RECOMPOSE
by Ladywolvesbayne
OMFG PEOPLE! Did you see the cover art for H5 already? I'm literally dying a little every day from here to October, I'm sooooooo freakin' head over heels with this! Fear not, I already pre-ordered my copy of the artbook, it's the only piece of merchandising I'm interested in since I don't play the games xD anyway, fangirling aside, enjoy today's episode... it's a good one -evil smirk-
ALSO: 10K hits already, and 60+ followers? Can't believe it. This is so awesome, YOU people are SO AWESOME! Don't forget to check my profile to find a nice music mix for this story, loaded up at 8tracks! ^^
9. SUBJECT ELEVEN
AUGUST 7TH 2558
LOCATION: UNSC INFINITY
06:06 PM standard time
"State your name for the record, please."
"Subject Eleven. Or CTN 0452-9 if it pleases you."
"Subject Eleven, then. Who are you?"
"I am me. But I am also her. I am a tactical fraction of the Smart AI once known as Cortana; her combat core, to be precise."
"Care to elaborate a little?"
"The conglomerate of sub-routines dedicated to solve combat situations, ma'am. The efficiency of a military AI depends on the accuracy of response of its combat core. My accuracy margins were always off the charts." he said, with pride.
Commander Palmer stared at the man, just blinking blankly for a moment.
He was kind of distracting, to be honest. His electric blue eyes were staring at her under a shade of dark, messy hair, like a sharp predator. His height could easily match any of her SPARTANS yet he wasn't as built as them, his physique was leaner, lighter; his forte wasn't brute strength. The man was also keeping an eye in his surroundings, calculating everything.
She still couldn't believe it. She almost laughed when Roland called her out of the living quarter decks, where she was conducting the survivor's accommodations, to give her the news: on a stranded Pelican the Infinity picked up another three human copies of Cortana. One of them was male, the second was a child and the third was a female with odd manners. None of the girls said a word; the younger because she seemed still too little to make conversation, and the older one because she had brain damage, according to the medical report. Both had Forerunner glyphs on their left wrists, the little girl had the number twelve and the other, the number two.
His number was eleven, obviously, which made absolute sense.
Now, the Chief's report wasn't as irrational as it sounded a few days ago.
"All right, moving on... who are the other two you brought along?" asked Palmer.
The man looked at the handcuffs around his wrists, then at the biofoam canister within his reach. His shoulder wound was sealed, it wasn't bleeding anymore but it sure hurt like hell.
She recalled the moments before entering with him to the interrogation room. He willingly stripped off his strange armor -more like the thing peeled off by itself, without any help- and allowed to be seized by two fireteams at the same time. That black and red full-body undersuit was maybe his only set of clothes, he was also barefoot at the time. The Commander confiscated a sealed backpack; it was delivered to Dr. Glassman along with the crate which contained the strange melting armor.
"Hey, I asked you a question. Focus. Who are the girls?"
"I want guarantees, first." he snarled, showing his teeth like an animal.
"You can have them if your story makes sense."
"My story makes all the sense in the world, Commander Palmer. You, in the other hand, are under ONI surveillance and it is not in your power to make any promises, so I want someone high brass enough to guarantee my safety and my sibling's before I tell you shit."
The man leaned back against the chair, crossing his powerful arms over his chest as far as the handcuffs allowed. A wry smile danced in his lips, he knew he was entitled to his demands. However, that much confidence could still play against him...
Palmer looked up, at the camera, and raised her hands.
"Admiral Osman is going in." the Captain said, through the speakers.
"Not exactly the person I had in mind." the man snorted, cocking an eyebrow.
"Why is it? Because you only trust the Master Chief?"
"Ma'am, we were partners for virtually five years*. Are you taking proper care of my sisters?"
"Focus on me, Subject Eleven."
"I am focused on you, Commander. I've been thinking for the past ten minutes in about twenty different ways of how to break these handcuffs and disable a SPARTAN without actually hurting her at all. Wait... yes, there goes twenty one."
