Outcasts, page 8
Atriox delighted in such reactions. He fostered a reputation for the intolerance of mediocrity—he had personally executed Kallo’s predecessor half a cycle ago, when the threat-analysis station nearly missed the arrival of the Sangheili frigate Sword of Harmony—and he deliberately used his battle-flattened nose, square face, and braided beard to cultivate a fearsome, bare-browed appearance that no other Jiralhanae could match. And on this mission, he would allow—for he could afford—no margin of error.
When the five Seraphs continued to climb toward the flotilla’s hiding place, Atriox turned toward a Banished Sangheili standing at his side. “They are approaching for a close flyby. They have grown even more cautious.”
“It only makes sense, Warmaster.” The Banished’s foremost expert on all things Forerunner, Eto ‘Saljhoo had long wrinkles over his brows, watery gray eyes, and a set of mandibles that never quite closed. He pointed to the trio of corvettes climbing out of medium orbit. “They just spent the better part of a cycle clearing mines, and now they are taking defensive stations in orbit. The Sangheili are preparing to send down their expedition.”
“There are still some mines in orbit.” Atriox ran a hand down his long beard braids. “It would only take another twenty units to finish the task. Why stop now?”
“Perhaps they have grown as weary of waiting as our own warriors have,” ‘Saljhoo replied. Although they had been watching the Sangheili clear mines for three-quarters of a cycle, the Banished flotilla had been hiding on Neska’s smallest moon even longer. For more than a cycle and a half they had been waiting in comm silence for the untrustworthy human woman Keely Iyuska to show herself, and even Atriox was beginning to doubt she would. “The shell cannot be very dense at this point.”
“It is dense enough,” Atriox growled. He turned to the signals listener. “Any warnings from the decoys?”
The listener, a grizzled warrior with the tips of two broken tusks showing above his lip, turned his head in the negative. “I would tell you immediately, Warmaster. The decoys remain comm silent.”
Atriox grunted an acknowledgment. Just reaching Neska had required a complicated, time-consuming operation that he would never have undertaken, had it not been so important to his plans for Zeta Halo.
The first step had been sending a reconnaissance yawl to the edge of the Ephyra system to listen for any supraluminal transmission beacons that might be dispatching periodic status confirmation messages to one of Cortana’s listening stations. The yawl had identified only one, transmitting on an interval of five cycles, and Atriox had been careful to launch his operation immediately after the most recent signal.
Then, upon entering the system with his full operational flotilla, he had sent a trio of karves on a slingshot maneuver around Neska, hoping to draw off any sentinels that Cortana might have watching the planet. Two of the vessels had emerged trailing gravitic anomalies that were almost certainly cloaked harriers. Now the decoys were skulking the outer reaches of the system, laying mines, dropping beacons, and doing everything possible to hold the interest of their stalkers. They would break comm silence only if the harriers stopped following them, but Atriox knew that would be sooner than he liked. The diversion could not work forever.
Next had come the tricky part. After luring the two harriers away, Atriox used his stealth flagship, the drekar Hammer of Fate, to isolate Neska’s planetary system, destroying the supraluminal transmission beacon that his reconnaissance yawl had identified earlier… and a roving harrier that had exposed itself by coming to investigate. Only then had the flotilla entered orbit and eliminated the dozens of communications and reconnaissance satellites that had been abandoned during the much-earlier battles between the Covenant and the United Nations Space Command.
It had been tedious work, but necessary. Eliminating the satellites was the only way to be certain none of them harbored any AI watchers, who would have little trouble slipping aboard a departing vessel and remaining hidden until the opportunity came to alert Cortana to events on Neska.
But none of that explained the sudden burst of activity from the Sangheili fleet. Something had changed, and he could not see what.
Yet.
Atriox spoke to the signals listener again. “You have been monitoring the comms traffic between Sangheili vessels?”
“Yes, Warmaster. There is little else for me to do. It is filled with orders from the Sword of Harmony, most recently from the Arbiter himself.”
‘Saljhoo gasped. “What?! The Arbiter is here?!” Without awaiting an answer, he turned to Atriox. “That explains everything. He has grown weary of waiting and kicked the boulder down the hill.”
