At the top of the mold Ripley secured herself on the edge and reached down to help Dillon. The pursuing alien’s 212

Alan Dean Foster

inner jaws shot out, reaching. Dillon kicked down, slashing with the fire axe.

Ripley continued her ascent as Dillon fought off the pursuit. More noise drew her attention to the now functioning gantry crane. She could see Morse inside, cursing and hammering at the controls.

The Company squad appeared on the crest of the observation platform, their leader taking in all of what was happening below at a glance. Morse saw them shouting at him, ignored them as he frantically worked controls.

The container of now molten alloy bubbled as it was tipped.

?Don’t do it!?the captain of the new arrivals shouted. ‘No!?

The alien was very close now, but not quite close enough. Not quite. White-hot liquid metal poured past Ripley and Dillon, a torrent of intense heat that forced both of them to cover their faces with their hands. The metallic cascade struck the alien and knocked it screeching back into the mold, sweeping it away as flames leaped in all directions.

High above, Morse stood and stared down through the window of the crane, his expression a mask of satisfaction.

?Eat shit, you miserable fucker!?

Dillon joined Ripley on the edge of the mold, both of them staring downward as they shielded their faces against the heat rising from the pool of bubbling metal. Suddenly her attention was drawn by movement across the way.

?They’re here!?She clutched desperately at her companion. ?Keep your promise!?

Dillon stared at her. ?You mean it.?

?Yes! I’ve got it inside me! Quit fucking around!?

Uncertainly, he put his hands around her throat.

She stared at him angrily. ?Do it!? 213 213

His fingers tightened. A little pressure, a twist, and her neck would snap. That was all it would take. A moment of effort, of exertion. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how, as if he hadn’t done it before, a long time ago.

?I can’t!?The denial emerged from his throat half cry, half croak. ?I can’t do it!?He looked at her almost pleadingly.

His expression turned to one of horror as he turned around, only to confront the burning and smoking alien. Resigned, he allowed himself to be pulled into its embrace, the two of them vanishing beneath the roiling surface of the molten metal. Ripley looked on in astonishment, at once repelled and fascinated. An instant later the curving alien skull reappeared. Dripping molten metal, it began to haul itself out of the mold.

Looking around wildly, she spotted the emergency chain. It was old and corroded, as might be the controls it activated. Not that it mattered. There was nothing else. She wrenched on it.