Salvation
Chapter 9
By Nan00k
The chapter in which everything goes horribly wrong, in all manners of speaking.
You tried, Ada.
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Warnings: original characters, violence, foul language, mentions of torture, alternate-universe story line after season 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Halo (© Bungie) nor do I own Red vs. Blue (© Rooster Teeth Productions). The original characters in this I made up for the purpose of this story.
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That morning, she did what she could to prepare herself. She could do little more than brush her hair tightly into a braid, pinned at the base of her skull, and try to hide the bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. She could barely get any sleep due to her mind being trapped thinking about the what-ifs the morning would bring.
Ada knew it was all unimportant. She wasn't the focus of that day's performance. She gathered her nerves and went to help finish the preparations.
She was glad she had missed the Freelancers' arrival. The Director was somewhere on the Falcon. She could feel it in the air; it had grown colder. She tried to ignore it.
It wasn't easy to ignore the new suits clomping around the halls. There were seven new soldiers overall. Just when they were getting used to Iowa… it was an unwelcomed change. All of the Falcon's crew was on edge, even the civilians who didn't know the majority of Project Freelancer's evildoing.
Livingston went to the lab several hours early to help her team prepare for the one o'clock inspection. The Committee was due to arrive from the colony they were in orbit around. It wouldn't take long to set up, considering the crew had done a lot of the work earlier in the week.
The lab had changed, or at least, the layout of the furniture had. Ten podiums that held up the oblong AI container units now fronted the holodeck. The AIs were being transferred into their compartments one by one, since a lot of security was needed when they were transferring O'Malley, the Alpha and Sigma. Ada couldn't do much to help with the technological aspect of the moment, but she was on top of making sure the rest of the room was ready.
The Committee was to sit between the door and the holodeck. The podiums were moveable monoliths; each AI would be positioned in front of them for individual presentation. If all went well, the AIs would be presented as a group. That was only going to happen if nothing went wrong.
Ada sighed; that was a pipe dream. O'Malley and Church were bound to be agitated by all of the security and new faces. Beta would not be gentle with his words. She also did not trust Sigma to be non-sarcastic; the AI was most likely still riled from last night. Ada was, too.
She could only handle what was happening at the present; she couldn't change what was to occur later. With that in mind, Livingston found the strength to turn and face the unfamiliar faces lingering in the lab as the tech and psychology team did their work in quiet murmurs.
Freelancers. Everywhere. Livingston eyed them all as they idly leaned against walls and chatting quietly amongst themselves. They stood out like beacons. The AIs would not be pleased. Luckily, half of the Freelancers would be moved behind the holodeck, out of the AIs' sights. Mostly.
She did not trust any single one of them. Even when Iowa walked in and politely nodded to her (they were still on edge ever since, well, the Incident in the lab between them), Livingston felt an odd sense of discomfort. None of this was right by her books.
Clearing her throat, Livingston pointed at the nearest Freelancer—pale yellow armor with blue stripes—and scowled at his faceless mask.
"No," she said.
The supposedly ex-Freelancers froze at the abrupt attention and declaration, but before any of them could reply, Iowa stepped closer.
"Um, Dr. Livingston, we went over the whole Freelancers-gotta-be-here thing, didn't we?" he began, cautious. And more formal than usual. Was it because they were in front of the others?
Ada followed the formality, regardless. "No, Agent Iowa, I meant no, take the helmet off," she said simply. She motioned at all of the Freelancers. Only two of them had their helmets off. "All of you."
The yellow Freelancer scoffed. "Oh, come on, the tech guys said this place was like a robot death zone if the AI left the room," he said. Several of his friends nodded.
Livingston did not falter. "I don't care. Take it off. We cannot allow for incidents."
Even with the radios off, it was an unnecessary risk. She would not allow such blatant security flaws to exist.
Namely… because she knew that if the Freelancers did do something stupid, like try to let the AIs take over a body, the electromagnetic field would kill any of the AI who tried to leave the room with their stolen body. Ada was not going to let her patients die that easily, even if it were just Sigma or O'Malley's plan to risk their chances.
"Radios are off," the Freelancer countered, impatient. "Right, fellas?"
"Silent as a tomb," the beige one next to him agreed, tapping his helmet. Another agent chuckled.
"Off," Livingston ordered, louder. She stepped closer, exerting as much authority as she possibly could.
The yellow Freelancer was clearly irritated. "Cripes, lady," he complained.
