Alien: Covenant - Origins - The Official Movie Prequel

XIX

Hideo Yutani should have been happy.

The home team, the Yakult Swallows, were up nine to six over the Hanshin Tigers in the top of the seventh inning. Below the ceiling of the covered stadium, a projected three-dimensional ad for one of Weyland-Yutani’s products was playing. Perceptive audience feedback indicated that sixty-three percent of the fans in the seats were aware of it.

Though his favorite pitcher, Haruo Otani, had been knocked out early, the Swallows had come back with two home runs in the fifth inning. Now it was a battle of relief pitchers and attrition.

Yutani lamented the fact that unlike the managers of both teams, there was no relief pitcher for him to call upon.

It wasn’t as if it was a new sensation. He had been more or less on his own since the age of seventeen. From a modest beginning had grown the great company that was the Yutani Corporation. The merger with Weyland had been his crowning achievement. The departure of the colony ship Covenant would be his proudest moment.

Assuming it went forward.

Someone did not want that to happen. Someone or some organization was doing everything in its power to prevent it. Efforts had been made to induce suspicion and paranoia among his own employees, to persuade them that Weyland people were sabotaging the men and women of Yutani. While the Jutou Combine was far from exonerated, it seemed as if other elements were in play. The latest information from London was almost as confusing as it was encouraging. His security people there were onto something. They just didn’t know what.

The triad of executives who ran Jutou were fanatical about business, but they were not fanatics in a more general sense. As much as he admired someone like Zhang, he did not see her authorizing, much less ordering, any of the Combine’s employees to kill themselves in order to carry out a company directive.

The conundrum was that neither he nor Davies nor any of his underlings could imagine another organization besides Jutou, with the will and power to carry out the attempts that had been made. Having failed to stop or even slow down the scheduled departure of the Covenant, he worried about what increasingly desperate fanatics might try next.

How far would they go to achieve their ends? Did they have access to atomics? Chemical weapons? If some Weyland-Yutani employees died stopping them, that could be covered up, but hundreds of colonists were already in deepsleep on board the ship. If any of them were harmed, the resulting publicity would…

“Father?”

Seated nearby in the company’s private sky suite, Jenny Yutani eyed him with concern. Though he concealed his emotions with skill born of long practice in complex business negotiations, she could read him better than anyone. In the space of days he had gone from upbeat, to depressed, to all but frantic over her kidnapping, then to upbeat again over a meeting at a restaurant that, had it not been an old friend, could have turned out very badly.

Now he was brooding anew. While he had access to the best doctors and medicine money could buy, he wasn’t a young man. The joy that had accompanied the successful merging of Yutani and Weyland had given way to a deepening concern over recent incidents.

Nomo promptly hit a triple for the Swallows, scoring a run and padding their lead. The stadium went wild, but in the private box all was subdued.

“Father,” she said again, more forcefully this time, “are you all right? Is there something I can do?”

“What?” Rousing himself, he managed a smile in her direction. “No, no, Jenny, I’m fine. Just thinking, that’s all.”

“I know what you’re thinking about,” she told him reproachfully, “and if you go on ‘thinking’ like this, you’ll have a stroke. It won’t matter if the Covenant leaves or not if you die before it departs.”

“Wise observation,” he replied, still smiling. “Easy to say, not so easy to accept.” At a nudge from one finger, his chair slid back from its position overlooking the stadium and the action on the field. “I’m going to talk to your mother.”

“Now?” She gestured toward the playing field. “The game will be over soon.”

“Not the way both teams are hitting. It’s exciting, but I just can’t let myself go long enough to get into it. I thought maybe coming to a game would help, but until the situation involving the Covenant is resolved, it is hard for me to think of anything else.” Rising from the chair, which started to follow him until he gestured for it to remain still, he came over to where she was seated, bent, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Enjoy the game for me, daughter. If I am not back in time for the last inning, I will relive it through you.”

She sighed resignedly. “I hope this unpleasant business is concluded soon. For your sake.”

Grinning, he wagged an admonishing finger. “For the company’s sake.”

