Chapter Ten
Estimated 0003 hours, November 1, 2552 (Military Calendar) \
Node 74-B, Computer systems, High Charity \
near Halo 05, Orbiting planet Substance
Cortana was busy trying to finish up her data collection and analysis work. She knew she had a scant few minutes, and she wanted to gather as much information as possible before their departure. She had begun copying relevant and important data onto her own systems, knowing it would begin bogging her down as the Halo 04 data once did. She risked it, realizing it would also cut her lifespan even further.
Great, that damned computer sent us to get eaten in the lap of luxury. Remind me to thank her.
"Not quite, Sergeant, hold your position, I believe I have our escape."
Cortana frantically tore through the security the Covenant had placed around this door. She hacked through firewalls and zapped anti-intrusive measures. But something was wrong – this was taking too long. She had been overburdened. If only she had some help – that is, if only she could allow her "sister" to help. It was much too risky.
After what seemed like an eternity, Cortana broke through and opened the door for the team. All of a sudden, she heard herself again.
I have defied gods and demons.I am your shield, I am your sword.I know you; your past, your future.This is the way the world ends.
"What are you doing?" Cortana snapped.
Joyeuse interrupted herself, "Why, broadcasting a message to the Reclaimer, of course."
"What reclaimer? Your friends seem to think that anyone can be a reclaimer!"
"Yes, but based on the information that has been copied from your systems, the positive identity match is 99.353 percent accurate for the one you call 'Spartan-117,'" Joyeuse said curtly.
Cortana was stunned. She had no idea the depth from which Joyeuse was able to copy herself, and she was beginning to understand. All of ONI's secret files, everything about her and the Spartans and everything else was probably in Joyeuse's memory banks, and there was nothing she could do about it.
"How do you expect him to get such a message?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we're a bit out of range for communications. It would take several million years for this message to reach our boy, and I am pretty sure he won't be around for it."
"Ah, well, I am utilizing a manipulated slipspace field that will deliver this message with accuracy to its recipient. I have tuned the message to your friend's brainwaves, so he alone will hear this message."
"Improbable. Slipspace communication is nearly impossible, and even though theoretically plausible, would still take weeks to arrive to its designated location."
"I have refined the entry and exit points for this slipspace field and modulated the message wavelength so that it may travel at much higher velocities than you anticipate. It shall arrive in no more than several days, at most. The only hindrance is the timing of the message's arrival. Had your friend been a computer, it could decipher the message by re-constituting its contents. As it stands, the message may be out of order when your friend hears it."
"Great," Cortana muttered. She had been completely outwitted by herself, only a better and more knowledgeable version of herself, as far as she could tell. She felt obsolete.
"Wait a minute, can your technique be used to hail radio frequencies?"
"I suppose so. Why would you do such a thing?"
"I need you to send this message. Please send it on the 453 MHz sideband of the 1.2 GHz frequency band. It's UNSC E-band, the humans will hear it."
Joyeuse seemed puzzled, but tuned everything accordingly.
"What would you like me to send?"
"Send this:
In Amber Clad has successfully followed the Covenant ship from New Mombassa to its destination, another Halo construct (stellar coordinates embedded).
We discovered there are more Halos distributed throughout the galaxy. Covenant base ship and fleet are here en masse guarding Delta Halo. Parasitic infestation known as the Flood has contaminated this construct. Flood attempting to escape. Strategies suggest a hitherto unknown coordinating intelligence. Highest possible threat assessment from biological contamination and radiological annihilation from Halo detonation.
Suggest FLEETCOM neutralize the Covenant-controlled Forerunner command vessel. Be advised SPARTAN-117 onboard.
Additional: Suggest FLEETCOM Nova-bomb the Delta Halo system to counter the imminent biological threat.
Message ends."
"Did the message get sent?" she asked.
"Indeed, sister," answered Joyeuse, "it was a dilemma in principle, now that the Flood have escaped onto the ring we have no choice but to destroy it and utilize the Ark."
"Yes, the Ark. Now –wait, what are you doing? Stop!" yelled Cortana. She tried to catch the commands before they were executed, but she was too late.
"Cortana, what's our status?" asked a bewildered, yet relieved, Commander Keyes.
"Oh, you're gonna love this," she replied.
Keyes wrinkled her nose. Cortana was prone to sarcasm, and that statement reeked. The far wall began to part like a miniature docking bay door. What was on the other side would stoke anger within the three warriors.
They stared out into space.
"Where's the escape pod, woman?" asked a pissed off Sergeant Johnson.
"It's a long story, but twitchy in here decided it would be best to jettison the pod," replied Cortana, clearly annoyed.
"The Flood have broken quarantine and threatened contamination. I could not allow a craft with slipspace capabilities escape with a Flood form on board, the entire universe would be at risk," said a stoic mirror-image of Cortana.
