Original subtitles

(woman vocalizing)

(glass cracks)

(vocalizing continues)

(sizzling)

(automated voice) Stasis interrupted.

Fire in cryogenic compartment. (alarm blaring)

Repeat. Fire in cryogenic compartment.

All personnel report to

emergency escape vehicle Launchpad.

Deep space flight will commence

in T minus 20 seconds.

(siren wailing)

(breathing heavily)

(alarm blaring)

(woman vocalizing)

(thunder rumbling)

(indistinct talking) (wind whooshing)

MAN 1: Oh, Jesus Christ!

MAN 2: Hell of a way to make a landing. Get the torch.

(grunts)

How many? Don't know.

Three, maybe four.

Hey, Frank, can we hurry this up?

It's gonna be 40 below in five minutes.

(exclaims) (barking)

Come here! Come here!

I'm gonna kill that thing! Hush up! Stop it!

That stupid dog of yours, get it outta here!

I hate that thing. Get rid of the dog. Good. Come on! Come on!

Bad way to go, huh? (chuckles)

Hey, Frank, come on. Let's go. Let's go.

Wait!

One of them's still alive.

(grunting)

Need any of this? CLEMENS: Right.

We're gonna need all of those.

That's it. Okay. You're all right. (inhaling)

(indistinct yelling)

(barking)

(barking continues)

This is rumor control. Here are the facts.

As some of you know,

a 337 model EEV

crash-landed here at 0600

on the morning watch.

There was one survivor,

two dead and a droid that was hopelessly smashed beyond repair.

The survivor is a woman.

(all clamoring)

I just want to say that I have taken a vow of celibacy.

INMATE: So have we all. That also includes women.

MAN: Yes. We've all taken the vow!

MAN 2: Shut your gob, Morse. MORSE: I'd like to say, that I for one,

do not appreciate company policy allowing her to freely

intermingle with inmates and the rest of the staff.

What brother means to say is we view the presence of any outsider,

especially a woman,

as a violation of the harmony,

a potential break in the spiritual unity.

We are well aware of your feelings in this matter.

You will be pleased to know that I have requested a rescue team.

Hopefully, they will be here inside of a week

and evacuate her ASAP. MAN 3: Oh, come one!

INMATE: Don't give us that!

What's her medical status?

She doesn't seem too badly damaged.

She's unconscious.

Can't give you a more specific diagnosis at the moment.

Will she live?

I would think so.

Look. It's in everybody's interest

the woman doesn't come out of the infirmary until the rescue team arrives.

And certainly not without an escort, right?

Sir.

Gentlemen, we should all stick to our set routine

and not get unduly agitated.

Correct?

All right.

Thank you, gentlemen.

(sighs)

All right.

MAN 4: Better get here soon or there ain't gonna be much left.

Everybody's dead.

What's that?

It's just a little cocktail of my own mix.

Sort of eye-opener.

(breathes heavily) doctor?

My name is Clemens.

I'm a Chief Medical Officer here.

Here? Fury 161.

It's one of Weyland-Yutani's backwater work prisons,

it grieves me to say.

Do you mind?

This is basically a stabilizer.

I really ought to shave your head.

We have a big problem with lice here.

And when you're feeling better, I'll give you some clippers,

and you can tend to your private parts yourself. How'd I get here?

You crash-landed in an EEV.

Evidently separated from your mother ship before you hit our atmosphere.

You have any idea how long you were in hypersleep?

Coming out the way you did can be a jolt on your system.

Yeah, I'll be sick for a couple weeks.

Indeed.

(breathes deeply)

Where are the others?

They didn't make it.

What? They didn't survive.

I have to get to the ship.

I have to get to the ship.

You're in no condition for that.

You wanna get me some clothes, or should I just go like this?

Given the nature of our indigenous population, I would suggest clothes.

(clears throat) None of them have seen a woman in years.

Neither have I for that matter.

CLEMENS: This used to be a 5,000-convict facility.

But it's been reduced to a custodial staff of 25.

RIPLEY: Why? Keep the pilot light on.

Pilot light for what?

CLEMENS (loudly): Blast furnace. Natural methane.

We have a foundry, Lieutenant Ripley.

The inmates forge lead sheets for toxic waste containers.

How do you know my name?

It's stenciled on the back of your shorts.

(men yelling indistinctly)

MAN: Release the cable!

Where are the bodies? We have a morgue.

We put them there until the investigative team arrives in about a week, I think.

(clattering)

There was a droid. Disconnected.

There were bits and pieces of him all over the place.

We put what was left on the rubbish tip.

The corporal was impaled by that safety support.

He never knew what hit him.

And the girl?

She drowned in her cryo-tube.

I don't think she was conscious...

when it happened.

I'm... Sorry.

(sobbing)

(exhales)

(gasps) What's the matter?

Where is she? In the morgue.

I have to see her.

I have to see what's left of her.

Oh, God, there you are.

I've been looking everywhere for you.

Where you been, huh?

(dog whimpering)

Oh, my...

Come here.

You okay? Let me see, Spike. Let me see. Are you okay?

Let me see.

(panting)

What have you been sticking your face into, huh?

Here.

Did somebody do this to you?

What kind of animal would do this to a dog?

(exhales)

Um...

Could I have a moment alone, please?

Yes, of course.

(sighs deeply)

(softly) Forgive me.

What's she doing?

Okay?

No.

We have to do an autopsy.