She slid a hand toward a control panel set in an arm of her own chair. “Do you want me to put down the privacy screen? Shut out the game noise?”

“No. You enjoy for me.” Raising a hand, he ran it back through thinning black hair. “I have my own privacy screen.”

As he turned and walked toward the back of the executive suite he knew she was worried about him. It could not be helped. He could hide his feelings from others, but not from her. Sakiko had been the same way, aware of his true emotions no matter how hard he tried to hide them, perceptive in that pseudo-telepathic fashion known only to wives.

His underlings and executives were skilled, competent, even sympathetic, but none of them was a partner like Sakiko.

The back room of a private suite in a baseball stadium would have struck some as a strange place in which to keep a loved one’s cremated remains, but where Hideo was a willing fan of the game, Sakiko had been committed. Instructions for the location of her haka, her grave, had been explicit. They had discussed it in some detail when the sickness had turned serious. Locating the haka in the stadium was a compromise, since he had drawn the line at scattering her ashes on the pitcher’s mound.

The lighting in the small room was appropriately subdued. Several small pillars and tablets stood grouped together near the back wall. All had been cut and polished from solid African malachite—green had been Sakiko’s favorite color. Taking a large bottle of fresh water from a nearby cabinet he proceeded to clean everything, then used traditional bucket and dipper to perform the purifying kiyomeru. In lieu of fresh flowers there was a profusion of artificial orchids and other exotic blooms that had been hand-wrought with such skill that they were impossible to tell from the real thing. Adjustable electronic candles glowed inside the twin silver holders. They brightened automatically at his approach.

Taking a stick of self-igniting incense from an open box, he flicked it alight and placed it lovingly in the empty holder. As there was still green tea in the open crystal decanter nearby, he felt no need to add more.

Kneeling before the haka, he sat back on his ankles, pressed his fingers together in front of him, closed his eyes, and bowed. These days his ankles hurt when he knelt in the proper position, but as always he ignored the pain, joking to himself that Sakiko would have appreciated the sacrifice. Straightening, he put his hands on his hips and regarded the grave.

“I have no offering for you today, Sakiko, save that the Swallows are winning.” He smiled to himself. “Knowing you, that should be enough. Meanwhile, the problem I spoke to you about last time remains and I—I don’t know what to do. We still do not know who is responsible and, not knowing, there is no way to direct a response. It seems as if our people are getting closer to an answer, but the departure time for the ship is also growing nearer. This interference has to be eliminated.

“The Jutou Combine is still under suspicion, but it seems as if other forces may be at work. While our people continue to work hard to find the necessary answers, there are no specifics as yet on which we can act.” He shook his head slightly. “I cannot move, cannot give orders, without specifics. I am a general whose troops must dodge incoming arrows, but who cannot see the enemy bowmen.”

He stayed like that until the pain in his knees and ankles threatened to turn them numb. The last thing he wanted to have to do was hit the wall-mounted emergency button that would bring someone into the room to help him stand. It required a bit of a struggle, but he managed to rise to his feet on his own.

“I miss you, Sakiko. I miss your counsel, your touch, your smile. I miss you jumping up and down like a child when one of the Swallows hits a home run or steals a base. I miss the way you looked at company functions, wearing your gowns and jewels. I even miss your nagging, which was usually but not always grounded in some truth. I miss…”

He stopped. It would not do to return to the game with tears in his eyes. He was Hideo Yutani, CEO and president of the Weyland-Yutani corporation. Men in his position did not cry. They gave orders in a quiet but stern voice. They commanded respect. Even while watching a baseball game.

His people here and in London were closing in on whoever was behind the repeated attempts to destroy the mission. They had to be. The departure of the Covenant could not be delayed, much less cancelled. Those who were trying to stop its departure would be identified. Then they would be dealt with.

Quietly but sternly.

Once more he bowed. Then he turned and left the room and the glowing electronic lights and the smell of expensive incense. Leaving them to a part of his life he had been forced to put behind him.