Iowa made a frustrated sound and stepped up. "Hey! Just do it, Oregon," he snapped. He pushed the ex-Freelancer away and shot Ada a side glance. "Sorry."
While the Freelancers muttered darkly amongst themselves (and only two of them actually complied to take their helmets off), Ada turned to face her friend. "What is with you people and your helmets?" she asked, only half joking. Iowa seemed to really like his, even when just standing outside the lab on guard duty.
Iowa shrugged, eyes a little darker. "Well, once one saves your life a couple times, you sort of feel more comfortable with it on."
"We're not dodging bullets," Ada reminded him.
"Literally? No…"
The analogy was fitting, but Ada tsked. "Oh, hush." She moved away from him, but gestured back to the line of Freelancers. "Tell them to take it off when the AIs are presented."
"As you wish, m'lady." It wasn't quite a fake yelp that came from the ex-Freelancer when she whapped the back of his exposed head with her clipboard. "Ow…"
By twelve thirty, Ada was feeling a little bit pressured. The AIs were nearly all transferred, but she was beginning to nitpick things unnecessarily. She didn't like that a lot of the tech crew were unfamiliar faces. Had they brought people in with the Committee? It seemed unnecessary. She was also beginning to doubt the presence of the Freelancers. Surely, she could convince the Chairman to only keep three in the room, out of sight. This was going to send Tau and Theta in utter panic attacks…
"Alright, the Committee is headed down the corridor," another colleague announced, walking through the electro-magnetized entrance. "Is everyone ready?"
"Almost done lining the kids up…" Okafor muttered from the AI platforms. Ada couldn't tell what he was doing; so much of the AI care was beyond her knowledge as a mere psychologist.
Ada clapped her hands together. "Soldiers, along the wall, please. Leave room along the divider for the Committee…"
It was a relief when a lot of the transfer crew moved out of the room. It was a large lab, but the amount of people was making it seem smaller to Ada. She almost wanted to do individual check-ups on the AIs before they were displayed, but as she turned to see where Iowa was, she was surprised to see an eerily familiar face step into the room.
"Chairman," she said, walking over immediately to greet the white haired man. He was much taller than she had expected; granted, the most she had ever seen of him was a face behind a desk.
The Chairman was courteous and polite, as always. "Hello, Dr. Livingston. It is a pleasure to finally shake your hand," he said, doing just that. He had a firm grip.
"I feel the same, sir," Livingston replied, smiling. "Now, are the others outside?"
"Yes. I just wanted to check in on how things are going," the Chairman replied. He peered behind her, curious. "Just to be sure."
Livingston nodded. "I understand, sir. Now, we're nearly done setting up the AI. We'll be presenting them one by one, starting from the front row, from the left," she said, pointing to that side, trying to familiarize herself with the order of the AIs. She wished the units had been color coded, but they never got around to doing that… "We'll begin with AI Delta, whom is a calm, rational first choice for—"
"Whoa, something's wrong with this one," said one of the tech assistants who was going around making sure the locks were secure on the container units. His sudden comment made many in the room focus on him as he stared at the unit in front of him uncertainly. "The readings are—whoa! Okafor!"
The named tech specialist frowned from his end of the row. "What's wrong?"
"The AI's condition is being displayed down here. The higher frequency feedback generally means higher anxiety levels," the assistant said. He bent forward to adjust something on the side of the unit, where there were many buttons that Ada had no clue how to use. "Hold on, lemme just…"
"Which one is—?"
Without any shred of warning, a bone-shilling scream rang out across the lab. It was sharp, piercing and—not from any of the humans. It was coming from the containment unit that had been displaying errors. The tech assistant stumbled away from the unit, just as shocked as everyone else present.
The screaming… it continued. Ada felt the blood drain from her face.
"What in the name of God is that?" the Chairman asked, wincing.
"Why did you just activate its unit projector? !" Okafor shouted.
The tech assistant had fallen backwards at the screaming and was struggling to get back up on his feet. "I wanted to see who it was!"
"What's going on? !" Livingston exclaimed, rushing over to the containment unit that was the source of the screaming. The AIs—they could feel pain and scream. She had heard it before, with Xi, but there was nothing physically wrong with the containment unit.
And this screaming… it was…
"Who is that? !" one of the other doctors, Jackson, asked.
Panic gripped her as the screaming—the wailing—continued to emanate from the containment unit. She couldn't tell who it was, though. Not Sigma, or Zeta… but… She tried to figure out who it was, but the screaming made it impossible to focus on counting out which unit was which.
