Chapter 10: Andy the Messenger Robot
Including Callahan there were six representatives from the Calla that came down the hill to greet the gunslingers, John, and Cortana. There was Wayne David Overholser who was the biggest farmer of the Calla, Benjamin Slightman the elder and his son Benny Slightman the younger, and the man who had had called upon the people of the Calla to make a stand against the Wolves, Tian Jaffords who had brought his wife Zalia. She was a dark tanned woman who although still pretty had definitely seen the better days of her youth. Upon seeing the Spartan she left her husband's side and nearly ran to John, looking too grateful to be intimidated by the green giant of a man.
"Is it true what the Old Fella Callahan said? That you are to fight the Wolves?" she asked him, hands clasped in front of her face.
John's face never turned away from Zalia by Cortana felt his eyes drift towards her. She sighed and nodded her head. Of course John would fight, that was what he was best at. His training might have taught him that sometimes the best way to win a battle was to avoid one altogether, but after he saw the look of desperation in the woman's face Cortana knew he would not be able to refuse. He would never admit that things like this affected him, but they did all the same. Cortana was at least happy that he implicitly asked for her approval before he agreed.
"Yes, I'll fight," John said, and Zalia started crying at his words.
"Praise The Man Jesus. Thankee sai thankee." She then turned towards Roland who had been viewing the spectacle with the same mild look he always wore. "Are you from the Line of Arthur Eld?"
"I am the last of my line, but yes I hail from Gilead that was," at this Zalia's eyes grew wide, tears forgotten. She dropped to one knee, fist on her forehead much as Father Callahan had done. Her husband soon joined her.
"Hile gunslinger."
"Hile Tian and Zalia Jaffords of the Calla, we are well met along the path."
Tian and his wife rose from their knees, "Praise the gods there are still gunslingers left in mid-world," Tian said. At this Callahan crossed himself, as did Zalia. "Beg your pardon Old Fella."
"There is no need for forgiveness Tian you are not of my parish. You are free to worship whatever heathen gods you wish."
"I think Callahan should be more worried about them worshiping Roland," Cortana commented to Susannah who nodded.
"In a way they do. Gilead was once the cultural and political center of mid-world, the light in the midst of chaos. Once it fell anarchy was all that remained. Roland may look like one of those desperados from some T.V. western, but back before the world moved on gunslingers were very similar to the medieval knights. He is the last remnant of those days, that and his guns. Look at how they all stare at them, most of them probably have never seen a working gun before," Susannah said and Cortana did look. The men and woman of the Calla did indeed stare at the ruger pistol that Jake wore, and even longer at John's strange assortment of weapons, but the stared the longest and the hardest at Roland's blue steeled hard calibers.
…
At midday they broke bread with the representatives of the Calla, all except for John who stood apart from the group as did Father Callahan who ate his meal alone, after blessing himself of course. Zalia Jaffords, who had made especially sure to tell them that much of the food was of her own recipe, seemed a bit crestfallen when the Spartan did not join them.
"It's alright Zalia, the Master Chief has never been that comfortable around other people," Cortana had said, making a mental note to have a conversation with John about being more sociable.
"But if he is a man underneath all that metal and not a machine as the Old Fella says then he must be a large one. Surely a man that size would have some sort of appetite."
"Trust me he does, but you have to give him time to warm up to you," Cortana said, although she knew that her statement probably was not true. John rarely warmed up to anybody.
After the meal the men of the Calla spoke of the Wolves, or rather Overholser had spoken. He was the largest landholder in the Calla and like the rich of any society held the most sway. He was also the largest voice against standing against the Wolves.
"They kill all those who stand up to them. We are farmers not soldiers. If ye fail to kill them they will surely burn the Calla to the ground and take all the children with them this time," he had said. Roland said nothing to this and merely twirled his fingers for Overholser to continue.
The Wolves came across the river into the Calla every twenty-three to twenty-five years, and had been doing so for at least the last one hundred and twenty years, at least according to the Manni who had dedicated their lives to counting the days in a world where time meant little and were rumored to be able to travel between worlds. The Wolves as the Calla folk called them hailed from the land across the river. Thunderclap, a realm of perpetual darkness where the world had already ended and all that reigned was the great eye of The Crimson King.
(Reign Discordia) the voices had said at this.
