A romancização do filme indica que o acidente causou faíscas dentro das máquinas que alimentaram o cryo -Pods seu fornecimento de atmosfera respirável.
Lights flashed around her and from several wall-mounted panels, sparks erupting in satanic electronic celebration. There was also smoke. Smoke in a spaceship was a bad sign indeed. At the moment, the scrubbers in the circulation system were barely keeping up with it. Alarms assailed her ears.
A mudança na atmosfera na cápsula foi imediatamente reconhecida como um risco de incêndio.
Swirling vapor began to accumulate beneath the transparent lid, masking their view of the sleeper. That was most definitely not normal. Worse still, she knew what it signaled, and what would happen if—
O fogo parece ter se espalhado ao longo dos tubos que alimentaram a atmosfera para o cryo-pod, resultando em uma ignição.
Inside the pod, an explosion. Compared to the cacophony of other sounds throughout the hypersleep bay, it wasn’t loud, but it was significant enough to cause both men to draw back reflexively. On the other side of the clear plastic lid there was a sudden increase in vapor and for the first time… fire. Uttering a primal whine, a hysterical Daniels threw herself onto the pod, clawing desperately at the ineffective rescue device.
Within, her husband’s eyes suddenly snapped open as he finally began to awaken. Through the vapor and the intensifying flames, there was recognition. His gaze locked on hers. It lasted only for an instant. Just like his smile. Both were his last.
Daniels continued to scream, and the inside of the pod was engulfed in flames as if someone had tossed a torch onto a pile of combustible material. Though initially resistant to fire, when the interior finally caught it burned hot and fast. Everything ignited—bed, support tubing, instruments… Jacob.