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Alan Foster: Alien: Covenant - Origins: The Official Movie Prequel

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Alan Foster Alien: Covenant - Origins: The Official Movie Prequel

Alien: Covenant - Origins: The Official Movie Prequel: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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The mission is the most ambitious endeavor in the history of Weyland-Yutani. A ship bound for Origae-6, carrying two thousand colonists beyond the limits of known space, this is make-or-break investment for the corporation—and for the future of all mankind. Yet there are those who would die to stop the mission. As the colony ship hovers in Earth orbit, several violent events reveal a deadly conspiracy to sabotage the launch. While Captain Jacob Branson and his wife Daniels complete their preparations, security chief Daniel Lopé recruits the final key member of his team. Together they seek to stop the perpetrators before the ship and its passengers can be destroyed. An original novel by the acclaimed ALAN DEAN FOSTER, author of the groundbreaking novelization, is the official chronicle of the events that led up to . It also reveals the world the colonists left behind.

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Hallet nodded. “The guy won’t even see us, but we’ll see him on our suit monitors.” She gave him a look, and he added, “We won’t do anything to endanger the hostage.”

“I’m counting on that,” she said. “I’m coming with you.” Pulling an EVA suit from a cabinet by the door, she climbed into it and let the stocky Private Cole help her with the helmet. “Suit comms will also be jammed, so we won’t be able to communicate with Mother. We’ll have to use the manual diaphragms to talk to each other. Once we make contact with the crazy, I’ll try reasoning with him.”

“We already did that,” Cole pointed out quietly through his thick beard. “As you know, it didn’t do a damn bit of good.”

“Maybe I can be more persuasive.” She checked the broadcast volume on the unit’s manual communications setup. “If nothing else, you can be positioning yourselves while I engage him.”

“If he doesn’t decide to kill the hostage first,” Ledward muttered.

“He kills her, he loses his shield.” Ankor was checking his rifle.

“Given his threat to blow the door while he’s standing right next to it, it doesn’t sound to me like he much cares if he lives or dies,” Daniels reminded the private. “All he wants is to fulfill his mission, which is to stop the Covenant from carrying out its own, and to vent whatever propaganda he’s cobbled together. Neither is going to happen.” She turned back to Hallet. “Time’s about up.”

He nodded. Hefting his own rifle, he positioned himself beside the door that opened into the cargo bay. As Daniels had surmised, the velocity of the F90’s ammo had been adjusted for safe use within the hull of the ship.

At five minutes plus two seconds, Ledward activated the door controls. Rifle raised, Cole led the way. Once inside he immediately moved to his left so that he wasn’t blocking the portal. Ankor followed him and slid to the right. Should it be needed, they could lay down covering fire. Hallet, Ledward, and, finally, Daniels advanced quickly into the cargo bay. One by one they attached their suits to the sliding emergency cables that would reel out behind them. In the event of the bay’s sudden, explosive decompression, the cables would keep them from being sucked out into space.

Mountains of sealed containers towered around them, containing supplies to help the colony establish itself. Farther down the cavernous storage area stood the panoply of machines that would enable the colonists to mine, process, irrigate, sow, and build. While the bulk of supplies and equipment had already been loaded onto the ship, further shipments were still due. As a result, not everything in the cargo bay had been secured for deep-space running. If the bay door blew, a lot of Weyland-Yutani’s expensive preparations were going to become a mass of useless orbital junk.

Daniels tried her suit comm. As she had hoped, it responded with a burst of static on all communications frequencies. Tennessee had done his job, but in the terrestrial atmosphere contained in the bay, her helmet diaphragm worked fine.

“Where?” was all she whispered to Hallet.

Word-wise, the sergeant proved still more economical. Cradling his F90 under his left arm he pointed with his right hand, then indicated to his team to move. Communicating with gestures, the small group spread out as they headed toward the back of the cargo area. They managed to cover quite a bit of distance before their presence was noted.

“That’s far enough! Stop right there!”

He wasn’t very big, Daniels observed. For a terrorist he was singularly unimpressive in appearance. No taller than herself, straight black hair balding in front, with typical Asian features and a slight build, he was dressed in a standard expedition prep tech uniform, and held a pistol. The middle-aged woman he held in front of him was half gray-haired and not from choice. She was stocky, wide-eyed, and plainly terrified.

The sight of Daniels flanked at intervals by four members of the Covenant security team holding very large guns did nothing to reassure her. Neither she nor the man standing behind her wore survival suits.

Hallet leaned slightly toward Daniels. “Hostage is identified as Cara Prestowicz, company contracted for pre-departure ship’s systems installation. She’s a tech, fourth class.”

Daniels nodded and took a couple of steps forward. As she did so, the saboteur pressed the muzzle of the pistol tight against the side of the woman’s head. Prestowicz let out a half-stifled cry and closed her eyes. Daniels could clearly see her lips moving in silent prayer.

“Take it easy, friend.” Her helmet diaphragm allowed her words to ring clearly above the soft mechanical humming that was the only other sound in the cargo area. Given the gravity of the situation, the bright non-electronic lighting that illuminated the bay and everything in it verged on the surreal.

“I’m not your friend!” The man licked his lips. His eyes kept darting in all directions, seeking other potential assailants. “I’m not going to let you stall me. Weyland-Yutani has to declare an end to the Origae-6 endeavor. If an announcement to that effect isn’t broadcast worldwide within the next half hour, I will activate a switch in my boot, and set off all the CT-12 I’ve placed at critical junctures around the main door to this hold.” He lowered his gaze.

“You all are cabled in and suited up,” he continued. “You will probably survive, although maybe not. Even if you do, it will take the company months to repair the door and replace the equipment that will be lost. Meanwhile, my colleagues will see to it that your security lapse will be revealed to the media, leading to a cancellation of the mission. So either way, the company loses and the mission is scrapped.” He nudged his hostage. She let out a second gasp and her lips moved faster.

“I am prepared to die for my cause,” he said. “This woman is not. The choice is yours.”

Daniels pursed her lips. “The choice has already been made.”

For the first time, he looked uncertain. “What are you talking about? The choice of how to proceed is mine, and mine alone!”

Hallet had heard about enough. “Not any more, manuke.”

Daniels took a deep breath. “All of the electronics in the cargo area have been smothered. You’ll notice that instead of our suit comms, my companions and I are using our suit diaphragms to talk.” She gestured toward his feet. “You can slap your foot all you want, even do an Irish jig, but your detonator won’t be able to make a connection.”

The saboteur’s face ran through a gamut of expressions from confident, to uncertain, to panic, before settling finally on uncertain.

“How do you know it isn’t a manual pressure trigger?”

She ventured a disarming smile. “Internal ship’s scanners showed electronics in your glove and boot. They wouldn’t be necessary if you were relying on simple pressure to set off the explosives. Also, a pressure trigger wouldn’t make sense. Too much chance of accidentally setting it off at the wrong time.” She paused, and her smile became grimmer. “But I wasn’t completely sure. I am now. If it was a pressure sensor, you wouldn’t even have mentioned it. You’d just be slapping your heel silly by now.”

Suddenly he bent to touch the heel of his right boot, tapping it with the tips of the fingers on his left hand. Daniels tensed. Around her, fingers tightened against triggers, but in lieu of Hallet’s order to do so, none of the team members fired. Though each of them was ready to take out the terrorist, the safety of the hostage remained paramount.

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