Alien: Covenant - The Official Movie Novelization

VIII

Daniels moved up so that she was walking alongside Walter. After climbing a lightly vegetated slope, the expedition team found themselves pushing through a flat field of some kind of tall grass. Pale gold instead of green, the stalks swayed in perfect unison with the prevailing gentle breeze. Despite the increasingly uncomfortable ongoing silence she was glad that the grass, at least, did not make any noise.

Looking ahead, she saw that two of the lead security team had stopped. In complete violation of proper expedition procedure, Sergeant Lopé was crushing the top of one of the golden stalks between his fingers. Before she could object, he rubbed the residue between his palms, brought it close to his face, and blew part of it away. Picking up the loose chaff, the breeze carried it off toward the nearby mountains.

To Daniels’ astonishment, Lopé then brought what remained in his palm up to his tongue, and tasted it. She held her breath. Even Walter looked up from his multiunit and watched the sergeant closely.

Taking note of her anxious expression, Lopé smiled reassuringly and gestured at the field in which they stood.

“This is wheat,” he said. “Plain, ordinary, bland, bread-making wheat. I’m from what they used to call Iowa. Believe me, I know wheat.” He took a second taste, turned thoughtful. “This is old, a primitive variety, but definitely cultivated. Too much taste to be an accidental offshoot. Or wild.”

“You’re certain?” she asked him.

He flicked what remained off his fingertip. “I don’t know much about parallel evolution, but I’d have to say that finding something here that tastes almost exactly like stuff I tasted as a boy would be one hell of a coincidence.” He eyed the synthetic. “What do you think, Walter? What are the odds of finding terrestrial vegetation this far from Earth? Never mind cultivated, edible vegetation.”

Walter’s response was concise. “Highly unlikely.”

The sergeant let out a derisive snort. “One hundred percent unlikely, I’d say.”

“So,” Daniels opined aloud, “assuming then that it didn’t get here on its own… who planted it?”

No one had an answer. No one had so much as a suggestion. In the absence of either, the team continued on through the wheat field, heading up-slope for the dense tree line in the distance. All around them the sheaves shuddered in the breeze, indifferent to the presence of newcomers, unable to reveal the secrets of their improbable presence.

“Nice place for a log cabin.” Walter glanced behind them, checking on how far they had come from the lander. “Trees to cut. Even a lake.”

Daniels appreciated the sentiment. Or more likely, she corrected herself, the cool, calculated attempt to ease the tension she was feeling. Either way, she couldn’t help but respond.

“Yes, Jacob would have loved this.”

Oram came over to join them. Now that they had set down safely and without incident, the captain was feeling confident, even boisterous. The latter was unlike him, but with the exception of the storm in the upper atmosphere, everything they had encountered thus far had exceeded his expectations.

“What do you think, Daniels?” he asked. “Looks like a perfect landing site.” Gesturing as they walked, he enthusiastically sited the new settlement. “Put the housing modules over there, civic modules across the way. Natural food source already in place—assuming Lopé’s assessment is confirmed. Access to plenty of fresh water, too. No wells necessary.”

“We don’t know how deep the lake is,” she mumbled. “Surface might be deceptive, volume might be small.”

“Easy enough to take the necessary measurements.” He shook his head, grinning and undeterred. “Act the pessimist if it suits you.” He took a deep breath. “You could bottle this air and sell it back on Earth. Trees, stone for building, probably the usual rocky world assortment of useful minerals and metals.” He tried to catch her eye. “And if this lake turns out to be shallow, there are dozens more. Just add water, and you’ve got an instant colony!”

She stayed non-committal. “I admit it shows promise. We’ll see.”

He chuckled, amused at her recalcitrance. “Oh, ye of little faith!” Flashing another uncharacteristically broad smile, he lengthened his stride to catch up to Lopé and Hallet, all but skipping as he accelerated. Watching her husband, Karine pulled up alongside Daniels.

“I know, he’s insufferable, and it’s worse when he’s happy, right?” When Daniels was about to comment, the other woman hushed her. “Whatever you’re going to say, believe me, I already know it. I live with him, remember?” She gave a conspiratorial smile and hurried to catch up with her spouse.

