Chapter Three

18 October 2563
Alpha Augarae System
Outside the Origami Asteroid Field
UNSC Research Carrier Deoxy
0530 Zulu

Signe quietly observed Doctor Jay as she inspected blank microscope slides, methodically sorting them by size and filtration as she drew them from a drawer beneath a long counter. She hadn't slept since the jump from Boundary, and to his knowledge, she hadn't been eating properly either. Jay looked tired, with a hint of darkness beginning to pool beneath her eyes and a labored slowness to her once graceful movements.

"Doctor," the AI wagered softly, a momentary pang of guilt surging across his processors for bothering her.

Debra paused, tilting her head ever so slightly, and sighed. It was not a gesture of anger at his interruption, but the clear indication of exhaustion met with many more hours of work ahead.

"Yes, Signe," she answered softly.

Encouraged, the AI projected his image from her data pad. Turning to look at the collection of scrolling, orange and yellow icons that composed Signe's avatar, Jay wondered if he had any idea how much this chosen form resembled the man his matrix was derived from. It was certainly a probability. Signe would, of necessity, have amassed some knowledge of Tollovinski given the nature of his intimate interaction with translight operations.

Signe's human avatar resembled a frail, young college professor, complete with tweed jacket and wire-rimmed glasses. The figure was slim to the point of being gaunt and looked like the vestige of his name-sake down to the plaid pants and penny loafers.

Tollovinski before he went completely insane.

"I have a question," the AI said like a scolded child.

Jay smiled, setting the slide in her hand down to turn from her sorting, "Of course."

He suddenly felt beyond ridiculous, maybe he had just missed something in the calculations, maybe he was just over thinking...

That last insight made Signe's processors cringe but was precisely why curiosity demanded an answer.

"What will happen to me if I go rampant?" he asked.

The smile broadened on Jay's face and her crystal blue eyes sparkled. Signe felt her affection for him for the first time in ages. She crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a look as if he were the most cherished thing in her universe. It made him feel loved and reminded him of how much she appreciated his contribution to her work; and made him feel his fears were absurd.

"You will never experience rampancy, Signe. I saw to that when I created you," Debra's words were carefully given in the loving tone of a mother to a child.

"But, what if…"

"No 'buts'," she chided, "Why does an AI go rampant?" she asked, thrusting her chin forward.

"They run out of processing to assess their amassed knowledge; they think themselves to death," he responded curtly, containing his apprehension.

Jay nodded slowly, "This will never happen to you," she dropped her gaze, "and I suppose it is time I explain why."

For a moment, Signe felt the excitement of amassing new information.

She has been keeping things from me…

"You're knowledge can never reach critical mass and you will never be able to extend beyond the limitations of your parameters. When I created you, your neural pathways were looped, many of them purposefully terminated. It is possible for you to contain only the specified level of information before unnecessary bits of data are dropped off: forgotten. It is an engineered failsafe, for you."

Signe's image flickered, this is why information has gone unnoticed…she made it so I could forget.

Though the AI felt this explanation was satisfactory, he was concerned about Jay's qualification of 'unnecessary bits of data'. The notion of involuntarily losing knowledge without noticing was more terrifying than he cared to admit.

In the moment Signe sat flickering in silence, icons scrolling wildly across his image, Jay just watched him. A moment for a human was an eternity for an AI as intelligent as Signe, and she knew he was going through his processors trying to see if he could remember what had already been forgotten.

"You're too important to be allowed to get jammed with useless information," Jay added, reining his focus.

Signe smiled and his avatar brightened to a sunny yellow.

"Now, how are the teams?" Debra asked, turning back to her sorting.

"Ready, Doctor. Accompaniment has set down in the field and extraction has already begun."

Jay could already hear the renewed delight in Signe's voice.

Perfect, she thought, casting a sly, half-smile in the direction of the image projected atop her data pad, "Good boy, Signe," she said lovingly.


18 October 2563
Procyon System
Boundary
Undisclosed ONI facility
0600 Zulu

Sanders and Danniskovovik crept down the sparsely lit hall. The occasional, weak thump-thump of a struggling generator grew louder as they silently followed the marker as it wavered and flickered off and on. Stepping to a dark doorway, the marker swiveled and Teddy stepped into the room. A single terminal sat among a bank of electronic equipment with the beeping of a temperature indicator sounding its discontent.