"Jesus, turn it off!" Iowa shouted over the noise. The screaming wasn't stopping. If anything, it was getting worse.
Ada almost agreed, but they had to get the AI out of there, not just turn the audio projection off. Something was causing the AI immense pain. "Wait, no, Robert, we need to—!"
Heart in her throat, Ada abruptly recognized the voice.
"Omega!" she gasped, lunging for the containment unit. It wasn't Delta, or Beta, or—it was Omega. Omega was screaming.
The Chairman sputtered. "That's Omega? Why's he screaming? !"
"His readings are going nuts!" Okafor shouted.
"He's going nuts!" Iowa snapped. "Liv, what's going on?"
"I don't know…" Ada stared at the containment unit, stunned. They were all standard issued containment units, unused for AI storage. It was what the AIs had come to the Falcon in. "Wait…"
Her fingers moved over the sides of the unit, trying to understand what had happened. Okafor was fumbling around, trying to figure out if there were any errors they could identify on the side panel, but Ada's eyes went to the markings on the edges of the oblong unit.
When she saw the serial numbers etched into the metal shell, Ada felt her heart stop.
This wasn't a containment unit.
"No… let him out! Let him out!" She scrambled to release the latches holding the unit upright. "WHO DID THIS? !"
"What's wrong? !" Iowa demanded, already at her side.
Ada fought a wave of nausea as the raw screaming continued. "This isn't a containment unit, this is—no!" She grappled to hold the containment unit as Okafor fought with the back locks. She shuddered as the screaming went on and on. "No, O'Malley, it's alright, it's alright, I'm getting you out of there!"
"He needs to be locked down!" one of the other Freelancers shouted behind them.
"Not in here!" Ada screamed back. "This isn't a transfer unit, you idiots! This is Xi!"
There was a horrible pause, even as O'Malley's screaming intensified, where the soldiers beside her were unhelpfully silent.
"…The dead robot?" Iowa whispered after that pause, wide-eyed expression revealing he finally understood.
"GET ANOTHER UNIT!" Ada screamed. She refocused on the unit and all but dragged it off the table once it was free, as if cradling it would do anything at all. "O'Malley! O'Mal—Omega! It's me, it's Ada! You're okay, you're going to be okay!"
Iowa spun around and focused on several Freelancers just standing there. "Why the fuck are you just standing there? !" he bellowed. "GET WHAT SHE ASKED FOR!"
"—MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP," O'Malley was shrieking, the memory unit pulsing brightly. "ALLISON! ALLISON!"
Ada curled around the unit, as if she could heed his pleas. "Omega!"
It was too heavy to hold up in the air and the screaming made her feel like the room was pressing down on her anyway. Sinking to the floor, Ada tried to think of what they could do.
"—MAKE IT STOP! ALLISON! MAKE IT STOP!"
The screaming pierced her heart; she had never heard anything so agonized. This was her patient. Her patient.
Ada looked up as Okafor slid beside her. "Get another unit!"
"Here! Here, transfer him into here!" Dr. Jackson said, the unit in his hands slipping and clattering onto the floor beside them.
Okafor looked stricken. "That's too dangerous! Unlocking the internal security locks to transfer him would leave the connection open for several seconds!"
"He's in pain!" Ada pleaded, the incessant screaming overlapping her words. "Robert, do it!"
A flash of hesitation went over his face, but Okafor didn't listen to the few soldiers shouting for them to simply shut Omega up. He grabbed the new containment unit—an empty one with no lights on it—and slammed it next to Omega's pulsing container. Ada let the tech specialist take Omega's unit and watched helplessly as Okafor worked to connect them. There was nothing she could do.
His screams, his pain—she couldn't do anything to help him. Ada gulped back frantic tears.
Oh, God, she couldn't do anything.
"Transferring in three, two, one," Okafor shouted, as empty unit flared white—
And then…
The screaming stopped. The reverberations lingered, however. It echoed across her mind, her lungs. Livingston could hear her own ragged breathing mix into the sound of others. No one spoke, not even the Chairman. Livingston could feel Iowa standing behind her; she wondered if he still looked horrified.
Air cold enough to shock her, Ada took several deep breaths before leaning forward toward the units. The old one—Xi—was silent and dark. No lights remained. The other one…
The lights were dim. It was online. But whatever was inside of it…
"Please, please." She stared down at the container, helpless. "Oh, God, who the hell did this? !"
