Alien: Covenant - The Official Movie Novelization

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While less than inviting, the weather was nothing if not consistent. Afternoon looked the same as morning—overcast, gray, with occasional light mist and fog. Local fauna continued to be conspicuous by its absence.

Karine continued gathering, packaging, and labeling her specimens. Ledward continued…

She saw him standing and swaying. His gaze was unfocused, his balance decidedly questionable. Uncharacteristically, he failed to respond when she called to him.

Setting aside her work, she walked quickly over to him.

“Ledward, you don’t look… right.” She moved closer. “Stay there.”

The hasty medical check she performed was done without instruments, but it was enough to tell her he was ill. His eyes had gone colorless, and the rest of him didn’t look much better. Waxen skin, bright lips—if she didn’t know better, she would have said he had gone from healthy to anemic in the space of a few minutes. The speed at which the symptoms had overtaken him was shocking.

Also, she knew that individuals prone to anemia and other, often hereditary conditions were not accepted for colonization—much less into ship security.

He staggered and she took a step back. His breathing was hoarse and uneven. “I have to…” He stopped, started anew, as if the act of forming simple words was becoming difficult. “I have to sit. I’m sorry… I’m really sorry…”

Nearly collapsing, he sat down hard, indifferent to where he landed. He was scared and making no effort to hide it. In the dark as to what was happening to him and unable to hazard a diagnosis without suitable equipment, Karine could only stand nearby and watch.

“I can’t… breathe.” The private thumped his chest. “Can’t breathe…”

A tiny droplet of blood appeared, leaking from one tear duct. Espying it, Karine struggled to hide her alarm. That kind of reaction on her part was the last thing he needed. Without knowing what was wrong with him she couldn’t begin to prescribe a possible remedy.

She—they—needed help, and fast.

“You sit,” she ordered him. “Get your breath. Try breathing slowly—don’t panic. As soon as you get your wind and feel up to it, we’re going back to the lander. I’ll pack up. The specimens can stay here.” She indicated the silent beauty of their surroundings. “There’s nothing here to bother them, and I can come back for them later.” He nodded understanding and she moved away, quietly addressing her suit comm as she did so.

“Captain Oram, come in. We have—” She stopped, considered the effect a full description of Ledward’s condition might have on the others, and resumed speaking with a more moderated explanation. “We’re going back to the lander. Repeat. Private Ledward and I are returning to the lander. There’s something wrong with him.” Switching quickly to a suit-to-suit channel, she contacted the landing craft.

“Faris,” she said, “Ledward and I are on our way back. Prep the medbay.”

Standing in shallow water that now threatened to overtop the upper rim of her boots, Faris frowned as she digested the communication.

“Will do, Karine,” she responded. “What’s going on?”

“Just do it!” the scientist said. Anxiety was plain in her voice, though it didn’t sound like panic.

Straightening from where she had been working under the bend of the hull, the pilot stared toward the distant, forest-draped mountainside. It had begun to drizzle, a fact which did nothing to improve her mood, but it was lost in her concern for the obvious worry in the other woman’s voice.

Though Karine was reluctant to make physical contact with the increasingly incapacitated Ledward, she had no choice. Without her assistance he would not have been able to stand. Given the visibly deteriorating state of his eyes, she wondered how he could even see where he was going, yet he managed to stumble around and step over obstacles in their path. Time enough later to find out how he was managing it, she told herself.

Treat the condition first, then investigate it.

He coughed, hard. Half-expecting to see blood, she was surprised when there wasn’t any. No condition sprang to mind that corresponded with whatever was wrong with him. Even as she helped him along, her mind raced as she tried to determine the cause of his distress.

Daniels and Walter were the last to emerge from the wreck. As soon as they rejoined the others, each of them performed a quick check of his or her neighbor’s gear. Finding everybody’s equipment in working order, and no member of the team any the worse for their exploration of the relic’s interior, Oram ordered them downhill and back the way they had come.

Between the cool, damp air and the fact that they were now traveling downslope, they made far better time than they had in the course of the ascent.

Daniels moved up alongside the captain.

“What is it? What’s going on?”

He shook his head, annoyed and worried at the same time. “Something with Ledward. I don’t know. Karine indicated that he’s not doing well.”

She frowned. “He shouldn’t be sick. He wasn’t when we left the Covenant. Couldn’t be. No diseases to catch on board.” She gestured at their surroundings. “Air reads clear of pathogens. Walter was positive. Bacteria and germ-wise, this atmosphere is as sterile as it looks.”

“Maybe something Ledward was already carrying got shifted around during our descent. That drop was enough to upset anybody’s insides. We’ll know soon enough.” He paused a moment. “Karine would never interrupt her research unless it was something serious.”

They hadn’t covered much distance when Hallet stumbled. At his side immediately, Lopé eyed his partner with concern. The other man was drenched with sweat.

“Tom…?”

Hallet offered him a wan smile. “Sorry, sorry. Need some air is all.” He grimaced. “Feeling a bit queasy.”