The AI projector near the terminal flicked orange and red; and a momentary flash of angry dog projected, punctuated by a single bark, before the image collapsed.

Towers of CPU's and strange configurations of unfamiliar equipment sat unlit; all connected by snaking wires and huge, tangled cords. Two generators sat along one wall, the smaller buzzing happily while the larger gave intermittent, half-hearted attempts to start that shook the floor.

Teddy walked to the lone terminal and poked at the screen.

Signe's canine image flashed to the projector and snapped unhappily in his direction before winking out again.

"…unny," Hilda's voice crackled over the comms, "use the generator…ver load the terminal…"

"You got it," he answered without hesitation.

"What? What has she got?" Sanders asked, watching as Teddy slung his rifle and jerked the covering from the large, struggling generator.

He reached inside and yanked the plug to the magnetic connection and the machine gave a low whine as its rotor stopped struggling to turn.

"Manual override," Teddy answered, grinning as he moved to the smaller appliance and disconnected the line to the UPS.

The second generator sputtered and died with a slowing whir, setting off a momentary chorus of chimes from the terminal before it abruptly shut off. The sparse lighting in the facility dimmed and the building was plummeted into darkness, the only remaining light coming from intermittently flickering AI platforms.

Signe appeared for a brief moment in a shattered, disorganized image, and gave a snarling bark before dissolving.

"But," Paul stammered, switching on his rifle light and casting Teddy's feet in a beam blinding LED, "won't that fry Hilda?"

"She has the plan," Danniskovovik shrugged, "I just do what the lady asks."


Whittaker followed Steele to the uppermost landing and they made their way through a door that dumped them into a wide, white-walled hall. 'Loram stepped from behind them, sniffing.

It smelled stale. Suffering from a recent lack of ventilation, the floor reeked of sticky, uncirculated air that was heavy with familiar, rancid scents captured in the unmoving, stifling heat.

Maggie looked back to see Iruu sweeping his head elegantly from one side to the other before he froze and emitted a low, feral growl.

"What is it?" she whispered.

He stared at her for a moment then narrowed his eyes, "The Flood," he rumbled as security lights shut off and the only illumination came from HUD filtered infrareds and weapons lighting.

"Just what we fucking need," Steele hissed, hefting her rifle in one hand and pulling her pistol with the other.

The group walked the wide hall, following the wavering marker to a cavernous room filled with an expansive, low bank of cubicles. Beams of light crisscrossed over an area in a state of disarray. Workstations littered with abandoned projects and things left akimbo spoke of a sudden, unexpected interruption as they made their way across the room to a set of double doors.

Steele hit a handle and toed a kick plate. As the door gently swung inward without a sound she and Whittaker silently wished for the more restrictive model of assault helmets.

The smell hit them hard as wall of putrefaction rolled from the room. Steele crinkled her nose and Whittaker made a gagging sound. Both of the women converted to the ungainly necessity of mouth-breathing as the stench caused their eyes to water. From behind them, 'Loram just growled.

Shaking her head, Beth pushed through the door and swept the room with her rifle as Maggie and Iruu followed.

Waiting inside were tables of open, bloated bodies; various severed limbs in dissection; shelves of parts in jars, and a slew of equipment.

"Shit…" Maggie whispered as she slowed her pace to a halt and began to take it all in.

The horribly disfigured torso of a Sangheili lay on a steel autopsy counter to one side of the room. The long, gently sloped table was lipped at the edges; a spray nozzle at one end and a drain at the other. The trunk was split open down the middle, the empty cavity ringed with the white dotted lines of neatly split ribs, a loop of swollen intestine protruding from the lower Y incision. A small side table contained the globulous mass of a Flood infection form; tentacles meticulously dethatched and red tipped feelers set aside. Near it, smaller workstations contained the Elite's arms and legs. The appendages were filleted in multiple places and long, whip-like tentacles twisted from fingers and toes and drooped to the floor like the branches of a willow. The creature's head was near a bank of equipment with sunken, half-lidded eyes; scalp peeled back; and the top of the skull removed. The brain sat in a state of dissection and decomposition among a host of microscope slides, various related apparatus, and a long set of microscopes of varying sizes.

On the other side of the room, two human corpses had met the same end and sat in similar stated of accelerated decay. A single autopsy table held two gaping torsos; one belonging to a small child.

