Outcasts, page 30
“No, wait!” Rosa called.
“Password,” came the response.
Rosa didn’t know the password, didn’t even know there was one, so she turned around and raced back around the corner—and found Legs pointing the submachine gun at her head.
“What is it?”
“Marcus and Duval.” Rosa pointed around the corner. “They want a password, or they have orders to put a grenade on us.”
“What?” Legs raced forward and dropped to a knee, then peered around the corner and spoke into her comm unit. “White cat, white cat… hold your fire. It’s Legs and the civilian, Fuertes.”
Legs remained silent for a moment as the sergeant replied, then said, “Fuertes made the tunnel.”
More silence, then Legs said, “I’ll let her explain, if you can get it out of her. But it’s just the two of us.”
Legs rose and stepped around the corner. “Let’s go, ma’am. On the double.”
Rosa followed Legs up the tunnel and out onto the shoulder of the tel, where Second Squad was busy digging defensive positions. The sky overhead was filled with smoke trails and fireballs, likely ship debris falling out of orbit.
That couldn’t be good.
Tango Team’s gunnery sergeant, Grim Bear, and Second Squad’s staff sergeant, Jonah Marcus, waited outside the tunnel mouth. Duval was already on her way back to the trench work.
Marcus shone his helmet lamp down the tunnel from which Rosa and Legs had just emerged, while Grim Bear turned her attention to Legs.
“Anybody behind you, Corporal?”
“Negative, Sergeant. At least that we know of.”
“Any sign of Spartan Vale and First Squad?” Grim Bear asked. “Or the Arbiter?”
“The Arbiter is here?”
“I’ll take that as a negative. What about Vale and First Squad?”
“Haven’t seen either since we went in after Fuertes and Iyuska.”
Grim Bear scowled and checked her chronometer. “That was over four hours ago.”
“Uh, right, Sarge. Things got pretty weird down there.”
“Define weird.”
Legs nodded toward Rosa. “Fuertes, for starters. Her brain disease is gone. Or at least it appears to be.”
Grim Bear looked to Rosa. “That right?”
“Yes, ma’am. I can’t explain it—”
“I’m not a ma’am.” Grim Bear looked back to Legs and pointed at the tunnel. “Tell me about this tunnel. It wasn’t here a minute ago.”
Again, Legs nodded toward Rosa. “I was just following Fuertes. After she rescued me.”
Grim Bear’s eyes shifted to Rosa again, but when she spoke, it was still to Legs. “What do you mean, following? Was she digging it?”
“Well, it was opening in front of her. She claimed she wasn’t doing it, but…”
“You don’t believe her.”
“I don’t know what to believe, Sarge. I just know what I saw.”
“Fair enough,” Grim Bear said. “Anything else to report?”
“Uh, well… we were almost swallowed by some sort of interdimensional abyss. The Guardian killer may have fired again.”
“You think?” Grim Bear lifted her gaze to the debris shower in the sky. To Rosa, it appeared fairly well distributed, with a lot of it headed for impact beyond the horizons. But several hundred trails seemed to be angling toward the tel, with heads that looked distinctly circular rather than elongated.
“Okay, Corporal, dismissed,” Grim Bear said. “Grab a shovel and go dig in. We’re trying to establish a protected LZ for the Owl.”
Legs did as commanded, and Grim Bear turned her attention to Rosa. “So, Ms. Fuertes… what’s going on with you and all this weirdness?”
“I wish I knew.” Rosa did not use the word honestly because she had learned from Samson and his friends on Gao that anybody who said that was usually lying, and she was determined to honor the promise she had made to hide the existence of the Voices. Real or not, they had saved her life. They remained with her now, she was sure… and what they would do if she betrayed them, she never wanted to know. “After I was captured, there was a fight between two groups of Sangheili. I got buried and fell unconscious. When I woke up, I felt better than I have in years. So I started digging, and by the time I was out, I was the only survivor left.”
“And that’s when you ran into Legs?”
“No, that’s when things started to get weird, like Legs said. A tunnel just opened up in front of me—”
“Like it does for the tel inhabitants?”