What? I told you...

We have to make sure how she died.

And I told you

she drowned.

I'm not so sure. I...

I have to see inside of her.

You're disorientated.

Half your system's still in...

I have a very, very good reason.

Well, perhaps you'd like to share that reason.

Possible contagion.

What kind exactly? (sighs)

Cholera. Cholera?

There hasn't been a case of cholera reported for 200 years.

Please.

(cutting skin)

(yawns)

Everything's in place.

There's no sign of infection.

No indication of disease.

The chest.

Open the chest.

Careful.

(bones cracking)

(sobbing)

Lungs.

Flooded with fluid.

Ergo, she drowned.

Now, since I'm not a complete idiot,

would you like to tell me what we're really looking for?

Mr. Clemens.

Superintendent.

I don't believe you've met Lieutenant Ripley.

What's going on, Mr. Clemens?

That's right, sir. What's going on, Mr. Clemens?

Well, first, (clattering)

The lieutenant is feeling much better, I'm happy to say.

Second, in the interest of public health,

I am performing an autopsy. Without my authority.

Well, there didn't seem to be time.

But it's turned out all right.

There's no sign of contagion in the body. Good.

But it might be helpful if Lieutenant Ripley didn't parade around

in front of the prisoners,

as I am told she did in the last hour.

It might also be helpful...

If you kept me informed as to any change in her physical status.

Or would that be asking too much?

We have to cremate the bodies.

Nonsense. We'll keep their bodies on ice

till the rescue team arrives. On ice.

There is the public health issue.

The lieutenant feels that there is still a possibility of a communicable infection.

I thought you said there was no sign of disease.

CLEMENS: It would appear that the child drowned.

But without the benefit of proper laboratory tests,

it's impossible to be absolutely certain.

I would consider it unwise

to tolerate even the possibility of an unwelcomed virus.

An outbreak of cholera would look extremely bad on a report.

Would it not, sir? (clears throat)

We've 25 prisoners in this facility.

All double "y" chromos.

All thieves, rapists, murderers, child molesters. All scum.

Just because they've taken on religion doesn't make them any less dangerous.

I try not to offend their convictions.

I don't want to upset the order.

I don't want ripples in the water.

And I don't want a woman walking around giving them ideas.

I see. For my own personal safety.

Exactly.

I will leave the details of the cremation to you, Mr. Clemens.

They may use the furnace, but I want everyone back in lockup by 2200 hours.

AARON: Recorded, sir.

(♪♪♪)

(clattering)

"We commit this child

"and this man to your keeping, O Lord.

"Their bodies

"have been taken from the shadow of our nights.

"They have been released

"from all darkness and pain."

(growling)

"The child and the man

"have gone beyond our world.

"They are forever eternal

"and everlasting."

(dog barking)

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

DILLON: Why?

Why are the innocent punished?

(growling)

(whimpers)

Why the sacrifice?

Why the pain?

(growls)

(whimpers)

There aren't any promises.

Nothing's certain.

Only that some get called, some get saved.

She won't ever know the hardship and grief

for those of us left behind.

(whimpering)

We commit these bodies to the void

with a glad heart.

(growling)

For within each seed,

there is a promise of a flower.

(gurgling)

And within each death,

no matter how small,

there's always a new life.

(gurgling)

A new beginning.

(growling)

Amen.

(gurgling)

ALL: Amen.

(alien squawking)

MAN 1: I'll tell you, it's fucking weird.

The only one to survive that crash is a woman.

MAN 2: What trouble can she become?

MAN 3: She's already changed everything.

(chattering continues)

(water running)

(overlapping chatter)

(man laughs) MAN: Won't be around here, that's for sure.

Hello.

I just wanted to, uh, say thanks for what you said at the funeral.

My friends would have appreciated it.

Yeah, well, you don't wanna know me, lady.

I'm a murderer and rapist of women.

Really?

Well, I guess I must make you nervous.

You have any faith, sister?

Not much.

Well, we've got a lot of faith here.

Enough even for you.

I thought women weren't allowed.

Well, we've never had any before,

but we tolerate anybody.

Even the intolerable.

Thank you.

That's just a statement of principle. Nothing personal.

You see, we've got a good place to wait here.

And until now, no temptation.

CLEMENS: Dillon and the rest of the alternative people

embraced religion, as it were, about five years ago.

Tincture? RIPLEY: I'm on medication.

CLEMENS: Hardly. What kind of religion?

Some sort of apocalyptic, millenarian, Christian fundamentalist, uh...

RIPLEY: Right. Exactly.

Point is, when the company wanted to close the facility down,

Dillon and the rest of the converts wanted to stay.

And they were allowed to remain as custodians...

With two minders

and a medical officer.

Here we are.

How did you get this wonderful assignment?

How do you like your new haircut?

It's okay.

Now that I've gone out on a limb for you with Andrews,

damaged my already less-than-perfect relationship with that good man,

and briefed you

on the humdrum history of Fury 161,

can you not tell me what you were looking for in the girl?

Are you attracted to me?

In what way?

In that way.

Very direct.

I've been out here a long time.

♪ In the year 7510 ♪

♪ The Gods are comin' ♪

♪ You ought make your life end ♪

♪ Maybe he'll look around and say ♪

♪ Yes, it's time for the judgment... ♪

Yech!

♪ In the year... ♪

Hey, Spike.

Spike? Spikey!

Are you down there? What are you doing?

