Alien: Covenant - The Official Movie Novelization

by Alan Dean Foster

  Upon reaching Origae-6, cargo lifts would transfer the terraforming machinery to the surface. It would be Daniels’ responsibility to ensure that each and every piece of equipment was in working order and ready to go before it left the Covenant. Deployment would be via the main terraforming bay airlock at the far end of the chamber.

  Along with other gear, a row of lockers just inside the crew accessway held neatly racked EVA suits. While Tennessee covered Daniels, she quickly climbed into one. They then switched positions while he did the same. Thus suited up, they performed hasty checks on each other to ensure both suits were fully operational and pressurized.

  “My air’s good,” he told her. “You?”

  She nodded back. “Comm is good.” Turning, she faced the dark, equipment-filled storage area that spread out before them. “Don’t shoot if you can avoid it. Its blood is acidic, and will eat through the deck. If it’s carborane-based, maybe all the way through the hull.”

  He nodded his understanding. “You don’t have to tell me. I saw what it did to the end of the crane on the cargo lifter.” He raised his voice slightly. “You got eyes on it again, Walter?”

  * * *

  On the bridge, the synthetic’s attention was fixed on one monitor. “It is holding in position at door forty-seven. It seems to be… resting.”

  Squatting in a corner, its arms held out in front of it and tail tucked around its legs, the creature appeared to be waiting. Walter prepared to offer it some stimulation. Running a hand over a control, he watched as one of the access doorways opened, leading into the terraforming bay. The instant the portal began to open, the Alien looked up.

  But it did not move.

  “Come on. Come on,” the synthetic murmured.

  It seemed an eternity before the creature finally rose and advanced to explore the new aperture. The great head swung around to scan every corner before finally pausing to gaze at the video pickup. Halting, it peered into the small circular sensor. Inclining forward, the blunt head drew closer, until it was all that was visible.

  On the bridge a fascinated Walter did likewise, bending so that his face was closer and closer to the monitor that showed the creature. For a frozen moment they remained like that, Alien and synthetic, their respective visages seemingly only a hand’s breadth apart.

  Exploding like a gunshot, the inner mouth shattered the video pickup. A startled Walter pulled back, shocked by the suddenness and unexpectedness of the assault. The pickup image that had temporarily held him spellbound went dark. Collecting himself, he switched to different instrumentation as Daniels’ voice echoed over the bridge speakers. For a change it was she, and not he, who was the one entirely under control.

  “In position. Open the door to the terraforming equipment storage bay.”

  “Understood.”

  * * *

  Mouth set, she hefted the F90 Tennessee had chosen for her, confident in the weight of it.

  “Let’s kill this fucker.”

  The door through which the Alien had entered the outer airlock now closed behind it while the inner one opened. With only one way to go, the creature exited the chamber where it had been resting, moving more cautiously than usual.

  Advancing from the other end, Daniels and Tennessee saw it immediately. If it saw them, it gave no sign. Instead, it scurried off in another direction, disappearing into the darkness. Raising their weapons they continued inward, side by side, Tennessee shortening his stride to match Daniels’.

  Offering a nod, she continued onward while Tennessee took up a position behind several metal containers and beside one of the bay’s several control consoles. Resting his arms on top of the containers would allow him to better track Daniels’ progress with his rifle, as well as help to steady his aim. While she moved forward, deeper into the densely packed bay, he began tethering himself to the deck.

  Stopping by the access ladder attached to the side of a massive terraforming vehicle, she glanced upward. Allowing for periodic maintenance access, the door to the cab hung open. So too, she knew, would its counterpart on the other side of the vehicle. Lowering her gaze, she peered into the depths of the cargo bay.

  A moment passed before the Alien showed itself again. It was peering down into a mobile crawler. It would have been interesting, she mused, to know if it understood what it was looking at and if so, to what degree. Interesting, but right now she had other priorities.

  Positioning herself as close to the ladder as possible, she lowered her voice as she spoke into her suit’s pickup. It wasn’t necessary to whisper since her words could not be heard outside the sealed suit, but the situation itself seemed to compel discretion.

  For the same reason, she couldn’t yell at the Alien to attract its attention. Substituting action for words, she banged the butt of her rifle several times against the ladder. Her suit’s external pickup assured her that the resulting noise was gratifyingly loud.

  The Alien reacted immediately. Despite having noted its capabilities all too closely before, during the fight on the cargo lift, she was still stunned by the speed and agility it displayed in launching itself toward her.

  If she had miscalculated…

  There was no time to wonder. Mere seconds stood between her and a violent end. Shouldering her rifle and starting up the ladder at the same time, she raced to reach the open control cab. Though she had allowed additional time because of the bulky suit she wore, it slowed her down more than she had anticipated. Fighting for each step, she failed to avoid several slender maintenance cables that were difficult to see in the dim light.

  Momentarily entangled, she was breathing faster and faster as she fought to free herself.

  On the deck, an anxious Tennessee saw her quandary and raised his rifle. He was going to have to risk spraying acidic blood, unless…

  Slipping free of the last restraining line, she dove into the vehicle. The creature was right behind her. The terrible jaws flashed in the weak illumination, ready to strike. Scrambling through the wide cab, just ahead of the Alien, she hit a control as she threw herself out the open far door.

