Alien: Out the Shadows

“It’s a risk,” Hoop said, acknowledging the danger. “Everything’s a risk. But the more time we spend fucking around here, the worse things may become. There’s an alien somewhere on board, the Marion’s going to crash, and Ripley’s AI might be keen on giving us a very bad day.”

“Ash isn’t my AI,” Ripley said. “He’s Weyland’s.”

“Whatever. Let’s get the cell out of the Samson and into the corridor. Then we can go about sealing that door.”

“I’ll stand guard,” Sneddon said.

“You okay?” Ripley asked.

Sneddon only nodded, then turned and disappeared back through the door with her spray gun.

“Ripley, you go too,” Hoop said. “Don’t use that plasma torch unless you absolutely have to.”

She nodded and followed Sneddon, wondering exactly what he’d meant. Use it on what? Or on whom? She heard Hoop talking to Lachance and Kasyanov about bringing the fuel cell through, and she was happy leaving them to it. It gave her a chance to talk.

The science officer was just outside the door, leaning against the wall. Ripley nodded to her, then walked a few steps in the opposite direction. There was no sign of anything having been here since they’d left. If the alien had broken back through to this area, it would have depressurized the entire ship.

It was further in, hiding. Perhaps they would never see it again.

“Your AI,” Sneddon said. “It wants what I have?”

Ripley noticed that Sneddon had switched channels so that contact was only between their suits. She did the same before replying.

“Yes. He did his best back on Nostromo to get a sample, and now he’s doing it again.”

“You talk as if it’s a person.”

“He was,” Ripley said. “He was Ash. None of us even knew he was an android. You know how they are, how advanced. He was… odd, I guess. Private. But there was never any cause to suspect his intentions. Not until he let an alien onto the ship.”

“Is he watching us now?”

“I’m not sure.” She didn’t know how far Ash had gone, how far he could infiltrate. But if the aliens were her nightmares, he was her nemesis. “We have to assume so, yes.”

“He won’t want the rest of you,” Sneddon said. “Only me, if he knows what I have inside me.”

“Yes. He’ll want to get you put into hypersleep as quickly as possible, then take you back to the Company. The rest of us are just liabilities.”

“And then?”

Ripley wasn’t sure how to answer, because she didn’t know. Weyland-Yutani had already shown themselves as being brutal and single-minded in their pursuit of any useful alien artefacts or species.

“And then they’ll have what they want,” she said finally.

“I’m not going,” Sneddon said.

“I know.” Ripley couldn’t look at her.

“It’s… strange, knowing I’m going to die. I’m only afraid of how it’ll happen, not death itself.”

“I won’t let it happen like that,” Ripley said. “Kasyanov will give you something, as soon as the time comes. To ease your way.”

“Yeah,” Sneddon said, but she sounded doubtful. “I’m not sure things are going to be quite that easy.”

Ripley wasn’t sure either, and she couldn’t lie. So she simply said nothing.

“It’s only pain,” Sneddon said. “When it happens, it’ll hurt, but it doesn’t matter. A brief moment of pain and horror, and then nothing forever. So it doesn’t really matter.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ripley whispered, blinking away tears. They came far too easily, now that she’d let them in.

At first Sneddon didn’t reply. But Ripley heard her breathing, long and slow, as if relishing every last taste of compressed, contained air. Then the science officer spoke again.

“Strange. I can’t help still being fascinated by them. They’re almost beautiful.”

They stood silently for a while, and Hoop emerged from the doorway that led to the docking arm. He tapped at his ear, and Ripley switched her communicator back to all-channels.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Sneddon and I were talking.” He just nodded.

“We’ve got the cell. Ripley, you go along to the door to Bay Four.” He pointed, then turned. “Sneddon, back there to the corridor blast doors to the other docking bays. I’m going to seal this door, then we’ll repressurize.”

“How?” Ripley asked.

“Honestly? I haven’t figured that yet. If we just open the blast doors, the pressurization will be explosive, and we’ll be smashed around. Got to let air bleed in somehow.”

“Don’t suppose you have another drill?”

Hoop shook his head, then looked down at the spray gun that was hanging from his shoulder. He smiled.

Kasyanov and Lachance appeared with the fuel cell. They wheeled it through the doorway, then set the trolley against the far wall.

“Strap that against the wall, tight,” Hoop said. Then he closed the doors and pulled a small square of thick metal out of a pocket, pressing it against the hole he’d drilled on their exit from the Marion. He removed his hand and the metal remained where it was.

“Bonding agent,” he said when he saw Ripley watching. “Air pressure will press it tight. It’ll give us enough time.”