(screaming)

I really appreciate your affections,

but I am aware that they deflected my question.

In the nicest possible way, of course.

RIPLEY: You're spoiling the mood.

I have a job to do. Hmm.

I just want to know why we had to cremate the bodies.

I had a terrible dream in hypersleep.

And I had to be sure what killed her.

Anyway, I made a mistake.

Possibly.

(sighs deeply)

And now I've made another mistake.

Really? What's that?

Fraternizing with a prisoner.

Physical contact.

It's against the rules, isn't it?

I'm not a prisoner.

You have a bar code on the back of your head.

(sighs)

That does deserve an explanation.

But I don't think now is the moment.

(intercom buzzes) AARON (on intercom): Mr. Clemens.

Mr. Aaron.

Superintendent Andrews would like you to report

to vent shaft 22 on the second quadrant now.

We've had an accident. Something serious?

AARON: You could call it that.

One of our prisoners has been diced.

Sorry. I have to go.

Official duties.

Who was it?

Murphy.

How do you know?

That's his boot.

I gave him the assignment, sir. He was a wanker.

No apologies, Mr. Aaron. It wasn't your fault.

Well, not much to say, is there?

Death was instantaneous. No shit.

I take it he was pulled into the fan.

A sudden rush of air, I'd imagine, except...

Right. Almost happened to me once.

I've told him so many times, "Stay away from the fans."

Nobody bloody listens.

Except the fan was blowing.

What's that? I don't know.

I want to see you in my quarters in 30 minutes, if you please, Mr. Clemens.

AARON: Have you got any ideas?

(device beeping)

Here you are.

You know, wandering around without an escort

is really gonna piss Superintendent Andrews off.

Will you tell me about your accident?

One of the prisoners has been killed.

Really? How? Hmm.

In the air shaft.

Poor sod backed into a nine-foot fan.

I found something at the accident site,

just a bit away from where it happened.

A mark. A burn.

Rather like the one you found on the girl's cryo-tube.

Look. I'm on your side.

I want to help, but I need to know what's going on?

Or what you think is going on.

If you really wanna help,

find me a computer with audio capabilities

so I can access this flight recorder.

We don't have anything like that here.

(sighs) Well, what about Bishop? Bishop?

The droid that crashed with me.

I can point you in the right direction.

I can't join you.

I have a previous engagement.

Listen to me, you piece of shit.

You screw with me one more time, I'll cut you in half.

I'm sorry. I don't think I understand.

At 0700 hours, I received word from the network.

I may point out this is the first high-level communication.

This installation has ever received to my knowledge.

They want this woman looked after.

They consider her to be very high priority. Why?

I have no idea.

But why did you let her out of the infirmary?

This accident with Murphy is what happens

when one of these dumb sons of a bitches walks around with a hard-on.

I'm a doctor. You're the jailer.

We both know exactly what you are.

Sit down.

I think it might be better if I left.

I find you unpleasant to be around.

You do? Isn't that lovely? Consider this, Mr. Clemens.

How would you like me to explain your sordid history

to your newfound friend?

For her personal edification, of course.

Now sit the hell down.

Now, is there anything I should know?

(wind howling)

(grunts)

(thunder rumbling)

(grunting) (♪♪♪)

(screaming)

Shut up, you fuckin' bitch!

Shut up, you bitch!

RIPLEY: God damn it! Let go of me!

Fuck you! No!

Hold still! Shh! Shh!

RIPLEY: No! Goddamn it!

(yelling)

(grunts)

DILLON: You okay?

You son of a bitch!

(grunting)

Take off.

I gotta re-educate some of the brothers.

We've gotta discuss some matters of the spirit.

(grunts)

RAINS: This is like 10 city blocks.

(man chewing loudly)

BOGGS: How many?

RAINS: This makes 176.

Can't you chew a little quieter?

I'm trying to figure out how big this compartment is.

I can't think with all this Goddamn noise you're making.

You're not supposed to swear. I'm sorry.

Now, we've encircled this entire compartment once... Hey.

What?

What the shit is doing that?

GOLIC: You're swearing. Shut up.

It's all right to say "shit." It ain't against God.

What the hell is going on with the candles?

Must be the wind from one of the vent shafts.

Backwash from the closest circulating unit.

If all the candles go out, how we gonna know where we are?

Somebody will just have to go back and relight them.

I guess I'm nominated.

Watch your step, brother.

(metal clanking)

RAINS: Okay, who are the comedians?

(liquid dripping)

(screeches)

(screaming) No!

(both yell) Go!

Quick, grab it. Here. RAINS: Help me! Help me!

BOGGS: Go! Fuckin' go!

Go, go, go! Quick!

(both yelling)

Give me that!

(♪♪♪)

(inaudible)

(metal clatters)

(yells) Get this fucking thing off me!

(screaming) Oh, fuck!

Let me go!

(screams)

(beeping)

(squishing)

(power surges)

Hey.

Hello, Ripley.

Hi, Bishop.

How are you feeling?

My legs hurt.

Hey, listen, I'm sorry.

It's okay. I'm just a glorified toaster.

How are you?

I like your new haircut.

Bishop, can you access data on the flight recorder?

No problem.

(beeping)

I am home.

What happened on the Sulaco?

Why were our cryo-tubes ejected?

(automated voice) Stasis interrupted.

Fire in cryogenic compartment.

Repeat. Fire in cryogenic... What happened?