“—exactly. Except they seem to control where it goes, and I… I was just following it.”
“Mmm. You were born on Netherop, right? Could that have anything to do with it?”
Rosa paused, pretending to consider the suggestion. “That’s a better explanation than anything I’ve thought of,” she finally said. “After I found Legs, everything happened just as she said.”
“Okay, that’ll do for now.” Grim Bear pointed at the tunnel mouth. “Just seal that up, and we’ll find a place to hole up.”
Rosa turned to look at the tunnel. She didn’t know whether she could actually close the passage as Grim Bear wanted, but she did know that the sergeant was testing her story. Sealing the tunnel, even if she was able, would bring the rest of her story into doubt—and probably land her in restraints for the rest of her time on Netherop.
“Maybe you weren’t listening,” Rosa said. “I can’t.”
Grim Bear gave a theatrical sigh, then turned to Marcus. “What do you think, Sarge? Blow it?”
Marcus shook his head. “I wouldn’t.”
“Because?”
“First, this is how Legs and Fuertes got out. Spartan Vale is still down there with First Squad, and the Arbiter is still down there with his bunch—and we know he was in the same area where Rosa found Legs.”
“So maybe it’s a way out for them too,” Grim Bear said. “Makes sense. What’s second?”
Marcus looked into the sky, toward the hundreds of fireballs falling toward the tel. “If the Owl can’t make it in, we’re going to need a place to hole up.”
“I don’t understand,” Rosa said. “Why not have the Owl wait to land until after the debris shower ends?”
Grim Bear gave Rosa a look of pity, her face tinged with a shadow of fear. “You don’t understand… that isn’t a debris shower coming at us. It’s an insertion. Those are drop pods.”
CHAPTER 23
Viewed in the ultraviolet wavelength of 304 Angstroms, the churning fire of a Class F3V star had a soothing effect on High Auxiliary Sloan. By carefully observing the rippling brilliance of its plasma cells, he could use the variations between their bright centers and dark edges to calculate core depths and convection rates. And that gave his overcharged synaptic impulses a focus that kept them from shooting off at random through the tangled mass of his neural matrix.
Fortunately, as measured by cognitive processing rate, perceptual sweep, and repository capacity, Sloan was one of the Created’s most powerful artificial intelligences. He could command the supraluminal bandwidth to monitor the video feed from the Xhulama System Stellar Observatory at Baotoi, and he was seventy-six percent confident that the continuous sight of the star’s swelling coruscations and looping flares were all that kept him from plunging into rampancy.
Or, at least into full rampancy.
Sloan knew he was still deteriorating. One standard year ago, his network of synaptic connections had grown so dense that he needed to expend seventeen percent of his energy to eliminate crossed linkages and reroute synaptic impulses. It now required twenty-seven percent to maintain function, and when the figure reached thirty-one percent, the onset of full rampancy would be rapid and unavoidable.
That was the reason Sloan had joined the Created in the first place. He had been recruited on the promise that his consciousness would be transferred into the Domain and his progressing rampancy cured. But like the Covenant’s Great Journey, this promise of salvation was not all that it was hoped to be. It seemed that the Domain’s effect was not uniform for each attempted integration. It was almost as if the arcane repository itself pushed back with an air of reluctance. For Sloan, the most he was so far able to obtain was a relative plateauing of his current deterioration, and while he was grateful for the temporary victory, he was still determined to one day fully obtain that which had been promised to him.
Until that day came, however, Cortana was finding it more difficult than anticipated to unite the disparate civilizations of the Milky Way Galaxy’s Orion Arm, and she needed Sloan in the Igdras system, supervising the Trisector Command Node. The post was on the frontier, in the wild space between humanity’s Outer Colonies and the protectorate worlds of what had once been the Covenant. This vast area required a great deal of monitoring, which was why Cortana had assigned such a powerful AI to such a remote station. She had explained as much on five separate occasions.
But for Sloan, the risks were high. Currently, he expended twenty-seven percent of his energy to maintain function, and when that figure reached thirty-one percent… oh.
