The PROMETHEUS Novelization Project

  CHAPTER 13 The Engineer Dr. Shaw sat in the larget of the buggies, lost in thought, when the android David approached and sat across from her. “I didn’t know you had it in you…” David said, immediately realizing his verbal slip. “Oh… sorry, poor choice of words. Extraordinary survival instincts, Elizabeth.” Dr. Shaw scowled at the synthetic excuse for a man; trim, smooth and laughably eloquent. “What happens when Weyland is no longer around to program you?” Shaw posed. “I suppose… I would be free,” the android replied in a distant stare. “You would want that?” “Want? Hmm… not a concept I am familiar with. That being said, doesn’t everybody want their parents dead?” “I didn’t,” Shaw responded meekly. At that moment, the rest of the ‘team’ filed into the buggy. “Dr. Shaw,“ the wheezing voice of Weyland filled the cab of the vehicle, “So pleased you could join us.” The buggy drove quickly through the sickly afternoon light of LV-223. Elizabeth Shaw wasn’t sure how

  Chapter 12 Unholy Revivals Janek was a captain through and through. At times he felt as though the pulse in his veins matched the ambient rumbling of his mighty ship. His breath and the fluctuation of his ship’s engines were so often as one while the Prometheus moved through space. Even the tiniest of details did not slip the seasoned captain’s senses. As such, when one small monitor crackled out of blackness and into focus, Janek spotted it among the spanless array of screens, buttons, displays and the like. He moved closer to the image, which showed a combination of rocks and industrial metal – the loading ramp just outside! His heart skipped a beat when he pieced together what the source of the feed was; it was one of the in-helmet cameras of an environmental suit. In the lower right corner of the screen was the name FIFIELD, S. “Bridge to Hangar- this is the Captain!” “Yes, Captain,” Wallace returned as he carefully set himself down from a scaffolding. “Fifield just poppe

  CHAPTER ELEVEN “Abandoned” David walked around the huge platform and sat down in the central alien throne; like some toy out of place and scale to the chair it sat in. The controls in front were incomprehensible; even to the synthetic man who, at this point in time, was the most knowledgeable being in the galaxy on the subject of the extinct Engineers. There were no buttons, only a lifeless holographic emitter and two long rows of yellowish balloons filled with some sort of gelatinous matter. David pressed one of his fingers firmly into one of them at random; the throne spun forty-five degrees and an emission matrix spread outward in a virtual explosion. From the corner of David’s right peripheral, he saw two holographic renditions of Engineers walk into sight onto the platform. Both of the Engineers held a helmet under one of their massive arms. At long last, David heard their grave voices speak in the Indo-European that he had studied so diligently. “Is everything in place?”

  CHAPTER TEN “Gestation” Dr. Holloway woke up before his lover the following morning. He felt absolutely awful; his head pounded, he was covered in sweat, his mouth was dry, he ached all over, his stomach and bowels burned from assumedly all of the low-end white wine Holloway had consumed. He went over to the sink on the other side of the quarters he shared with Dr. Shaw, turned on cold water and rinsed his face two times over before looking at himself in the mirror. He looked about as horrible as he felt, that was true enough; but as he looked at himself, Holloway felt something that was not synonymous with the symptoms of a hangover. He felt an unusual coursing, a sort of warm movement, behind one eye and then the other. Holloway leaned in so that his face was inches from the mirror just above the small, mental sink. He used the pointer fingers on both of his hands to pull apart the top and bottom eyelids of his bloodshot left eye. He leaned in closer… and for one brief moment, H

  CHAPTER NINE “Contamination”   Dr. Charles Holloway sat alone at the far end of the rec room pool table; dejectedly rolling the billiard balls into one another by hand with his head resting on one arm. He was now feeling quite drunk; having resolved to drink a copious amount of white wine straight from the bottle in a short duration of time, during the examination of the Engineer head that his girlfriend had so selfishly almost thrown her own life away to recover. Yes, their work was important… but important enough for one of the two lovers to give their lives? In Holloway’s mind, nothing was more important than the love he shared with Shaw and the life they had together. He felt betrayed that Shaw was willing to throw her own life away from the head of the Engineer. The fact that they had learned virtually nothing from the head was merely the salt in Dr. Holloway’s still-fresh wound. After all this time and searching, after all of this hard work, he felt as though everything th