Without being asked, Lopé took the other man’s carbine and slung it over his free shoulder. As they hurried to catch up to the others it was clear that despite his denials, Hallet wasn’t well.

As they reached and entered the wheat field, it became clear to an increasingly alarmed Karine that Ledward’s struggle to stay upright was failing rapidly. The private could barely walk now, let alone run. Ignoring his feeble objections, she took his pack, slipped one of his arms across her back, and half carried, half urged him forward.

Despite the continuing weak connection with the Covenant, Faris felt it incumbent on her to inform those on board the ship of what was happening, even as she finished readying the lander’s medbay to receive an apparently ill patient. She was back on the surface-to-orbit channel as soon as she re-entered the craft’s bridge.

“Covenant, this is Faris. Karine is returning to the lander early. Private Ledward is experiencing—some kind of episode. No idea what. Karine didn’t give any details.”

To her relief, Tennessee responded immediately, though it took several tries for his reply to be understood.

“What kind… of ‘episode’?”

“No idea,” Faris told him. “She just said there’s something wrong with him, and to get the medbay ready. That’s what I’m doing.”

Her husband’s tone turned anxious. “Are we talking about quarantine protocols?”

“Repeat, I don’t know anything more. Second contact from Karine indicated that Ledward was bleeding. Didn’t say from where, didn’t say how much. No indication as to cause. Just to prepare the medbay.”

His voice steadied but the transmission did not as he sought to calm her.

“Honey, can you repeat? You’re breaking up.”

Faris tried anew. “Tennessee, I’m just… not sure what’s going on, but Karine sounded scared. I’ve heard her sound worried, concerned, but never scared. Something’s going…” She broke off as readouts—as well as the lack of response—indicated yet another break in communications.

She tried adjusting instrumentation. No luck.

Fucking storm, she cursed to herself.

“Do you read me? Covenant? Covenant?”

She gave up trying as a glance through the foreport showed Karine and Ledward staggering toward the lander. Mist made it difficult to resolve details, but she could see that Karine was carrying the private’s pack, and helping to support him, as well. There was something wrong with him, all right. Even at a distance she didn’t have to be a medical specialist to see that he was sick.

But—how sick? And from what?

With her free arm, Karine was beckoning urgently. The gesture was unnecessary. Faris was already on her way, heading for the airlock after first switching on the lander’s beacon lights.

By that time an exhausted Karine was all but carrying Ledward. His legs scarcely functioned, and he was a dead weight against her. He stumbled along face-downward, moaning, no longer able to speak. They were close to the lander, its forward lights slicing through the mist toward them, when he finally went down.

She could help him, but she couldn’t drag him. Anyway, the fact that the lander’s lights had come on indicated that Faris had seen them coming and was probably on her way. It was going to take their combined efforts, Karine knew, to wrestle the private’s limp form onto the ship.

Maybe she could get him to help stagger the last few meters. Dumping his pack and weapon, she leaned over to try and get him back on his feet. He looked up at her, his eyes shockingly blank—and promptly vomited all over her.

There was some partially digested food in the spew, but most of it consisted of blood and bile. She stumbled backward, almost falling, too shocked even to wipe at her face.

Then Faris was calling to her. Pulling on surgical gloves as she jogged toward her colleagues, the pilot finished by slipping on a face mask. Without having to be told, she grabbed the private’s pack and weapon.

At the same time, and despite her disgust and dismay, Karine made a supreme effort to get Ledward back on his feet. Choking and gasping, he followed her lead and managed to stagger upright. Maybe, she thought hopefully, he had forcefully expelled whatever had been making him so sick.

“Let’s get him to the medbay.” Faris gave both the private’s pack and weapon a quick examination. “Touch nothing on your way through. Follow me.”

Though irritated at the other woman’s sudden and uncharacteristically officious attitude, Karine said nothing. She could bring it up another time. Right now she was too tired to do more than comply. Besides, getting the barely conscious private into medbay and pumping him full of medication took precedence over any violations of protocol, perceived or otherwise.

Perhaps it was the proximity to the lander and the help it promised. Whatever the impetus, Ledward found a reserve of energy. With Karine’s ongoing assistance, they were able to make it up the ramp and into the crew bay. One after the other and heedless of their contents, backpacks were tossed indifferently into a corner.

“Just try to keep him moving, come on!” Faris tore her gaze away from Ledward’s agonized, blank-eyed face. As the scientist stumbled, she and the private bumped into a bay wall. “Karine, don’t touch anything!”

“For fuck’s sake,” the other woman shot back, “I’m trying, all right? The son-of-a-bitch is no lightweight, and he’s gone all limp on me again!”

By the time they reached the lander’s medbay, Karine was reduced to dragging him again. At the limits of her strength, she was relieved when the other woman came over to help steady the private. Activated by Faris moments earlier, the room’s bright white lights rendered Ledward’s appearance even more ghastly than it had been outside.