Another part of that life was waiting anxiously for his return. Spinning her chair, Jenny Yutani almost rose to embrace her father, but decided against it. She knew the display might unsettle him, which would be counterproductive. He could be affectionate, but immediately after communing with his dead wife wasn’t the best time to seek such reassurance. Even a man as tough as Hideo Yutani was not immune to emotional excess.

Seeing her expression, however, he hastened to reassure her. “I’m better now. Being in the presence of your mother always helps to relax me.”

“That’s not what you used to say when she would follow you around the house screaming at you.”

The smile remained. “Your mother never screamed at me. She simply emphasized the points she wished to make, and did it in an elevated tone of voice.” He nodded toward the field. “How is the game progressing?”

She made a face. “Not good. Otami hit a grand slam for the Tigers. We’re only up one run now.”

“Damn.” He resumed his seat nearby. “I’m not in the mood for extra innings.”

“I’ll check the defibrillator.” She smiled. “Never let it be said that I didn’t look after my father.”

He had to laugh, albeit softly. “I feel fine, really. Let’s watch the rest of the game.”

It took eleven innings, but the Swallows won on a steal of home off a bunt single. When the game was over he had dinner delivered to the suite. Over synthetic veal, vegetables, and wine sourced from some of the last surviving vineyards in New Zealand, he was comfortable enough again to ask her opinion. Though he never referred to it as advice, only opinion, both of them knew exactly how he felt about her counsel.

“The investigation appears to be progressing in London,” he told her as they awaited a small dessert.

“Then what’s the problem?” She sipped her Perrier, a wonderful product and company Yutani Corporation had purchased decades earlier.

“It is not progressing fast enough.” Picking his napkin off his lap, he tossed it onto the table. He didn’t feel like dessert. Jenny could have his as well as her own, if she wished. “The closer the time comes for the Covenant to depart, the more uneasy I become.”

She considered. “Everything these unknown people have tried so far has failed.”

“True, but their efforts grow bolder, and thus far we have been fortunate. If not for the tracking devices embedded in your shoes and your coolness in deploying them, the attempt to abduct you might have succeeded. If not for the experience and awareness of our employees—Daniels on the Covenant and Sergeant Lopé in London—either of those efforts might have succeeded.” Sitting up straighter, he folded his hands on the table and eyed her earnestly. “One can play pachinko all day and win, and then rapidly lose everything. You know me, Jenny. I dislike relying on something as insubstantial as luck.”

Dessert arrived in the form of two small cups of freshly made green tea sorbet flavored with pomegranate. His daughter finished one in less than a minute before settling down to a more leisurely reduction of the second.

“Can we tighten security any more?” she asked.

He shook his head and looked away, distracted. “Security on the Covenant cannot be locked down any further. We have instigated serious changes in boarding procedures at the two departure sites. I am assured it’s not possible for anyone with inimical intentions to get on board the shuttles that are running people and supplies to the ship.”

Pausing the petite, sorbet-laden spoon halfway to her mouth, she frowned slightly. “How can even the best security determine someone’s intentions? I can see discovering a weapon or an explosive, but—a hostile intention? Do we now have devices that can divine someone’s purpose?”

“You know what I mean,” he replied impatiently. “We have security people who are trained to watch and if necessary to interrogate those who are boarding the shuttles. Admittedly the system is not perfect, but it has worked effectively in the past.”

“Yes,” she murmured, “but this is the present.”

There were times when he thought his daughter deliberately tried to infuriate him.

“What changes would you suggest, princess?”

“You worry that things are progressing too slowly in London, even though you express confidence in those attempting to identify the source of our problem.”

He grunted softly. “I am assured that Captain Bevridge did not achieve his present status through incompetency. Nor was the chief of mission security, Sergeant Daniel Lopé, chosen for his position because he is unqualified. With security on board the ship properly tightened, it’s for him to continue to assist in the ongoing inquiry. But yes—I am still concerned at the pace of the investigation.”

She tossed her head slightly, and the diamond dust spray in her hair caught the light of the suite’s subtle illumination, giving her the look of a beautiful but tough pixie.