“Perhaps,” Atriox mused. He was assuming that the Arbiter had arrived half a cycle ago aboard the Sword of Harmony—which seemed a safe guess, given that was the vessel where the orders were coming from. “If he is in a hurry now, it must be that he knows something we do not.”
“Are you suggesting a Guardian…?” ‘Saljhoo asked. “How could the Arbiter know of that?”
“It is not a Guardian.” The speaker was Tovarus, an amber-eyed Jiralhanae who was Atriox’s second-in-command for this mission. He stepped over to the tactical holograph and stood behind ‘Saljhoo. “If the Sangheili thought a Guardian was coming, they would already be fleeing Neska, not trying to reach its surface.”
“Cortana would not send a Guardian here,” Atriox said. As he had seen firsthand, Guardians were designed to subjugate worlds; using one to chase off a small fleet of vessels would be overkill, and Cortana’s complement of Guardians was already too small for her needs. Besides, she was too wise to risk losing one to the same weapon that had destroyed a Guardian during the Forerunners’ time—the same weapon that Atriox was here to recover. “She would send her own fleet.”
“You are correct, Warmaster,” Tovarus said. “Yet we arrived a cycle and a half ago. That is when our risk of discovery was highest—when we were busy conducting operations. Had one of her sentinels slipped away or transmitted an alert without us noticing, her fleet would be here by now, would it not?”
As Tovarus uttered the word transmitted, ‘Saljhoo’s mandibles began to work back and forth. Atriox allowed the irritating grinding to continue for a few moments, then finally demanded, “Why are you doing that?”
‘Saljhoo stilled his face. “Apologies, Warmaster—I am merely in thought. A transmission is not the only way a signal would draw Cortana’s attention to Neska. The lack of a signal would too.”
“You are thinking of the transmission beacon we destroyed?” Atriox asked.
“Just so. It was certainly active when we arrived, so an AI somewhere will be expecting a periodic status confirmation.”
“But not for three more cycles,” Atriox said. Because it required so much energy to send a supraluminal signal, transmission beacons sent status reports infrequently, at well-spaced intervals. “Is that enough time?”
“I would hope so,” ‘Saljhoo said. “If we find the correct site quickly, and the transmission interval is not randomized.”
“Randomized?” Atriox growled. ‘Saljhoo had wanted to examine the transmission beacon before it was destroyed, claiming he could not be certain of its design and capabilities until he inspected the energy core. He made a similar claim before any Forerunner artifact was destroyed, and Atriox tried to accommodate him whenever possible. This time, however, there had been too much risk that the studymaster’s tampering would trigger an automatic transmission. “Did the reconnaissance yawl not measure five cycles between transmissions twice in a row?”
“Your memory is accurate, as always, Warmaster. I only worry that twice is statistically uncertain. The interval could still be—”
“It is not random.” Atriox had seen—and benefited from—enough flukes to know the studymaster was technically correct. But a warmaster who attacked only when he was certain of success was a warmaster who never attacked at all. “Providing the Sangheili do not find the site before us, we still have three cycles. Is that enough time?”
‘Saljhoo fell silent and looked away. Atriox would not have allowed such hesitation to anyone else, but the studymaster’s unique value lay in his ability to think and recall esoteric trifles that no one else in the Banished even knew. ‘Saljhoo required time to work, and Atriox had learned through long experience that the old Sangheili usually delivered the best results when it was permitted.
But after a dozen breaths, Atriox grew impatient. The harriers could discover his decoy ruse at any moment. If that happened, they would return to Neska, see the Sangheili flotilla, and summon help from the Apparition. Then Atriox would have to abandon his plan, for he did not have the strength to confront her directly—not without the Guardian-killing weapon he had come to recover.
Even worse, Atriox might not even realize his ruse had failed until an Apparition fleet arrived to attack him. With their stealth capabilities, harriers could be even more difficult to track than UNSC prowlers, and the possibility of one slipping away from its decoy and returning to Neska undetected was significant.
