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Adjustments were made, commands given and executed by faithful
electronic servants. The Nostromo commenced to follow a steady spiraling
path surfaceward, fighting crosswinds and protesting gusts of black air
every meter of the way.
?Fifteen kilometers and descending,?announced Ripley evenly. ?Twelve ...
ten ... eight.?Dallas touched a control. ?Slowing rate. Five ... three
... two. One kilometer.?The same control was further altered. ?Slowing.
Activate landing engines.?
?Locked.?Kane was working confidently at his console. ?Descent now
computer monitored.?A crisp, loud hum filled the bridge as Mother took
over control of their drop, regulating the last meters of descent with
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more precision than the best human pilot could have managed.
?Descending on landers,?Kane told them.
?Kill engines.?
Dallas performed a final prelanding check, flipped several switches to
OFF. ?Engines off. Lifter
41 quads functioning properly.?A steady throbbing filled the bridge.
?Nine hundred meters and dropping.?Ripley watched her console. ?Eight
hundred. Seven hundred Six.?She continued to count off the rate of
descent in hundreds of meters. Before long she was reciting it in tens.
At five meters the tug hesitated, hovering on its landers above the
storm-wracked, night-shrouded surface.
?Struts down.?Kane was already moving to execute the required action as
Dallas was giving the order. A faint whine filled the bridge. Several
thick metal legs unfolded beetle-like from the ship's belly, drifted
tantalizingly close to the still unseen rock below them.
?Four meters ... ufff!?Ripley stopped. So did the Nostromo, as landing
struts contacted unyielding rock. Massive absorbers cushioned the contact
?We're down.?
Something snapped. A minor circuit, probably, or perhaps an overload not
properly compensated for, not handled fast enough. A terrific shock ran
through the ship. The metal of the hull vibrated, producing an eerie,
metallic moan throughout the ship.
?Lost it, lost it!?Kane was shouting as the lights on the bridge went
out. Gauges screamed for attention as the failure snowballed back
through the interdependent metal nerve ends of the Nostromo.
When the shock struck engineering, Parker and Brett were preparing to
crack another set of beers. A line of ranked pipes set into the molded
ceiling promptly exploded. Three panels in the control cubicle burst
into flame, while a nearby pressure valve swelled, then burst.
42 The lights went out and they fumbled for hand beams while Parker
tried to find the button controlling the backup generator, which
provided power in the absence of direct service from the operating engines.
Controlled confusion reigned on the bridge. When the yells and questions
had died down, it was Lambert who voiced the most common thought.
?Secondary generator should have kicked over by now.?She took a step,
bumped a knee hard against a console.
?Wonder what's keeping it?? Kane moved to the wall, felt along it.
Backup landing controls ... here. He ran his fingers over several
familiar knobs. Aft lock stud ... there. Nearby ought to be ... his hand
fastened on an emergency lightbar, switched it on. A dim glow revealed
several ghostly silhouettes.
With Kane's light serving as a guide, Dallas and Lambert located their
own lightbars. The three beams combined to provide enough illumination
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to work by.
?What happened? Why hasn't the secondary taken over? And what caused the
outage??
Ripley thumbed the intercom. ?Engine room, what happened? What's our
status??
?Lousy.?Parker sounded busy, mad, and worried all at once. A distant
buzzing, like the frantic wings of some colossal insect, formed a
backdrop to his words. Those words rose and faded, as though the speaker
were having trouble staying in range of the omnidirectional intercom pickup.
?Goddamn dust in the engines, that's what happened. Caught it coming
down. Guess we didn't close it off and clean it out in time. Got an
electrical fire back here.?
43 -It's big,?was Brett's single addition to the conversation. He
sounded weak with distance.
There was a pause, during which they could make out only the whoosh of
chemical extinguishers over the speaker. ?The intakes got clogged,?
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