And Then on to Sleep
Deep space towing vehicles are allowed one domesticated animal/mascot for crew morale purposes. Such animal may never leave its ship and cannot be allowed on extra-terrestrial surfaces. Said animal shall be considered an equipment/ward of its vehicle; Its care and maintenance shall be considered a similar responsibility/duty. - Section 717 Weyland-Yutani Fleet Regulations
In compliance with international law the company and its members shall at no time introduce covert mechanoid surveillance (Robot, android, simulated human, etc) amongst it's workers, members, or crews without prior knowledge and consent of all parties involved. – Weyland-Yutani Statement of Business Practices, Paragraph 119.
The Nostromo hung in space. White streaks of light bent themselves around her. She rippled the space/time stream briefly, but did not disturb the whole order. The Nostromo was a wandering traveler that did not want to be a part of their continuum. The towing vehicle adjusted the physics and squeezed though…like a special bit of cosmic quanta. There was nothing the stars could do but let the tug and refinery push on through…on its way home.
In the galley, the crew ate a last meal before hyper-sleep.
Parker had begun to dig ravenously into an assortment of what passed for Chinese food as he joked with Brett on his left. To the right, Lambert ate discriminatorily as she slumped relaxed on the curved bench. She smoked and commented to Kane about Parker's eating habits and Brett's drinking habits.
Jones had a while ago wandered unwanted from the Narcissus and was trying to poke his head up onto the table in hopes of food, but Lambert kept shooing him down so he sat on seat just like everyone else…except he did not have permission to eat.
In between sparing bites of food and sips of beer, Brett displayed his singular talent for music by casually playing and singing folk songs on a harmonica. A guitar sat on the other side of his seat.
Ashe came in and tried to sit down but as he approached Jones went crazy. The yellow tabby arched his back, hissed and batted a paw at Ashe. The cat did not like him.
"Sweet Jesus, Ashe," Lambert noted wryly. "What did you do to that poor cat?"
"Nothing," Ashe replied rapidly. He stood back until Jones calmed down.
"Well…I don't know," Kane said cryptically. "Our normal science officer got on well with Mr. Jones. He doesn't seem to like you."
"Good judge of character," Parker quipped as he scooped some chop suey onto his plate.
Brett stepped-up the tempo of the slow song he had been playing on the harmonica. He paused his playing but tapped his feet to keep the rhythm. He sang:
"Everytime you come on down
Ya betta not kick my kitty a-roun'
It really don't matter that he ain't no hound
You betta not kick my kitty around.
Give us a mewwwww…"
When no one one chimed in with a meow, Brett tried again.
"I said, 'Give us a mewww…'" He then kicked Kane under the table, who realizing that he was intended to participate, howled out a terrible meowing sound that approximated a wounded feline. Lambert and Parker laughed at this.
"You good cat youuuuu…" Brett concluded the song.
"I never kicked this animal," Ashe said truthfully.
Just then Ripley and Dallas, fresh from showering, entered the galley. Jones got up and then alternately wrapped himself around Ripley then Dallas. The captain nearly stumbled.
"Ripley," Dallas said with grumble as he guided the cat towards Ripley with a shove of his foot. "Feed Jones, will ya?"
"He's your cat," Ripley said while scooping up the hapless feline and setting him next to her on the bench.
Everybody ate…including Jones.
"Mother's latest interface with the refinery that we have a rich load minerals getting processed out," Dallas announced. He raised his beer can to the crew "Looks like we will get a bit more bonus off of that. Cheers."
Everyone gave their own versions of gratified gestures.
"MMMmmm," Parker cleared his throat having barely swallowed a gulp of food. "Ya know, it's not too late for you guys to vote Brett and me an equal share of the bonus loot."
"Right," Brett chimed in.
"We can't do that," Ripley said before anyone else could chime in.
"Sure you can," Parker argued.
"Section 13…" Ripley began as Parker groaned. "of fleet regs. 'Early transit bonuses and high enrichment bonuses are to be divided PER department.' If you ship out with an assistant engineer to do all the jobs you don't want to do…then you can just split Engineering's share of the bonuses…WITH HIM."
"See Ripley?" Parker said pointing a fork in her direction. "That's why I think you are a corporate robot."
"Hear hear!" Lambert laughed. She sat up enthusiastically now and took a quick sip of Parker's beer that the engineer did not notice. "Ripley the robot."
"Ripley the robot," Ashe repeated softly while trying to seem only peripherally interested.
"You're too perfect…" Parker continued to list her faults. "You have all the regulations down pat.
You ain't got no heart, baby. No heart."
"Can you believe this shit?" Ripley said, looking over at Dallas.
"Following the rules makes her an android?" Dallas gave Parker an amused laugh.
"Well…how do we know they didn't sneak a corporate robot in on us. Companies have been caught doing that before, ya know." Parker now grasped to make the unlikely sound reasonable. "I mean, like, what happened to the Warrant we were supposed to have? Didn't she come on at the last second?"
