Tennessee looked across at his wife. “Could work. Lander’s not as big as a cargo shuttle, but it’s big enough. Especially if all the engines are firing max.”
Faris nodded agreement, then hesitated. “What if we need the lander at Origae-6?”
Daniels had an answer for her. “We probably won’t need either of them. Once the Covenant sets down, it won’t be taking off again. If a situation does arise, we’ll still have the second lander.” She indicated the readout hovering in front of her husband. “If we don’t do something fast to stop that shuttle, we’ll never see Origae-6, and it won’t matter how many landers we have on board.”
“Then—on my responsibility.” Jacob raised his voice. “Mother. Prepare Lander Two for emergency departure.” They did not have to wait long for a response. The voice of the ship’s AI was soothing and assured.
“Lander Two is now ready for emergency departure.”
“Good. Program for intercept of incoming shuttle.”
The voice did not change. “I cannot do that, Captain.”
Tennessee cursed under his breath while Faris and the two younger communications officers fought to remain calm.
“Why not, Mother?” a tense Jacob asked.
“Such an intercept would result in the destruction of equipment intended solely for the use of the colonization project. I cannot comply with your request without formal authorization from the colony control board of Weyland-Yutani.”
“Screw the colony control board of Weyland-Yutani!” Jacob roared. “If that incoming shuttle isn’t intercepted, there won’t be any colony to authorize! Program intercept! Emergency override jc-21.”
Quiet, controlled, damnably inhuman. “I am sorry, Captain. I cannot comply with your request as it will result in destruction of company property intended for the colony project.”
While a near apoplectic Jacob continued to try to reason with the ship’s AI, Daniels leaned close to Faris and whispered. “We haven’t got time to argue semantics with a computer. Can you bypass Mother’s control?”
Faris thought hard. “Not through the mains. Someone would have to go on board the lander and manually disable all connections to the Covenant. Then they’d have to program the lander manually for the proposed intercept. The programming won’t be as precise as if Mother did it, but someone who knew what they were doing could… hey!”
Having abandoned his seat, Tennessee was already heading for the exit. As he looked back, he grinned and blew his wife a kiss. “I’m on it, darlin!”
Shifting his attention to Jacob, he didn’t send a similar gesture of affection the captain’s way. “Meanwhile, tell the queen circuit bitch to keep out of my way!”
“Wait, Tennessee!” Jacob gestured toward the big man, but the pilot had already vanished through the exit. “Damn fool!” he muttered.
“If anybody can pull this off, it’s Tennessee,” his wife insisted. Her voice fell. “Only problem is, if he’s on board the lander and Mother suddenly decides to comply with your order and send it out—”
“Tell her not to,” Daniels instructed her husband sharply. “Tell her to ignore everything except ongoing maintenance of normal ship functions. Tell her to… no, cancel that. Don’t talk to her at all. Ignore her.”
With nothing more to say, they waited. To the great relief of everyone on the bridge, Mother didn’t volunteer any information or suggestions of her own and, sooner than expected, Tennessee’s voice sounded over the speakers.
“I’m in place,” he said. “Shutting down intership linkages. Lander is ready for launch—Mother was right about that.”
Faris leaned in the direction of an omnipickup. “Ten, if you cut all the linkages we won’t be able to hear you. Ten?”
No response.
There was nothing they could do but wait. Wait and monitor the accelerating cargo shuttle. Wait and hope that Mother didn’t abruptly decide that the danger the unscheduled craft presented outweighed any commands to protect company property and somehow sent the now disengaged lander on an intercept course. With Tennessee on board.
Time seemed to move with agonizing slowness, and it had nothing to do with Einsteinian concepts. Murmurs arose as they discussed the situation. Lopé considered alerting the rest of the security team, but saw no point in alarming them unnecessarily. There wasn’t a damn thing they could do to help, and someone might panic. In a panic, people inevitably ended up hurting themselves.
Moving to his right, Jacob eyed one of the numerous readouts that were hovering above the command console. It showed a tiny schematic representing the oncoming cargo shuttle. He could have chosen to find a port and looked outside, but there was no point in that. Once the oncoming shuttlecraft was near enough to see with the naked eye, they would not even have time left to scream.
At regular intervals Faris tried making contact with her husband. The result was always the same—no response. After a while she looked back and over at Daniels.
“Tennessee’s been known to do some stupid things. You don’t… you don’t think he’d be stupid enough to take the lander out on manual control… do you?”
“No.” In her mind, however, Daniels couldn’t escape the image of Tennessee howling with defiance as he personally piloted the lander straight into the rogue cargo shuttle. “No, Tennessee wouldn’t do that. Besides,” she added encouragingly, “you know him. If that was his intention, he wouldn’t hold back from telling us what he was going to do. He’d shout it out.”
“Yeah. Yes, that’s right.” Faris sounded relieved. “The idiot would wear his idiocy like a badge. He’s going to program it. Just program it.”
Daniels smiled and nodded. “I’m sure of it.”
But to herself she thought, I wish he’d find a way to call in.