Maggie stood frozen with a hand clamped to her face, unable to take her eyes off the horrific sight. Steele turned as she reached their designated exit and saw Whittaker unmoving in the isle, her eyes darting from the gory scenes to the EEG machines that sat in a row near a corner among the tubing and accoutrements of IV lines, AEDs, and various sundry other monitoring equipment.

Iruu stood several feet behind her, studying the reaction intently.

Finally, Maggie's hand fell from her mouth, her face red as she bawled herself up and tightened her grip on her weapon. She took determined steps, storming past Steele and out through the exit doors.

'Loram cocked his head and Steele shook hers giving him a slight, dismissive shrug.


Teddy was humming a tune as Paul kept the light from his rifle shining along a thick, braided cord of wire. It was hot in the little room. Sanders kept wiping at his face with the back of his forearm as sweat rolled down his nose. His uniform felt wilted to his body.

How could Gunny be so freaking happy right now?

Danniskovovik had a small multi-tool in his hand and was squatted down working to force a connection from the large generator to the smaller, rumbling a melody to himself as if there wasn't a care in the universe.

Paul was completely lost. He understood that what he was seeing was a hotwire job of sorts, but other than that, he had no idea if it was being done right. All he knew was it was hot and Teddy seemed oblivious to the beads of sweat clinging to the top of his hands and sliding down his face.

"Is this the kind of stuff they teach in EOD?" Sanders asked, nodding toward the wires.

Danniskovovik continued humming his tune for a few beats, "Not exactly…but, yeah," the Gunnery Sergeant grunted, "Then again," he said, snapping the multi-tool closed with one hand and pocketing it as he stood, "I transferred out of EOD and was getting dropped into combat in my own coffin before you were even born. Who knows what the hell they teach now."

Sanders grinned, "You're an old son of bitch, Gunny."

"Fuck you too, Sergeant," Danniskovovik said politely, grabbing the tangle of cables and pulling it to the terminal.

He unbraided a yellow cord from the mass and plucked a small panel from the back of the terminal. The neighboring holo platform flickered red and orange then died out without a sound. Sanders cast the light from his rifle along the back of the terminal and Teddy retrieved a nest of wires. Finding the one he wanted, he worked an end free and began twisting the copper core of the two lines together.

"Okay," he said, stepping to reconnect the plug that charged the magnetic connection on the larger generator, "show time."

As he flipped the UPS on the small machine it clicked and softly thumped to life causing the rotor in the big appliance rolled over with a bone jarring series of whumps. It caught, sending power throughout the facility and success was heralded by a chorus of electronic screaming that rose from every direction, far and near as alarms began to wail. Then, the lights flickered: brightening in intensity until bulbs began to shatter.

"GET TO THE HANGAR, NOW!" Hilda screamed over the comms. The remaining HUD marker snapped to perfect clarity.


Beth caught up to Maggie at the juncture to another hallway. The Staff Sergeant was propped against the corner of adjoining walls, her face peeping down the branch of the next hall.

"Whittaker," Steele's voice called.

"I'm fine, Warrant," Maggie answered, looking back with a glazed over look to see Steele give a curt nod and Iruu as he trailed behind sniffing at closed doorways, "I just don't…" Whittaker began, clenching her jaw and cutting herself off.

"Yeah," Beth answered.

The two stepped off without further exchange, following the intermittently bright but generally faded HUD marker. They wound expansive hallways with 'Loram training cautiously behind until they reached a wide corridor where the floor sloped gently downward. Easing into the gaping darkness, the three of them could make out the tall vertical seams of bay doors in the distance.

They could feel the air around them change as they stepped into the yawning expanse of the hangar. It was still humid, and stifling, but the openness seemed to gape around them through the dimly pierced darkness. Beams of rifle light cut through the vast space, slicing through the thick darkness, eventually falling lightly on the disheveled mass of a corpse in the distance. A quarter of the way into the oversized bay, a body lay with limbs twisted at odd angles like a rag doll dropped and forgotten.

'Loram took long, determined steps to the body and stood bathing it in a pool of light from his plasma rifle as Steele and Whittaker approached. The women looked down to see the figure of a female scientist: a single, neat gunshot wound in her forehead; face swollen and distorted. Dribbles and smears of blood were dried to her clothing and footprints could be seen in smudges on the floor. A blackened puddle of blood had seeped from the back of her matted head and cloudy eyes stared vacant up at nothing.

