Chapter 54: Honest Mistakes

Cortana bolted upright, gasping for breath, and she could feel that her forehead was covered in a cool sweat. Her arms were shaking badly, both because the covers had fallen over her shoulders, and because her mind was running through thoughts so fast that she could hardly hold on to them, and she was infected with the sudden and terrible urge to get up and move, to run. To run as fast and as hard as she could until her lungs felt like they were on fire and her muscles were filled with acid, and when she could no longer run she would crawl. At first it did not matter to her where she ran to, just as long as she ran. But it does matter, she thought, attempting to control her breathing and do away with the need to move, to flee. Because would be running to The Dark Tower. It's calling me. It is always calling. She had dreamt of the Tower again and its soot black marble face, and of Roland coming to it at dusk, walking through the field of roses, winding his horn. Her hand fell to the place just beside her where John slept, but her palm only touched the empty mattress, and she felt the panic start to rise in her again.

"John?" Cortana stood up and fumbled on the wall for the lights, finally finding the switched and flicking it on. Her eyes winced as the dull florescent lights struggled to life, like every other piece of technology left in mid-world these lights were a broken and dying thing, clinging on to existence simply for the sake of it. Electric blue eyes darted around the room, but she could find no sign of her Spartan, and the true panic was about to set in when the door to the room opened and John walked through. His pupils dilated quickly to compensated for the light, and his eyes went from the empty bed to Cortana standing at the light switch, completely naked and a hand over her chest taking in deep breaths of relief. "Where were you?" she asked, half running up to him and wrapping her arms around his middle. John stiffened at first, mostly out of surprise, but quickly relaxed and put his arms around her shoulders.

"I couldn't sleep. I was talking with Roland," he said. John pushed her away slightly and looked into her eyes. "What happened?"

"Just a bad dream," She said, her shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry. I overreacted to you being gone."

John's light blue eyes lingered on her arm where he had bruised her after dreaming about the Battle of Jericho Hill. "I've overreacted too. It's okay."

"Okay," Cortana half said half sighed. She moved to the bed, wrapping the stiff blanket around her shoulders, her body feeling the full affects of the cool bunker air, and attempted to get warm. The mattress in front of her sagged considerable as John sat down on it, elbows on his knees and staring at the grey concrete wall a few feet away from him. The mattress sagged further, the bed itself pushed almost to its breaking point, as Cortana inched towards him and put her head on his arm. "Why could you not sleep?" she asked.

"Thinking," John said. He did not look at her, but shifted his body so that she could sit closer to him.

After moving herself the few extra inches towards him she asked, "Where you thinking about what we were talking about earlier?"

"Yes," John said.

Cortana put a hand up to his chin and turned his head to look at her, "It was just a thought John. We don't have to go anywhere you don't want to."

He turned his head away and looked at the wall again, "It's not that I'm worried about."

Cortana subconsciously reached a hand under the blanket and put it over her stomach, "That I might be pregnant?" John nodded and she looked down at the ground. "I don't know yet if I am or not, just that I want to be."

"I know," John said. "You would be a good mother; it's me I'm worried about." He paused, and Cortana opened her mouth to respond but he continued talking. "I am almost twice your biological age, all I know how to do is fight and I can't do that forever." He looked at her, "Every time I fight it becomes harder to do. My joints hurt, my scars hurt, and my muscles become sore easier. My eyesight, hearing, and reflexes are still good, but not as good as they once were." He looked back at the wall, "But it's still the only thing I know how to do, and you don't need me out fighting while you're raising a child." Cortana looked at him, her eyes going over ever single feature on his face, studying every hint of emotion. Where she found it most was in his eyes, the rest of his face remaining placid.

This is the most he has ever talked about his feelings to me, she thought. Cortana reached through the blanket and took his hand, John squeezing it back. Where did this come from?

John began speaking again, "Cortana I…" the word stuck to the walls of his throat and refused to dislodge itself, and John's jaw grew rigid as he tried to force himself to say it. His jaw loosened, the word climbing back down his throat, and so he settled for saying the next best thing, "I care about you." He brought his hand up to his forehead and rubbed it, "I'm sorry."

Cortana craned her neck to look at him in the eyes, "John, I did not tell you that I loved you expecting to hear it back."

"You should hear it," John said, and then thought, because I do.

Cortana smiled at him, and the clouded feelings of doubt he felt lifted slightly. "I told you that you were a hard man to love. A very hard man to love."

"Then why do you?"

She gave a half laugh, shaking her head, "I had nearly five years with just my thoughts to figure out the answer to that. If I could not come up with an answer then, then I can't now. I just know that I do."

"You deserve better," John said.