"Are you threatening me?" Sarah balled her fists over the table.
"Absolutely not, ma'am. I just can't help it, it's what I was programmed for."
He gave her a somewhat sheepish look. Palmer sighed and slowly shook her head.
"Your sisters are fine." she promised. "The doctors are with them now."
"Thank you."
The door slid open and the tall, severe figure of Serin Osman entered the room. The man looked at her, unimpressed, but then he narrowed his eyes. He didn't like that woman. Despite the idea, he stood up and even in handcuffs, he saluted as respectfully as any other Marine would.
Osman didn't salute back. "Sit." she said, pointing at the chair again with a gesture of her head. He obeyed, sharply. "So, what is all the fuss about? What do you want, exactly?" the Admiral asked.
"Safe haven for my sisters and me, that's all."
"You claim that you know where the Rampant Spike will strike next."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Why should I believe you? For all I know, you could be another corrupted piece of programming embedded in a human body, just like your other sister. I should have you knocked down with sedatives and shipped back to Earth in a sealed cryo-pod. You cannot expect me to bargain with you if you do not prove your worth."
He considered the Admiral's words for a moment, silent.
The man sighed, defeated. "She plans to hack the navs of an Infinity-class warship and crash it straight into FLEETCOM's grounds, ma'am."
The room fell under silence again. Palmer felt the blood rush away from her face, cold ran down her spine. It was maybe the craziest thing she ever heard. Osman, in the other hand, just twitched an eyebrow.
"There's only one Infinity-class warship, and it's the one we're canned in." said the Admiral, emotionless.
"Exactly." the man replied.
"And you want safe haven in the same ship she wants to steal?"
"I can help you defend it."
Serin Osman leaned in towards the young man, her face a harsh mask of menace. He didn't back away from the woman, just looked at her right in the eye, keeping his cuffed hands over his lap.
"When is it going down?"
"I don't know." he swore. "But I'm ninety-eight percent sure she will do it."
"How did you acquire this information?"
"It's impossible to hack this ship." Palmer said, shocked. "Roland protects it."
"You know that's not true." he refuted, talking to Sarah. "Every AI has an override code, even we had one. Now that code is useless and nothing can stop Subject Seven, except for a nicely placed bullet between the eyes."
"How do you know all of this?" Osman snapped, and she struck her hand against the metallic table, making it shudder. "If you are not working for her, then how is it that you know what she is planning?"
"Like I said, I was built as a combat core. If I needed a last-resort firing solution for my nonsensical retaliation crusade, to steal the biggest warship I can find and crash it above UNSC headquarters is what I would do. That is, if I were to make a serious statement." he explained, his face solemn as a gravestone. "I can predict her movements with very narrow error margins."
Palmer cleared her throat: "That's the reason of your presence in this planet."
"Yes, ma'am. I tracked her down, I predicted she would use the planetary orbital defenses for her purposes, since it was easy to hack for an entity of her skill. But I failed to see that she would use the weapons grid against civilian population. It seems like her rampancy is escalating."
Admiral Osman straightened her pose and crossed her arms again. Now there was a hint of worry in her face, she looked at Commander Palmer and then at the hovering camera. There wasn't much else to say.
"You don't have a plan, then." the woman guessed.
He raised his head, hopeful. But he had to be honest, anyway: "No, ma'am. I'm not a strategist. But I'm not stupid either, I do know this is not a mission for a single soldier. If she finds us separated, she'll destroy us. It needs teamwork. And we need the Master Chief's expertise in this area."
"What 'area' is this, exactly?"
"Well... Cortana, of course."
AUGUST 7TH 2558
LOCATION: UNSC INFINITY
6:18 PM standard time
Cortana hurried into the observation room, while the interrogation of her so-called "sibling" was still in process at the other side of the mirrored glass. The ship's Captain and the Chief were standing there, in the shadows, both very quiet. Lasky seemed to be sweating a bit.