And it grew more significant each passing day.
“I will not await an answer any longer,” Atriox warned. “I require one now.”
‘Saljhoo finally lifted his gaze again. “Our best chance of finding the trikala still lies in waiting for the human Keely Iyuska.”
Trikala was the code name ‘Saljhoo had bestowed on the Guardian-killing weapon they had come to recover. It referred to a three-bladed spear wielded by a nameless god venerated by the Silent Shadow during the Age of Seven Worlds. Atriox had little interest in the Sangheili’s pre-Covenant history, so the only other thing he recalled was the reason the mythic weapon had three blades: to rive the mind, body, and spirit… in the past, present, and future.
Atriox gnashed his tusks, then finally accepted that ‘Saljhoo was not going to temper his assertion. “Why doesn’t the Arbiter share your reluctance? Clearly, he is not waiting.”
“Let him start his excavations. It will make no difference if his expedition does not know where to dig.”
Kallo, the threat-analysis overseer, suddenly turned toward Atriox. “Trajectory confirmed, Warmaster. Five Seraphs inbound to our position—we estimate close inspection range in forty-two centals.”
“I have heard.” Atriox turned to the Hammer’s Sangheili comm controller. “Inform the shipmasters. Have all karves come to ready status, but weapons and drives are to remain cold until the Hammer of Fate activates.”
There was a small chance that their sudden flurry of point-to-point communications would result in a detectable signal bleeding out from beneath the cloaking umbrella, but the risk had to be taken. To minimize the flotilla’s electromagnetic emissions profile, the Hammer of Fate was the only vessel under the concealment cloak monitoring space around Neska.
As the comm controller relayed the command, Atriox turned back to ‘Saljhoo. “If the Seraphs discover us, we will have no choice but to eliminate the entire Sangheili fleet and undertake the search ourselves.”
“If it comes to that, I believe it would be wiser to withdraw. Without Iyuska, our chance of locating the trikala before Cortana realizes we are here is… incalculably small.”
“I do not see why. In the past, you have always been good at finding what we seek.”
“Because I am a student of Forerunner culture, and we were always seeking Forerunner artifacts,” ‘Saljhoo said. “The trikala seems undoubtedly pre-Forerunner. I have no clue what it might look like, much less where to start looking for it.”
“Then how can you know that it exists?” Tovarus asked.
“You saw the holograph yourself,” ‘Saljhoo said. “How can you doubt that it does?”
Atriox knew of the holographic video the studymaster referred to, which had been recovered during their time on the Ark. Recorded from the cockpit of a Phaeton fighter, it showed a luminous bolt erupting from a lush world of indigo oceans and turquoise jungles to enwrap a Forerunner Guardian. In the record, the Guardian quickly began to fall toward the planet, then disintegrated into shards, dropping through the atmosphere in a spiraling tangle of smoky columns. It had been enough to convince Atriox that the trikala was real—and just the weapon he needed to defeat Cortana.
“That only proves the trikala once existed,” Tovarus said. “How can we be certain it is still so?”
“Because what the Forerunners feared does not die,” ‘Saljhoo replied. “The Flood is proof enough of that—or have you forgotten Voridus’s folly at High Charity?”
“No one has forgotten that,” Atriox said. A talented but impulsive tinkerer, Voridus had nearly unleashed an infestation of the ancient parasite on the entire Ark, after entering the crashed and ruined Covenant space station against Atriox’s order. “But it does not mean the trikala has endured.”
“I cannot guarantee it,” ‘Saljhoo admitted. “But there must be a good chance, or Cortana would not have sent three harriers to watch over it.”
Atriox snorted. “And I would never have decided to recover it.” He looked at the overhead for a moment, thinking, then finally returned his gaze to ‘Saljhoo. “We cannot wait for Iyuska forever—especially when we cannot be sure that she will even come.”
“She will come,” ‘Saljhoo said. “It is too important to her. Confirming her theory would make her the foremost protogenic scholar in the human colonies.”
“I would have more trust in that, had you not needed to hire an Oath Warden to hunt her down.”