"And?" chuckled Dallas. "So she's a last minute replacement. It happens all the time. They replaced our normal science officer too. Ashe is a robot too? Your losing your mind out here, Parker. Pass me some of that. What is that supposed to be? Chop suey?"
"So does she pass to the next level, skipper?"
"Well…that's up to her to divulge," Dallas evaded. "But I think she did pretty well…don't you?"
"Oh yeah. She's got the whole book memorized."
"There's more than that," Ripley protested.
"What?"
"Leadership, crew coordination, ethics, ship operations, cargo responsiblilities, emergency scenarios…"
"She passed all that?" Brett asked and winked at Parker
"Flying colors," Dallas confirmed.
"What's an emergency scenario?" Lambert asked.
"What to do if the hyper-drive is running out of control and the ship is about to collide with an inhabited system."
Lambert had to think about this for a sec.
"So what's the answer?"
"Take the coolant system off line and gave the shuttle going in 5 minutes..." Ripley made an exploding gesture with her fingers and hand. "Right Engineering?"
"You should have 10 minutes before she blows completely," Parker decided to field this rhetorical question. "But you have until 5 minutes to change your mind. After that the engine will be hypercritical and the chain reaction to destruction will be unstoppable. So you have something like 5 minutes from there."
"What if someone is left onboard?"
"That's an ethics question," Ripley informed.
"Sort of like…" Ashe interjected, "If you can only save one of your crewmates whose life do you save…whose life do you risk?"
"If you gotta get out," Parker noted. "You gotta get out. Those are every man for himself scenarios."
"No, Parker," Ripley tssked. "Like if we crashed in the water back on Earth and we are in shark infested waters. There's a shark between a crew member let's say, Lambert, and a lifeboat. And she's struggling can barely keep her head up in the water. And she can't think straight because that shark fin is coming straight at her. Do you risk yourself to get to get that crewman away from the shark?"
"I don't know," Parker looked thoughtfully. "If I have a way to be safer in the lifeboat myself first? I am headed for it."
"Yeah…but wouldn't that leave your crewmate, ME, defenseless to a shark?" Lambert prodded. "What would you do then? You wouldn't try to rescue?
"If you ain't got sense to get away from a shark, baby…I'm outta there."
Lambert hurled a packet of synthetic cornbread at his head.
"Pig!"
They laughed. They continued to eat. They chatted a little about what they would do with their monies once they got home, but despite the somberness of the prospect of heading into the death like stasis of hyper-sleep they were all ready to go to bed. After 67 continual working days together they had had enough. There was nothing new that anyone could say over a meal…there was no conversation that had not already been broached. Close to a year already out in space. Now, close to nine months to go back. Enough time to have a baby.
Two years is a long time to spend away from your homeworld.
The hyper-sleep chambers were arranged like the petals of the flower or the rays of a sun. Each person slept with his head toward the middle.
Ripley hugged her robe around herself and shuffled across the chamber floor on slippered feet.
She went around the individual hypersleep chambers. Parker's lid was just closing, but she could tell he was already asleep because of his snoring. Brett's and Ashe's chambers were closed but they were just sleeping still. They weren't under deep enough yet to start the freezing stasis yet. Lambert's chamber interior glowed an eerie green; she was in hypersleep.
"You ready for beddy-bye, Ripley?" Kane asked as he came in behind her from the door way.
Ripley had come to Dallas' bed. He was asleep but his glass lid had not closed yet. With him down that left Kane essentially in command.
"Yes, I am," Ripley said. "Dallas?"
No response. Ripley tapped a few buttons and the glass came down slowly over him.
"Good night," she said to him.
She unabashedly removed her robe and gently folded it and placed on the floor next to her bed. She placed two wireless diagnostic electrodes on her chest and one at the rear edge of her skull. A read-out next to her chamber immediately began to register her as 'Alive Conscious Animated'.
"Do you want me to close you up or do you want mother to do it?" Kane offered.
"I'll let mother do it."
Ripley unlike some people had no fear of going into hyper-sleep. She didn't have fears about malfunctions, or not waking up, or being frozen to death…or any of those paranoid worries.
"Okay," Kane replied. "Good night, Ripley. See you in 3/4ths of a year."
She saw him climb into bed. She climbed into her chamber and took luxuriated in the soft glow of the off-white room.
"Yeah…see ya." Whichever of them fell to sleep last would technically be in command all alone until they themselves fell asleep.
She pushed a button on an internal side panel…and her glass lid slowly came down.
"Put me in stasis when I fall asleep, mother."
"Confirmed," the neutral voice of The Nostromo's central computer responded. "Hyper-sleep cryonosis proceeding after theta-wave sleep acquired."
Ripley could feel the tug of drowsiness begin already. It worked like a charm for her.
"Goodnight, mother," Ripley said almost unconscious.
"Goodnight, Ripley."
…And Ripley tumbled deeply into sleep, and into those comforting dreams about the cool green hills of mother Earth.
The Nostromo flew-on.
…and her seven children slept deeply-on...safely under the comforting watch of their corporate mother.