Alien: Covenant - Origins - The Official Movie Prequel

XXV

Bevridge was more than a little relieved to hear from the sergeant. Leaving his team to complete a search of the farm buildings, he had his driver track the signal from Lopé’s comm unit. Going off-road, they soon arrived at where the sergeant’s vehicle was parked. Its driver pointed into the dense stand of old trees directly ahead.

While Rosenthal secured the prophet Duncan Fields, Lopé introduced Bevridge to the unexpected backup from Tokyo. As the two men exchanged professional courtesies, the amused sergeant noted that Bevridge was trying hard to appear thankful for Ngata’s intervention, when in reality he was more than a little upset at having his authority undercut.

Not that it would matter, he knew, given the results of the operation. The Earthsavers’ organization had been effectively smashed. Its prophet and supervising council had been taken into custody. Though there were probably an unknown number of lower-level operatives still out there, with no one remaining to give them orders or direction, they were likely to fade into obscurity.

A truck full of armed security personnel arrived to pick up the two new prisoners. Part of Lopé wished he could be present to see the faces of the other Earthsavers when their prophet rejoined them. Their diversion had failed to draw attention away from the escape attempt. They had been outnumbered and outgunned, and their “mission” was at an end.

Bevridge spoke to someone on his comm unit, probably informing his superiors that the operation had achieved its goals and without a single fatality. Rosenthal escorted the now-bound prophet over to the newly arrived truck. That left the Japanese operative standing by himself.

Lopé sauntered over. Seeing the sergeant approaching, Ngata bowed slightly. When he straightened, he was smiling.

“My thanks to you and your partner, Sergeant. While I would have managed something on my own, your arrival was both timely and welcome.”

Nodding, Lopé offered a crisp reply. “Maybe. Or you would’ve lost control of your prisoner, and been drilled by a fanatic.”

Ngata’s smile tightened but did not disappear.

“Those were also possibilities.”

“You didn’t get here in a late-model dark blue four-seater, by any chance? With dark bronze trim?”

Ngata looked surprised. “How did you know that?”

Lopé grunted. “I’ve got an eye for cars. One thing has me wondering, though.” Lopé gestured westward, in the direction taken by the long-vanished mob of real horses. “You were wandering around out here, away from the action, doing your own reconnaissance. Suddenly a herd of horses comes stampeding toward you and jumps the rock wall surrounding the property. Instead of taking shelter behind a tree and getting out of their way, you pick out the two fakes, the two mesyns, out of a herd of maybe two dozen, and you do it in a matter of seconds.” He stared intently at the youthful operative. “How’d you know to do that?” One hand gestured into the woods. “How did you know to single those two out? Not to mention to bring one down and open it up?”

Ngata’s grin grew wider. “Not being involved in the actual assault gave me ample time to monitor communications. Theirs, as well as yours.”

The sergeant was not pleased. “So you knew when these two were making a break for it…” Ngata nodded once. “But you didn’t think to inform anybody else.” He frowned darkly as he awaited the answer.

“There was no time.” The younger man just shrugged. “I had to get here to intercept them, in order to ensure they did not escape.”

“In your judgment.” Lopé’s stare was unblinking.

“In my judgment, yes.”

“What if they’d escaped anyway, or killed you in the process?”

“Then I would have been guilty of poor decision-making,” Ngata replied calmly. “At first I did exactly what you describe, Sergeant. Seeing the herd coming toward me, I took shelter behind a tree to watch them pass. As they drew near I quickly noticed that two of them running side-by-side were moving with a gait that was not normal. One that no normal horse would employ. It was not just unusual—it was dynamically and biologically impossible.” He shrugged. “Had I been wrong and shot down a real horse, I would have felt terrible. I love horses.”

Lopé nodded sagely. “So that’s what tipped you off. An unnatural gait.” When Ngata nodded affirmatively, the sergeant added, “I wouldn’t expect such a love of horses from a solo Weyland-Yutani security operative.”

Ngata explained. “In my childhood, I was exposed to the exploits of a national hero, Hiroshi Hoketsu. He was twice the oldest person to compete in the old international Olympics, and the oldest competitor ever for Japan.”

A look of understanding came over Lopé’s face. “Let me guess. Equestrian competition.”

Ngata nodded. “I wanted to be like him, but horses are expensive to maintain. More so than guns. I have maintained an affection for both, and follow developments in both.” Turning, he gestured into the woods. “I knew immediately that two of the creatures running could not be actual horses. So I took a gamble, and shot one.”

“Good call. Good shot,” Lopé grunted. “I love horses, too. Preferably broiled and medium-rare.” At the look that came over Ngata’s face, the sergeant hastened to reassure him. “A joke. Just a joke. Come on. I’ll buy you dinner when we get back to the city and you can tell me everything about the briefing you received before you arrived here.”

“I cannot tell you everything.” They started toward the car that had brought Lopé and Rosenthal. “Company policy.”

The sergeant pursed his lips. “I’ll settle for what you can tell me. It won’t matter anyway. In a little while I’ll be snug in deepsleep and unable to tell anyone anything. Besides,” he added cheerfully, “I know a great Uzbek restaurant that services horse steak and… just a joke, my friend, just a joke.”

Except this time, it wasn’t.

The security convoy reconvened back on the road leading to the farm complex. Lopé’s wish was granted as he was present when the captured prophet and his escort were loaded into the same truck as the quartet of previously detained colleagues. Instead of cries of anguish and distress, however, there were only brief nods of recognition. The captives’ expressions hardly changed.

It made no sense, and that bothered him.

With the capture of the prophet and the council, their entire organization had been broken. Yet no one seemed to care. This didn’t fit with the behavior of fanatics. Were they that confident of their lawyers? Did they expect to be released on their own recognizance? If so, he told himself, they greatly underestimated the influence of Weyland-Yutani, and the ability of Hideo Yutani to carry a grudge.

Or was he overlooking something?

I’m worrying too much, he told himself. We’ve more than done our part, helped take down the enemy that’s been bedeviling us. It was time to relax a little, enjoy the last sights and sounds and smells of Earth, before embarking on the final shuttle flight back up to the Covenant. Goodbye to Mother Earth and hello to Mother, the ship’s pervasive AI.

No surprises lurking there, at least.

Even so, as Bevridge was shaking his hand and going on and on about the success of the operation, the sergeant couldn’t escape a nagging unease at the sight of the preternatural calm displayed by the departing captives.

It did not bother Hideo Yutani that a typhoon was predicted to hit the islands. As far as he was concerned, the real storm, the important storm, was over.

Ngata had contacted him with the good news. The Earthsavers—the organization that had violently attempted to halt the scheduled departure of the Covenant—had been shattered, its so-called “prophet” captured and its center overrun. Once Weyland-Yutani specialists had a chance to run through the organization’s records and files, the rest of its acolytes could be identified and rounded up.

The man deserved a promotion… except that agents like Ngata did not get promoted. There was no level, no company specification, to which they could be promoted. They were simply valued, and moved around as necessary.

One more piece on the chessboard, he told himself as he stared out the window of the tower residence. Employed in service to the company. In this case, in service of getting the colonization mission under way. Yutani himself would not live to confirm the ship’s arrival at Origae-6, of course. That did not matter.

What mattered was that the last obstacle had been removed, and mankind’s destiny could proceed. Knowing that all was well, he called for a drink and settled down to celebrate… alone, as was his wont.