Чужой
VIII
Dallaswasbeginningtobelievethey’dmakeitwithoutanytroublewhenaviolenttremorranthroughthebridge.Itsentpersonalpossessionsandthefranticthoughtsofthecrewflying.Thetremorlastedonlyaninstant,wasn’trepeated.
’Whatthehellwasthat?’Dallaswonderedaloud.Bywayofreply,the’combeepedforattention.
’Thatyou,Parker?’
’Yeah.Wehadsometroublebackhere.’
’Serious?’
’Starboardquad’soverheating.Judgeforyourself.’
’Canyoufixit?’
’Areyoukidding?I’mshuttingitdown.’
’Compensatingagainforunequalthrust,’Ripleyannouncedsolemnly.
’Justholdustogetheruntilwe’rebeyonddoublezero,’Dallasaskedthepickup.
’Whatdoyouthinkwe’retryingtodobackhere?’Theintercomclickedoff.
Aslightchangeintheroaringoftheenginesbecameaudibleonthebridge.Noonelookedattheirneighbour,forfearofseeingtheirownworryreflectedthere.
Movingalittlemoreslowlybutstillslicingeffortlesslythroughboilingclouds,theNostromocontinuedtopowerspaceward,oncoursetomeetwiththedriftingrefinery.
Incontrasttothecomparativecalmofthebridge,theengineroomwasthesceneoffrenziedactivity.Brettwasscoochedupinsideatubeagain,sweatingandwishinghewaselsewhere.
’Gotitfigured?’askedParkerfromoutside.
’Yeah.Ithinkso.Dustiscloggingthedamnintakesagain.Numbertwo’soverheatingnow.?
’Ithoughtweshutthatjunkout.’
’SodidI.Must’veslippedascreenagain.Damnenginesaretoosensitive.’