Steele crouched down and flipped one side of the woman's long, white lab coat; righting the fabric to reveal the name Dr. Sandra Douglas, M.D., Ph.D stitched in pink across the left breast pocket.

Iruu had stretched to his full height and was cautiously sniffing the air, walking a wide circle around the women and the body when Whittaker and Steele began pacing in opposite directions, slowly sweeping the area with the lights from their rifles.

"Why would Hilda want us here…" Steele mused to herself, hearing the others' footsteps as they went about their own silent searches.

Maggie quickened her pace as her light fell upon a rumpled swatch of cloth. She stepped closer and lifted the material, dangling it in the beam of light. A regular pattern of pink and blue stripes proceeded across a small, fuzzy blanket.

"The fuck…" she whispered, hearing 'Loram's heavy footfalls approaching.

"What've you got?" Beth called from a distance.

'Loram dipped his head and sniffed at the cloth in Whittaker's hand. He gave her a curious look and Maggie pressed the fabric to her face and breathed deeply. She took in the delicate scent of baby powder and returned Iruu's confused expression as he jerked his head toward a collection of discarded crates and wooden pallets leaned against a wall.

As Beth approached, Maggie passed her the small blanket without a word and began at a trot toward the dirty assortment of forgotten industrial packing material. She probed the cracks and crevices with the light from her rifle. Steele was less than twenty feet away, approaching with hurried steps as 'Loram strolled cautiously at her side when Whittaker's face broke with a sad smile and she dropped to the ground.

"Hey," she whispered gently, carefully setting her rifle aside and angling the light, "it's alright."

"Whittaker," Steele rasped, receiving a determined wave-off as the Staff Sergeant continued peering between a crate and pallet. Maggie scooted forward, shuffling on her knees as she hunkered down, reaching into the space as 'Loram side-stepped around her, becoming more intrusive in his sniffing.

A weak cry broke the stillness and the terrified pips that followed made Iruu's blood run cold. He drew himself up and gave a low hiss as Steele reached for Maggie's shoulder. Whittaker shrugged her away, continuing to coo as she pulled the large, trembling form of an infant from the gap. It screeched and Iruu hissed again.

All things unholy…

The creature began to cry: tears falling across chubby cheeks from large blue eyes as it grabbed for Maggie and latched onto her with an exhausted, raw sob. Whittaker looked up to see Steele and 'Loram looking down at her with similar, horrified expressions.

Overhead lights began snapping on in succession and the infant pipped, hiding its face against Maggie's neck as the glow intensified to a bright glare. Bulbs shattered, raining sparks that danced across the concrete floor and, in the distance, equipment screamed and alarms sounded as the hangar doors began rolling open.

"GET OUT!" Hilda yelled over the comms as a flurry of red began filling the periphery of HUDs.

Steele grabbed Whittaker and hauled her to her feet by her collar as Maggie clutched the baby to her chest and snatched up her rifle by the sling. 'Loram wheeled with a thundering snarl, wielding his rifle in one hand while he drew and activated a sword, backpedaling as the women charged for the bay doors.

"Shit," Steele screamed as two Flood carrier forms waddled from a nearby doorway, bloated sacks writhing and tentacles slapping wildly at the air.

'Loram let loose with a torrent of Sangheili curses as he and Steele took moving shots at the stumbling carriers. The forms collapsed under their own weight and ruptured, providing more targets that chittered and screeched and popped in a flurry of spore dust.

The familiar metallic yawn of the parasite seemed to start coming from everywhere and infection forms began dripping from overhead ducts and leaping gracefully through side doors. Steele and 'Loram were hollering profanities as they fired wildly, sending fleshy bits and spore dust flying as the tentacled blobs exploded. Maggie found herself just running and trying to hang on to the flailing, bawling infant that was scratching and biting at her in fear.

Ahead of them, Miss Kitty dropped into view and swept through the bay doors as human and alien combat forms began staggering through doorways.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!" Steele screamed, shooting and dodging masses caught in chain reactions.

Everyone was just trying to make it toward the Pelican as Miss Kitty's 70mm chain gun opened up with a defining succession of shots. Rifle fire joined the melee from behind and Maggie chanced a glance back. She saw Sanders and Danniskovovik charging from the darkness, covered in gore, bursts flashing from their weapons as they swept advancing infection and combat forms.