The wheat field surrendered to an evergreen forest, which soon grew dense. Showing bulging, almost spherical root tops, the tall thick boles closed in around them, shutting out the gray sky, muting the surrounding colors. At the same time, the slope they were ascending grew steeper, the terrain more difficult. A few places necessitated hiking sideways to avoid having to scramble up a steep cut or thrust in the mountainside.

It prompted Daniels to remark yet again on the most notable aspect of their surroundings—one that had continued to trouble her ever since their arrival.

“You hear that?”

Striding along nearby, Oram gave a listen, then frowned.

“Hear what?”

“Nothing. Still nothing. No birds. No animals. Not even an insect. Nothing. In a forest this verdant and lush, you’d think you’d hear something, even if it was just dead leaves crunching underfoot. Even if whatever was making the noise was only trying to get away from us. But it’s just—empty. There’s nothing.”

Lopé wore a strange expression, as if he found Daniels’ insistent observation unnerving. It wasn’t unreasonable to think that an exposed lakeshore might appear to be devoid of life. At the appearance of unfamiliar intruders, local animals might elect to flee, go quiet, and hide out. In contrast, the same couldn’t be said for an area full of food, like the wheat field. Or a healthy forest like the one through which they were presently climbing.

Apparently healthy, Daniels corrected. The utter absence of any fauna suggested otherwise. While she watched, Lopé made sure his carbine was snug against his shoulder and that its magazine was firmly seated.

Coming up behind the expedition leaders, Private Ankor wondered aloud, “How can you have plants without animals?”

“Typically,” Walter told him, “you can’t.” He gestured back the way they had come. “Interestingly, with wheat you can. It’s self-pollinating. A possible explanation for why it seems to thrive here in the apparent absence of any insects, birds, or bats.”

An increasingly uncomfortable Daniels found herself looking up into the brooding trees. It made no sense that this world should be inhabited solely by plants—especially advanced plants like wheat and conifers. Then she identified part of what made her uneasy—she felt as if she was being watched. Glancing around, she wondered if the others felt the same. Judging from their expressions, she was pretty certain they did.

They encountered a stream, and that lightened her mood a little. There was nothing abnormal about it, and everything familiar. It came cascading down the mountainside, full of all the life and movement that was absent from the forest. The cheerful aqueous splash broke the intimidating stillness, while providing a homey echo of Earth.

Sounding in their headsets, the voice of a concerned Tennessee offered counterpoint to the song of the stream and to their individual musings.

“Expedition team. You reading us?” he said. Oram acknowledged, and Tennessee continued. “Mother tells us the ion storm is getting worse. Maybe you’re not feeling it on the ground, but we’re having a hell of a time keeping track of you from up here. What’s your status?”

Oram responded. “We’re currently almost halfway to the target site. Stand by to monitor our communications when we get there.”

In orbit far above, Tennessee made what sense he could out of the transmission from below. At the conclusion of the captain’s reply, both audio and the hovering holo terrain map dissolved in a mass of static. For the moment, at least, viable communication with the surface and the expedition team went dead.

“Dammit.” He moved to his console, determined to continue his ongoing battle with reluctant algorithms.

Outside the lander, Faris continued to work on the components that were visible inside the open hatches. What would have taken no time at all to fix within the sterile confines of the Covenant was proving to be a frustrating, time-consuming process when standing in ankle-deep water, having to lean down and in just to see the problem.

Legs, she reflected, were a poor substitute for a power lifter. There was also the need to keep the components inside the open hatches protected from the occasional wind-driven spray. Having already slipped twice on the water-polished rocks underfoot, she was cold and wet.

In spite of the difficulties she managed to monitor orbit-to-surface communications as she worked. When despite several repeated calls to the Covenant nothing was forthcoming save bursts of static, she switched to ground comm.

“Captain Oram, I think they lost your signal,” she reported. “But if it’s any consolation, I’m reading you fine, darlin’. You happy campers still doin’ all right?”

