He bumped into something unyielding and his head whipped around. Feet. His head tilted back. Ripley’s feet.

She threw the flare she was holding at the alien as it tried to duck into an air vent. The burning magnesium alloy forced it to drop Gregor’s ravaged body.

?Come on, you bastard!?

As Morse looked on in fascination, the alien, instead of rushing forward to decapitate the lieutenant, coiled up against the far wall. She advanced, ignoring its cringing and spitting.

?Come on. I got what you want. Follow me. I want to show you something. Come on, damn you!?

The alien’s tail flicked out and lashed at her. Not hard enough to kill; just enough to fend her off.

At that moment Dillon arrived in the doorway, staring. She whirled on him. ?Get back! Don’t get in the way!?

The alien resumed its attack posture, turning to face the newcomer. Desperately Ripley inserted herself between it and Dillon, who suddenly realized not only what was happening but what she was trying to do.

Moving up behind, he grabbed her and held her tight.

The alien went berserk, but kept its distance as the two humans retreated, Ripley tight in Dillon’s grasp.

It followed them into the main corridor, keeping the

209 209

distance between them constant, waiting. Dillon glanced toward the waiting mold, called out.

?In here, stupid!?

The alien hesitated, then leapt to the ceiling and scuttled over the doorjamb.

?Shut it!?Ripley said frantically. ?Now!?

Dillon didn’t need to be told. He activated the door in front of her. It slammed tight, imprisoned them both in the main corridor with the creature.

Morse appeared behind it, saw what was happening. ?Get out! Get the fuck out now!?

Ripley yelled back at him. ?Close the door!?The other man hesitated. As he did so, the alien turned toward him. ?Now!?

Morse jerked forward and hit the switch. The door rammed down, sealing them off from his position. A moment later the piston appeared, continuing on its cleansing passage and obscuring them from view.

He turned and ran back the way he’d come.

Within the main corridor the piston crunched into the alien, knocking it backward. Forgetting now about the two humans, it turned and sought to squeeze a leg past the heavy barrier. There was no room, no space at all. The piston continued to force it toward the mold.

Dillon and Ripley were already there. End of the line. Nowhere else to go.

Morse scrambled up the ladder which lead to the crane cab, wondering if he remembered enough to activate it. He’d have to. There was no time to consult manuals, and no one left to ask.

The massive landing craft disdained the use of the mine’s ill-maintained landing port. Instead it set down on 210

Alan Dean Foster