What started the fire, Bishop?

Can you hear me?

(normal voice) The fire was electrical.

It was in the subflooring.

Did the sensors pick up anything

moving around on the ship prior to separation?

It's very dark here, Ripley. I'm not what I used to be.

Just tell me. Does the recorder indicate anything?

Was there an alien on board?

Yes.

Is it on the Sulaco or did it come with us on the EEV?

It was with us all the way.

Does the company know?

The company knows everything that happened on the ship.

It all goes into the computer and gets sent back to network.

And they want it.

I hurt. Do me a favor. Disconnect me.

I could be reworked, but I'll never be top-of-the-line again.

I'd rather be nothing.

You're sure?

Do it for me, Ripley.

(Ripley sighs)

(power surges)

(exhales)

(men talking indistinctly)

GOLIC: It wasn't me! I didn't do it!

(whimpering) It wasn't... it was the dragon.

Feeds on minds. It was...

Nobody can stop it. What about Boggs and Rains?

They got slaughtered like pigs. It wasn't me!

It wasn't me!

Stark raving mad.

I'm not saying it was anyone's fault, but he should have been chained up.

You called it, sir. Mad as a fucking hatter.

Keep him separated from the rest.

Don't want him causing a panic.

Clemens. Yes.

Sedate this poor idiot.

Not until we know about the brothers.

Now, pull yourself together. Talk to me now.

Now, where are Boggs and Rains?

GOLIC: It wasn't me! ANDREWS: Hopeless.

You're not gonna get anything out of him.

We'll have to send out a search team.

I'm afraid we'll have to assume there's a very good chance

this simple bastard has murdered them.

Now, you don't know that.

He's never lied to me.

He's crazy, he's a fool, but he's not a liar.

He's telling the truth.

I'd like to talk to him about this... this dragon.

It's a dragon.

ANDREWS: You're not talking to anyone, Lieutenant.

I'm not interested in your opinion,

because you are not in full possession of the facts.

This man is a convicted multiple murderer,

known for particularly brutal crimes.

Isn't that right, Mr. Dillon?

Yeah. That part's right.

Then I'll talk to you. It's important.

When I have finished with my official duties,

I will be quite pleased to have a little chat. Yes?

ANDREWS: Let me see if I have this correct, Lieutenant.

It's an eight-foot creature of some kind, with acid for blood,

and it arrived on your spaceship.

It kills on sight and is generally unpleasant.

And, of course, you expect me to accept all this on your word.

No, I don't expect anything.

Quite a story, Mr. Aaron.

Right, sir. It's a beauty.

Never heard anything quite like it, sir.

Expect not.

Tell me, Lieutenant, what would you suggest we do?

Well, what kind of weapons have you got?

This is a prison.

It's not a good idea to allow prisoners access to firearms.

What keeps them from killing you?

Fear. There's no way to escape.

With the arrival of the next supply ship,

the company will eliminate them.

This is a maximum-security prison,

and you have no weapons of any kind?

We have some carving knives in the abattoir.

A few more in the mess hall.

Some fire axes scattered about the place.

Nothing terribly formidable.

That's all?

We're on the honor system.

(exhales)

Then we're fucked.

No, you're fucked.

Confined to the infirmary. Quarantined.

Mr. Aaron will escort you.

I think you'll be safe from any large, nasty beast while you're there, right?

Yes, that's a good girl.

(intercom buzzes)

AARON (over intercom): Let's all report to the mess hall.

Superintendent Andrews wants a meeting.

Mess hall, right away, people.

Isn't there any way off of this place? Some way to escape?

No.

A supply ship comes every six months.

And that's it? That's it.

(whispers) Fuck.

They are sending somebody to pick you up quite soon, I gather.

Really. (clears throat)

(sniffs)

What's soon? I don't know.

Nobody's ever been in a hurry to get here before.

Do you want to tell me what you and Andrews talked about?

No.

You'll just say I'm crazy.

That's a bit uncharitable.

(sniffs)

(coughing)

How are you feeling?

(sighs) Not so hot.

(clears throat)

Sore throat. Sick to my stomach.

Pissed off.

Well, that's understandable given the circumstances.

Perhaps I should give you one of my special cocktails.

GOLIC: I don't know why everybody blames everybody for everything.

Nobody's perfect, only human.

I don't know a perfect human. Nobody I know.

You married?

Me? GOLIC: You should get married, have kids.

Pretty girl.

I used to know lots of them back home.

They used to like me.

For a while.

You're gonna die too.

CLEMENS: Are you?

What?

Married.

RIPLEY: Why?

Just curious.

No.

How about leveling with me?

When I asked how you got assigned here, you avoided the question.

And then when I asked about the prison ID tattooed on the back of your head,

you ducked me again.

CLEMENS: It's a long, sad story.

And more than a little melodramatic.

Try me.

(liquid swishing) If you insist.

After my student years,

despite the fact that I had become

secretly addicted to morphine,

I was considered to be most promising.

A man with a future.

And during my first residency, I did a 36-hour stretch on an ER.

So, I went out and I got more than a little drunk.

Then I got called back.

Boiler had blown on a fuel plant,

and there were 30 casualties.

And 11 of them died.

Not as a result of the accident,

but because I prescribed the wrong dosage of painkiller.

I got seven years in prison and my license reduced to a three-C.

At least I got off the morphine.

I'm sorry.

I think I was let off lightly.

Did you serve your time here?