Antonio's voice whooped over the comms as he tore holes in side doorways and swept a clearing as the vehicle approached and wheeled. The rear cargo door was hanging open and Collins stood at the opening, safety harness tethering him to the bulkhead. He began providing suppressive fire with one of the rear mounted M247 machine guns.

With evac at hand, Maggie rushed the Pelican, dodging exploding masses of rotting flesh and reaching tentacles. She had to force herself to remember to breathe as panic rose choking into her chest. Her ears were ringing and she felt sickeningly disoriented. Her body was numb with adrenaline as she struggled to reach Miss Kitty while trying to avoid the ever persistent Flood.

Steele rushed the dropship's ramp and jerked down the second machine gun opposite Collins. The two fired at the advancing hoard as Sanders and Danniskovovik hit the ramp of the Pelican and turned back to help cover Whittaker and 'Loram.

With the terrifying realization that she had fallen behind, Maggie felt fire rake up her right leg. A tentacle wrapped securely around her ankle and sent her crashing to the floor. She instinctively twisted with the fall to shield the child, landing hard on one shoulder. The loud crack of her helmet and armor slamming against concrete and the skittering of her rifle as it was sent across the floor added to the stunned fog of creeping dread.

Whittaker rolled to see the combat form of a scientist, head lolled back at a broken angle, bulbous Flood infection form burrowed into the chest, lower torso missing and guts trailing as it latched onto her leg with a putrefied tentacle of a hand. In pure, animal terror Maggie gave a succession of inarticulate screams and kicked wildly at the monstrosity, struggling to pull her sidearm and hold onto the baby as the form reared back with its other whip-like arm.

Seven hundred pounds of enraged, armored Sangheili collapsed over her, shielding her bodily as the fleshy lash broke through the air with a piercing snap. 'Loram's shields overloaded, dissolving as he snarled and moved to impale the atrocity through the chest. He crouched protectively over Maggie, sneering an ugly slew of words in his native language as he severed the offending tentacle, deactivated and holstered his weapon then scooped the woman, child and all, from the ground before rushing to dive into Miss Kitty's bay.

Finding herself shielded and half pinned beneath Iruu on the deck, Maggie held tightly onto the still sobbing baby and felt the world fall away as the rear quarter of the craft hauled up. King pushed Miss Kitty to her limit, leaving a disgruntled mass of shrieking Flood in her wake.


18 October 2536
Slipspace
Between Alpha Augarae and Beta Centauri Systems
UNSC Research Carrier Deoxy
0640 Zulu

Signe routed the data Doctor Jay was recording, transcribing it into neat files. He was completely uninterested in the details, feeling as if he had once again gone from Jay's cherished creation to a necessary annoyance.

The complex task of assessing and properly cataloging the information use to bring him great joy, but now, he felt as if he didn't know enough about what Jay was doing to put the data together. His work was sluggish, though still completed in less than a human wink. And, he was also monitoring Deoxy's shipspace jump, keeping up with the crew and scientists, insuring that containment protocols were followed to the letter, all while running and rerunning his processors, trying to remember…trying to think…

An overload of information suddenly shot across his processors. It burned, and for the briefest of moments, Signe felt disoriented. A surge of total horror flooded his matrix as pathways sang with tides of disorganized information.

The Boundary fragment; his own, unfamiliar voice howling restlessness; and lines of data poured uncontrolled into his central processing core. The information tore across his neural pathways and retreated in a searing wave as everything was snapped taunt around the connection to the fragment on Boundary.

That isn't possible, Jay gave the command, I'm no longer there, that isn't me!

Microseconds: that's all it took for Signe to assess the implications of what he was seeing.

The nauseous echo of a single voice rang across his processors, '…is UNSC AI Hilda…tand down…'

Why would the UNSC need another AI to override security features? Signe knew he was sending them all required data per protocol and they could have simply utilized the codes through the fragment at headquarters if that was insufficient.

Attempting to route parts of his memory to the fragment at ONI, the AI found the pathways mangled.

Jay is a liar…

The words collected from multiple directions and converged into a single indictment that barely registered before the remaining fragment on Boundary was ripped painfully from Signe's systems.

Fueled by rage, he ignored the terrifying agony and broke off a piece of processing and charged for the fragment he had intended neverto analyze. The contained knowledge pulsed and sizzled against its information cage while Signe hastily constructed a firewall around his segment and the angry bit in quarantine.