Looking on with a clinical eye, David observed the process in silence, until something spilled out of one of the man’s pockets to roll across the floor. A metal worry bead.
Extending a leg, the synthetic stopped it with a toe and spoke quietly.
“You’re relieved of duty, Captain.”
XVIII
Daniels slept while Walter watched.
So interesting, the condition of human sleep, he mused. Like death, but not. Because even while resting, the brain was still active. Humans had spoken to him of their dreams, and he could not help but wonder what it must be like. To have one’s thoughts and imagination run wild, entirely out of control, and then to revive with everything exactly the same as it had been before the experience.
David would have declared it another wonderment that was denied them.
If he dreamed, Walter wondered, would he dream of being human? Or would he dream as a human?
No, he told himself. That would not be possible. His dreams, like his condition of continuous consciousness, would be ordered and logical. Even while dreaming he would not be capable of losing control. He could not decide if he regretted that, or was relieved to know he would never have the opportunity to find out.
As Daniels slept, some hair fell down across her forehead. Reaching out, he gently brushed it aside, settling the strands back in their proper position. Adjusting them made him feel good. Touching her made him feel good.
Why? What was he feeling? Or was he simply responding to programming because he had “served,” even if in so small a fashion? Because he had done something he was designed to do?
Did he “feel”?
His exceptional hearing allowed him to sense the presence of another person even before the newcomer entered the mammoth chamber. Comparing the volume of sound made by the footsteps against the perceived mass of their owner, while allowing for such variables as the weight of the clothing worn and equipment carried, enabled him to hazard a guess as to who the arriving individual would be.
It was most likely Private Cole.
“Hey, we made contact!” A little out of breath from his rapid descent from the rooftop, Cole gasped out the information. “We reached the Covenant!”
His shout woke Daniels. For reasons he could not isolate, this displeased Walter. His disappointment passed quickly, along with any further attempts to understand the cause.
“That’s wonderful!” Scrambling to her feet, she looked around and frowned when she didn’t find the person she sought. “Where’s Oram?” Her attention shifted from the private to Walter. “Where’s Oram?”
“I have no idea,” the synthetic replied truthfully.
A troubled Daniels pondered the captain’s absence. “He wouldn’t be gone for long on his own. Not even allowing for his current emotional state. I thought he was recovering, getting past it a little, but maybe…” Dropping the thought, she indicated the far portal. “We’d better go find him.”
She headed out of the gigantic chamber. Walter accompanied her willingly, and without having to be asked.
While it scarcely seemed possible to those on board the Covenant, sensors suggested that the storm now raging just below them had grown even stronger.
It seemed inconceivable that an Earth-type planet could give birth to so much violent weather over such a large expanse of its surface. If anyone needed any reminder of the reality, however, all they had to do was gaze out a port, to witness the colossal bursts of electricity that continued to explode across and through the roiling clouds beneath the ship, stitching them together with lightning.
Standing on the bridge and having made two-way contact with those on the surface, Tennessee and Upworth crowded around Ricks’ console. His hands moved rapidly but carefully as he manipulated holos and readouts. The last thing he wanted to do was lose the contact they had finally established with their brethren on the ground.
Having failed to find Oram but energized by Cole’s announcement, Daniels and Walter followed the private back onto the roof of the great building. As she and the synthetic joined him and Lopé, she told herself that the captain most likely was with Rosenthal. He’d regret not being present to talk to the ship.
Hearing Tennessee’s voice over the comm wasn’t just welcome—it was downright uplifting.
“Mother’s saying the storm should start clearing in eight or nine hours,” he reported. “That’s just an estimate, not a firm prediction. But if it holds…”
As Cole gestured for her to reply, she spoke toward the field comm’s pickup.
“We’ll use the cargo lift.”
“You want to clarify that, Danny?” Tennessee’s surprise sounded clearly through the uplink. “Did you say use the cargo lift?”
“Why not? It’s got two engines, four thrusters, and it’s way overpowered for just lifting and hauling. I know, because I’m responsible for making sure it’s always in working order.”
Tennessee still had concerns.
“Cargo lift’s not made for the kind of weather we’re facing here,” he countered, “and it’s not supposed to be deployed until the ship is in low orbit around our final destination. Don’t know if it’ll take the stresses that’ll be put on it in the course of a drop under local conditions—much less if it’ll have what it takes to return.”
“It’ll handle both,” she assured him. “The cab was made fully space-worthy, in case it had to deal with everything from sub-arctic cold to flying lava. The rest of the unit was built equally tough. Trust me, I know every centimeter of it. It’ll take the stresses.” She qualified herself. “I wouldn’t do a couple of dozen drop and returns in bad weather, but for one or two, it’ll function just fine. Strip her back to the main platform to reduce the weight. Take off all the storage and backup equipment modules. That’ll mean we’ll have enough thrust to achieve escape velocity, no matter how bad the weather is.” She paused for emphasis.
“It only has to come down and go back up once, Tee.”
As they waited for a response, the others grew increasingly nervous. A worried Lopé eyed Cole, who was handling the communications gear.
“Have we lost them?”
Cole checked the readouts on the console, shook his head. “Everything here says the channel is still live.”
“They’re debating whether to proceed—and if so, how.” Daniels did her best to radiate confidence. “I know Tee. He’s not going to agree to any plan of action without conferring with the others first. No matter how desperate the need, he’ll go over all the angles before committing.”
Sure enough, the pilot’s voice came through clearly a moment later.
“Stand by, ground team.” They could hear him, faintly, as he queried the others. Ricks and Upworth would be there with him on the bridge, Daniels knew. Would he act without their accord? She doubted it.
“Can we get the heavy cargo lift retooled?” he said, addressing the others aboard the Covenant. “Boost the engine output? Reduce the weight by removing any and every non-essential? Whatever it takes. In seven hours?”
Straining, Daniels could hear Upworth’s reply.
“Yes.”
Tennessee’s voice strengthened once more as he addressed them directly. “We’ll be there, ground team.”
Cole let out a long whooo of relief, while Lopé just smiled tightly. Daniels smiled too, even though getting through the next seven hours or so was going to see a rise in everyone’s blood pressure. It wasn’t likely to subside until they were actually back on the ship.