Part II

VINI VIDI VICI

Chapter 22: The Grinding Wheel

To say that Infinity was a massive ship would itself be a massive understatement. It could comfortably fit four frigates within its bowls, and so fitting a medium class ONI Prowler posed little challenge.

John stood on the starboard side of the Prowler, his feet safely on Infinity's deck and away from Guilty Spark. Both Durendal and Joyeuse were present, their avatars manifested inside of a large holotank. Romanov and Marcus were there as well, but currently John was focusing on trying not to look at Joyeuse. She had been right of course about keeping Guilty Spark alive, but it was the way she had done it that had troubled him. Being annoyed by her was one thing, having to deal with the possibility of her being able to effectively render him helpless at any given moment was quite another.

How far could he trust her? Far enough to help him find Cortana, on that point he determined Joyeuse was being genuine, but not much further.

"Opening up a communication line with the Rubicon," Durendal said. He seemed apprehensive.

"Can you keep him out of Infinity's systems?" Romanov asked.

"It's going to take everything me and Joyeuse have to keep him contained, but even then it's a risk. We're still not entirely sure how Forerunner AIs operate."

"He's weak," Joyeuse said softly. "Chief really did do a number on him on Halo. That he is even functioning on any level is a testament to Forerunner technological prowess. Still, even in his reduced state he was able to subdue Rubicon's AI and take the ship over. If there is a breach we'll essentially be at his mercy. Even with that in mind I believe the benefits outweigh the risks."

"Not by much," Romanov said. "Do it."

Durendal knelt down on the holotank, plunging his hand into the floor. He flexed his arm, pulling his hand out of the floor, and with it came a stone pedestal. It rose until the top of the pedestal was eyelevel with he and Joyeuse. A thick mist formed around the AIs' feet, creeping along the floor until it reached the tower of stone, the wisps of cloud acting like fingers as it climbed upward. When it reached the top the mist coalesced, spiraling together until it formed a perfect sphere. The sphere turned blue with a slight tinge of red to it. Guilty Spark spoke.

"Hello Reclaimers. How may I be of assistance to you?"

Romanov stepped forward. "343 Guilty Spark?"

"Yes."

"I am Captain Victor Romanov of the Infinity."

"Yes I know," Spark said. It was that same smug autotone that John had come to loath. "I discovered who you were when I went through your ship's files. I would highly suggest you upgrade your anti intrusion software. It is not nearly on par with recommended protocol."

Romanov scowled at the two AIs. Joyeuse offered him an apologetic smile. So this is what it's like to deal with an AI more powerful than you, she thought.

"It trust that looking is all you're going to do," Romanov said.

"For now," Spark replied. "If you worried about the crew of the Rubicon I only neutralized them because they forced me into that action. If they had only allowed me to complete my mission they would have lived much longer."

"How much longer?"

"At least until we reached Alesia. After we arrived I would have no longer been able to guarantee their safety."

"And what is Alesia?" Romanov asked. "Why was it so important that you arrive there?"

"My friends," Guilty Spark said. There was a longing in his voice, a tone and a word the Master Chief had never heard him use. "Riser and Vinnevra. I can bring them back, I know I can. You told me I could." The sphere seemed to turn towards the Master Chief, the single half lit blue eye conveying a level of hope John did not think Guilty Spark was capable of. "You told me that the universe lives, but not as we do. That is the key, I know it is. I can bring them back if I can just figure out what it means. How it is connected to the Composer. No, not the Composer, but what the Composer represents. What it was trying to do."

Romanov looked at John questioningly and he silently shook his head. "He does that," Chief said. "He did it on Halo when we first met, but I never said that to him."

"YES YOU DID!" Guilty Spark's voice boomed. "YOU TOLD ME BORNSTELLAR, DO NOT LIE TO ME. YOU WILL HELP ME BRING THEM BACK."

He's changed, John thought. He guessed taking several blasts from a Spartan Laser tended to do that to you. "I'm not Bornstellar," John said flatly. "I don't even know who he is."

"He is the Librarian's second husband," Joyeuse said, shrugging her shoulders. "More or less. The few Forerunner records we have are a little confusing on that part. We don't know much more about him other than that."

"You're not Bornstellar?" Guilty Spark asked, quieting down. "No, of course you're not. He's dead. They're all dead. All but me."

"What did you mean by what the Composer represents?" Romanov asked.

"Transcendence," Guilty Spark said. "The Domain, the living universe. I don't know how they are connected, but they are. It's all connected, and if I can figure out how I can bring them back. Everyone could be brought back."

"Okay," Romanov said slowly. "What about the Domain?"

"The Domain was destroyed."

"Yes we know that. But what is so important about it? How is it connected to Alesia?"

"There is something there," Guilty Spark said. "Something older than Forerunner. Older than Precursor. A doorway, built long ago, and Alesia was built around it. A doorway to the foundation, the foundation that the Domain was built on. That everything was built on. There are other worlds than these, other universes. Alternate realities. That is how Requiem and the other shield worlds were powered, by destroying alternate universes. The Forerunners discovered how to manipulate them by what was found at Alesia. The Precursors were able to do far more, and the ones that came before them built the doorway."

"And where does this doorway lead? What is the foundation?"

"Everything," Guilty Spark said. "Everything is connected together. All universes are connected into a pylon, a lynchpin, a tower, a widening gyre." The blue light within the sphere began to dim, Guilty Spark's voice fading. "The Librarian is at Alesia. She's waiting for us. She'll be able to figure this out."

"He's going into hibernation," Joyeuse warned. "Must be doing it to conserve power. Try to wrap it up."