“Understood, darlin’,” Oram replied, joking right back at her. The captain certainly had loosened up since their arrival, Faris decided. “All quiet here,” he continued. “Thick forest looks like regular woods back home. The woods that remain in protected areas, anyway. Some other familiar sights, too. It’ll all be in the report, and you can ask any of the team members about the details when we get back. Keep your comm open, and keep trying to re-establish with the ship.”

“Aye aye.” Glancing downward, she noted that the water was now lapping over the toes of her boots. Though they were waterproof and insulated, she could still feel the cold through the lightweight synthetic material. “But just to let you know, the tide’s coming in. Not much. Just a few centimeters so far. I imagine the two moons must be lining up.”

“Understood. Stay dry. Oram out.”

Soon the water was sloshing across her boots and threatening to rise toward her ankles.

“Yeah, stay dry. Thanks, fucker.”

With the climb ahead appearing even steeper than the slope they had already ascended, and worn out from both the enervating drop in the lander and the hike thus far, Karine found a reason to wave the proverbial white flag as she spoke to her husband.

“Christopher, I’d like to stay here,” she announced. “It’s been a hell of a day and I’m tired of walking. I’d like to stop and do some science for a change.” She indicated their present surroundings. “Not only is the stream good company, it might be a source for smaller specimens of local life-forms. Especially since we’re not seeing any big ones. Might be our best chance to do a full ecology workup before dark. I can’t do that effectively while I’m walking. You can pick me up on the way back, okay?”

He considered her request in light of the surrounding forest. Certainly nothing threatening had manifested itself. Actually, he mused, nothing at all had manifested itself. It would certainly be edifying if she could find animal life of any kind, even if it was only at the microscopic level.

He beckoned to Lopé.

“Sergeant? My wife wants to stay here and do some field work.”

That was enough said, as far as the security chief was concerned. He motioned to Ledward. Unslinging his heavy F90 rifle, the private jogged over to join them.

“Looks like the lady wants to do some actual science, Ledward. Stay with her and cover her back.” He checked a wrist readout. “Assuming the preliminary topo charting was accurate, and depending on what we find at our destination, we should be able to meet back here in four hours. Keep your comm and your eyes open.”

Ledward nodded briskly, looking delighted at the opportunity to be the one chosen to take a break from the interminable climb. As the team resumed the hike, Oram passed by and gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“Behave yourself with my wife.”

Uncertain how to respond—whether to smile, frown, or attempt to say something clever—Ledward settled for simply nodding.

As they continued to ascend, the forest grew denser, the trees more imposing. Pine and fir gave way to sequoia, Daniels observed as they climbed. The huge trees were massive, and much too familiar. Size alone indicated their age, suggesting they had been growing here for quite some time. Samples would have to be taken and compared with the relevant genomic database on the Covenant, but some of the trees looked as familiar as, if not downright identical to counterparts she had seen on Earth.

And still the woods were silent, save for an occasional gust of wind that disturbed the thinner branches. When a cone fell from one tree, it had the effect of a firecracker going off. Everyone spun to look, before resuming the march. At that moment she would have given a month’s pay for the sight of an alien squirrel.

The continuing hush made their encounter with the first damaged trunk all the more startling. As she looked up at it, wondering what had caused the destruction, the image was accompanied in her mind by a definite sound.

The broken bole was accompanied by another, and then another, all well above their heads as the expedition maintained its advance. An entire avenue of huge trees, shattered and broken, formed a straight line through the forest. In addition to the downed trunks, a number of growths flanking them on both sides showed signs of having been seared by tremendous heat. Others located deeper in the forest were blistered with knots and burls that had evidently emerged to heal over similar scarring. The further they advanced, the lower became the cuts on the tree trunks.

Something massive had descended from above, coming in at a sharp angle of descent, and cut the swath through the forest.

“An object passed overhead here.” Lopé ran a hand up the side of a massive, seared stump as he studied the uneven cut. “Sliced the tops right off the trees, then cut deeper and deeper as it descended.”

“Must have been a ship.” As she walked, careful to maintain her footing, Daniels’ gaze took in one broken trunk after another.