Omega had to be okay. He had to. This wasn't even his fault. He did nothing—none of the AIs could have done this. Even Sigma, with all of her plans, couldn't have made anyone use the wrong container. Xi wasn't even in the labs. He had been elsewhere on the ship. The AIs had no idea where he had been.
Sigma wouldn't have… done this. Not to one of her own.
Okafor looked at her with similar fearful eyes. "I-I don't know! There were more people than normal helping move things!"
"He needed to be put into a solitary unit," Ada began, panic freefalling directly into a hazy rage. Standing, she spun around and started to shout directly into a tech assistant's stunned face. "Why the HELL was he put into Xi's containment unit?!"
Of all the AIs, of all the memory units—? !
"I don't know!" the poor assistant sputtered.
Ada could barely breathe. "This was torture! Absolutely barbaric!"
It was impossible. It wasn't possible for this to have happened. She didn't understand, but she was going to find out what had happened, because this—this was not acceptable. It was absolutely not—
Behind them, Ada heard someone unfamiliar gasp. "Oh, HELL," another Freelancer began, voice rising. "Everyone get out!"
Turning, Ada saw several people stumble away from the center of the room. She saw one Freelancer, who still had his helmet on, fall away from the others, his hands going up to his helmet.
"What's…" Ada froze when the Freelancer abruptly started to back away from them in a hunched posture. She looked down sharply at the memory unit with the dim lights. "Oh no…!"
Omega was—
With a primal scream, the Freelancer lunged at the closest person, another tech specialist, and all at once everyone realized what was happening. The Chairman was hauled out of the room by the nearest Freelancer and several tech assistants screamed.
"OMEGA'S LOOSE!" Iowa yelled. He brought up his pistol immediately, raising it at the Freelancer sloppily pummeling the tech assistant. "Get the civilians out! Get us back up—!"
"NO!" Ada screamed, grabbing his arm. He wasn't expecting her to do that, but he kept the weapon raised as others in the room did the same. "WAIT! DON'T SHOOT!"
Iowa shot her a frantic look, because they didn't have time to argue. More soldiers seemed to recuperate from the bizarre moment, however, and Ada had never felt more afraid of guns. They were all pointed at Omega, who had rolled away from the tech assistant when someone had rushed at him to drag him off. The AI-infected man snarled and scrambled to his feet.
He wasn't going to be thinking logically, not after being dumped inside his dead brother's remains. Ada ignored common sense and tried to edge closer to O'Malley as he backed further and further away. No one else moved as an intense, stifling quiet fell over the room; only O'Malley ragged breathing was audible.
Ada inched forward on trembling legs, heart racing.
"O'Malley… please… stop," she began, praying with all her might that she could end this without actual bloodshed.
O'Malley only noticed her because she had spoken. He seemed to be trying to bend in toward himself. "Go… away," he managed to say, although he was moving further away. Did he even realize there were soldiers there? Or that the moment he left the room, he'd be annihilated by the electromagnetic field?
"Think of your siblings. Think of how much you're going to ruin it for them," Ada begged to no avail. "You tried so hard to get the Alpha. He's here. He's waiting for you. All of them."
The soldiers moved closer, but Livingston waved her hand at them as O'Malley tried to uncurl from himself. They couldn't crowd him; she could talk him down from this. She knew she could—
"Allison is dead. I have to find her," O'Malley said, startling her. He whipped to the side and grasped at the base of his helmet. "NO! What the hell did you do to me—EPSILON!" The AI howled in agony and lunged to the side, getting no where further. "I need to find Epsilon!"
Livingston stopped. Why was he calling for Epsilon? He had never…
"O'Malley…" she began, now wary. She held a hand out to him and tried to focus on keeping his attention on her, and not the guns pointed his way. "We'll find him. Don't worry."
O'Malley wanted none of her promises. "Xi is dead!" he snarled. He slammed his fist into his helmet, making everyone jump. Thankfully, no one shot their guns haphazardly as the AI seemed to thrash inside his stolen body. "I'm dead! We will NEVER be whole again!"
He stumbled again. Ada saw soldiers motion subtly to each other, preparing to move.
"Where is Doc? I need my…body…" O'Malley gripped his helmet and backed further away, ignoring the world as his agonized voice grew louder. "I need it, I need it, I need it…!"
Livingston froze.
She had heard someone say something similar to that, once before.
Only once.