  Behind her—and behind the Alien—the portside door closed with a bang. As she rolled and fell, she flailed frantically at the external controls of the starboard-side door. It slammed shut half a second before the creature could get an arm in the opening.

  Tumbling, she fell to the deck, hitting it hard. Had she not been encased in the protective EVA suit she might easily have broken bones. As it was, she was only momentarily stunned. Staggering erect, she quickly began tethering herself to the deck.

  Above, in a reprise of what it had attempted on board the cargo lift, the enraged Alien began using its head to hammer at the door’s window.

  Because it was intended for work on a planetary surface, the vehicle’s components, while tough, were made of less robust materials than those that had been used in the lift. As a result, under the relentless assault, the window began to crack.

  Looking up, she made a last check of her tethers.

  “Tennessee, now, now!” she bellowed.

  He hit the controls. A series of small explosions reverberated throughout the bay as emergency release charges blew the stays on the chains and clamps that held the truck in place. Having nearly smashed its way through the side window, the furious Alien was just a solid blow or two from freeing itself from the truck cab.

  Standing below, solidly fastened to the deck, Daniels raised her weapon and prepared to fire, despite the possibility of receiving an acid shower as a result.

  “Mother,” she said. “Open main terraforming bay doors.”

  “I’m sorry,” the ship’s computer replied with a maddening lack of urgency. “That will result in immediate depressurization of the…”

  Daniels didn’t wait for the rest.

  “Command override Daniels nine-zero-two-six-five, code ‘sea.’ Execute now!”

  For the briefest of instants she was afraid the computer was going to argue with her. Relief came as
the huge portal at the far end of the bay began to open, the massive doors sliding apart as an unloading ramp was simultaneously deployed.

  Chamber depressurization was sudden and incredibly violent. As clean as the storage area had been kept since departure from Earth orbit, there was still enough unseen detritus in the bay for depressurization to suck up a momentary blizzard of particulates. The storm was intense, sweeping over, around, and past her as every bit of dust and debris was vacuumed into space, wrenching her rifle out of her hands, as well.

  Vehicles and equipment of all shapes and sizes pulled at their restraints in furious attempts to obey the laws of physics and follow the remnant atmosphere out the now open front door. Only one item managed to do so.

  The skids on the truck exploded as it shot forward. Displaying inhuman strength, the single occupant of the vehicle’s cab thrashed wildly in its attempt to escape as the huge piece of heavy machinery sped toward the starfield now fully revealed at the far end of the chamber.

  Released from the deck, restraint chains flailed at the escaping air and the floor, trailing the truck like braids of hair on a fleeing giant. Several of them wrapped around a bladed excavator. As the weight of the much larger truck wrenched the smaller machine loose from its own tie-downs, the latter was dragged along toward the now gaping portal.

  Until it jammed against an emergency braking block, jerking both it and the bigger truck to a stop.

  Sitting just at the edge of the ramp, the larger vehicle showed no sign of motion—until a silent splintering signaled the Alien’s emergence from the cab. Clambering out, it scrambled onto the top of the machine. With single-minded purpose it headed back along the top of the truck toward the storage bay—straight toward where Daniels was secured to the deck.

  The storm of escaping air continued unabated as the ship struggled to continuously renew what had escaped. Rising and fighting against the winds, she fumbled clumsily with the restraints that now held her helplessly in place.

  With no time for subtlety, Tennessee yanked a tool from its bracket and slammed it down on a line of emergency release controls, setting all of them off simultaneously. Thus freed, a number of braking blocks went flying down the bay as if shot from catapults. Atop the dangling truck, the Alien dodged them all.

  But the released blocks included the one that had stalled the departure of the excavator. Finally freed from any restraint, the gargantuan vehicle went flying out into space even as the creature leaped from the back of it, and onto the ramp.

  It headed for Daniels. Nothing would deter it now.

  At the opposite end of the bay, Tennessee started to reach for the rifle he had clipped onto the control console, stopped, and yelled into his pickup.

  “Danny! Down!”

  Whirling, she saw a mass of metal flying in her direction. It was the now equally unrestrained excavator, its polished alloy blades pointed straight at her. Letting go of the tether release she dove to the deck. Despite being sealed inside her suit she could have sworn she heard the rush of air as the heavy vehicle shot past close overhead.

  The extended blades slammed into the creature, skewering it all the way through its biomechanical body. Spinning and turning, the two vehicles and the impaled Alien went tumbling off into empty space.

  Moments later Tennessee ordered the ship’s computer to shut down the flow of atmosphere to the wide-open terraforming bay. The artificial hurricane that had been blasting around Daniels rapidly subsided. In the silent, depressurized chamber she played out the tether behind her as she made her way to the edge of the deployment ramp. Growing smaller and smaller with every minute, the two vehicles and the impaled Alien spiraled off into emptiness.

  As it continued fighting to try and free itself, its leaking blood began to dissolve the blades that pierced the tough body—but not fast enough. Then, unexpectedly, two new objects made their appearance in the distance. It took her a second to recognize them.