"I don't want better, I want you. She began to lean in to kiss him, but John met her lips halfway, taking her cheek into his hand. When he pulled away her smile widened, "That is the first time you have ever kissed me first." Cortana leaned in again, but he took her by the shoulders and swiftly, but gently, laid her down on her back, slipping off his jeans as he did. As he positioned himself over top of her, Cortana put a hand on his chest, "Are you sure? I thought you didn't want…"

"I do," John said, intercepting her. He moved his hips forward and Cortana bit down on her lip, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"KUNAI" UZAMAKI MODEL

Serial # 454-51-BA NUMK

PROPERTY UNITED STATES ARMY

Electric blue eyes red the letters and numbers imprinted on the base of the shuriken. No, Cortana thought. This is a kunai, not a shuriken. She closed her eyes and focused, trying to clear her mind of the misthought. It only partially worked, as a part of her, not the majority but a sizable chunk, still thought that the weapon in front of her was named a shuriken. The ka-tet sat in a circle in the same order as they had in Fedic, an empty spot still reserved for Susannah as if she were expected to arrive any second. She held up the, Kunai, this is a kunai, to John and asked, "Chief, what is this weapon called?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and almost immediately said, "It's a shuriken." He stared at the kunai for a few seconds longer and his eyebrows furrowed.

Cortana gave a slight smile, "That's not right is it?"

"No," John said slowly, his eyebrows still furrowed.

Roland looked between them, his eyes eventually landing on Cortana, "You said the other day that the weapon was called a shuriken."

"I know I did, and I was wrong. I have a theory as to why if you want to hear it."

"Other than the fact that you're just human?" Eddie asked. A bit of his old humor had crept into his voice, but it was still mostly absent. His eyes every so often would wander to the place where Susannah should have been sitting next to him, and he would quickly catch himself and return his attention back to the group.

Cortana shook her head, "Thanks for the compliment, but my memory is nearly perfect."

"It is," Jake said, nodding with his head over to the mostly completed armor assembly. "She has put most of that together using nothing but her memory."

Eddie turned his head around to look at the partially constructed machine, and then looked back at Cortana, "Okay, so what is your theory?"

"The author made a mistake. He thought these kunai were called shuriken, and somehow that caused me to think the same as well. To put it in layman's terms, if I was still purely digital it would be as if someone had written over my coding, and not even a genius level computer expert would have been able to do that with me," Cortana said.

"But you're saying that this guy was able to do that just by writing the wrong thing?" Eddie asked. "That idea is just a bit scary don't you think?"

Cortana sighed and handed the kunai off to John who flipped it over and started reading the labeling intently, "It is. He changed part of my thought process without even trying. Essentially part of his thoughts became my own."

"That is opening up a whole lot of doors I would rather remain closed," Eddie said. His eyes went over to Susannah's spot again, and he immediately returned them back to the group. Scratching the top of his head he asked, "Okay, so I'm pretty sure the guy who wrote about me was Stephen King. Now say Stephen wanted to write about how I live in New York, but he either has never been there himself or only went a few times and doesn't really know the geography. According to you he could have made a mistake while writing and instead of Co-Op City being in Brooklyn where I grew up it could be someplace completely different."

Cortana brought a hand up to her chin, considering what he said, and then closed her eyes to tap into her data streams that swam continuously like a flowing river deep in her subconscious. After finding what she was looking for she opened her eyes and said, "Eddie, Co-Op city isn't in Brooklyn. It's in the Bronx."

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed much in the same way John's had and he looked at the cement floor in front of him, "That can't be right. I was born and raised in Co-Op City. It has always been in Brooklyn." He looked up at her, "Are you sure about that?"

She nodded, "Unfortunately yes. Now the real question is did Stephen King write about Co-Op City being in Brooklyn because that's where it is in your reality, or did his mistake somehow change your reality to fit his story?"

"A question," Roland said, barely hiding his impatience. "We could spend all day asking ourselves and still get no closer to the answer. Cortana, what did our," he paused; trying to think of the non-word she had used but could not remember it. "What did our spit tell you about our lineage?"

"DNA," Cortana said slowly. "It's not that hard to remember. I almost hate to admit it but Eddie was right. You two are nineteen generations apart, at least going back through the matriarchal family tree." She looked at Jake, "And as far as you go, you are actually more likely to be one of the Chief's ancestors, although it's impossible to tell for sure."

"Really?" Jake asked, looking up at John, cocking his head at him. "I guess I can sort of see the resemblance." He looked back at Cortana, "If the Chief and Roland are so far apart, then why do they seem so similar. You know, brown hair, light blue eyes."

"Overall grumpiness," Eddie added dryly, ignoring the cold glares he got from both John and Roland.

