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’
Up
a
hundred
.
’
Ripley
touched
controls
.
The
thunder
intensified
outside
as
the
tug
lifted
from
the
parched
,
dust
-
blasted
surface
.
The
ship
hovered
a
hundred
metres
above
the
ground
,
dust
racing
confusedly
beneath
it
.
Massive
leg
-
like
pillars
that
had
supported
the
Nostromo
now
folded
neatly
into
her
metal
belly
.
A
slight
thump
sounded
on
the
bridge
,
confirming
computer
telltales
.
’
Struts
retracted
,
’
Ripley
announced
.
’
Closing
shields
.
’
Metal
plates
slid
tightly
shut
over
the
strut
housings
,
sealing
out
dust
particles
and
alien
atmosphere
.
’
Standing
by
,
’
declared
Ash
.
’
Okay
.
Ripley
,
Kane
’
s
not
here
,
so
it
’
s
all
yours
.
Take
us
up
.
’
She
nudged
a
double
lever
on
the
exec
’
s
console
.
The
roaring
outside
was
deafening
now
,
though
there
was
nothing
to
hear
and
be
suitably
impressed
by
the
cleverness
of
mankind
.
Inclined
slightly
upward
,
the
Nostromo
began
to
move
forward
.
’
Rolling
up
the
G
’
s
,
’
she
said
,
hitting
several
additional
buttons
.
’
And
here
we
go
.
’
Moving
sharply
skyward
and
accelerating
steadily
,
the
tug
suddenly
leaped
ahead
.
Powerful
winds
clutched
at
the
tough
,
alloyed
skin
,
neither
slowed
the
starship
nor
altered
its
course
.
Lambert
’
s
attention
was
fixed
on
one
particular
gauge
.
’
One
kilometre
and
ascending
.
On
course
.
Orbital
insertion
in
five
point
three
two
minutes
.
’
If
,
she
added
silently
to
herself
,
we
hold
together
that
long
.
’
Sounding
good
,
’
Dallas
murmured
,
watching
two
lines
overlap
pleasingly
on
his
console
.
’
Engage
artificial
gravity
.
’