“And had I not needed to hire the Oath Warden in the first place, I would not be so certain. Iyuska is risking her life by breaking our agreement. She would only do so if she believes that the trikala endured—and that it belongs in human hands.”
A rumble of amusement rose into Atriox’s chest. “That is the folly of humans—so many of them cannot understand that a thing only belongs to the one who takes it.” He turned back to the tactical holograph and studied the approaching Seraphs. “But if that patrol penetrates our cloaking umbrella, waiting for Iyuska will no longer be an option.”
“I fail to see why,” ‘Saljhoo said. “How long could it take to eliminate such a small Sangheili fleet?”
“Your confidence is refreshing.” Atriox continued to watch the tactical holograph. “I am not concerned about the size of the Sangheili fleet or its capabilities. The simple truth is a battle that large would be difficult to hide from the—”
Atriox fell silent when the approaching Seraphs turned away from the holographic moon and accelerated toward an empty area above Neska’s far horizon. An instant later, a fog of blue letters and numbers—the symbols for quantum particles—appeared in the image. They were rising from behind the planet, in the same location toward which the Seraphs were traveling.
Atriox shifted his gaze toward Kallo and his threat operators, then pointed toward the fog of symbols. “Those particles. What are they?”
“Pions and neutrinos.” Kallo gulped down a mouthful of nervous saliva. “They are the product of hadronic decay. That is—”
“I know what hadronic decay is. The branching faction, what is it?”
“Just under sixty-five percent. We’re seeing tau decay. We did not see the surge because it was hidden behind the planet.”
“But not from the Sangheili.” At least Atriox now knew what they had seen that he at first had not—a tau surge indicated something emerging from slipspace. “What has arrived?”
Kallo looked to his threat-analysis operators, who continued to study displays and tap touch pads. Atriox did not ask again, knowing he would only delay the response if he kept breaking their concentration.
Finally, the Kig-Yar operator looked up. “It is difficult to say, Warmaster. We are receiving no sensor readings from the vicinity of the decay cloud, but the particle density suggests UNSC technology, and the trajectory alterations of the approaching Seraphs suggests something within the mass of a light cruiser.”
“Perhaps a stealth cruiser, then,” Atriox said.
“Finally.” ‘Saljhoo let out his breath in relief, then turned to Atriox. “The human, Keely Iyuska, has arrived.”
“Apparently. And with enough UNSC marines to keep whatever she finds.”
‘Saljhoo’s mandibles sagged open a bit more than usual, but Atriox’s thoughts had already turned to Kallo and the threat-analysis station’s failure to detect the tau surge as quickly as had the Sangheili. True, the arriving vessel had emerged from slipspace on the far side of Neska, and the world’s mass would have made detection difficult.
But many of the surge particles would have been neutrinos, most of which would have passed through the planet unimpeded… and the analysis operators should at least have detected that.
How disappointing. Atriox had not expected to need a new overseer quite so soon.
CHAPTER 7
From atop the rim of the vast crater, the distant hill seemed to be floating on a lake of refracted light. Sometimes, the “lake” appeared blue, until a heat shimmer rippled across it and the color changed to green. Or yellow. Or orange. Even a deep ruby red. Then another shimmer would come, and it would suddenly turn indigo. Or violet. Purple, as dark as night.
Thel ‘Vadam had visited many hot, arid worlds and seen mirages of many differing hues, but never one that cycled through the color spectrum like this. Nor one so bright that its glare reflected off the brown clouds overhead. Then again, he had never stood on the surface of a world as blazingly hot as N’ba. Not without a fire harness.
The color-shifting mirage was only one of the reasons they had elected to begin their investigations here. The hill in the center of the crater was actually a tel, a mound of detritus where one city had been built atop the ruins of another for millennia. Ghe ‘Talot’s topological survey had found thousands of similar tels all over N’ba, but only this one was surrounded by a basin of radar-absorbing terrain that could not be imaged. Add to that its location on the equator, where a weapon emplacement would have a clear firing lane into every pocket of surrounding space as the planet rotated, and it seemed the obvious place to begin their search for the Guardian killer.
