[from trailer]
Interviewer: Is there anything you would like to say, David?
David: I would like to express gratitude to those who created me. Happy Birthday, David, from Weyland Industries.
Meredith Vickers: Good morning. I am Meredith Vickers, and it is my job to make sure you do yours.
Peter Weyland: [as a holographic recording] Hello, friends. My name is Peter Weyland. I am your employer. I am recording this, 22 June, 2091. And if you're watching it, you have reached your destination. And I am long dead. May I rest in peace. There's a man sitting with you today. His name is David. And he is the closest thing to a son I will ever have. Unfortunately, he is not
human. He will never grow old and he will never die. And yet he is unable to appreciate these remarkable gifts for that would require the one thing that David will never have. A soul. I have spent my entire lifetime contemplating the questions: Where do we come from? What is our purpose? What happens when we die? And I have finally found two people who convinced me they're on the verge of
answering them. Doctors Holloway and Shaw, if you would please stand. As far as you're concerned, they're in charge. The Titan Prometheus wanted to give mankind equal footing with the gods and for that, he was cast from Olympus. Well, my friends, the time has finally come for his return. Doctors, please. The floor is yours.
Janek: What is the atmosphere?
Ravel: Atmosphere is 71 percent nitrogen, 21 percent oxygen, traces of argon gas.
Janek: Whoa, now, that's weather.
Charlie Holloway: Just like home.
Ford: Only if you're breathing through an exhaust pipe. CO2 is over 3 percent. Two minutes without a suit,
you're dead.
Chance: Well, come on. Pay up.
Ravel: Pay what?
Chance: What do you mean, "Pay what"? Something is manufacturing breathable air down there. That, mate, is terraforming.
Ravel: No, no. The bet was why we came here. If you said that dead old man wanted to talk to Martians, then I'd pay.
Chance: Oh, come on. A hundred credits. Put it towards a lap dance with Miss Vickers.
Janek: Gentlemen, I can handle this myself. Feel free to join Miss Vickers.
Ravel: All due respect, captain, you're a shit pilot and you're gonna need all the help you can get.