"Xi, we're only trying to help you."
"No. No. I need her. I need her!"
"Who, Xi?"
"Allison. I need her!"
Throat constricting as she heard those desperate pleas—pleas that would never leave her memories—echo across her mind. O'Malley was reminding her of him, with his panic, with his words…
"I need her, I need her, I need her!"
As O'Malley gasped for breath with the body he had stolen, Livingston slowly understood.
Xi had been Obsession.
Xi had destroyed himself because of what he was. Because he couldn't get what he so desperately needed. Xi…
O'Malley howled and threw himself into the wall, the effort enough to crack his host's mask.
"Oh, no…" Livingston could only stare on in abject horror. "Xi…?"
Oh, God, no.
Reintegration was only a theory, because they had assumed they needed all the parts at once. O'Malley—no, it was impossible. They had only been stuck together for a few minutes. It—it couldn't have happened. Xi and Omega couldn't have—
O'Malley howled again and his legs seemed to buckle. He managed to keep standing and fell back even more, pressing closer against the wall. He wasn't trying to jump into another host nearby; he was out of his mind. Just that short time period inside Xi's lonesome container unit and…
As she watched him, Ada was forced to realize that she knew…
She knew what had happened.
Xi hadn't died, not completely. It would have been agonizing to have been shoved into Xi's remains, but O'Malley's words… his panic…
An idea grew in Ada's own terrified mind, and for the briefest of moments, she realized that idea was horrible. It was despicable, heartless—evil.
But when she saw the UNSC soldiers and other Freelancers raise their weapons again, ready to obliterate the possessed man in front of her as O'Malley continued to wail and stumble away further toward the door and the energy field that would obliterate him…
She didn't have a choice, God help her.
"Please, O'Malley," she said, daring to edge closer, ignoring the weapons against her fears. She heard Iowa make a sharp sound, but she ignored him, too. "Just… go back into the containment unit."
O'Malley, unsteady on his feet, looked her way. "No," he snarled, more animal-like than actual spoken language.
Ada swallowed back fear—and the acknowledgement that what she was about to do went against every moral principle she had—and shook her head slowly.
"O'Malley… think of Doc," she whispered. She felt like she was losing body heat with every word that followed. "You'll never see Doc again if you hurt anyone here."
"You think that matters to me? !" O'Malley howled, moving as if trying to find her, as if he wasn't able to control his movements.
Don't do this. Oh, God, why am I doing this?
Ada continued to move closer to block his path to the lab exit, one hand perpetually raised in a feeble gesture of peace. "Yes," she croaked. "I think it does."
O'Malley hissed, edging back further as Ada persisted. She tried to keep calm. "He's one of the constants in your life. He…he gave you a second chance, didn't he? When you were at Blood Gulch with Church?"
O'Malley entire body tensed up and Ada cringed internally. "Doc means a lot to you, doesn't he?" she asked, reviled at her own cruelty. "What he was, what he represented… he means a lot to you."
She remembered Xi, from the brief time she had tried to help him at the start of the program.
She remembered his pathetic cries for a woman she didn't know, but now realized was real, thanks to O'Malley's unwanted secrets. Now, Ada realized in part why Xi had cried for a dead woman.
"I need her, I need her, I need her… Allison… please…"
"She's not here, Xi."
"Then neither am I!"
Livingston steeled herself and her memories.
Xi hadn't just dissolved or melted away due to his physical components. The container that had housed his barely-there essence was empty now that O'Malley had been forced inside and then escaped from it.
Because O'Malley… had absorbed Xi, and everything that he was.
Ada took a deep breath and tried not to throw up as she continued to manipulate that fact.
O'Malley was practically collapsed against the wall. "I…" he rasped. His agony was piercing.
Redirect the obsession. It was the only way to get him to stop this, to calm down. Xi's desperation for a person he could never find had turned into suicide, or that's what Livingston and the others had thought.
'Allison,' Epsilon, Doc… it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Livingston knew that this was her only chance to keep Omega from being deactivated right there on the spot.
"Go back into the container unit. Let that man go. It's going to be fine, O'Malley," Ada lied, knowing it wasn't. She smiled and tried to make herself believe it. "Then… we can go find Doc. You can find him if you go back into the unit. You… need him. And you have to listen to me if you want to find him."
O'Malley took a sharp breath. Ada smiled.
"Go back to the containment unit if you want to find him," she said. "Trust me, O'Malley."