Ankor frowned. “Why did it have to be a ship? Why not a meteor, or a chunk of asteroid?”

She shook her head. “If that was the case, we’d be walking through a crater. The ground here is level.” She gestured ahead. “Even at the sloping angle of the object’s descent, it would have made a damn big hole when it finally hit. And there wouldn’t be any old growth forest still standing here. It would all be flattened, with the rest of the trees blown down in directions away from the path we’re following now.”

“A ship.” Oram looked over at her. “Had to be huge.”

Without fanfare, Lopé slipped the safety off his rifle. The action was sufficient to tell his troops to do likewise. A gesture was enough to move them into better defensive positions. Of course, there was nothing to defend against, except intermittent breezes and the occasional falling branch, but the sergeant didn’t like to take chances, didn’t like to assume. It was a major reason why he was still alive.

Now that the mountainside had leveled out somewhat, a relief to all concerned, Oram and Daniels allowed themselves to relax a little. Lopé did not. As for Walter—Walter looked upon relaxation as one of many human attributes he could conceptualize but not share.

There had to be something out there. Daniels felt it as she once again scanned their surroundings. This world was too accommodating, too fecund—at least in the botanical sense—to be so utterly devoid of animal life of any kind. For a wild moment she thought the local fauna might all be invisible, but quickly cast such craziness aside. Even invisible creatures, she told herself with a nervous laugh, would make sounds.

Well behind the rest of the expedition, Karine was happily filling sample bags and tubes with examples of soil, water, and plant life. Still awaiting her attention, the geology sample bags lay open on the bank of the stream. Yet to encounter any living thing large enough to be visible to the naked eye, she told Ledward she was anxious to get the samples back to the Covenant, and a proper lab where they could be studied in depth.

As for Ledward, it took all of five minutes for him to become unutterably bored. Unlike the actively engaged Karine, he wasn’t in the least interested in studying trees, water, and dirt. There wasn’t even anything moving that would allow him to practice his aim. Running water and scudding clouds didn’t count as test targets.

At least the stream offered a soothing place to sit. A glance behind him showed the captain’s wife busy filling a small tube with soil. She was wholly oblivious to his presence, as if he had become part of the scenery. That was fine with him. He’d never found scientists’ small talk much of a draw.

She wouldn’t mind, then, if he stepped away and momentarily contaminated a minuscule bit of local atmosphere with a smoke stick. Lighting up, he found a suitable flat rock and took a seat. In the process he disturbed a small area of dark earth. It might have been coated with mold, which would very much have interested the woman he was safeguarding. She would have found the tiny ovoid that crunched under the heel of his boot even more intriguing. Especially the small cloud of motes it released.

Refusing to be swept away by the breeze, they swarmed upward until they were hovering in front of his face.

Irritated, he waved his hand at them, sweeping them back and forth. They still refused to disperse. Inhaling, he blew a smoke ring in their direction. The majority scattered, diffusing into the air.

This might interest the science folk, he mused. Have to remember to tell them about it.

A minority of the black motes did not scatter. Instead, they drew ever closer together, forming a small coherent shape off to one side of his head. The cloud was so small and so diffuse he did not notice it. Unaware, he continued to gaze across the creek, content just to daydream as long as the woman in his charge and the absent Sergeant Lopé permitted it.

As noiseless as the rest of the surroundings, the mote shape hovered near the side of his head. It rose, fell, drew nearer—and extended a portion of itself. The tube was very tiny. So were the eggs it fed into Ledward’s ear.

The slightest itch, infinitely less than what a mosquito bite would have caused, made him rub unconsciously at the side of his head. He didn’t even think about it. There was nothing on this world to worry him. The pathology scans said so.

“Ledward.”

He reacted to the sound of his name by rising and turning too quickly, nearly stumbling into the creek as he did so. The captain’s wife was standing and staring in his direction.

“I need your help over here. And you’d better not be smoking.”

Heedless of what it might do to an otherwise pristine water source, he hastily tossed the smoke stick into the stream and moved to rejoin her. In his haste not to be caught out smoking, he forgot all about what was probably nothing more than a puff of dust.