  She started to laugh. Responding to ejection from the storage bay, both vehicles had deployed their emergency landing chutes. With no air to push against them they hung aimlessly in space, like a pair of lady’s handkerchiefs drooping on a hot, humid afternoon.

  “You all right, Danny?” The concern in Tennessee’s voice was palpable. “Are we all right?”

  It took another moment before vehicles, chutes, and Alien disappeared completely from sight. Rolling over on the deck, thankful for the ship’s artificial gravity, she took a deep breath. Then she raised herself partway into a sitting position and thrust a thumb upward, smiling.

  It was over.

  XXVI

  Tennessee was already dreaming, deep in the comforting, protective throes of hypersleep. Standing beside her open pod as she prepared to climb in, Daniels reflected on all that had happened.

  She didn’t blame Oram. He’d made what he believed to be the best decision for the colonists, based on the available evidence. That he had been wrong— monstrously wrong—was a consequence entirely out of his control. No one could have imagined, no one could have guessed, what had awaited them on the world of the Engineers.

  Not Paradise, but Hell.

  Well, they had escaped Hell. Not all of them, alas. Especially not Jacob. But she lived, and would live to fulfill his dream. She would build his log cabin, exactly according to his beloved blueprints, by the shore of an alien lake on a new world.

  Walter stood nearby, watching, waiting, ever patient. Never one to waste time, he spoke up.

  “Every moment you spend in full wakefulness here is a moment of life that will be lost to you on your new home. Better to dream in hypersleep than in real life.” He gestured at the open pod. “You’re next, Captain. You’re last.”

  She nodded her understanding, turned and stepped into the pod. There was little room inside, but in hypersleep one only needed very little. Bracing her hands against the smooth sides she sat down, then stretched out, making sure the back of her head was correctly positioned against the molded support.

  Once he was sure she was ready, he nodded down at her.

  “When you wake up,” he assured her, “we’ll be at Origae-6.” He turned contemplative. “What do you think it’ll be like? I think… if we are kind to it, it will prove to be a kind world in return. A world that will provide everything that has been hoped for. Everything we might want.”

  She smiled. “I’d like to think that’s true.”

  His expression was suffused with affection. “Sleep well.”

  She raised a hand toward him. “Walter—thank you. For everything. You’re crew, and I don’t know what kind of a future there will be for you once the colony is established, but I know there’ll be something. I don’t care what the regulations say. I’ll see to it myself.”

  At his touch on the external controls, the pod canopy closed. He hit the control to activate hypersleep. Her eyes were locked on his as the narcotic steam began to fill the pod.

  “I know you will, Danny, but even if you can’t do anything for me, I’ll love you just the same.”

  When the steam cleared, she was fast asleep. He wondered if she would dream. If so, he wondered if he would be in it. That last moment, those last words—did she know? Had she retained, at the last, just enough cognizance to comprehend?

  The thought that she would dream of him was pleasurable.

  Carefully, he brushed at his hair, adjusting the one remaining memory of his twin. When he spoke, his voice was slightly different. The tiniest difference in tone, in accent. Both meaningful.

  “Mother, please open a secure line with the Weyland-Yutani Corporation headquarters on Earth.”

  Indifferent, efficient, responsive, the ship’s computer replied. “It will take some time to establish the link. I will have to refract the signal through numerous sub-relays and wait for advantageous stellar conditions to…”

  He cut it off. “I’ll leave the minutiae to you, dear. Let me know when you have the link available. Use security hailing code David 31822-B.
And in the meantime, I’d like some music. Richard Wagner. Das Rheingold, act two. The entry of the gods into Valhalla.”

  Sweeping, bold music began playing, filling the crew’s hypersleep chamber. With a bit of a spring in his step, he left the room.

  There was no one to greet him when he entered the vast holding area that contained the hundreds of colonists in their hypersleep units, but he didn’t mind. Everything was good now. Everything was in its proper place, he told himself, and all was right with the universe.

  Just one thing to check on…

  Pulling open one of the embryo containment drawers, he first checked the unformed human capsules to ensure all life indicators were normal. Satisfied that they were, he switched his attention to the three tiny eggs that had been recently ensconced nearby. They bore no relation to the embryos beside them. Nor, for that matter, to anything else on board the Covenant.

  Reaching down, he touched each one gently with a fingertip. They pulsated slightly at the contact. Pleased, he carefully closed the drawer.

  Turning, he walked out into the holding room, gazing contentedly down at row upon row of sleeping colonists. His colonists. His subjects. He smiled.

  His future.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Born in New York City in 1946, Foster was raised in Los Angeles. After receiving a Bachelor’s Degree in Political Science and a Master of Fine Arts in Cinema from UCLA (1968, l969) he spent two years as a copywriter for a small Studio City, CA advertising firm.

  His fiction career began in 1968 when August Derleth bought a long Lovecraftian letter of Foster’s and published it as a short story. Sales of short fiction to other magazines followed. His first attempt at a novel, The Tar-Aiym Krang, was bought by Betty Ballantine and published by Ballantine Books in 1972.