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Which
was
fine
with
Dallas
.
He
wasn
’
t
in
a
talkative
mood
.
He
typed
briefly
,
WHAT
’
S
THE
STORY
,
MOTHER
?
and
waited
.
.
You
couldn
’
t
say
that
the
bridge
of
the
Nostromo
was
spacious
.
Rather
,
it
was
somewhat
less
claustrophobic
than
the
ship
’
s
other
rooms
and
chambers
,
but
not
by
much
.
Five
contour
seats
awaited
their
respective
occupants
.
Lights
flashed
patiently
on
and
off
at
multiple
consoles
,
while
numerous
screens
of
varying
shapes
and
sizes
also
awaited
the
arrival
of
humans
who
were
prepared
to
tell
them
what
to
display
.
A
large
bridge
would
have
been
an
expensive
frivolity
,
since
the
crew
spent
most
of
its
flight
time
motionless
in
the
freezers
.
It
was
designed
strictly
for
work
,
not
for
relaxation
or
entertainment
.
The
people
who
worked
there
knew
this
as
thoroughly
as
did
the
machines
.
A
seal
door
slid
silently
into
a
wall
.
Kane
entered
,
followed
closely
by
Ripley
,
Lambert
,
and
Ash
.
They
made
their
way
to
their
respective
stations
,
settled
behind
consoles
with
the
ease
and
familiarity
of
old
friends
greeting
one
another
after
a
long
time
apart
.
A
fifth
seat
remained
empty
,
would
continue
unoccupied
until
Dallas
returned
from
his
tГЄte
-
a
-
tГЄte
with
Mother
,
the
Nostromo
’
s
Mind
Bank
computer
.
The
nickname
was
an
accurate
one
,
not
given
in
jest
.
People
grow
very
serious
when
speaking
about
the
machinery
responsible
for
keeping
them
alive
.
For
its
part
,
the
machine
accepted
the
designation
with
equal
solemnity
,
if
not
the
emotional
overtones
.
Their
clothing
was
as
relaxed
as
their
bodies
,
casual
travesties
of
crew
-
member
uniforms
.
Each
reflected
the
personality
of
the
wearer
.
Shirts
and
slacks
,
all
were
rumpled
and
worn
after
years
of
storage
.
So
were
the
bodies
they
encased
.
The
first
sounds
spoken
on
the
bridge
in
many
years
summed
up
the
feelings
of
all
present
,
even
though
they
couldn
’
t
understand
them
.
Jones
was
meowing
when
Ripley
set
him
on
the
deck
.
He
changed
that
to
a
purr
,
sliding
sensuously
around
her
ankles
as
she
snuggled
herself
into
the
high
-
backed
seat
.
’
Plug
us
in
.
’
Kane
was
checking
out
his
own
console
,
caressing
the
automatics
with
his
eyes
,
hunting
for
contrasts
and
uncertainties
as
Ripley
and
Lambert
commenced
throwing
necessary
switches
and
thumbing
requisite
controls
.
There
was
a
flurry
of
visual
excitement
as
new
lights
and
colours
migrated
across
readout
panels
and
screens
.
It
gave
the
feeling
that
the
instruments
were
pleased
by
the
reappearance
of
their
organic
counterparts
and
were
anxious
to
display
their
talents
at
first
opportunity
.