"The coordinates," Romanov said quickly. "We'll need the coordinates to Alesia if we're going to take you there."

"I…" Guilty Spark said, his voice crackling with static. "Spiders," he whispered. "There were spiders in the shed. That's why he is afraid." The sphere collapsed, the mist falling back onto the holo deck like floating flower in a bakery.

The hairs on John's neck stood on edge, his heart beat speeding up.

Spiders in the shed. That's why he is afraid.

"Damn," Marcus muttered. "What was that last part supposed to mean?"

"Rampant ramblings," Romanov said dismissively. "Nothing more."

"Well he was cogent enough to message me some coordinates," Durendal said. "Unless you're worried that those too are just rampant ramblings."

"Durendal, I'm pretty sure you were born rampant," Romanov said. "Just go ahead and give them to me."

Unlike Cortana or Joyeuse who preferred a flat digital screen, Durendal used a stone tablet which he held up to his chest like Moses holding the Ten Commandments, the coordinates writ upon its face.

"Joyeuse, bring up the coordinates you retrieved from the Janus Key." Romanov felt John's eyes on him, but ignored him for now. He examined the two set of coordinates, and found them to be the same.

"Say it," Joyeuse stated smugly. "You know you want to."

"Fine, you were right and I was wrong."

John felt a slow boil rising up in him. "You knew?"

"All I had was a set of coordinates. I didn't know where they led." Out of the corner of his eye Romanov saw Joyeuse fold her arms across her chest and raise an eyebrow. "Joyeuse did happen to have a hypothesis that just so happened to turn out being correct, but you can't expect me to send this Battle Group blindly into the abyss without knowing as much as I can beforehand."

"You could have told me."

"Would that have made it any easier?" Romanov asked. "Besides, Mdama has the other half of the Janus Key. If I was going to make a move it was more prudent of me to wait until he discovered the coordinates and went there first. Now appears that is exactly what he is doing and we now have an opportunity to crush him."

"Sir," John said. "You promised that you would help me."

"I am helping you," Romanov said patiently. "And sometimes helping means not letting you be privy to certain information ." He held up his hand before John could speak again. "I don't have time for this Chief. If we are going to leave as soon as possible there is much I need to get done." He left, leaving the Master Chief alone with the AIs.

…

"Mind putting on some music for me?" Romanov asked as he walked into his office.

"What kind?" Marcus asked, leaning over a screen on the wall, fingers hovering centimeters from its face.

"You know which one," Romanov said. He sat in his chair, leaned back, propped his feet up on the desk, and closed his eyes.

"That's what I love about you Victor," Marcus said sarcastically. "You always read the same book and you listen to the same song over and over. Nobody could ever accuse you of being predictable."

"I like it," Romanov defended himself. "It is the only song that calms me."

Marcus shook his head and pressed play. As the song began, soft electric guitars playing over a soothing drum beat, John walked into the office. In Romanov's eyes he seemed rather perturbed, his posture lacking its usual rigid stature.

"Sir."

"Wait till the chorus ends," Romanov chided him. The Master Chief waited impatiently as the first stanza was sung.

The rusted chains of prison moons

Are shattered by the sun

I walk the road, horizons change

The tournament's begun

The purple piper plays his tune

The choir softly sing

Three lullabies in an ancient tongue

For the Court of the Crimson King

"I'm glad to see you're busy like you said," John said.

"I was going to use this time to think, but you seemed to have ruined that," Romanov accused.

"Sir, I believe there are a few things we need to get straight between us. I stayed with you because I believed your course of action was what was best for humanity."

Romanov scoffed, "No you didn't. You can lie to yourself if you want, but don't lie to me. The good of humanity was only an excuse. What you really want, what you'll sacrifice humanity for, is finding Cortana."

John silently fumed, and in the background the song continued to play.

The keeper of the city keys

Puts shutters on the dreams

I wait outside the pilgrim's door

With insufficient schemes

The black queen chants the funeral march

The cracked brass bells will ring

To summon back the fire witch

To the Court of the Crimson King

"I would not sacrifice humanity for her."

"Then I guess you don't really care about her," Romanov said. "In my mind you don't truly care about someone unless you are willing to let the whole world burn for them."

"I wouldn't do that."

"Why?"

"Because that's not what she would want me to do," John said firmly. "She sacrificed herself for humanity. She wouldn't let me hurt them in order to get her back."

"I was under the impression that she wasn't doing that for mankind," Romanov said, smirking. "Fine, if you say you wouldn't sacrifice the good of humanity for her than prove it."

"I will," John said. "I've been thinking about it for a while."

"And?"

"And it makes less sense the more I do."

"And what exactly would that be."

"Lasky and Palmer," John said. "Did you kill them?"

Marcus' face lost some of its color, but Romanov only smiled. "It's been over two years. Quite a while to keep your suspicions bottle up."

John was silent, the gaze of his orange visor blank and emotionless. He waited as the smile on Romanov's face slowly faded. The song marched on without them.

The gardener plants an evergreen

Whilst trampling on a flower

I chase the wind of a prism ship

To taste the sweet and sour

The pattern juggler lifts his hand

The orchestra begins

As slowly turns the grinding wheel

In the Court of the Crimson King

"Yes I killed them," Romanov said at last. "I killed both of them."

Silence settled over the office, and the song grinded on.

On soft grey mornings widows cry

Wise men share a joke

I run to grasp divining signs

To satisfy the hoax

The yellow jester does not play

But gently pulls the strings

And smiles as the puppets dance

In the Court of the Crimson King