genetic material obtained from the military
transport vessel... We attempted to clone the
xenomorph in stasis.  Failure of the stasis
system occurred in the fifteenth hour... Attempted
modification of the genetic structure has resulted
in a variant which replicates rapidly, more
rapidly...
(and here, horribly,
she smiles)
It has... taken... most of us.  Those of us who
remain... We wish to warn you:  you must terminate
any experiment with the material now.  It is
impossible.  It cannot be contained.  There is
no --

The image flickers, vanishes.

ANGLE

JACKSON
Lost 'em.  That's it... Goddamnit, she was just
a tech.  Their brass didn't bother...

HICKS
No brass left...

JACKSON
And you better check this, Hicks.

Her other screens display assorted images of nearly identical tunnels and
passageways, but three of them are black; she gestures to the dark screens.

JACKSON
(continuing)
This is down by the main air-scrubber.  System
says those cameras are still operational, but
there's something in the way.  Something big...

EXT. ANCHORPOINT -- ECO-MODULE

Huge louvers pivot smoothly, like Venetian blinds, revealing lush vegetation
through thick plastic...

INT. ECO-MODULE

Spence sits cross-legged in Newt's meadow, tearfully hugging a small tame
primate.  Light crosses the meadow as the louvers open overhead, beyond the
geodesics.  Artificial dawn.  BIRDS begins to sing.  Quiet before the storm...

EXT. RODINA

No sign of movement.

Dimly lit.  Clutter of spacesuits, machinery.  The Vietnamese commando seated
on the floor, back to the wall, cradling her gun.  The corpse of her partner
is sprawled on the deck beside her, face hideously burned, his armor
fretworked with acid.  Her face is blank, eyes straight ahead.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. ANCHORPOINT

The station.

INT. ANCHORPOINT -- MEDLAB -- CORRIDOR

Hicks, still in his fighting gear, walking purposefully.  MedLab staff in
hospital whites dubiously note his passage.

INT. MED LAB -- RIPLEY'S ROOM

Ripley comatose, still hooked up to assorted biomonitors, the only movement
in the room the restless flicker of a bank of colored diodes.

Hicks enters, crosses to the bed, seems about to speak, makes a helpless
little gesture with his hands -- then yanks the biomonitor leads from the
bedside console.  The diodes go out; a buzzer begins to SOUND.  The bed is
mounted on casters.  He starts to pull it out of the room.  Stops.  Looks up
at Newt's map on the wall.

He rips the map from the wall and stuffs it into her hospital gown.

INT. MEDLAB -- CORRIDOR

Hicks hustles Ripley through MedLab, not about to stop for anyone; startled
staff jump out of the way.

INT. ANCHORPOINT -- ANOTHER CORRIDOR -- ENTRANCE TO A LIFEBOAT

Signs and notices detailing lifeboat launch procedures.  Hicks lifts Ripley
from the bed, carries her through hatch into lifeboat.  Places her in a
hypersleep capsule, presses a button.  The lid comes down.  Silent moment as
he looks down at her through the lid, his palm on the smooth plastic in a
gesture of farewell, resignation.  Then back through the hatch, where he
activates controls that seal the boat, setting the launch-procedure in
motion.

ANGLE on the blunt prows of the lifeboat receding around the curve of the
station's hull.

INT. LIFEBOAT BAY

Hicks watching digital countdown.  Muted WHUMP of explosive bolts --

EXT. LIFEBOAT

Flash of the bolts as Ripley's boat is launched into the sweep of night.

INT. LIFEBOAT BAY

Bishop enters behind Hicks.

BISHOP
But can you be certain she hasn't been infected?

HICKS
I'll take the chance.

BISHOP
Why?

HICKS
I owe her one.

INT. OPS ROOM

Jackson at her screens; display as before, the tunnels near the air-
scrubber -- with three screens dark.  CLOSEUP on one tunnel-view as an open,
six-wheeled personnel carrier rolls past the video camera, Hick looking up.
Five Marines in full battle dress ride with him: ALSOP, GREENFIELD, BRICE,
COSTELLO, WALLACE.

JACKSON
Next junction, hang a right...

INT. TUNNEL

Dim; light spaced far apart along tunnel.  The carrier takes a right.

JACKSON (V.O.)
Left at the fork and you wanna take it slow.
Fifty meters to whatever's in front of that
camera...

Hicks gestures to Wallace, the driver.  The carrier halts.  SOUND of the air-
scrubbers from down the tunnel.  The Marines shift their weapons, uneasily eye
the tunnel ahead.  These are young recruits, not the hard-case vets of
"ALIENS."

HICKS
Now listen up.  We don't do this by the book,
we don't pair off.  Stay together, tight.
Greenfield up front with me; anything moves,
you torch it.  The rest of you, if it moves,
kill it.  You gotta get the fuckers before they
get close.  You know about the acid; you know
they don't show on infrared.  And you know you
don't let them take you alive.  You might have
to do a friend a favor... Ready?  Move out.

He climbs down from the carrier, heavily burdened with gear.  The others
follow.  Greenfield has a flamethrower.  They move forward.  Toward the next
light; beyond it, the tunnel curves out of sight.

JACKSON (V.O.)
You're right up on it, Hicks.  Right around the
corner...

HICKS
Affirmative...

They round the turn, weapons ready.  And stop, stunned.

GREENFIELD
Wha' 'th...?

The tunnel, which widens here as it approaches the massive air-scrubber, has
been transformed; its lights are dimly visible through shrouds of resin.  Vast
ribs of the stuff sweep up from a dim and monstrous shape that covers the deck
at the base of the scrubber; we're looking into an Alien grotto, black and
pearlescent, and obscene fairyland.  The shape's symmetry suggest function.
Patient DRUMMING of the air-scrubber's giant fans.

HICKS
Scan it.  Motion?

COSTELLO
(consulting tracker,
adjusting knob)
Negative.

HICKS
Alsop, gimme the flood...

Alsop passes Hicks a portable halogen-flood.  Hicks thumbs it on...

WALLACE
Holy Christ.

The central shape is revealed as an enormous mutant queen.  The thing is