No shit," groused Johner from behind her. Distephano was silent.
Ripley sat back in the chair and relaxed, as if this were some kind of pleasure cruise.
"Almost there...." Vriess said quietly.
Everything jelled. All at once. The Auriga's descent rate. The speed of the Betty's ejection. Everything worked.
"Now!" Ripley called, and hit the switch for maximum power. The Betty jerked hard and everyone braced.
Vriess wasn't worried about Call right now; he had much bigger issues on his mind. Some of Betty's systems weren't up to par, since he'd never been able to make the repairs he'd scheduled. To get truly free of the Auriga, the ship would have to respond quickly, have to use real power. He had his doubts as to whether she was up for it. Especially without Hillard at the helm. ... He glanced over at Ripley, trying to figure out how she came to be there, how she knew so much about the Betty's controls, her foibles, her abilities....
Ripley suddenly yelled out, "NOW!" and hit the controls.
And Vriess watched the monitor, which showed—
—The exterior of the massive Auriga, its myriad lights winking against the darkness of Australia's night sky, as the ship raced recklessly toward earth. Suddenly, the Betty, looking like a toy next to the huge frame of the military vessel, shot out of the airlock, nearly smashing into the bottom of the bigger ship as it ejected. Vriess thought it looked like nothing more than a tiny piece of trash hurled out of a speeding plane.
"Look out!" Johner warned.
"I am!" Ripley assured him, as she maneuvered the little ship in a tight arc away from the behemoth threatening to crush them.
The Betty swerved, zigging and zagging to avoid the bulk of the big ship, until she was finally clear. She leveled out and sped away, as the Auriga continued plunging to her death. Vriess checked again, just because he knew Call would care. But this part of the Outback was all open space, no cities, no people, just dark, desolate land for miles. The crater the Auriga would leave would be the most interesting part of the landscape for years to come.
Vriess and Ripley fought together to control the speeding Betty, pushing the ship and all her aging parts as hard as they could to save them.
Call hadn't been this afraid when she'd fled the robot purge. She couldn't think, couldn't process, merely react.
The monster was between her and the cockpit door. But that hardly mattered, the only thing that mattered now was escape. Anywhere. Anyhow. Escape.
The Newborn took one step toward her but as it did, the ship jerked hard suddenly, and they were both knocked off balance. It was just the slap of awareness Call needed. Suddenly, she was motivated.
Dodging the creature's outstretched arm, Call ran as fast as she could move. The thing was right behind her, nearly stepping on her heels, as if toying with her before the kill.
The creature hissed, and she felt its claws brush her leg. Swerving sharply to the right, she lunged at the last second for the crawl space under the stabilizer. As the huge Alien realized its prey was about to evade capture, it bellowed a protest and leaped, but Call had already disappeared beneath the belly of the big machine.
Making herself as small as possible, she rolled over and over until she hit the back wall. Spinning in place, she faced out at the three open sides, searching for her pursuer, fully expecting the creature to be scrambling after her.
But it was gone!
The Alien warrior had followed the Newborn out of the crèche, just to be near the young one. His Queen was dead, and the warrior was adrift. He'd thought that the Newborn would use the Ripley to center them, to give them their purpose, but the Newborn had been unable to hold the Ripley. Why, the warrior didn't understand. Now the Newborn was gone, sworn to kill the Ripley, devour her.
The warrior had followed the young one on its quest because he needed a focus. But the Newborn's focus was not his and he was floundering. The last of the young had emerged from the hosts and were growing. The crèche had been completed. There might be a new Queen in some of the last young who had hatched, but the warrior wasn't sure.
Without a Queen to guide him, he had no focus, no ambition, no purpose. Perhaps it would be best to hibernate now.
The ship they rode on was empty of the prey, having nothing aboard it now but warriors, dead hosts, and young. The corridors were strangely vacant. This was no longer a viable nest. Not without new hosts. But without a Queen to direct them, the warrior feared they might not ever find new hosts.
A voice spoke from inside the ship, and the warrior lifted his head, hearing the voice.
"Collision in six seconds. Five.... Four...."
The Newborn was no longer aboard. Yes, the warrior thought, curling into a tight ball, this would be a good time to hibernate.
The voice of the ship said softly, "Here we go—"
Aboard the Betty, Distephano could see enough of Vriess's monitor to know what was about to happen. He glanced over at Ripley, who seemed completely in tune with a ship she should have no knowledge of. Her mouth was a grim line, as her eyes moved back and forth, missing nothing. Man, you are one strange lady, he thought sympathetically. Still, he admired her ability to handle the vessel and everything else that had happened. As accustomed to space flight as he was, this was one hell of a rough ride, and it wasn't over yet.
Call's voice f
rom the Auriga said softly, "Here we go—" and they all watched the giant ship impact like a meteorite, smashing into the ground, exploding into a massive fireball that lit up the night sky for miles around.
The Betty was safely away, watching from a very discreet distance. Not that the ship herself was safe yet, not by a long shot.
"Wow!" Johner said for all of them, as the gigantic explosion filled the sky. The impact, Distephano knew, would be felt on seismographic instruments all over the planet. Let them try and figure it all out. The thundering firestorm raged on, consuming everything the Auriga was, everything it stood for. Too bad they were all too tired and preoccupied to cheer.
He glanced over at Ripley. Her expression showed many things—relief, satisfaction, sadness, a bone-weary exhaustion coupled with intense concentration.
So Distephano cheered her silently. You got them, lady. Once again, you got them.
He felt pretty good. As soon as they stabilized the ship, they'd get ready to land on Earth. The Auriga was destroyed. They were safe.
Then he realized something.
"I only had three weeks to go," Distephano said wistfully. "Wonder if they'll believe my story, or if they'll can me for telling the truth?"
"Hey, man," Johner called over cheerily. "You're welcome to hang with us. We ain't real organized, but you're a resourceful guy. You'd fit in fine."
He and Johner laughed lightly, way too tired to enjoy the humor.
"Where's Call?" Ripley said anxiously. "She should've been back here by now."
"You're right," Vriess decided. "We sure could use her. We've got questionable readouts in half a dozen areas. If she plugged back in, she could nursemaid the old girl long enough to let us land." He hit the intercom switch, and said impatiently, "Call, where the hell are you?" At the same time he flipped the monitor over from the smoking ruin of the Auriga back to the cargo bay.
With Ripley in the way, Distephano had to lean over to look past the woman's shoulder, but he couldn't see Call in the monitor. Just then, the ship shook furiously again as Ripley wrestled with the controls.
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