[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
down. Her attackers vanished in the homicidal hail of fire.
It didn't matter if it moved or not. She blasted everything that didn't
look wholly mechanical as she ran for the elevator, setting fire to
equipment and destroying controls and instrumentation together with
attacking aliens. Sweat and steam half blinded her, but the flares she'd
dropped to mark her path shone brightly, jewels set among the
devastation. Sirens
236
ALAN DEAN FOSTER
howled around her, and the station rocked with internal convulsions.
Page 166
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
She almost ran past one flare, skidded to a halt, and turned toward it.
She staggered on as if in a dream, her lungs straining no longer. Her
body was so pumped up, she felt as though she were flying across the
metal floor.
Behind her, the queen detached from the ruined egg sac, ripping it away
from her abdomen. Rising on legs the size of temple pillars, she
lumbered forward, crushing machinery, cocoons, drones, and anything else
in her path.
Ripley used the flamethrower to sterilize the corridor ahead, letting
loose incinerating blasts at regular intervals, firing down side
corridors before she crossed them to keep from being surprised. By the
time she and Newt reached the freight elevator, the weapon's tank was empty.
The elevator she'd used for the descent had been demolished by falling
debris. She hit the call button on its companion and was rewarded by the
whine of a healthy motor as the second metal cage commenced its slow
fall from the upper levels. An enraged shriek made her turn. A distant,
glistening shape like a runaway crane was trying to batter its way
through intervening pipes and conduits to reach them. The queen's skull
scraped the ceiling.
She checked the pulse-rifle. The magazine was empty, and she was out of
refills, having spent shells profligately while rescuing Newt. No more
grenades, either. She tossed the useless dual weapon aside, glad to be
rid of the weight.
The cage's descent was too slow. There was a service ladder set inside
the wall next to the twin elevator shafts, and she scrambled up the
first rungs. Newt was as light as a feather on her back.
As she dove into the stairwell a powerful black arm shot through the
doorway like a piston. Razor-sharp talons slammed into the floor
centimeters from her legs, digging into the metal.
Which way now? She was no longer fearful, had no time
mmmm
m
237
237
to panic. Too many other things to concentrate on. She was too busy to
be terrified.
There: an open stairwell leading to the station's upper levels. It
rocked and shuddered as the huge installation began tearing itself to
bits beneath her. Behind her, the floor buckled as something incredibly
powerful threw itself insanely against the rrietal wall. Talons and jaws
pierced the thick alloy plates.
?You now have two minutes to reach minimum safe distance,?the sad voice
of the station informed any who might be listening.
Ripley fell, banging one knee against the metal stairs. Pain forced her
to pause. As she caught her breath the sound of the elevator motors
Page 167
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
starting up made her look back down through the open latticework of the
building. The elevator cage had begun to ascend. She could hear the
overloaded cables groaning in the open shaft.
She resumed her heavenward flight, the stairwell becoming a mad blur
around her. There was only one reason why the elevator would resume its
ascent.
At last they reached the doorway that led out onto the upper-level
landing platform. With Newt still somehow clinging to her, Ripley
slammed the door open and stumbled out into the wind and smoke.
The dropship was gone.
?Bishop!?The wind carried her scream away as she scanned the sky.
?Bishop!?Newt sobbed against her back.
A whine made her turn as the straining elevator slowly rose into view.
She backed away from the door until she was leaning against the narrow
railing that encircled the landing platform. It was ten levels to the
hard ground below. The skin of the heaving processing station was as
smooth as glass. They couldn't go up and they couldn't go down. They
couldn't even dive into an air duct.
The platform shook as an explosion ripped through the bowels of the
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]