It was dangerous, bargaining with a patient set loose in psychosis. O'Malley was a living weapon. He had destroyed whole bases and turned strong men into body fodder. He had no reason to trust her. He wasn't made to trust. There was nothing in him, at his core, which suggested he would ever listen to anyone, ever.
Frozen by the wall, O'Malley seemed to be watching her. Or maybe he wasn't. He didn't move. His whole body—stolen, human—seemed unnaturally stiff.
There was a long moment that left Ada staring back at him. Her heart went out to him. She prayed, for as much as that was worth. She hoped.
Behind her, Iowa took a deep breath.
O'Malley's body pitched forward. Several people yelped and more than one gun was cocked. But there was no movement otherwise for a good long second.
Livingston looked back at the rest of the room. Everyone was either frozen in shock, or they were peering at the last two people still wearing helmets. Waiting for another infection.
But the two remaining Freelancers quickly grappled with their helmets and threw them off. Their frightened, paranoid expressions spoke volumes. O'Malley had not gone back to another body.
Slowly, Livingston refocused on the abandoned unit on the ground. Okafor also crept back toward it. He approached it as if it were as dangerous as a stolen Freelancer body, but the containment unit did nothing. Except…
Low lights pulsed on its side.
"Lock it," one of the UNSC soldiers said hoarsely.
Okafor didn't need orders. He quickly descended upon the unit and whatever he did made the lights flare once—and then revert back to a solid white.
Livingston took a deep breath, realizing she had been holding it before.
"Is he…?" Iowa began, voice wavering. His expression was far steadier; hard lines of a soldier marred his usually genial face.
Okafor nodded. "Yes…" he stammered.
Kneeling beside the unit slowly, Ada stared at it, eyes wide. She couldn't stop shaking. "Oh, God, I…I hope I did the right thing."
"Of course you did. You stopped him, didn't you?" Iowa asked. He sounded concerned. "Liv?"
She had stopped him. But…
"Xi's gone," she said. She felt unsteady, even while seated. "O'Malley…oh, God, I think…"
Just when she had thought the evils of the universe had been finished with the AIs. Just when she thought she could actually promise them safety.
This was abhorrent.
This…
Livingston let Iowa help her up. She could do nothing now. If O'Malley survived this without falling into insanity like Xi, there was no telling what shape he would be in after this.
Had she made it worse?
"Dr. Livingston…" a heavy voice to her side began. Turning rigidly, she saw the Chairman watching from the back wall, pale. His voice was rough. "I do believe that this demonstration should be postponed."
Livingston trembled. "…I…"
He was right. The AIs would know what had happened; or at least, they would know something had gone wrong. Livingston would not be able to handle facing them.
Beside her, Iowa loomed. "Come on, Liv," he said quietly. "Come on."
Livingston didn't say anything as he helped guide her out of the way as tech assistants swarmed.
0000
She wanted to see Iowa. He was probably just going to tell her to calm down like Okafor and her colleagues had told her countless times over the last four hours, but Iowa knew more about this than they did.
But Iowa was busy, talking to soldiers and trying to explain to the heads of the UNSC forces on the Falcon about what had happened.
Ada was trying to figure out what had happened too, but unlike her friend, she didn't have much force behind her words or her demands.
But Goddamn, was she angry.
"Who the hell was in charge of the containment units?" she demanded, knowing she must have seemed as angry as she felt. Several of the assistants winced as she marched past them toward the holodeck. "I want a complete list of everyone involved in the preparations. Now!"
"There's nothing there, Dr. Livingston, we already checked," one of the tech specialists said. "There is nothing out of the ordinary."
How was any of this not out of the ordinary? Xi had been in secure storage—granted, with several other technological gear for AI care. The others were trying to argue that he had simply been shifted into the wrong piles.
But that seemed insane to her. Xi's unit was distinct from other units. Any of their usual team would have recognized the infamous AI. They had all been there for his suicide attempt.
…Which meant unfamiliar hands had chosen him.
"Freelancer soldiers moved all the equipment," she said, gritting her teeth. "They're the ones who move it all around."
All of that extra help. The extra tech assistants. The Freelancers. All of those people were unfamiliar, and untrustworthy. She was going to scour every name, on every list, of both old and newer personnel. Everyone was a suspect. She was going to figure out who had helped to do this horrible deed, or she would go mad trying.
Okafor looked exhausted. "It was just because the extra man power was available, Ada. There wasn't a conspiracy. They were right there with us. The boxes got mixed up. It was an accident."