Johnson and Keyes looked at each other.
"You mean to tell me you led us here only to jettison our escape pod when you knew the Flood would probably be here too?" an increasingly angry Johnson asked.
"Well, not exactly. Joyeuse, change your visual and vocal outputs to distinguish yourself from me."
"Very well," said a voice, now not quite like Cortana's, "Will this do?"
"For now," she muttered.
"Excuse me, but what the hell is going on here?" asked Keyes.
"Yes, high oracle, what is the meaning of this?"
"I told you, my name is Cortana. Ah, nevermind. I'd like to introduce you to Joyeuse, our newest companion."
Two figures rose from the holopad in the corner of the room. One was Cortana, who had her hands pointed at another figure. She looked like Cortana, but had longer hair on one side of her head while being nearly clean shaven on the other. She also varied her appearance with a jagged edge of light illuminating diagonally across her body, and her eyes glowed with a gold hue.
"Who the hell is 'Joyeuse?'"
"She is, for all intents and purposes, me. Although not quite me, as I doubt anything could really be me. But she is an artificial intelligence that managed to come from Forerunner code. It copied me, and, well, here we are," Cortana said, matter-of-factly.
"That's fine and dandy. So your new girlfriend decided it was best to strand us here permanently, eh?"
"That is correct Mr…Johnson. Although I lament the use of the word 'stranded,' because my intent was simply the preservation of all life in the universe," replied a stoic Joyeuse.
"That's great. And it's Sergeant Johnson to you," the Marine grumbled.
"I do not understand," replied Joyeuse.
"Nevermind. So what do we do now?" questioned Keyes.
"I'm searching for more options, but it seems we may indeed be stranded here."
Just then, an explosion rattled through the room. The Flood had found them.
Combat and infection forms once again flooded the room through the gash in the wall at the end of the hall. The group backed toward the bay door.
"Cortana, open this thing up. I'd rather die in vacuum than be eaten alive by these bastards," said Commander Keyes.
Cortana hesitated.
"What's the matter?"
"Well, for one, my human preservation protocol does not allow me to take such action, although it can be overrid–"
"Just do it!" screamed Keyes.
Annoyed, Cortana responded, "As I was saying, more importantly, I think I should wait until that ship docks."
The group turned around to see a silver, bulbous ship that they had never seen before. It was closing in rapidly.
"We're coming in hard. Jump onboard when we're in position!" yelled someone over COM.
"That's UNSC band!" Miranda exclaimed.
"Commander Keyes, please upload me into your datapad," Cortana requested.
"And what about myself, sister?" asked Joyeuse.
Cortana wanted to leave her here, stranded, but she knew she had to take the copy with her or risk having every human secret exposed to whoever was looking for them.
"Johnson, upload Joyeuse to your data pad. I've set the In Amber Clad's reactors to reach critical mass in thirty minutes. I have also set High Charity's impulse drive to take a course – right onto Delta Halo. It will commence that action in forty-five seconds."
The Flood forms quickly closed the gap between the trio and themselves, eagerly wanting to finish them off. The battle group exhausted the last of their ammunition as green slime began oozing towards them.
You better hurry!
"Johnson, release the energy field," ordered Cortana.
"What? We're about to get picked up, what the hell do you want to kill us for now?"
"Just do it!" she screamed as a combat form leaped and landed just behind the Arbiter. It took a violent swing at the Sangheili, knocking him forward and his shields drained to nothing.
"Everyone hold you're breath!" said Johnson as punched the release button.
The room turned into a hurricane as air was sucked out into the vacuum. The trio, along with their pursuers, was jettisoned into space. They wondered how long they could hold out until they would die a cold, miserable death.
Just then they realized that Cortana had timed it so the group would be jettisoned straight toward the air lock in the oncoming ship. It was the only way they could escape without being torn to shreds first.
The trio landed hard as the ship fired and picked off Flood forms that were trailing them. An energy barrier was pulsed on and the room pressurized as air began circulating once more.
Johnson and Keyes explosively expelled what air they had left in them and gasped for oxygen, almost choking. The Arbiter gathered himself as he too breathed heavily. He turned to find himself facing the barrels of two BR55 rifles and three more M6C pistols from the corner of the room.
"Mind telling me what you're doing riding with this guy?" asked a familiar voice.
"Stand down," ordered Keyes, "He's one of us now!"
"She is right, demon – or demon's brother, I see. We are now fighting more than one common enemy."
The figure stood still for a few moments, then bobbed his weapon and the rest of the crew lowered theirs.
"You have some explaining to do," said the group leader.
"I can venture a guess," said a woman entering the room. Appearing from the shadows was none other than Dr. Catherine Halsey.