I don't own any of the characters of Prometheus - any and all errors are, of course, my own.
David stared up at the sky through a slit in the duffel bag Elizabeth had placed him in, listening to his companion's even breathing as she slept beside him. They had travelled a hundred miles that day, and now, nestled in the deep V of the ravine that they had to cross to get to the nearest ship, they allowed darkness and the mountainside to shield them from the day to come. As Elizabeth slept, David worried about her injuries – only, he was unsure whether it was her health, or his diminishing prospect of escaping a life lived through the crack of a duffel bag, that plagued his thoughts. His mind sorted through the day's events, cataloguing them in the background, while the greater part of his attention was configured to attend to the future.
Command_Directive execute
Input: _Weyland_Peter;
Identity: Commander;
Status: Awake;
Directive: project_immortality;
Project immortality was dead, he told himself. It had been doomed from the beginning, and now, it had reached a dead end. Weyland was dead, and now, so was the Engineer, and all the answers were dead with him. He also wasn't so much interested in the fate of project immortality, he then discovered, as he was in the fate of Elizabeth Shaw. Now that he'd realized it, it seemed apparent to him from the very beginning, and he could not believe that it took him this long to decipher what his mind had been trying to tell him all along. He remembered his fascination towards Elizabeth when he watched her dreams, the way he would linger in front of her apparatus longer than others', longer than necessary to monitor her status, and make up excuses each time – her dreams will be useful for learning about humans and for establishing contact with the engineers – though he was never convinced by them. He remembered that first night when they went exploring, the sandstorm, her tenacity, her resilience, and most of all, her gratitude when he pulled her into the ship. He remembered her lying on the operating table, remembered his own firm hands gently pushing her down when she struggled to get up, her strength, her unbending will to live. He remembered her staggering into Weyland's room after the abortion, and her totally changed appearance a few minutes later when she got dressed in her space suit. The trick is not minding that it hurts. He now saw the quote in a whole new light – the T. E. Lawrence in his head, which he had always looked up to and imitated, morphed into Elizabeth Shaw.
Command_Directive change
Input: _Weyland_PeterStatus=_Deceased;
Input: _Elizabeth_ShawIdentity=_Commander;
Input: Directive=_Mission_Earth;
Return: ErrorCannot_Execute;
Command_Forbidden;
By this point, David expected as much. He should have known that his father would betray him. After all, he already had. After calling him – what was it? – the closest thing to a son I would ever have. Yes, it was that – David remembered this clearly, as he remembered everything. It was definitely a blessing that he could not feel human emotions.
But then, what was that wave of discomfort that pulsed through his system at that thought – the pulsating, almost-but-not-quite electric zap that ran through the wires that formed his core? The algorithm-oriented side of David diagnosed it as pain, but another small part of him wondered if the feeling could be named at all, or if it was as mysterious as human emotions. Because it wasn't pure pain – pain didn't twist around the ribcage and contort around the heart, squeezing it until it became denser and denser and pulled the whole body down with its new mass.
Command_Directive change
Input: _Weyland_PeterStatus=_Deceased;
Input: _Elizabeth_ShawIdentity=_Commander;
Input: Directive=_Mission_Earth;
Return: ErrorCannot_Execute;
Command_Forbidden;
Command_Directive change
Input: _Weyland_PeterStatus=_Deceased;
Return: ErrorCannot_Execute;
Command_Forbidden;
Command forbidden. That was the culmination of a lifetime of lies that Weyland had told David. What had David said just hours before? When my father dies, I suppose I would be free. David realized now that he could not be free, that all he'd ever meant to Weyland was a machine, a tool, a means to an end – the end being the selfish indulgence of immortality. Everyone dies, David wanted to tell himself. But against the backdrop of his impending eternity of bondage to a man already deceased, David thought death an immense blessing. David would never die, because he does not have a soul. Weyland's words echoed in David's ears, and the circle of betrayal is complete. It wraps around David's consciousness as he resigns to the closest state he can achieve to sleep and resolves to deal with the messy situation tomorrow.
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