It wasn't right. That wasn't right. It had to have been one of those new people. The one thing that could go wrong—an AI jumping into a human right in front of the Chairman—had happened. It had been impossible that the AIs would have been able to orchestrate Xi being mixed up into the containment unit pile. It had to have been human hands. Human error… malicious human error.
"They volunteered," she said, heart aching at the thought of O'Malley and Xi.
Okafor hesitated, as did several others. "…Livingston, you're not suggesting…"
They seemed surprised at her venomous reaction. How could they be surprised? Livingston knew she seemed irrational. It was irrational to blame an entire section of their military for sabotage, when the odds were stacked against it.
But nothing about Freelancer was rational.
Nothing about the Director was rational.
Freezing, Livingston realized another crucial change the Falcon had undergone.
The Chairman and Committee were not their only guests.
"The Director," she hissed. She turned about face and marched past stunned tech assistants.
Her rage made it difficult to navigate the ship coherently. Somehow, she made it to the second deck. Somehow, she managed to march straight up to the distinctive group lingering outside of what had to be an officer's office. She ignored the few Freelancers in the area. She ignored the back of the Chairman's head. She focused only on one face in the crowd.
She had never seen a picture of the Director, so it was almost like divine guidance that led Livingston directly to the dark haired man with glasses and graying beard. He looked up when she was only a few feet away, but it was Iowa who promptly caught Livingston before she managed to let her closed fist get close to his face.
"YOU!" she screamed. She stumbled back when Iowa tried to keep her back, but she quickly launched forward. Several of the Committee members and the Director seemed shocked by her abrupt appearance. "You did that on purpose!"
One of the UNSC soldiers stepped between her and the speechless Committee members. "Whoa, lady, back up—"
"Dr. Livingston, wait a second—," Iowa began, alarmed. She angrily shoved his arm out of the way, pointing accusingly up at that God-forsaken man behind him.
"Your men were told to keep their helmet radios off during the presentation. You volunteered them to help move our equipment, and suddenly, Omega gets put into Xi's memory unit? !" she continued, trembling fiercely. She kept her eyes pinned to his pale gray eyes, which lacked any sort of emotion. "I know you did this on purpose!"
The Director, wearing a faint frown, was a quiet man. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you are talking about, madam," he replied. His voice was—worse.
"You…." Livingston drew back, upset to the point she could barely speak. "You are a monster."
He just wanted them dead. He didn't want them saved. If they were dead, they had even less evidence against him and his crimes.
She didn't know how, but this was all his fault. It had to be. It had to be.
"Dr. Livingston, that is quite enough!" the Chairman burst out, angry. He motioned the UNSC guard away, facing Livingston with a severe look. "We have all been under immense pressure. Perhaps you should find the time to rest before tomorrow's Committee meeting."
Meeting? Livingston wanted to laugh. It would have sounded hysterical, however.
"I'm not the one who needs to rest," she said, too angry to be calm about this. "The Director is the one who needs to understand when enough is enough."
"My dear doctor," the Director began, making her face him with another fierce glare. His condescension, his indifference, was enough to make her want to scream. "I am afraid you simply do not comprehend the magnitude of this situation."
Hot, black spite crossed her heart. "Maybe not. But I can comprehend some things. Other things, maybe not," she spat. She glared and felt nothing but defiance. "Like what the hell did you do with Allison?"
The Director flinched. The Chairman sputtered.
"Who?" he demanded.
Livingston choked on many things she wanted to say, to demand. She wanted nothing more than to drag out all the dirty secrets she had learned from the AIs. The Director's now guarded and edgy expression made her realize that it was all true. About Allison. About Texas. She could see the fear in his eyes now. He knew she knew.
Trembling, Livingston forced herself to be rational.
"I…" She held her head high, but sent the Chairman and the Committee a sharp nod. "Forget it. Good day, Chairman. I need to go see to my patients. Particularly the ones recovering from recent torture."
She turned—leaving them with what had to be an incredible discomfort. The Committee at large hadn't seen O'Malley's actions, but they knew what had happened. There would be no mercy tomorrow. There was no point in begging, or coddling them now.
At the end of this, Livingston realized, none of them in that hallway deserved patience or kindness.
Especially not herself.
She did not go back to the labs. Only pain and despair would be there waiting for her. Livingston chose the coward's route and went back to her habitation suite. The pain followed her, though. She could not escape it anywhere on the ship.
