And to think her group of seven felt like a throng. The Nostromo's corridors were to be walked in single-files lines, and console areas afforded little by way of wiggle room. This didn't matter, of course, because they spent a majority of their travels tucked away in sleek white eggs while Mother shepherded them forward.

"Our ship was Mother, too. Not the ship technically, but the intelligence system that ran it." Then, as an aside; "...She turned out to be a real bitch in the end."

The train car shutters as it slows to a stop.

"But a city- that I'm not sure I could ever get used to. You're asking for trouble canning that many people together in one spot."