“Then do something to speed it up.” No one else would have dared use such an abrupt tone with Hideo Yutani.

“Such as? Bevridge and Lopé already have access to whatever resources they might need.”

“One never knows when the watchers themselves are being watched.”

His brows drew together. “Who told you that one?”

“You did. A long time ago.”

He chuckled softly. “Your memory of me is better than my own. Are you saying that the object of the investigation may be aware of it, and is taking measures to keep track of our efforts?”

She gestured with the small sorbet spoon, tracing arcs in the air above the table. “I’m saying that it might speed up the investigation if we came at it from another, complimentary angle that was separate from the first. In combat, never discount the value of opening an unexpected second front.”

He looked bemused. “Did I say that, too?”

“No.” She dug into the last of the now watery sorbet. “Kawakami Soroku, I think.”

He pondered the suggestion before finally replying. “I think it’s a good idea. I don’t see how it can hurt. If the current investigators fail to identify our adversaries, perhaps someone else, utilizing a separate approach, might succeed.”

Picking up a linen napkin, she dabbed delicately at her lips. “Do you have someone in mind?”

He nodded. “Someone who occasionally works for a friend of mine. We had dinner recently and his name came up. Someone who moves freely in the world of the legitimate, but who has access to—other resources. Resources that might be denied to Bevridge-san and Sergeant Lopé.”

“That sounds promising. I concur.”

“So happy you agree.” His reply was touched with a mixture of sarcasm and affection. “I’ll engage him immediately, have him briefed, and send him on his way. He should be in London by tomorrow evening. Let us hope for good results.”

“As good as that dessert, anyway.” As they rose from their seats she smiled affectionately at him. “You really should have had some, Father.”

He shook his head tersely. “I fear that until this matter is successfully resolved I will not be in the mood for anything sweet save your company.” They moved in tandem toward the suite’s exit where four bodyguards were waiting: two to escort him home, two to perform the same service for his daughter.

“I wish mother was here,” she murmured. “She would have her own ideas about what to do.”

Her observation stirred Yutani’s heartiest laugh of the day. “Your mother would insist on going to London herself, weapons in hand, to blow away anyone who crossed her path. She was a loose cannon, your mother. Smart and beautiful, but entirely unpredictable.”

His daughter peered into her father’s face. “Yet you loved her for that.”

“No, I considered it her worst trait.” The smile returned. “But everything else about her made up for it.”

Yoji Ngata did not look the part of a Yakuza fixer. He was short, balding all the way across his head, round-faced, and visibly plump. The plumpness concealed muscle and a remarkable reaction time. While judo was his specialty, he held so many black belts in so many different martial arts that there was little left for him to try. He was quite capable of out-wrestling, out-maneuvering, and out-fighting anyone his size and most who were bigger than him.

More importantly, he could inevitably out-think them. Fighting him, one opponent had declared, was like trying to defeat a sentient bowling ball. You couldn’t hurt it, you couldn’t predict what it would do, and the next thing you knew it was landing on your foot.

He didn’t have to pack. The single black carry-on bag in the closet of his apartment was always packed with the necessities so that he could be ready to go on a moment’s notice. As he bade goodbye to his cat, Lune, secure in the knowledge that the apartment’s AI would take care of his companion, he considered the details of his assignment.

Lune continued the review in the autocab, upon disembarking at the airport, and as he boarded the private supersonic jet that was waiting to take him to London. He quite liked Greater London, having spent time there on several previous occasions, not all of which involved work. The English city was very different from Greater Tokyo and offered a nice change of scenery… when one could see it through the pollution.

According to the information that had been provided to him, he was looking for a group of fanatics. They might work for or be employed by the Jutou Combine. Or not. Regular Weyland-Yutani operatives were trying to locate the same people, but if possible, he was to work on his own. That suited him perfectly. Though he could be quite congenial when the situation demanded, he much preferred to fly solo.

It saved him the discomfit that sometimes arose when people made fun of his appearance, and he had to hurt them.