Water erupted from the large bore quencher that hung over the lip of the mold. She found herself tangled up in the chain, unable to get loose. The torrent of water drenched her, sweeping her around in tight spirals. But the chain would not let her go.

The cold water struck the alien and its hot metal coat. The head exploded first, then the rest of the body. Then the mold, vomiting chunks of supercooled metal and steam. Morse was thrown to the floor of the crane’s cab as it rocked on its supports, while the commando unit ducked reflexively for cover.

Warm water and rapidly cooling metal rained down on the chamber.

When the deluge ended, the commando team resumed 214

Alan Dean Foster

its approach. But not before Ripley had swung herself up onto the crane platform, Morse reaching out to help her.

Once aboard, she leaned against the guard rail and gazed down into the furnace. Time again to be sick. The attacks of nausea and pain were coming more rapidly now.

She spotted the Company men coming up the stairs from below, heading for the crane. Aaron was in the forefront. She tried to escape but had no place to go.

?Don’t come any closer,?she shouted. ?Stay where you are.?

Aaron halted. ?Wait. They’re here to help.?

She stared at him, pitying the poor simpleton. He had no idea what the stakes were, or what was likely to happen to him when the Company finally obtained what it was after. Except that that was not going to happen.

Another wave of nausea swept over her and she staggered against the railing. As she straightened, a figure stepped out from behind the heavily armed commandos. She gaped, uncertain at first of what she was seeing. It was a face she knew.

?Bishop??she heard herself mumbling uncertainly.

He stopped, the others crowding close behind him, waiting for orders. The figure indicated they should relax. Then he turned to her, smiling reassuringly.

?I just want to help you. We’re all on the same side.?

?No more bullshit!?she snapped. Weak as she was, it took an effort to make the exclamation sound convincing. ?I just felt the damn thing move.?

As everyone present watched, she stepped farther out on the gantry platform. Something smacked into her lungs and she winced, never taking her eyes off the figure before her.

It was Bishop. No, not Bishop, but a perfect duplicate 215 215

of him. A completely in control, perfect down to the pores on his chin double of the sadly dismembered and cybernetically deceased Bishop. Bishop II, she told herself numbly. Bishop Redux. Bishop to pawn four; Bishop takes Queen.

Not as long as this lady’s alive, she thought determinedly.

?You know who I am,?the figure said.

?Yeah. A droid. Same model as Bishop. Sent by the fucking Company.?