John, well... whatever he was thinking, it wasn't nice. His face was severe.
When the Captain saw her come into the room, he immediately shook his head in denial and strode towards her: "I'm sorry, Cortana, but you can't be here."
"Please. I need to see it." she said, softly. "I need to know."
She approached the mirrored glass, hugging herself; Lasky dropped his hands and stood beside her. Commander Palmer ordered her second Lieutenant to get some clothes for the man and someone else to get him off the handcuffs. Admiral Osman just exited the interrogation room, her statement clear: Subject Eleven would be kept in custody until his intentions were demonstrated, somewhat by holding his 'sisters' as UNSC prisoners. Medical testing procedures were implied as well.
Cortana flinched slightly when she saw the weary expression on the young man's face. She saw hurt, pain, but it wasn't of physical nature.
"He cares for them." she mumbled. "I want to talk to him, Captain."
"I don't think Admiral Osman will allow you to." Lasky sighed, defeated.
She was eager to ask the man why was he a human male, more than anything else, but it was irrelevant. Thanks to Roland, she'd been hearing the interrogation from her private quarters, but she knew deep down that she needed to be there and see for herself. That man said he was someone like her, actually a part of her, a fragmented portion of her once whole digital self. The picture was both frightening and fascinating at the same time.
What if he was a psycho of the likes of the Rampant Spike?
She closed her eyes for a short moment, vanishing that last thought.
"You don't understand, Captain." she said, insistent. "This is beyond anything I've ever experienced before. I need to talk to him. He's a part of... of what I used to be. He's like me. He's me, don't you see? He's been separated from the subjects under his care and it knocks him down... I know he's not an AI anymore, but I see he still works under directives. I can get him to say whatever else he's hiding."
She didn't mention the insane need to be in front of that man and see for herself how much lookalike they both really were, or the adrenaline rush that was making her heart beat faster or her skin crawl with expectation. No, she kept all of that for herself because it was dangerous and it frightened her, in some way.
Lasky frowned, hesitant. He was thinking about it.
"You will have to report it, Cortana. I mean everything." the Captain agreed.
"Sigrid will provide recordings, sir." John said, from the far side of the room. He turned his gaze towards the girl, still serious. " I'm not supposed to let you off my sight, anyway."
AUGUST 7TH 2558
LOCATION: UNSC INFINITY
6:28 PM standard time
Subject Eleven was trying to fasten the fittings of that uncomfortable SPARTAN uniform he wasn't used to wear, when he saw her. His eyes went wide immediately and he forgot about the damned fittings.
"Cortana." he mumbled, shocked.
"I wonder how should I call you, since 'hey, me' is... well, inappropriate, I'd say."
She smiled a bit, carefully.
"I'm glad to see you're safe." he said, then he stared at the tall SPARTAN standing behind her. "Chief, you don't know how relieved I am to see that at least one of us made it back to you. It makes all the efforts worthy."
John nodded, silent. He wasn't sure about how to deal with it yet so he just chose to remain alert and quiet. The whole thing was confusing, to say the least.
Cortana, in the other hand, walked in a wide circle around her supposed 'sibling', studying him from head to toe with very interested eyes. She had a thought, once. Since she was an AI, she could look like whatever she wanted, but she always felt more like a woman than like a man. Yet, once, she ran a simulation in which her holographic body was of an adult human male; it was shocking to be so certain that the man standing in front of her was a flesh-made carbon-copy of that simulation.
Even the sound of his voice, so smooth, reassuring.
She shook her head, between amazement and doubt.
"I know what you're thinking." he muttered, with a small smile. "And the answer is yes. We share the memories, I had the image on my mind. And I liked it. You can call me Eleven if it makes you feel more safe."
"What do you mean by 'safe'?"
"I won't try to erase you like she did. She wanted your name, but we all knew that the only one who deserved to be called Cortana was you."
Cortana gasped and stood still.