“Can you stand by yourself?” Faris asked him. When he didn’t reply, she indicated via gestures what she wanted. Karine gladly moved aside. The private remained upright in front of the scientist, but barely.

“Thatta boy. Just stay like that for another couple of minutes, okay? We’ll get you fixed up.” Moving over to the med table, she started releasing straps and tie-downs, then quickly returned. “Let’s get these wet clothes off, darlin’. Wouldn’t want you to catch cold, in addition to whatever you’ve managed to catch already.”

She got his cap and heavily laden vest off first, then knelt to work on his boots. Meanwhile Karine started unsealing his gray expedition suit. In moments they had him down to his underwear. Noticing that the top half of the other woman’s suit was sticky with blood, puke, and a mix of unidentifiable goo, Faris barked at her.

“For god’s sake, Karine, put some gloves on!”

Continuing to undress the private, she all but growled at the pilot. “Little late for that. He heaved up all the fuck over me!”

Perspiring massively but finally stripped, Ledward stood silently, staring into the distance and ignoring his anxious crewmates. Though he remained upright and breathing, he had the look of the dead on him. That’s nonsense, Faris told herself. The dead don’t shiver. And the private was definitely trembling.

Together, the two women alternately led and wrestled him onto the med table. The surrounding and overhead lights instantly brightened. As Faris aligned his legs, Karine scrambled through the med cabinets. In her panic she spilled supplies, tubing, and equipment, without even being sure what she was searching for. She only knew that they had to get something into Ledward, and fast.

“Got to get him stabilized,” she panted. “Where’s the fucking IV kit?”

“Karine!” Turning away from the now prone but still trembling private, Faris yelled in exasperation at her colleague. “Stop touching everything! I’ll do that!” His shivering appeared to be abating of its own accord. Working fast, she peeled off his blood-soaked undershirt, leaving him lying on the table clad only in his undershorts.

“Here, come help me secure him.”

“Why?” Karine objected. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“Just do it!” Faris prepared to fasten the first strap around the sluggish private’s waist. Just because he was calm and quiet now didn’t mean that in—

He twitched once. Then he heaved. And then he bucked, and continued bucking, the series of convulsions incredibly violent and completely uncontrolled as his body, twisting and writhing, slammed again and again into the med table. The loud banging of unprotected flesh and bone against metal echoed through the room. Stunned at the inexplicable physiological fury on display, both scientist and pilot instinctively backed away.

Blood began to leak from his pores. As the two women looked on in horror, a fine mist of blood sprayed in a straight line right down the center of his back, as if shot from a hose. The droplets arced into the air before descending to splatter like red rain on the spotless deck.

“Jesus…” Karine recoiled as far as she was able.

“Stay with him!” Faris headed for the corridor portal. “Try to keep him quiet if the convulsions stop. I’ll contact the captain.”

Exiting the medbay, her expression grim, she waited for the door to shut behind her, then turned and punched the adjacent keypad. The panel flashed silently.

Pulling off the protective face mask, she raced down the corridor and spoke, with as much control as she could muster, toward the nearest omni-pickup.

“Captain Oram. We need you all here. How long?”

As the rest of the team left the forest behind and entered the field of gently waving wheat, a frowning Oram replied.

“Hold on. We’re close. Faris, what the hell is—?”

“I need you back here now. Right now! All of you, everybody! We need to return to the Covenant. Now!” With each word, rising panic became more evident in her voice.

On the Covenant’s bridge, Tennessee struggled to sieve understanding from his wife’s garbled suit-to-suit communications. It was beyond frustrating to hear a sentence start out clearly, only for it to dissolve into static mush halfway through.

“Faris, we can barely make you out. What’s happening? What’s going on down there?” Even through the ongoing electromagnetic distortion, he could discern the alarm in her voice.

“Going on?” The reply crackled and faded, strengthened and screeched at the edge of comprehensibility. “I don’t have any fucking idea what’s going on—with Ledward. Karine showed up pretty much carrying him. We managed to get him into the medbay. Something happened out there—she hasn’t told me anything yet. He looks like a dead man breathing, he’s really sick, and then he started bleeding all over, right from his skin, no visible wounds, and his back… his back…”

“Baby, calm down.” Feeling anything but calm himself, Tennessee fought to reassure her. “Just calm down. Tell me what happened. From the beginning.”

Just barely under control, Faris yelled back, “Don’t tell me to calm the fuck down! You didn’t see… what I just saw. And I have no goddamn idea what he’s got. His back blew out and sprayed blood and crap all over the place, and I don’t know if Karine’s got the same thing, or if I’ve got it, or if…”

“You’re breaking up, Faris.” Panic began to grip him. “Can you read me?” He leaned toward the console pickup, as if the few additional centimeters might somehow bring him closer to his wife, bring him nearer to the storm-shrouded surface below.

“Please,” his wife said, her call barely intelligible, “help us…”

Signal went to zero, and no amount of cursing or pleading could bring it back.