“He’d better know what he’s doing,” Jacob muttered. “We’ve got one shot at this working. If the programming is off, the engine sequence, anything, and the lander misses the intercept, then we’re screwed.”
When the time came, Faris made the announcement as professionally as she could.
“Lander’s away.”
All eyes turned to the main heads-up projection floating above and to her right. The graphics were straightforward enough. There was the oncoming cargo craft, far off but drawing ever nearer the larger image that represented the Covenant. Moving away from the colony ship and toward the shuttle was an equally small image that could only be the lander.
Still no communication from Tennessee.
Where the hell are you, you big ugly chunk of piloting skill? Daniels thought angrily to herself, followed by a thought that left her feeling guilty. Where the hell are we going to get another pilot on short notice?
“It’s away.” The voice came over the comm, and it was all they could do not to hug one another.
A short time later a familiar large figure came through the door. He was panting hard and sweating profusely, but his face was suffused with excitement. Exhibiting enormous self-control, Faris remained at her station. Daniels doubted she could have done the same thing.
“Done!” He scarcely acknowledged Jacob’s congratulatory slap on the back as he strode past the captain to resume his seat at the command console. “Took some fancy reprogramming, but it should work.”
“If it doesn’t,” Jacob told him quietly, “I’ll find you in the afterlife and beat the crap out of you myself.”
Tennessee shook his head as he worked at his controls. “No such luck, Cap. We’d end up in different places.” He glanced over at his wife. “How’s it lookin’, darlin’?”
Having gratefully accepted that she wasn’t going to settle on Origae-6 as a widow, Faris was intent on the instrumentation before her.
“Close,” she murmured. “It’s going to be very close.”
“Even if the lander just nicks them, it could be enough to throw them off course.” Jacob studied the readouts intently. It would all be over soon—one way or the other. “One advantage to the speed they’re movin
g. They’re acting like a bullet now—there’s no way they can shift course.”
With nothing more that could be done, they watched in silence. If the Lander failed to intersect the cargo craft’s trajectory, they’d only have seconds in which to react to whatever part of the Covenant it struck. If it hit near the bridge, they wouldn’t even have that. Edging closer to her husband, Daniels slipped an arm around his waist and squeezed tightly. Belying the seriousness of the moment, Jacob offered an affectionate smile in return.
Out in space and entirely too close to the Covenant, there was an intense flash of light. It faded very quickly. Both the oncoming cargo shuttle and the outgoing lander were traveling at speeds sufficient to ensure that each was largely vaporized by their head-on collision. The resultant debris field was sufficiently small and scattered to pose no threat to the orbiting colony ship.
Suddenly they felt the slight shudder of an impact, vibrating up through the ship. Tennessee’s hands danced over the controls as he investigated. One chunk of metal that did escape vaporization proved large enough and fast enough to violate hull integrity in the vicinity of supply hold number eight. Emergency doors in the immediate area slammed shut to seal it off from the rest of the ship. Upon inquiry, Mother avowed that the breach wasn’t significant, and could be repaired in a couple of days.
Leaning back in his seat Tennessee pushed back his ever-present cowboy hat, put his hands behind his head, and exhaled long and deep. Next to him Faris let out a nervous laugh. Similar expressions of relief were expressed by everyone else on the bridge. Only Jacob didn’t relax, raising his voice slightly.
“Stay on alert, Mother,” he said. “Maintain high awareness level until we cross the orbit of Saturn.”
“I will keep watch, Captain,” the AI replied calmly. “Rest assured.”
Working intently at his station, Ricks looked over at the others. “They finally responded to our queries. Right before impact.”
Daniels and the others turned their attention to the Communications officer.
“Were you able to save anything?” Jacob asked him. “What did they say?”
Ricks checked his instrumentation one more time. His expression was one of bafflement. “It’s just nonsense. ‘Oh-tee-bee-dee.’” He eyed his colleagues. “That make sense to anyone?”
Tennessee shook his head. Faris shrugged. As mutual incomprehension passed they returned to their duties, thankful to be alive.
Knowing full well the meaning of the final communication from the suicidal crew of the cargo shuttle, Lopé left to check on his team. He saw no reason to explain the acronym to his shipmates. The ravings of fanatics could be left, should the occasion arise, for another time.
XXVIII
Having suddenly and unexpectedly detected a powerful detonation in space in the immediate orbital vicinity of the colony ship, Weyland-Yutani’s ground support personnel went on high alert. It took both Ricks and Upworth some time to calm the people on the surface, assure them that the ship itself and everyone on board were fine, and explain that Captain Brandon would be filing a detailed report.
The fear and apprehension that had momentarily gripped the crew were replaced by the press of everyday work. To this was added a soupÇon of fresh excitement as they were told that their assigned synthetic would be arriving on the next passenger shuttle.
Informed of the impending arrival, Faris suggested that some sort of welcoming celebration might be in order. With Jacob’s consent, Daniels nixed the notion. The synthetic was simply another piece of equipment—like an automated excavator or a tower for water purification.
* * *
When the Covenant’s newest and most exceptional crewmember arrived, he wasn’t traveling alone. Accompanying him was the head of Weyland-Yutani’s Department of Neurological Engineering, as well as the two executives in charge of the synthetics program. Jacob and Daniels welcomed the group as they emerged from the transfer lock.
