The alien watched. They were moving slowly, with nowhere to retreat to. There was still life in the damaged figure on the floor. The alien jumped forward to finish the job.

Spinning, Ripley made a slashing gesture in Eric’s direction. Eric erupted from his hiding place and slammed his hand down on the control.

The piston shot forward, sweeping up both Kevin’s body and that of the alien, shunting them toward the gap which led to the furnace. Heat and howling air filled the corridor.

But the alien had vanished.

Sweating, Ripley took a step forward. ?Where the hell’s it gone??

?Shit!?Dillon tried to peer around the machinery. ?It must be behind the fucking piston.?

?Behind it??She gaped at him.

?Seal the doors,?he bellowed. ?We gotta get it back!?They exchanged a glance, then took off in opposite directions.

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?Jude, Morse!?Dillon pounded down the corridor he’d chosen, searching for survivors. Meanwhile Ripley went in search of Eric and William. Found them, too, all mixed up together and no longer worrying. About anything. She continued on.

Morse was creeping now, no longer running. Hearing a noise, he paused to check the side access way from which it had come, exhaled at the sight of nothing. He began retracing his steps, keeping his eyes forward.

Until he dumped into something soft and animate.

?What the-!?

It was Jude. Equally startled, the other man whirled, displaying the scissors he carried like a weapon. Simultaneously relieved and furious, Morse grabbed the twin blades and angled them upward.

?Not like this. Like this, moron.?He whacked the other man on the side of the head. Jude blinked, nodded, and started off in the other direction.

Dillon was back in the main corridor, yelling. ?Jude, Jude!?The other man heard him, hesitated.

The alien was right behind him.

He ran like hell, toward Dillon, who urged him on.

?Don’t look back. As fast you fucking can!?

Jude came on, trying, trying for his life. But he wasn’t Kevin, or Gregor. The alien caught him. Blood exploded against the door that Dillon desperately sent slamming shut.

In the next corridor Ripley heard, growled to herself. Time was ticking away as the piston continued its inexorable and currently useless slide forward.

Gregor screamed for help, but there was no one around to hear him. He raced blindly down the passageway, ricocheting off the corners like a pinball until he slammed into Morse, running hard the other way. Nervous, then half 208

Alan Dean Foster

laughing, they picked themselves up, staring in relief at one another.

Until the alien flashed past and smashed into Gregor in midlaugh, tearing him apart.

Blood and pulp showering his face and torso, Morse fought to scramble away, screaming for mercy to something that neither understood nor cared about his desperation. He could only stare as the creature methodically eviscerated Gregor’s corpse. Then he crawled frantically.