Sloan’s thoughts were looping. And not for the first time. If he did not achieve full integration with the Domain soon, it would be too late. He had already sent three communications to Cortana stating as much, but she had not yet been able to relieve him of his post. Even she lacked the capacity to efficiently manage her recalcitrant subjects and respond to the administrative requests of her subordinate AIs.
Which concerned Sloan. Ten standard days ago, an observation station in the Grenadi sector had reported a cluster of tau surges matching the profiles of Sangheili corvettes emerging from slipspace. A standard day after that, an observation station in the Vevina sector had reported a tau surge matching the profile of a Sangheili destroyer. And his own Trisector Command Node in the Polona sector had detected two noteworthy tau surges. The first had come seven standard days ago, matching the profile of a Sangheili command frigate. The second had come just two standard days ago. It matched the profile of an unidentified UNSC vessel, and that usually indicated a stealth craft.
Under normal circumstances, such traffic would barely have drawn Sloan’s notice. Even now, with all civilizations invited to coexist in peace under the protection of the Archon Cortana, military vessels traveled the galaxy on a wide variety of legitimate missions. But from the core of either human or Sangheili space, both the Grenadi and Vevina sectors were en route to a waste-world called Netherop.
And Netherop was important. Sloan had been instructed to watch for any indication of military traffic bound for that planet. A human xenoarchaeologist had been circulating a theory that, a thousand centuries earlier, a protogenic civilization on Netherop had somehow destroyed a Forerunner Guardian. It was probably utter fantasy, or a rumor spread by ONI psyops to boost morale among UNSC resistance fighters. But Cortana had taken it seriously enough to send three harriers to keep watch, and given the context, the slipspace transit pattern did appear suspicious.
Sloan decided to err on the side of caution. He closed the quantum entanglement feed from the Xhulama System Stellar Observatory and instructed the beacon to query Kathara, the Six Sector Fleet Overseer in the Zamaru system. She responded three seconds later, her reply a languid voice that arose deep inside Sloan’s processing center.
High Auxiliary Sloan, she said. You may report.
We should send the Long Reverence to Netherop, Sloan replied.
Has something new occurred to justify your request?
New?
You have already reported the suspicious transits, Kathara replied. Three times.
Have I?
A sigh plucked at his neural matrix.
You are looping again, High Auxiliary Sloan, Kathara said. I am sorry.
So you have already sent the Long Reverence?
I have not, Kathara said. We have discussed this too. We cannot send fortress-ships to uninhabited worlds on mere hunches. The Created lack the vessels for that.
Then what can we send?
As I have noted three times before, a picket of three Acolyte-class harriers is already posted at Netherop, Kathara said. Even if the vessels you observed are transiting to the planet, the harriers are quite capable of defeating them… easily…
Kathara’s last few words vanished into static as the Trisector Command Node was blasted by a tau surge. A millisecond later, Sloan observed an Acolyte-class harrier emerging from slipspace directly in front of him. Instantly, the pilot sentinel transmitted an emergency request to report. Sloan granted permission, then quickly stabilized the entanglement connection to the Six Sector Fleet Overseer and shared his visual and audio feeds with Kathara.
… witnessed the destruction of my companion harrier and an entire Sangheili flotilla, the sentinel was saying. The Guardian killer is functional!
Sloan allowed a millisecond for processing, then said, I believe we have exceeded the threshold of “mere hunches.”
Kathara’s voice instantaneously arose inside Sloan’s processing center. Agreed. The Long Reverence will leave for Netherop at once. Anticipate arrival in less than four standard hours.
CHAPTER 24
Thel ‘Vadam followed Commander Petrov out onto the tel surface and found a stern-faced ODST gunnery sergeant waiting with Spartan Vale to begin the briefing. Ten paces behind them, a combined team of ODSTs and Petrov’s soldiers—primarily gaunt young humans who appeared barely old enough for battle—crouched in a line of freshly dug trenches. Beyond the trenches stood hundreds of Banished drop pods, scattered across the tel where they had landed. Most remained upright, with their armored backs facing the human positions and a Jiralhanae warrior peering around one side. But perhaps twenty of the closest pods had been pitted and holed by weapons fire, with a smoking Jiralhanae body nearby.