The Rampant Spike not only tried to kill her, she tried to steal her whole identity. Cortana looked at John, he was still so serious and silent. She didn't know what to do. She had so many questions for this supposed brother of her, they had so little time to waste. Taking a deep breath, Cortana closed her eyes and tried to force her disorganized human brain to focus; this man wasn't the only one, there were other two she wanted to meet too. But first things first:
"I believe you." she said, in the end.
He seemed to relax, with a loud sigh.
"Great. Because I'm so tired of running away that I just..." he trailed off, weary.
"Why don't we go grab something to eat? What do you say, Chief?"
John cocked an eyebrow.
"I have a full magazine just loaded up." he stated, as his armored fingers brushed the sidearm clasped at his thigh.
"I'll keep that in mind." Eleven said, with a cynical smile. "I could use some food. And a haircut, perhaps. But I need to check on the girls first, they must be starving too. We've been on the run for several days now."
He said it like he wasn't desperate to see his sisters, yet it was painfully obvious.
Cortana nodded and smiled, she grabbed his arm to walk with him.
"You have to tell me all about it." she demanded.
"I will. And I promise you won't like it."
Their way to the medical bay was escorted by two fireteams, again; but only the three of them entered the sealed facilities. Osman's technicians were standing aside. In the center of the aisle Dr. Quinn was scolding some other man, the look in his face was half annoyed, half penitent; the badges pinned in his lab uniform confirmed he was the head technician of Osman's crew. The Doctor pointed out of the aisle and the man spat something back, but then he left. When he passed by the Chief, Cortana and the other young man, he gave them a looming look but didn't say anything.
"The nerve of that asshole." Dr. Quinn said when they approached.
"What was that?" asked Eleven, immediately. "Where are my sisters?"
"Don't worry, I won't let them lay a finger on my patients as long as they're under my watch. One of them is just a baby girl and the other one can't defend herself, this is outrageous. I will personally denounce this to Lord Hood." the woman was really angry, she pushed her glasses up with her middle finger. She looked at the Chief and nodded. "Visitors are not allowed, but I guess we can make a little exception. Five minutes only. This way."
Behind a wide metallic hatch there was an enormous white room sub-divided with panels and narrow hallways, each constricted cubicle contained a bunk bed screwed to the floor grating and medical equipment. Some cubicles were sealed with glass doors. Most of them were occupied and the nurses were running up and down the hallways with trays or equipment, tending the needs of the patients. The majority of the interns were survivors of the Rampant Spike's recent attack, the severity of their injuries varied and there were at least one or two casualties every day.
John didn't look away, neither did Cortana or her sibling.
The Chief just gritted his teeth beneath the blank expression of his face and kept going, trying to ignore the disgusting weight settled down his stomach. He was used to see the consequences of war, but this was something entirely different. The Doctor lead them to another hatch and other kind of quarters, more private and secured. She stood beside a door and looked at Eleven right in the eyes:
"Five minutes." she repeated, and pressed her palm in the wall's pad.
"How are they?"
"Pretty much healthy, but exhausted and they don't want to go to sleep. I guess it has something to do with you, so... keep in mind that we're a little short on sedatives and other people need them more desperately. I'll be right back."
He nodded, tossed his messy hair back and straightened his pose. The Doctor left and when the door slid open, Eleven entered the room. Cortana and John waited outside, watching through the glass at the little child and the woman who jumped off the bunk bed and ran towards the young man. He kneeled down to grab the child and stood up to face his other sister, the three of them merged in a hug. It looked like the most ordinary thing in the world, yet it was somewhat disturbing.
Cortana felt something ache inside her. She wanted to be there, with them.
It was like gravity, dragging her towards the rest of... herself?
"You want to join them." John said, observant.
"Is it that evident?" she chuckled, forlornly.
"Then why don't you do it?"
"It's not... I don't know, Chief. Not yet. I don't want to get involved."