I got to know this motley crew quite well.

So, when they stayed, I stayed.

Nobody else would employ me.

So, do you still trust me with a needle?

(gasps)

(alien screeches)

(whimpering)

(growls) (yells)

(whimpering)

Once again, this is rumor control.

Here are the facts.

At 0800 hours, prisoner Murphy,

through carelessness on his part,

was found dead in vent shaft 17.

He seems to have been sucked into a ventilator fan.

(panting)

At about 2100 hours,

prisoner Golic reappeared in a deranged state.

Prisoners Boggs and rains are missing.

There seems to be a good chance

that they have met with foul play...

At the hands of prisoner Golic.

(sighs)

We need to organize and send out a search party.

Volunteers will be appreciated.

(panting)

I think it's fair to say

that our smoothly running facility...

Has suddenly developed a few problems.

I can only hope we are able to all pull together

over the next few days...

Until the rescue team arrives for lieutenant Ripley.

It's here! It got Clemens!

Stop this raving at once! Stop it! I'm telling you it's here!

Mr. Aaron, get that foolish woman back to the infirmary!

(Andrews yells) (all yelling)

MAN: Move it!

Out of my way!

Fuck!

MAN: What do we do now? Who's in charge?

Organize. We got to organize, right?

Right. I guess I'm next in line.

85's gonna be in charge. Jesus, give us a break!

Don't call me that.

AARON: Okay, look. There's no way I can replace Andrews.

He was a good man. I know you guys didn't appreciate him.

Aaron, we don't want to hear that shit now.

Hey, sister, what about you? You're an officer.

How about showing us a little leadership.

Forget fucking Shirley temple. You take charge.

Right. You run things here anyway.

No fucking way. I'm not the officer type.

I just take care of my own.

MAN: Well, what does this fucking beast want?

Is this mother gonna try for us all?

Yeah. Well, ain't that sweet?

So how are we gonna stop it? (clears throat)

We have no weapons. Is that correct?

Right.

I haven't seen one exactly like this before.

Moves differently.

But the others were afraid of fire.

Not much else.

Can we seal off this area? No chance.

The installation's 10 miles square.

There's 600 air ducts running to the surface. What about video?

I see these closed-circuit monitors everywhere.

We could try to find it out.

The video system hasn't worked in years.

Nothing much works here.

We've got a lot of technology, no way to fix it.

What 85 is trying to tell you is...

Don't call me that! We ain't got no entertainment center,

no climate control, no video system, no surveillance,

no freezers, no fucking ice cream,

no rubbers, no women, no guns.

All we got here is shit!

Oh, what the hell are we even talking to her for?

She's the one that brought the fucker.

Why don't we just get her head

and shove it through the fucking wall?

DILLON: Morse.

Why don't you shut the fuck up?

Hmm.

Right.

Right. What are we going to do?

What's this?

Um, that leads from the mess hall to the infirmary.

It's a ventilation shaft.

Then we go in there, flush it out.

Hey. Hey, look, there's miles and miles of tunnel through there.

It won't go far.

It'll nest in this area.

Right around...

Here.

How do you know that?

It's like a lion.

It sticks close to the zebras.

Zebras? Oh, right.

But, look. Running around down here in the dark. Are you kidding?

Once you get out of this main shaft, there's no overheads.

Don't we have flashlights?

We've got thousands of 'em, but no batteries.

I told you, nothing works. Torches?

Do we have the capacity to make fire?

Most humans have enjoyed that privilege since the stone age.

No need to be sarcastic.

Never been used.

They were gonna dump a lot of nuclear crap in there.

Never got around to it.

It's clean as a whistle inside.

This the only way in or out?

That's right. Walls are six feet thick, solid steel.

Really knew how to build these babies.

You're saying we get something in there,

there's no way it can get out?

That's right. No fucking way.

(whistles)

This is where we keep it. I forget what the stuff's called.

Quinitricetyline. I knew that.

Right. I've got to get these section

arrangements organized with Dillon...

For the paintbrush, uh...

So, um... David.

Yeah. You can get these drums organized.

Right, 85.

And, uh,

don't call me that.

What's this "85" thing?

A couple of us sneaked a look at his personnel file the day he arrived.

It's his I. Q.

(chuckles)

I saw a drum of this stuff...

Fall into a beachhead bunker once.

The blast put a tug in dry dock for 17 weeks.

Great stuff!

All right. Let me get this straight.

You want to burn it down and out of the pipes,

force it in here, slam the door and trap its ass?

Right. And you want...

help from us y-chromo boys, huh?

You got something better to do?

Why should we put our ass on the line for you?

RIPLEY: Your ass is already on the line.

The only question is...

What are you gonna do about it?

(chattering)

MAN: Man, this stuff stinks.

So you miss doc, right?

What makes you say that?

I thought you two got real close.

(sighs)

I guess you've been looking through some keyholes.

That's what I thought.

(exhales)

Oh!

I hate this place. I hate this place.

Wow.

There's definitely something in here with us.

Okay. Don't light the fire until I give the signal.

This is the signal.

Got it? Can you remember that?

Aaah...

(groans) Shit!

(groaning)

(exhales)

(hissing)

Aaah! Help me!

Aaah!

(screaming)

(muttering) B...

Wait for the fucking signal!

(explosion)

Get down!

Aaah!

Come on! We gotta find the sprinklers!

Come on! We gotta help these guys!