Cortana shrugged, "Before mid-world I would have said that was a coincidence, but now I'm not so sure. What I can tell you is that light blue eyes, which is normally a recessive trait, is actually a dominate gene for both the Chief and Roland." She looked at Jake, "For you blue eyes are the normal recessive, so I'm thinking you are considered of the Line of Eld because you are Roland's adoptive son." She turned her attention back to the ka-tet as a whole, "I have a few more theories if you want to hear them."

"Sure, it's been interesting so far," Jake said. He glanced at Roland, sensing his impatience and added, "Might want to make it quick though. Roland would normally just call this ka and be done with it."

"Of course. Ka is the magical cure all," Eddie said.

Cortana gave him a small smile and thought At least he is trying. She began talking again, "The first is how the Chief and Roland ended up in two different realities. Obviously the Line of Eld originated in mid-world, and this is where Roland was born. Based on what you three told me about the portal at Turtleback Lane, what Roland calls a thinny, I'm guessing that at some point someone directly related to Arthur Eld passed through a thinny and into the reality the UNSC is from. Certainly can't prove that is what happened, but it makes the most sense."

"You are probably right," the gunslinger said. He began twirling his fingers, his impatience now on full display, "And your other idea?"

"I was just getting to that," Cortana said, looking at him through the corners of her eyes. "My other theory is about your age Roland, and why everything in this bunker is in such relatively good condition. You said yourself that time has a way of slipping in mid-world. Me and the Chief experienced something similar to that ourselves while using a Forerunner artifact during Operation First Strike, only in your case it seems to be much more severe."

"Aye," Roland said. "Time slips around me. There have been times were decades have passed around me, although I only perceive them as passing within a few weeks."

Cortana nodded, "Basically you are a walking time space anomaly, and I believe that the same thing happened in this bunker. None of this equipment should be anywhere near working order after sitting here for over two millennia, yet it is." She rubbed her finger on the floor and held it up, "There is not even any dust here."

"Time has not sped up outside since we have been here," John said. "If anything it has slowed down."

"Yes, because we are here, if that makes any sense."

John shook his head, "No, but I trust it does for you."

"Any more ideas?" Roland asked, preparing to twirl his fingers again, but Cortana shook her head. He turned to John, "You have scouted the prison, therefore you should plan the attack."

John nodded. He took the shuriken; Kunai, he mentally corrected himself, and began to carve a rough map of Algul Siento on the floor as well as its surrounding area. He drew two straight lines next to the drawing of the prison and turned to Roland, "Compass." Roland pulled out a compass from his satchel, the casing made of mahogany and the declinations written out in ornate old English lettering, and placed it on the floor next to the drawing. Whereas the compass should have indicated that the train tracks were running from west to east, instead it showed that they were running from south to north with the needle itself slowly inching its way around counter clockwise, before jumping several degrees clockwise. John sighed and pushed the compass away, drawing a rough one himself next to the map. He put the tip of the kunai at each point and said, "Arbitrary north, arbitrary south, arbitrary east, and arbitrary west. Understood?" He looked up to make sure everybody nodded in agreement and turned to Cortana, "What is the ETA on the MJOLNIR?"

"A few more hours and it will be ready," she said.

John nodded and continued, "Cortana will create a portal for me so that I can infiltrate the facility as soon as night falls. Once inside I will plant explosives here," he pointed at an ammo depot, "here," he pointed at an area where the Grunts' methane was kept, "and here," he finally pointed at the building marked barracks. He pointed with the kunai at the circles surrounding the perimeter of the prison, "At daybreak Roland, Jake, and Cortana will use the," he paused for a moment and slowly said, "kunai to take out the Jackal sentries at the six watchtowers. Cortana has the two sentries at arbitrary southeast, Roland has the two at arbitrary west, and Jake has the two at arbitrary northeast. I will have also placed C4 around the perimeter to create entry points," he pointed at the spots where he planned on placing the explosives, marking them with an X. "Once the sentries are taken out I will detonate the C4. Jake will work his way in from arbitrary north, Roland from arbitrary west, Cortana from arbitrary south, and I will push from inside the prison from arbitrary east."

"We will be separated," Roland said.

John nodded, "We will hit them from multiple directions at once, make them assume that we are a larger force than we actually are. We work our way into the middle and surround them." He drew and X in the middle of the prison and circled it, "That is our final rallying point."

"And where do I come in?" Eddie asked.

John looked up at him and pointed where he had drawn the plateau. "You will provide over watch and sniper support for the operation using the M90."

"And that thing can really blow shit apart?" Eddie asked.

"It's not as effective as the UNSC Sniper Rifle System 99-S5 Anti-Material," Cortana said. "But if you make sure to aim for the Brutes' heads it should work. Everything else, like you said, will be blown apart."

Eddie nodded, "Eyes and throat."