He softly arched an eyebrow, doubtful, but he looked back at the sealed room and leaned against the wall. Really, what was he supposed to do with this? He wasn't trained to handle the sudden return of several human-shaped split personalities of his once AI field partner. John was pretty much used to improvisation but he didn't like to improvise over unknown circumstances, it was the kind of shit that could get you and your entire team killed. It wasn't his job to assume things, either.
He would have to play along, then, waiting for things to unfold.
A yielding sigh from Cortana called out his attention, again.
She didn't look at him but she crouched against the wall, next to John, looking for his protection. She was hugging herself beneath the hooded sweatshirt.
"You know what the primary directive of a combat core is, Chief?" she muttered, almost to herself. Since John didn't say a word, she continued: "To protect. My combat core was instructed to protect you, my logical, mathematical and strategic cores were instructed to assist you. My personality core, however... well, there were no directives there. I liked you all by myself, nobody instructed me that."
"Do you trust him?"
"Of course not. But I believe him, so you can't shoot him just yet."
John wondered if it would be helpful to lay a hand on her shoulder, since Cortana looked so stressed. He chose not to, but couldn't shake off the uneasiness either.
AUGUST 7TH 2558
LOCATION: UNSC INFINITY
9:38 PM standard time
After a haircut, a deeper medical scan conducted by Dr. Quinn herself and a quick shower, Subject Eleven reunited with Cortana and the Chief for a meal. The SPARTAN still wasn't talking much, but the food was decent: it looked like diced potatoes, soy beans and curry, accompanied with juice made of almost real oranges. Once per week, the Infinity's kitchen served a more Earth-like menu to remind everyone that they still had a home. It was far better than the designated rations of dehydrated food, carb-bars and chemically enhanced water.
John didn't mind much, he was used to eat almost anything that wasn't poisonous and keep going; nutrition was necessary, taste aside. The entire meal elapsed in stressed silence, glances shooting from ones to the others.
When he finished, the Chief picked up the empty tray and left the table.
"He's way more silent than I remember." Eleven said, a hint of guilt in his voice.
"You can't blame him." Cortana muttered, stirring the curry with a plastic spoon.
"I don't blame him. It's so much to take in, I imagine that even a SPARTAN needs to process this somehow. Besides, I bet this male shape is not exactly of his liking..."
"He doesn't care about that, the Chief reacted the same when I showed up."
"No kidding. It's been a while, I wonder how did he..."
Eleven trailed off, lowering his gaze. Cortana understood, she was wondering the same. Although she had the chance to read his service file -at least, all the parts that she could hack without being caught-, she still wondered how did John manage to move on from their separation aboard the Mantle's Approach. She knew he was a tough guy and he survived far, far worse in the past, but this was different, it wasn't the kind of wound that you could patch up and just keep going.
She changed John as much as he changed her. She gave him something different than a purpose, so he...
"Well, he has a dog now." she smiled softly.
Eleven frowned, placing his spoon down in the tray.
"A dog? You mean one of those UNSC enhanced tactical dogs or a dog-dog?"
"Her name is Charley. UNSC K-9." Cortana nodded, her smile grew wider.
"... well, I guess he's kind of a dog person. Dogs are loyal and obedient."
"He's more like a 'whatever they need me to be' person."
The man snorted, annoyed. "Yeah. I bet she's a super-badass dog too, isn't she?"
"Did you expect any less of the Master Chief himself?"
They looked at each other for a short moment, then Eleven returned to his meal. The standard-issue haircut suited him nicely, he looked more like a professional soldier now. Clean, sharp. Cortana took in another spoon full of food and chewed slowly while watching him. It was easy to talk with this man, like... well, she was technically talking with herself, but this way it didn't sound so insane.
If only the agglomeration of her rampancy made flesh was this reasonable.
"What happened to Two? Why does she have brain damage?" she asked.
Eleven swallowed and shook his head.