(screaming)

Come on!

Through the waste dump. Don't open the doors!

(explosion) (screaming)

AARON: Dillon, over here. Here's another one.

Oh, Jesus. This makes 10.

MORSE: Fucking great!

(exhales) Well, now what are we gonna do?

(exhales)

You okay? Oh, piss on her!

The fucking thing's loose out there. What are we gonna do?

AARON: I just said that, you miserable little shit!

Come on. Cut that shit out.

AARON: Tell your fucking bozo to shape up!

(gasping)

(stammering) What do you think?

(exhales) I think I have to get to the EEV.

Why? What's up?

I just have to use the neuroscanner.

You don't look so good.

Who gives a shit how she looks? What are we going to do?

Want a smack in the mouth, you stupid wanker?

Shut the fuck up and stop causing panic!

Panic? You're so fucking stupid, you couldn't spell it.

Don't talk to me about panic. We ought to fucking panic!

Shut up, both of you!

DILLON: Shut up!

Well, I'm out of ideas!

Oh, surprise me.

What about outside? Great idea.

The sun don't come up for another two days. It's 40 below zero.

The rescue team's 10 hours away. So that makes a lot of sense!

Wonderful. You just want us to stay here and let this thing have us for lunch!

I want you to get everybody that's still left together.

Come down to the furnace. Okay.

Need any help?

(exhales)

I didn't mean to scare you.

You shouldn't be wandering around alone.

Do me a favor and run this keyboard, will you?

Okay.

What do I do?

Hit "B" or "C."

What's "C"?

"Display biofunctions." That's it.

(electrical pulses)

Okay, we're hot. Now what?

Let it run a cycle.

AARON: It's real fuzzy.

Hit "enhancement." (pulsing continues)

(inhales)

Keep looking.

I don't know how to read this stuff.

RIPLEY: Hemorrhaging will show as a dark patch.

(clears throat) Look for...

Hairline fractures through the base of the skull.

(electrical drone) Little white lines.

What is it?

I think you've got one inside of you.

That's not possible.

(panting) What does it look like?

Horrible.

I have to see it.

Freeze it. You don't want to look at it.

Freeze it!

(beeping)

I'm sorry.

It's up.

What do you want to say?

Tell them the whole place has gone toxic.

Are you kidding?

Then they won't come here. The rescue team will turn back.

Yeah. I know.

What are you talking about?

Our only hope is that they kill this fucker.

And maybe they can do something for you.

I don't know, freeze you...

They can do an operation. They've got the technology.

If this organism gets off the planet, it'll kill everything.

The company doesn't care about that.

They just want it for their bioweapons division, okay?

So we can't let them come here.

Fuck you.

Look, I'm sorry you've got this thing inside you, but I'm getting rescued.

I don't give a shit about these stupid prisoners, but I've got a wife, a kid.

I'll go home on the next rotation!

I know. This is hard.

I'm gonna send this message back, and I need that fucking code.

I'm sorry, babe. It's classified.

Listen, you stupid little shit! This has got to be done, okay?

There are no alternatives! No way!

You're not getting it! No fucking way!

(computer beeps)

Look, it's nothing personal.

Understand?

I think you're okay.

(exhales)

(chuckles)

Thanks.

Have you got any ideas? I don't know.

Maybe I'll go find it.

We'll see how smart it is.

You're gonna go and look for it? Yeah.

I have a pretty good idea of where it is.

It's just down there... In the basement.

This whole place is a basement. (chuckles)

It's a metaphor.

Wanna come?

Fuck me. (computer beeping)

(machinery clanking) (sighs)

Where are you when I need you?

(clanking)

(hissing)

(exhales)

(water dropping)

Don't be afraid.

I'm part of the family.

(water dropping)

You've been in my life so long,

I can't remember anything else.

Now do something for me.

It's easy.

Just...

Just do what you do.

(grunts) (hisses)

(metal clatters)

(hisses)

RIPLEY: Oh! (thud)

It won't kill me.

What are you doing? You're supposed to be laying low.

I have one inside of me.

What are you talking about? I saw it...

On the cat scan.

It's a queen.

An egg layer.

It can make thousands more like the one we've got here.

Still sounds like bullshit to me.

If that thing's inside you, how'd it get there?

(exhales)

When I was in hyper-sleep, I guess.

I don't have much time,

and I can't do what I should.

I need you to help me.

I need you to kill me.

What the fuck are you talking about? I'm dead anyway.

I can't survive it.

But the one inside of me can generate thousands more.

It has to die.

So somebody's gotta kill me.

Are you up to it?

You don't have to worry about that.

(sighs)

No speeches.

No prayers.

(gasps and sniffs)

(metal clattering)

What's going on? I don't like losing a fight.

(metal clatters)

Not to nobody, not to nothing.

That damn thing out there has already killed half my men.

(panting) Got the other half scared shitless.

As long as it's alive, sister, you're not gonna save any universe.

You fucking coward!

I want that thing!

I want to get this thing, and I need you to do it.

And if it won't kill you, then maybe that helps us fight it.

Otherwise, fuck you! (groans)

(whimpering) Dillon.

We waste this thing,

then you take care of me.

No problem.

Quick, easy and painless.

DILLON: You die sitting here on your ass, or you die out there.

At least we take a shot. We owe it one.

MORSE: What the fuck are you talking about?

DILLON: I'm talkin' about killing that big motherfucker!