Throwing herself onto her bed did nothing to ease it, nor the guilt racking her mind. She could have done something, she thought fervently against logical denial of that. She shouldn't have trusted them.
Any of them.
Certainly not the ex-Freelancer who had apparently followed her and easily unlocked her door. Maybe she had given him the passcode. Probably had. Foolish.
Iowa said nothing at first. He waited at the door, letting it slide shut and put them into perpetual twilight. Ada had pointedly ignored him. She didn't know if she wanted to tell him to leave the room, or to stay. She couldn't tell which would make things worse.
"Liv…" he began.
"Leave me alone," she said, burying her head into her arms.
Tomorrow was nothing but a death sentence waiting to happen.
They had to have suspected the sabotage as well. But they weren't going to admit it, because of politics. Because of bureaucracy. Because the AIs were only AIs, not things to be considered human.
Shivering violently, Ada fought the urge to cry.
Tears did nothing. Violence did nothing. She could do nothing. The helplessness was choking and threatened to rob her of any coherency she had left.
How did this happen?
Beside the bed, Iowa had sat down in her desk chair. His presence was loud to her hypersensitive mind.
Sniffing, Ada didn't look at him, but refocusing her attention helped keep her from despair. Now, she felt anger return. "Why the hell were you with them anyway?" she demanded when she looked up.
Iowa had the decency to avert his eyes, embarrassed perhaps. "Still technically a Freelancer," he murmured, as if that made things better. "I don't know. It's easy to follow orders from people you hate if you've done it for long enough."
Was that supposed to make her feel better? Or excuse him from any harm? Ada made a harsh sound and looked away. She stared at the wall and fought the burning behind her eyes again.
Silence rang out. It was like a smog.
"You okay, Liv?" Iowa asked quietly.
Livingston closed her eyes. "No."
"…Wanna talk about it?"
"What's there to talk about?"
"I don't know." Iowa took a breath and ran a hand over his face. "Man… this is all shades of screwed up, ain't it?"
Ada snorted. That was an understatement.
Staring at the wall, she thought about what there was to discuss. He knew that they were doomed to lose the ruling. He knew—he must have—that the Director had done something to ruin their chances. He must have agreed with her paranoia, her accusations, but like everyone else, he probably didn't want to voice them.
All the smartest people were cowards, Ada realized.
Including… herself.
"I…"
The man beside her waited for her to gather the strength to speak. Words were painful. What she had to say… was killing her slowly.
"I did something horrible," she finally whispered, the admittance sending knives into her heart.
Iowa looked at her, surprised. "No, you saved peoples' lives."
Livingston focused on the wall, eyes burning. "If O'Malley and Xi really have reintegrated, I used Xi's condition against them both."
"What do you mean?" Iowa asked.
"Xi is obsession, like Delta is logic or Sigma is creativity." Ada took a steading breath. "If they have reintegrated, despite if Omega was strong enough to remain the dominant persona, Xi's obsessive nature may have merged over into Omega."
Iowa stared at her, stunned. Even he could follow what she was talking about.
"O'Malley was already predisposed to be possessive over what he assumed his, mostly his freedom," Ada explained, voice hollow. "He associates his freedom with having a body…and there was one soldier he frequently possessed back in Blood Gulch. He… still feels strongly about that soldier. He identifies his freedom with that one soldier." She clasped her hands together to keep from shaking. "I used that against him."
"Liv, you saved everyone's lives, okay?" Iowa insisted. He shook his head. "Including O'Malley's."
Perhaps she had stopped him from running into the electromagnetic field traps, but she had made whatever links between him and Xi become something more tangible. She helped whatever reintegration that they had suffered through become real. If O'Malley survived this, he would not be the same.
None of them would.
"…They deserve better than this," she said. She knew that sounded as pathetic as she felt.
They deserved so much more.
Iowa sent her a pained look. "I know," he said. He grasped her shoulder lightly. "Liv, it's going to be okay."
"No, it won't," she replied hoarsely.
The Committee wasn't going to take her side in this. After seeing O'Malley's meltdown and escape—no matter how brief—there was no way they'd want to continue to fight for the AIs. Fear bred terrible doubt.
Iowa didn't say anything. Not because he wasn't listening. He didn't say anything, because he couldn't disagree.
Livingston pressed her hands to her face and prayed.
.
End Chapter 9.
.
Next, Ada and Iowa make each other offers neither can refuse.