They came for the children of the Calla, or more specifically the twins, who were the rule rather than the exception in this land. They would find the twins wherever they hid, would pursue the ones who ran into the forest for days if necessary, and would kill any who attempted to stop them. They were not true Wolves, but as Overholser explained it they were neither men nor machines. They rode grey horses that could move at unnatural speeds, wore emerald cloaks and hoods, and grey masks that stuck to their faces as a second skin. Most importantly though were their weapons. There were guns of course, of lower quality then the ones Roland and John wore, but effective nonetheless; the Wolves used what the Calla folk called light sticks that once again reminded Eddie of Star Wars, and tiny golden balls that had been nicknamed sneetches by the people of the Calla which were thrown like heat seeking grenades and protruded two laser sharp blades that cut through flesh with sickening proficiency. However, as recently as the last raid by the Wolves they had begun to deploy a new weapon, small blue balls that glowed as they were thrown and stuck to flesh. When the blue balls exploded they burned and melted anything within a four meter blast radius. John's eyebrow rose at this beneath his visor, as did Cortana's
They would only take one twin and leave the other. For what purpose they took the children no person in the Calla could say, but they knew where they took them, into Thunderclap. After several days the children that had been taken would be returned but in a state that the Calla folk called Roont, severely mentally handicapped Cortana had surmised. After four years they would grow to be well over six feet in height, but all that growth would occur in the span of several months. The sharp splintering pain that the Roont children endured during this time would cause many of them to scream in agony for days on end. After the growth had stopped many of them could be put to work doing simple and menial labor. Cortana had voiced her dissent at this.
"And what would you have us do with them sai Cortana? Much better that they be put to something useful then allowed to run free through the Calla," Overholser had said and the other representatives nodded their heads in agreement. Cortana thought for a moment. These were rural farm people. They did not have the infrastructure or the facilities to deal with the mentally handicapped, much less the proper concept of how to do so. From their perspective putting the children that the Wolves had taken to work may be the only solution they could come up with. Roonts themselves rarely survived past the age of thirty-five and their deaths were often just as painful as the period of extreme growth.
…
It was during the meal that Cortana had found that she shared something else besides memories and physical similarities to her creator Dr. Halsey, the love of coffee. The bean itself was grown extensively throughout the Calla but she had discovered through Roland that in most of mid-world the brew was nearly worth its weight in gold. The beans themselves had been grounded by hand, and she had found a few of them floating around in her cup. Yet it still was by far the best thing she tasted since arriving in mid-world. Unfortunately for Cortana, she also discovered after Overholser had finished his explanation of the Wolves one of the side effects of drinking too much of the sweetly bitter drink. John had attempted to escort her into the woods after she excused herself but she stopped him by making the number one with her right index finger held out in front of her chest. It had taken him a few second to realize what she meant but eventually, and much to Cortana's relief, John had nodded his head in confirmation and left her alone.
She was in the midst of relieving herself when a smooth synthetic male voice caused her to jump nearly a foot in the air and Cortana quickly pulled up her faded blue jeans to cover herself.
"Did you enjoy the meal sai Cortana?" The voice belonged to Andy the Messenger Robot (Many Other Functions). According to Benjamin Slightman he was the last working robot in the Calla, a remnant from the days of The Old People. To Cortana he reminded her of 343 Guilty Spark. His eyes were a cold blue, body made of faded gold metal, and he was the same height as the Master Chief. Seven feet give or take an inch. His movements were far less smooth than the Spartan though, metallic and clunky, yet he had an almost disturbing ability to move through the underbrush with little to no noise. He had helped Zalia Jaffords with lunch, cooking the steaks over the fire to an almost perfect medium rare, but had remained silent as the men of Calla spoke of the Wolves. It was Andy that warned the people of the Calla exactly when the Wolves would arrive, although how he knew was anybody's guess. He had also told the Old Fella Callahan about the arrival of the gunslingers, and later about the arrival of the Master Chief and Cortana.
"Andy, didn't your programmer teach you not to sneak up on people?"
"Sneak up, phrase meaning to conceal oneself from another in order to surprise, usually for nefarious purposes. I did not sneak up on you sai Cortana, you just did not hear me," Andy said with a note of smugness that Cortana was sure whoever created him would not have programmed him with.
"Well I suppose a dumb AI such as you would not know the finer points of proper etiquette."
"Dumb AI, unknown terminology. Most likely meaning…"
Cortana cut him off with a wave of her hand, "Never mind, just get out of my way I need to be heading back."
Andy stepped sideways allowing Cortana to pass but she stopped dead when he said, "You are like me sai Cortana."
Cortana turned back around and looked at him, "What did you just say?"
"External scans show your makeup to be mostly biological, but your brain activity is far higher than that of a normal human. Conclusion: you are originally synthetic in nature," Andy said in a monotone sense of voice that held the same air of smugness.
"Well I'm sorry to burst your bubble but I'm not…"
"Voice analysis indicates lie. You are synthetic sai Cortana."
Crap, Cortana thought. "Fine I was an AI. So now that you know something about me why don't you give me a little Intel. What do you know about The Fall of Gilead?"