While her husband exchanged greetings and pleasantries with the executives, Harbison and Gilead, the department head Steinmetz hung back. The poor man looked, Daniels thought to herself, as if he would rather be anywhere else but where he was. Another dedicated, talented scientist with an unreasonable fear of space, she told herself.
The synthetic stood next to him. Placid and handsome, his appearance exuded more warmth than she had expected. That he would look entirely human was a given. That she would find herself struggling to think of him as something wholly artificial was a surprise.
Perceiving her attention Steinmetz stepped forward, wiping fretfully at the perspiration that beaded his considerable forehead. The synthetic suffered from no such issues. Among their many other attributes, synthetics had no sweat pores.
“I’m Daniels.” She extended her hand toward the department head. He took it with evident relief, glad to have something solid to grip. “Supercargo.” When Steinmetz looked blank she added, “I’m in charge of all ship and colonization supplies.” Her gaze shifted to the synthetic. “That doesn’t include you.”
Though they had been prepared for the synthetic to act exactly like any other human, its response still surprised her.
“My name is Walter, but you probably already know that. I am grateful for the exclusion from classification as ships’ supplies.” It… no, he… smiled. For a faux reaction it was remarkably engaging. “I would dislike having to spend the duration of the journey packed in a box alongside dried seafood and bottles of vitamins.”
“Don’t worry.” Recovering from her surprise, she managed to smile back, and indicated her nearby colleagues. “We’re the ones who’ll be boxed up for the best part of the trip. Dreaming in deepsleep while you operate and care for the ship, working with Mother.”
He nodded. His eyes were very blue, she noted.
“I have already established the necessary connections with the Covenant’s AI,” Walter said. “We mesh well. It speaks highly of our future cooperation.”
“The rest of us will be depending on it.” Seeing that Jacob was fully engaged in chatting with the two executives, and that the uneasy Steinmetz had joined them, she gestured to her left. “If you’re ready, I’ll show you to your quarters.”
“You mean, to my parking space.” Again the perfect smile. “I am of course content to pause personal activity anywhere on the ship, but if it pleases you to refer to them as my ‘quarters,’ then I am happy to accede to your definition.”
“You’re very agreeable,” she offered as they left the passenger reception area.
“How could I be otherwise?” Cocking his head slightly to one side, he studied her face. “You are also very agreeable. Please feel free to ask me any questions you wish. About my functioning, my construction, my thought processes—anything you find of interest.”
“Later. If you want, I can show you around the whole ship.”
“As you say, later. As I have studied the schematics for the Covenant in some detail, an extended tour will not be necessary. But there are always additions. New things to be learned. I am always happy to be instructed. It is also important that I begin to establish a rapport, a personal working relationship, with other members of the crew. I am happy to begin with you.”
“You flatter me.” They turned into an access corridor. For the first time since boarding, he looked slightly uncertain.
“That was not my intention.”
“I’m just making conversation,” she told him. “Don’t pay it any mind.”
He nodded, then added, “Given that the Covenant mission encompasses a range of information too vast for me to be certain of immediately absorbing every detail, I wonder if you could clarify something for me?”
“Sure. What’s on your mind?”
For a moment he seemed hesitant, which was odd. One thing advanced synthetics were not supposed to be was hesitant.
“I have heard, through monitoring of numerous company sources on my own, that there have recently been some… problems. Incidents of some se
riousness involving outside entities with an antagonistic interest in the colonization mission.”
She eyed him thoughtfully. He would have been programmed—filled up—with as much information as the company thought necessary for him to function as intended. Yet if she understood what he had said, he was also designed to learn on the fly, the better to carry out his role as a member of the crew. How much could she tell him? How much did he deserve to know? The last thing she wanted to do was commence their relationship with lies or subterfuge.
She decided to tell him the truth. Not censored, but in deliberate amounts, carefully dispensed.
“There were some problems, yes. They involved a group of individuals on the surface who didn’t want to see the Covenant mission go ahead.”
He frowned. It was, she noted, a perfect frown.
“Why,” he finally asked, “would any human not want to see the colonization mission proceed?”
She grunted softly. “Not all humans operate according to logic and reason.”
“So I’ve been told. Since I was activated, I have had numerous occasions on which to make note of this myself. With humans, emotion invariably enters into decision making.” He turned wistful. “I can mimic emotions. Perfectly. Would you like to see me cry? There is a saying among the scientific community. ‘Even an android can cry.’”
“Not now.” They turned another corner. “I’ll take your word for it. Or we’ll wait until an appropriate situation presents itself and you can amaze everyone else with a calculated demonstration of deeply felt empathy.”
He looked over at her. “I am also fully able to recognize sarcasm, when it is employed.”
She threw up her hands. “Okay, I admit it. You’re as human as they can make you. Maybe more human than some of the men I’ve known.”
“Or maybe less,” he commented thoughtfully. “I look forward to experiencing and discovering certain things myself. Much as I look forward to the forthcoming mission.”