MORSE: Doesn't mean we should go out and fight it.

Jesus Christ! Give us a break!

You guys have got to be fucking nuts! Look, I've got a wife and kid.

Nobody gives a shit about you, 85.

You're not one of us. You're not a believer.

You're a fucking company man! Yeah, okay.

Okay, I'm a company man. I'm not a fucking criminal.

You keep telling me how dumb I am.

I'm smart enough not to have a life sentence on this rock!

Fuck you! Piss off, 85!

And I'm smart enough to wait for some firepower to show up...

Before we fight this thing!

Right, Morse? Right. Okay. Just sit here on your asses. Fine.

How about if I sit here on my ass?

No problem.

Oh, I forgot.

You're the guy that's made a deal with God...

To live forever, huh?

And all the rest of you pussies can sit it out too.

Me and her will do all the fighting.

Okay. But I want the same thing as you.

I want to see it dead. I hate the fucker!

It killed my mates too!

Why the fuck can't we wait for the company and have some guns on our side?

Why do we have to go on some fucking suicide run? Right.

Because they won't kill it.

They might kill you just for having seen it. But they're not gonna kill it.

That is crazy! That is horseshit!

They will not kill us!

When they first heard about this thing,

it was crew expendable.

The next time they sent in marines.

They were expendable too.

What makes you think they're gonna care about a bunch of lifers...

Who found God at the ass-end of space?

RIPLEY: You really think they're going to let you

interfere with their plans for this thing?

They think we're, we're crud.

And they don't give a fuck about one friend of yours...

That's, that's died.

Not one.

Have you got some sort of plan?

This is a lead works, isn't it?

All we got to do is lure the fucking beast into the mold,

drown it in hot lead.

All right. So how do we do that?

Yeah. What are we gonna use for bait?

Oh, fuck!

You're all gonna die.

The only question is how you check out.

Do you want it on your feet...

Or on your fucking knees, begging?

I ain't much for begging.

Nobody ever gave me nothin'.

So I say fuck that thing!

Let's fight it!

Fuck it! Let's go for it!

(chattering)

MAN 1: Let's kick its fucking ass. MAN 2: What if it runs at us?

MAN 3: That's a fucking good idea.

(automated voice) Two, one. Open.

When was the last time you used this place?

We fired it up five, six years ago.

RIPLEY: You sure the piston's gonna work?

DILLON: There's nothing for sure in this place.

(crackling)

We trap it here first, then you pull the lever.

Start the piston.

The piston's gonna push the motherfucker right into the mold.

Then one of the guys will pour the lead.

End of his ass. End of story.

What if somebody screws it up?

We're fucked. You got one chance.

One shot at it. That's all.

We'll never have time to reset it. Now remember,

when you pull the lever,

for a few seconds you're gonna be trapped in here with that fuckin' thing.

If you guys don't drop the ball, I won't.

You just better be right about that thing not wanting you.

Because if it wants out, that's how it's gonna go.

Through that alcove, through you.

Where are you gonna be? I'll be around.

What about the others? Where are they?

Praying.

I have a problem with this. What part?

The part where we're running around

in a dark fucking maze with that thing chasing us.

You'll lead it down channel "B" to the piston chamber.

I'll close the doors behind you.

(automated voice) Channel "J." Door "A" open.

Hey! What if it won't cooperate?

What if we get lost?

This was her idea.

(indistinct automated voice)

I don't know about this shit.

Hey, guys! My door ain't working!

What the fuck's he saying?

I think we'd better rethink this thing! (echoing)

(distant) Aaah!

Did anybody hear anything?

Come on! Come and get me, you fucker!

It's behind me!

It's started.

It's still behind me!

It's in channel "B"!

It's still coming! Shut the doors!

Must be heading over to channel "A"!

This thing is really pissed off!

Did you say "B"? No, "E"!

But you said we should stay here! Move your fucking ass!

Morse.

Kevin!

Yoo-hoo! Hey, fuckface!

Come and get me!

Take your best shot!

(indistinct shouting)

Kevin, where are you?

"A-7" closed.

(indistinct shouting)

Over in the east wing. Door "B-7" safe!

Aaah!

(groaning)

You too? Yeah! Okay.

Over to "E," everybody! Where the fuck is "E"?

This way!

(panting)

(panting)

Here, here, kitty, kitty, kitty.

Here, kitty, kitty.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my...

You bastard! (hissing)

It's coming!

It's coming down! Geez, it's coming!

It's onto us!

Shut the fucking doors! That was the plan!

Jeez, it's on the fucking ceiling!

Dillon! Anybody! This is not a drill!

Kevin! Gregor!

Where the fuck are you?

(indistinct shouting)

Now I'm back in "A"!

Come on.

(indistinct automated voice)

Door 3, "F" channel closed!

I hope.

(grunts) Fuck!

What the fuck are you doing?

What? Don't hold it like that.

Hold it like this. What the fuck...

You'll fucking kill someone, you fucking moron! Ow!

(hissing) Aaah!

DILLON: Morse! Kevin! MORSE: Aaah!

Gregor!

All they have to do is run down the damn corridor.

Stay here.

Where the hell is it?

(indistinct shouting)

(shouting continues)

(panting)

(hissing) Aaah!

MAN: It's coming.

Aaah! (whimpering)

No! Don't start the piston!

No! We have to trap it! No! (grunting)

What are you doing? It's gone!

No! No. I can, I can...

