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“As you can see, we’re on schedule,” she said. “Colonists are being placed in deepsleep for the journey, and except for filling out the Security team, the crew is up to full strength.” She paused, then added, “Save for one other.” Halting in the main crew bay beside the empty sleep pods she and Jacob would occupy, she ran a hand along the edge of the open, transparent canopy.

“The Covenant doesn’t have a big crew,” she continued. “It’s not necessary to have one, since while in transit Mother handles the majority of functions. We’ve all gotten to know each other pretty well by now, but we’re still missing one key individual.”

Looking down at her, Kajsa nodded knowingly. “Your synthetic is still being prepped.”

Jacob gave a casual wave. “So we’ve been told. Repeatedly. He—I presume the David series is still mostly male—should have been on board and interacting with the rest of us several weeks ago.”

The two company representatives exchanged a glance. Mithun looked uncomfortable.

“Your device is being—refined. Since the Prometheus was designated as lost, every effort is being taken to ensure that the Covenant mission includes the very latest in technological advances and developments.” He indicated the brightly lit but sterile surrounds of the crew’s sleep bay. “That desire on the part of the company extends to every aspect of the ship’s systems—including its assigned synthetic.

“As the company no longer has the genius of Peter Weyland himself on which to rely,” Mithun continued, “and since synthetics are not and have never been a specialty of Yutani, it has been determined that it is worth taking the time. We want to make absolutely certain your synthetic is the best that can be made, so it is worth the modest delay in bringing him aboard ship.”

He looked to his colleague for confirmation.

Though no less perfunctory in manner, Kajsa had a more winning smile than her counterpart. “Everyone at Weyland-Yutani is aware of the approaching departure date. Rest assured that the Covenant will not leave until every requisition has been filled and every component has been thoroughly vetted. We know how important it is to establish a confident working relationship between synthetic and crew, even though he will be conscious for the majority of the journey while all of you remain in deepsleep.

“Until you arrive at your destination, you won’t need to interact with him, save for scheduled recharging and general maintenance wake times. You can be confident, however, that you will have time prior to departure to meet and interact with your synthetic.”

“I don’t want to play poker with him,” Daniels groused. “It’s just that he’s a critical piece of equipment. I have an enormous manifest to sign off, and he’s at the top of the list. I’d like to check him off.”

Sensing rising tension, Jacob spoke up. “We’re not trying to rush the company.” He smiled broadly. “My wife is something of a stickler for detail. She won’t rest easy until every last piece of gear is on board and accounted for, whether it’s our synthetic or a half pack of dehydrated peas. The company hired her because she’s thorough…” He glanced at Daniels. “Not because she’s tactful.”

“Hey!” Her eyes flashed. “I can be tactful. Right upside somebody’s head, if that’s what’s necessary to get things done.”

Mithun gestured as they approached a portal. “I think we can move on.” He adjusted the AV recorder ring on his right forefinger. “I’m getting everything I need to make my report. Kajsa will get everything she needs to make her report, and you will get everything you need to sign off on your manifest before the Covenant departs Earth orbit. Rest assured.”

Daniels was only partly mollified. “It’s assured that we’ll get plenty of rest, anyway, but the sooner our synthetic boards and we get to know him, the sooner I’ll relax.”

Jacob eyed his wife knowingly. “You won’t relax until you’re in a house on Origae-6, and the Covenant is oxidizing on the ground.”

She gave him a nudge in the ribs. “I’ll have you know, Captain Crazy-Flighty, that I—”

“We’ve got a problem.”

Daniels was interrupted by the arrival of Sergeant Hallet. His superior, Sergeant Lopé, was still on Earth working to fill the final open slot on the ship’s Security team, so Hallet was the senior security officer on board. For someone who had experienced his share of actual combat, he didn’t especially look the part. With a light-colored beard and sensitive face, he was far from filling the tall, muscular image they’d portrayed in the recruitment advertisements.

Rather than resembling someone who could keep them safe from carnivorous alien lifeforms or rogue space pirates, he looked more like someone who would make a good after-dinner conversationalist.

Having seen his interview and training vids, though, Daniels knew better. Despite his gentle appearance, he could move fast, showed extreme endurance, and knew how to handle the unexpected. In fact, his slim build was a positive, since he wouldn’t require the food resources necessary to sustain a heavy set of muscles.

Hallet was also discreet. His deceptively placid demeanor drew no attention from the surrounding swirl of workers as he quietly inserted himself into the conversation between the ship’s captain, supercargo officer, and company representatives. The husband-and-wife team expressed mild surprise at the sergeant’s interruption. The two Weyland-Yutani executives, a mix of irritation and confusion.

* * *

Hallet spared the two reps a quick, appraising glance. He would have preferred to deliver his message to Jacob and Daniels alone, but that didn’t appear possible. Given the urgency of the matter, there was no time for delay.

“We’ve got a problem,” he repeated. “In the main cargo bay.”

Daniels perked up. Slowly filling with terraforming equipment—from giant earth turners to atmospheric water condensers to muscular mechanical excavators—the cargo bay was her principal area of responsibility. Anything that happened to, with, or concerning cargo drew her immediate interest.

“Problem with volumetric assignments?” she ventured. A week ago loading had almost come to a halt when several workers nearly came to blows over where to park a two-story highly automated boring machine. Neither wanted it in his area. She’d had to physically step between the two men to prevent a fight. The problem was solved when she soothed them by informing each man, separately, that he was “right,” after which she’d assigned the machine to a third, entirely different lane outside of their respective jurisdictions.

Hallet met her questioning gaze. Though he was outwardly calm, she could see that he was sweating slightly. He stole another uneasy glance at the two bemused Weyland-Yutani representatives before continuing.

“We’ve got a renegade tech holed up all the way in back. At least, I was told he’s a tech. I haven’t had time to research his file because I’ve been too busy trying to keep him from blowing the cargo bay door.”

Jacob blinked. “’Scuse me, Hallet?”

The sergeant nodded vigorously, looking around to make certain no one outside the small group was listening.

“The guy says he’s mined the main hinges, and will blow the whole door off if the ship’s departure isn’t cancelled.”