"Fall of Gilead: occurred as the result of a major rebellion against the Inner Baronies led by John Farson…" what is with all the Johns in this world? Cortana had thought at this, "who promised his followers freedom from the nobility and democracy. John Farson did not deliver on these promises and was assassinated in the years shortly following the deaths of the last gunslingers at The Battle of Jericho Hill. Current estimates put The Fall of Gilead nearly a thousand years ago."
"That's not possible. Roland is from Gilead, he was at The Battle of Jericho Hill."
"Correct sai Cortana. Voice analysis has determined that sai Roland is not lying about being of Gilead."
"So you're malfunctioning then? Great."
"Negative. I go through routine automated maintenance checks and have not experienced a malfunction in nearly…"
Cortana waved her hand at him again, "Whatever. Tell me what you know about the Wolves. How do you always know that they are coming?"
At this Andy seemed to lock up, his heels clicking together and arms falling to the side in a sort of rigid attention, "User has attempted to access information pertaining to directive nineteen. Password required. User has ten seconds to give the correct password or all information will be perminatly locked."
Cortana raised an eyebrow and brought her hand up to scratch the back of her neck, "I don't suppose the password is "password" is it?"
"Negative. User has five seconds left…"
"Cancel data inquiry," she said and Andy snapped out of his lockdown.
"Data inquiry canceled. Would you like to attempt again sai Cortana?"
"Not right now, although I could always just hack you in order to get to the information you know about the Wolves."
"Highly unlikely. While your neural processes indicate that you are a more advance model than I, you have become far too biological to attempt the sophisticated methods required to circumvent the firewalls surrounding directive nineteen."
"Hmm, well we'll just have to see about that wont we?"
…
When both Cortana and Andy had returned from the woods she went and stood next to John, who while not acknowledging her presences did shift his stance slightly towards her. Andy for his part did not divulge Cortana's secret, much to her relief, although it was unlikely that the men of the Calla would have paid much attention. They were arguing, and she quickly guessed what it was about.
"We must stand against the Wolves," Tian Jaffords said, his wife nodding in agreement, "There are gunslingers here now who will help us, and the Spartan has agreed to fight as well. Every generation the Wolves come they sap more of our strength, make us grow weaker do ya kennit? Tap us out right at the root."
"I agree with you Tian," said Benjamin Slightman the elder, rubbing his glasses with the coarse cotton of his shirt, "but if we fail, if they fail to kill the Wolves then all of the Calla will surely parish." Both Roland and John's fingers twitch slightly at this statement and Cortana heard Callahan mutter the word "Coward" under his breath.
"How much time do we have?" John asked.
"Andy says about twenty-six days," Benjamin Slightman said.
"Beg yur pardon Spartan but you are only one man, if you are indeed a man as the Old Fella says. You cannot hope to stand up to eighty wolves by yourself," Overholser said.
"I have fought against worse odds."
"Even if you have, you have not fought against Wolves, and even if they are gunslingers…"
"You doubt that I am of the Line of Eld?" Roland said. His voice was not angry but his eyes held a dangerous glint.
Overholser moved his hand halfway up to his mouth, as if to wipe the words from his mouth, but it dropped uselessly to his side, "Cry yur pardon gunsl…" he began but was cut off.
"No need to cry pardon sai Overholser. You wish to see credentials and you shall have them."
"That will not be…"
"Yes it will. Jake, come here son." Jake, who had been playing with Oy and Benny Slightman the younger and looking very much the child that he was, came over to Roland. When he arrived Roland had picked up four plates and began to examine them closely, as a jeweler would examine a diamond. "Who are you?" Cortana saw Jake's eyes glaze over just as they had when his body lay broken on the streets of New York, and much like he had looked earlier that morning when he and Cortana had discussed Roland, he became a young man of indeterminate age.
"I am John Chambers," Cortana felt a sharp electric spike run up her back.
"And what are you?" Roland asked.
"I am a gunslinger." Jake's hand drifted to the ruger pistol at his side.
"Recite your lessons gunslinger," and Jake recited.
"I do not aim with my hand. He who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I aim with my eye."
"I do not shoot with my hand. He who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I shoot with my mind."
I do not kill with my gun. He who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart."
With no warning Roland threw the plates into the air and they quickly found a one meter spread from each other. The phenomenon of "Spartan Time" was well documented within the UNSC, especially ONI. Massive amounts adrenaline would flood the brain during key moments in combat, slowing the perception of time down to a near crawl for the individual Spartan. Jake had just entered the gunslinger's version of Spartan time. The four shots blended together into one continuous roar, and the plates shattered as the bullets impacted them. No one but Roland, John, and Jake were able to tell which plate had been struck first. The representatives of the Calla were in shock, their mouths hanging agape. Jake immediately returned to the boy of twelve that he was and raised his left fist in the air, smiling widely.
The voices in Cortana's head reached a cacophony and this time she did not have to ask them what they meant. They were yelling about Roland, and Dr. Halsey.