(panting)

It's gone.

Okay?

Okay.

(gasps)

(indistinct screaming)

What the heck?

Aaah! All right!

Kevin! Don't struggle! (groaning)

Don't move! No! Don't struggle.

Come on. Come on, Kevin. Come on!

Come on! Come on! Come on. (gagging)

The doors. It's coming!

Take the piston!

(groaning) Come on. I got ya.

It's all right. It's okay.

I got ya. It's okay. It's all right, Kevin.

Kevin. Kevin!

Kevin.

(door closing)

Leave him.

Leave him. He's dead. We lured him.

(hissing)

(power surging)

Shit. How much time?

DILLON: I'm not sure. Four or five minutes.

But we've got to get it back in here

before the piston seals this place off.

Now, let's move it!

(gasps)

(indistinct automated voice)

(grunts)

(panting)

(indistinct shouting)

(machine whirring)

Help me! Jude!

(Jude screaming) Dillon! Help me, Dillon!

It's coming at me!

Goddamn it! Don't look back, Jude!

Run as fast as you fucking can!

(shouting) Help me!

God! Please! Help!

(explosion) (indistinct computer voice)

(machine whirring)

(indistinct computer voice)

(automated voice) Channel "C."

(panting)

(door opening)

Jesus Christ! Thank God you're here.

Warder Aaron, sir. 1-3-7-5-1-2.

Not many of us left, sir.

Where is lieutenant Ripley?

Is she still alive?

If she's alive, she's in the furnace.

She's in the lead works with the beast.

Wouldn't wait.

(grunting)

Jesus Christ.

You fucker. Scared me shitless!

(laughing) I thought you were the fucking beast. You fuck!

(laughing)

Aaah! Wanker!

(panting and gasping)

Move. Come on, you bastard.

Come on! Come on, get out of there!

Come here!

DILLON: Ripley, we're running out of time!

(grunting)

Ripley, where are you? (grunting)

(groaning)

(Ripley grunting)

(grunts)

(grunts)

RIPLEY: I'm over here. Come on!

Come on. Get out of there!

What are you doing? What the fuck is wrong with you? No! No!

Let it go! Ripley!

Scream. To the pistons! No!

DILLON: Let it follow us. RIPLEY: Come on!

DILLON: We got to get it in front of the piston. RIPLEY: Get back here.

RIPLEY: It's following us!

DILLON: Come and get us! Come on!

RIPLEY: Open the door! DILLON: Come on, come on.

Come on, motherfucker! Come on.

RIPLEY: Come on! Get the door!

Get the door! Morse!

RIPLEY: Now! DILLON: Shut it!

Shut it, Morse! (gasps)

Morse, shut that door!

Now! DILLON: Shut the fucking door!

I'm going for the lead!

(hissing)

Now! I'm staying. What about you?

Bullshit! There's gonna be 10 tons of hot lead in there!

I'm telling you, I want to die!

We got a deal! Remember? It dies first, then you!

I'm not gonna move without you! Now get going!

(hissing)

Dillon! I've got to hold it here.

What about me?

God will take care of you now, sister!

No!

Pour the lead.

Fuck you. (hissing)

(screaming) Pour it, Ripley!

Go on! God damn it!

Pour the lead, Ripley! Pour it now!

DILLON: Come on! Come on! That's all you've got?

Fight mother fucker! Come on, do it.

Morse! Morse, over here!

(Dillon screaming)

Ripley! Pour the lead!

(Dillon screaming) RIPLEY: Pour the lead!

Aaah!

Pour it!

(gasping) (grunts)

(groans)

(laughing)

All right, bug!

(hissing)

(grunting)

Ripley! It's scalding hot!

Hit the sprinklers!

Douse the fucker!

(gasps)

(hissing)

Gotcha!

Yes!

(coughing)

(gasps)

Don't come any closer.

Wait. They're here to help.

Stay where you are.

Ripley.

Bishop.

I'm here to help you. RIPLEY: No more bullshit.

I just felt it move.

Do you know who I am?

You're a droid.

Same model as bishop. Sent by the fucking company.

No. I'm not the Bishop Android.

I designed it.

I'm very human.

The company sent me here to show you a friendly face,

to demonstrate how important you are to us...

To me...

You just want to take it back.

We want to kill it and take you home.

Bullshit.

You're wrong.

We want to help. What does that mean?

We're gonna take that out of you.

And keep it.

Can't allow it to live.

Everything we know would be in jeopardy.

You don't want to take it back?

Ripley, time is important.

We've got a surgical bay set up on the rescue ship. Come with me.

You still can have a life.

Children.

And most important, you'll know it's dead.

Let me help you.

What guarantee do I have,

once you've taken it out,

you'll destroy it?

You'll have to trust me.

Please? Trust me?

No.

What's this going to achieve? Aaah!

Stop! Ow! Oh, Jesus!

(groaning)

Morse.

Will you help me?

What do you want me to do?

It was a mistake! There was no need for any of it!

Fucking android!

Ripley, think of all we could learn from it.

It's the chance of a lifetime!

You must let me have it!

It's a magnificent specimen!

What are you doing?

No!

(screeching)

(grunts)

Come on, you. Get going. Oh, fuck you!

(Ripley's voice) Ash, captain Dallas are dead.

Cargo and ship destroyed.

I should reach the frontier in about six weeks.

With a little luck, the network will pick me up.

This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo...

Signing off.

(beeping)