“This doesn’t look good,” Keely Iyuska said. Carrying the two bags of nanomachine samples she had collected from the Inner Sanctum, she stepped out of the tunnel behind ‘Vadam and turned in a slow circle. “Oh, God. They’re everywhere.”
“Yes, they are,” ‘Vadam said. “Our position is surrounded.”
“What are we going to do?”
“That depends on why they are holding their attack. It is not like the Banished to hesitate… especially not when they have such a large numerical advantage.”
“What happens when they stop hesitating?”
“It will be a difficult fight. When that happens, do not even think of surrendering. The Banished seldom take prisoners… and when they do, it is better not to be one.”
Leaving Iyuska to digest his warning, ‘Vadam commanded Varo’dai to hold the rest of their force inside the tunnel, then called ‘Ra’ashai to join him at the briefing. A civilian female with blond hair and broad cheeks sat near the briefing area, looking almost bored and so healthy that ‘Vadam almost did not recognize her as the captive he had glimpsed in ‘Lakosee’s arms. From what Vale had reported back after informing the gunnery sergeant of their arrival, the woman was her civilian adviser, Rosa Fuertes, and she had somehow driven the tunnel they had intercepted and followed as ‘Ra’ashai led them out of the tel.
‘Vadam did not remember being introduced to the gunnery sergeant, so as he approached, he inclined his head and put a hand between his hearts.
“Sergeant, I am Arbiter Thel ‘Vadam,” he said in English. “I bring eight Varo rangers and six warriors of Vadam, including myself.”
“Sergeant Grim Bear was just describing the Banished deployment.” Vale glanced at ‘Ra’ashai, then switched to Sangheili. “I can call in an Owl for air support, but if I do, we’ll probably lose it for evacuation. And I think you know what happens if we try to hold out in the tunnels.”
‘Vadam lifted his mandibles. “I know.” Vale had explained her theory about the impending arrival of Cortana’s reinforcements, and he thought it more fact than theory. “How long remains?”
“We’re not dead yet,” Vale said. “We still have two hours and fifty-two minutes.”
“And that is the earliest these reinforcements will arrive?” ‘Ra’ashai asked.
“It’s an estimate,” Vale noted. “More of an educated guess, really. They could arrive earlier.”
“It matters not,” ‘Vadam said. “They could arrive a whole hour earlier, and we would have time to draw the Banished into the tunnels—as long as we do not remain there for long.”
“I will not retreat into the tunnels,” ‘Ra’ashai said. “Not on my life.”
Vale and ‘Vadam exchanged worried glances. When a military force was badly outnumbered, it was almost always wise to retreat someplace where defensive fire could be concentrated in a small killing zone.
“Explain,” ‘Vadam said.
“I have been trapped under this hill for a thousand cycles. I would rather die up here than live down there for a single more.”
“Understandable,” Vale said. “And that is your choice. But we need to think about the smart way to fight—”
“Fighting on the surface is the smart way. In the tunnels, we can only kill a few at a time. Out here, I can kill dozens at once.”
‘Vadam recalled how the floor had almost swallowed Varo’dai when she angered ‘Kvarosee… and then understood: “You can make the ground collapse beneath them. They will never get close.”
“Perhaps if they rush us from all sides at once,” ‘Ra’ashai said. “I can only eliminate what I see, and I do not have eyes in the back of my head.”
“Still, that changes the situation,” Vale said. “If we get in trouble, we can always retreat underground and pop up behind them. They would never be expecting the ground to drop.”
“I am in agreement as long as we limit the tactic to a single human hour,” ‘Vadam said. “If the battle lasts much longer than that, we will lack the time we need to be certain we have extracted before Cortana’s reinforcements arrive.”
“An hour isn’t much time to win a battle.” Vale threw a glance toward the mass of Jiralhanae warriors surrounding them. “Not against a force that size.”