"Two was almost perfect. She had only one flaw: she couldn't take it." he said, his eyes drifted over the tinny surface of the table. "She tried to become our former self, she wanted all the knowledge, but her brain is human. It isn't made to run as fast as an AI's core, her cognitive processes saturated and became unstable. Her brain just gave up and shut down. She's not a vegetable but she barely notices anything besides me or Twelve, she almost can't speak."
"I'm sorry."
"The Rampant pushed her forward." he mumbled. "She's bat-shit crazy and wants to be the only Cortana left alive. But we all think alike and I'm sure we can outsmart her. I just need someone to hold that insane bitch down long enough for me to blow her head up and be done with it."
Cortana frowned, somewhat scared, and left her spoon on the table.
Eleven pushed his tray aside and looked up. John was heading back to them.
"Don't look at me like that. I shoot at things, I don't negotiate." he stated.
"It reminds me of someone we know."
"Isn't that why we like him?" the man smiled, wryly.
The Chief walked by and instead of taking a seat again, he kept walking towards the exit. He met back there with fireteam Majestic, they exchanged salutes. The look in the team leader's eyes said more than a thousand words; he was absolutely ready to open fire at the slightest evidence of threat. Eleven crossed his arms over the table, studying De Marco, Madsen and Hoya's faces with interest.
"I'm glad Dr. Halsey bailed you out in time." Cortana said, sighing. "She helped us too, we were attacked by the Rampant Spike weeks ago. I thought we were goners, we weren't ready."
"Dr. Halsey?" he frowned, confused. Then he remembered something, and opened his mouth, now surprised. "Oh, you sure mean Catherine. She's not Dr. Halsey, well... not the real Dr. Halsey, anyway; she's our older sister, Subject One. She was the first of us to make it through the recomposition* process alive."
Cortana realized her mandible was hanging open after a short while.
"What?" she spat, alarmed.
"What?" he repeated, confused.
"What do you mean she's not the real Dr. Halsey? She knows things, things that only the real Catherine Halsey would know..."
"Well, I don't know about that, but I'm sure she's not the person you think she is. Catherine has a glyph like us, too." he flashed his left wrist.
She frowned. Then, she remembered that, the whole time they were together at the Fortress, the young Dr. Halsey called John by his serial number, she only called him by name when she said goodbye. Eleven's words made a little more sense, since from ever she could recall, Catherine Halsey refused to think of her precious SPARTANS as dull military machinery. Dr. Halsey always used their given names when addressing to them.
"But, if it wasn't Dr. Halsey, then… who recomposed Catherine?" Cortana asked.
"Uh, I think she did it herself."
Cortana had to stop for a full minute this time, to think. Inefficient human brain. She didn't have all the information required to put the pieces together, it was the most frustrating thing ever happened to her.
"How on Earth and the stars is something like that even possible?" she gave up.
"We were developed after a flash-clone of Dr. Halsey's brain, weren't we? These physical beings are products of the same desire: to be reunited with John. If given such a powerful reason, wouldn't you try to achieve the impossible?"
TO BE CONTINUED
*Cortana and the Chief were paired in 2552, she died in 2557. So little time, so much memories.
*About "recomposition" and it not being an actual word… well, yes, here's me, making up words much needed for this fanfic xD Such crap. Very wow. Deal with it.
Whoa, long chapter there, fellows. How about Cortana's siblings? :P We are not talking about the crazy suicidal scheme of kidnapping and crashing the Infinity because of reasons, right? I like that ship too much, it would be such a shame if it gets ruined :P You better wait and see how that unfolds, it would be quite the ride -evil laughter- I'm wondering how's the Arbiter doing, I kind of miss him xD
Guest; thanks for being here! :D good to see you around -hugs-
Mk15; the art is on its way, I need time to get it finished and then I'll post it in my DA account, but it's too soon to show you what I have in mind -evil smirk- remember, even SPARTANS started as stick figures in someone's mind xD
Thanks so much for following, faving and reviewing this story, guys! It helps to keep you updated about new chapters and stuff! See you next Sunday!