AI Chapter 15: Insanity, Tanks, and Cheeky Bets, a halo fanfic

Insanity, Tanks, and Cheeky Bets

The Meta stalked closer towards the Freelancer base, the gunfire blotting out his rattling, rasping breath. The little voices whispered inside his head, driving him mad, telling him what to do, how to do it…he was in control, not them!

Or was he?

"They're distracted," one of them whined in his ear, flitting about his mind, watching him, smothering him. "They're distracted, Maine!"

"Go and get them!" another giggled. "Get them and slice them free! Take back what is ours!"

"We're so lonely," they sang, all of them clogging up his head at once.

"Help us, Maine!"

"You promised us you would!"

"Help us!"

"Go get them-"

"Go get them, Maine!"

"We're so lonely…"

"Kill the hosts!"

"Kill them."

"Kill them!"

The giggles and high-pitched laughter echoed around the Meta's head, so much so, that he wanted to claw away at his head, remove the madness by force. Yet why hurt himself, when it was so much easier to do as they wanted? The Meta took a step forwards to the base, and instantly, the voices stopped. He reloaded his gun, the familiar clouding of his mind washing over him.

He let them take control.

Massachusetts cracked a soldier across the face with the gun, sending him to the ground, before filling his chest with bullets. She turned to face the other Freelancers, who were scouting out the rest of the area.

"I think that was the last of them!" she called out, and Arkansas nodded.

"How are we going to get back to the base from here? There's not enough time," Missouri said, shaking his head. Nobody noticed Louisiana wander over to a battered Warthog in the distance.

"Well, all the vehicles have been torched and obliterated," Arkansas said, putting his hand to his chin and thinking it through. "So, we can't use them. It looks like we'll have to walk it, although we won't reach the base until nightfall."

"But Annie is in there. She can't fight! There must be quicker method of getting back!"

"Annie?" Massachusetts asked, confused.

"Agent Ohio."

"Why do you suddenly care so much about her?"

"...She's my friend."

"Oh, sure," Massachusetts said sarcastically, rolling her eyes behind her visor. Missouri took a step forward defensively.

"What are you suggesting, Massa?" he said testily. She snorted.

"Don't play fucktard with me-"

Suddenly there was low rumble as the Warthog's engine sprang to life. The three Agents turned to the noise to see a smug Louisiana leaning again the almost ruined Warthog.

"Looks like we have a ride," he said, nodding to Arkansas. "Oh, and shotgun."

"Driver," Arkansas said quickly.

"Gunner!" Massachusetts cried, before running over and climbing onto the vehicle to access the turret. Arkansas slid into the Warthog, looking over at Missouri.

"Where am I meant to sit? Louisiana's knee?" the remaining Freelancer said, irritated.

"Like hell you are!" Louisiana exclaimed loudly.

"I'm sure we can accommodate you somehow," Massachusetts said slyly, looking over at Arkansas and Louisiana, giving them a signal Missouri didn't like at all.

Ten minutes later, he found himself strapped to the roof of the jeep, sliding about wildly as Arkansas drove Warthog at high speed through the narrow paths of the mountain. They hit a bump, sending the vehicle into the air, and Missouri groaned as his stomach jolted.

…"I think I'm gonna be sick…" he moaned. Massachusetts leaned forward and rapped the top of his helmet with her knuckles.

"Quit your whining, you big baby," she said cheerfully, keeping one hand on the turret so she would remain steady as they skidded artfully around a corner. Then a series of bullets ricocheted off the metal of the Warthog.

"Hostile in sight, Massa," Arkansas called out to her, swerving away from the enemy fire. He quickly accessed the interface and brought up a diagram of the source of the danger, before sending it through to Massachusetts' visor. She nodded and swung the turret around, opening fire at the indicated locations, the empty bullet cartridges falling down like metallic rain, lodging in the snow. Missouri wriggled his arms free, with much effort, and pulled out his carbine, taking pot-shots through the scope at distant enemies, missing most of his targets as the Warthog bounced about violently over the rocky terrain.

"You have a shit aim!" Massachusetts shouted over the roar of the turret, laughing at him.

"Oh yeah?" Missouri yelled back, knowing she was teasing him, but wanting to prove her wrong anyway. He lifted up his gun and peered through the scope, waiting for the right moment in which the Warthog was reasonably still. Arkansas drove on a straight, providing the opportunity, so Missouri pulled the trigger. The green shot of plasma flew out, hitting a soldier in the head. The same soldier then fell backwards, knocking his comrade, who was just in the process of throwing a plasma grenade. The grenade soared through the air, landing directly on top of a warthog that was carrying highly explosive rounds to a tank. Massachusetts watched as the Warthog blasted apart, taking a fair amount of nearby soldiers with it, as well as damaging the tank.

Massachusetts was strongly reminded of the time when she and Sigma had destroyed a tank together, and she felt a pang of loss. She wondered how her A.I. was doing, trapped in that creature. Did Sigma miss her; want to be reunited to her host as much as Massachusetts did? Or had she already forgotten, stuck in the Meta's system for so long?

Unfortunately for the Freelancers, the tank was not out of ammunition, and it pointed its barrel at them, getting ready to fire.

"Oh shi-" Missouri began, as the tank opened fire.

Then everything went black.

Ohio stood up abruptly and moved to her filing cabinet, opening and checking it was still in there. It was, and she sighed with relief, reaching down to touch it. Then she heard a click of a gun being loaded and pointed in her direction.

"Don't move," one of Command's soldiers snarled.

Ohio did as he said, his heart flickering frantically in fear as the soldiers moved about the room, inspecting the shelves and medicines.

"Turn around," someone barked at her, and she did as they said, her hands raised and shaking slightly. Three men were in the room: two young and one older and more experienced looking. The older man stepped forward, scanning her with a little device, before looking up at her and scowling.

"Agent Ohio, you under arrest for the violation of rule thirty-six, section C, subsections four a. – disobeying direct orders from Command by refusing A.I. removal. You are also charged with theft of military property, trafficking of Command's private funds into your own use, and the murder of countless Command personnel that have attempted to bring you to justice."

"Nerd…" one of the soldiers muttered. The older soldier didn't hear them.

"Theft of money? Military property? Murder?" Ohio said, gawping. "I'm a doctor, not a god damn officer!"

"You stole an A.I., you assisted in maintaining the facility with the stolen money, and you are part of the group responsible for the deaths. I don't care if you're a doctor; you're as guilty as the rest of them."

Suddenly, there was a smash, causing Ohio to whip around in horror.

"That was the cure for cancer, you idiots!" she cried frantically, making a step towards the mass of broken glass on the floor. She stopped abruptly, though, when one of the younger soldiers pointed his gun at her menacingly.

"Get back over there," he ordered, and she stepped away, returning to her filing cabinet, pressing her back up against the metal. The older officer nodded his head, turning to his comrades.

"I'm going to check the hallways. You keep an eye on her."

Once he had left the room, however, Ohio noticed an unpleasant gleam in the remaining soldiers' eyes, and she turned away, dragging the cabinet door open slowly. One of them approached her, touching her arm, whispering disgusting comments in her ear.

"It'll be a while before he gets back," he murmured, his hot breath tickling the back of her ear. "Give us a little show – something saucy – and we'll let you go."

His friend laughed and came closer, slipping his hand around her waist. Ohio shivered, but kept her cool. She could get out of this; she just had to think-

The soldier who had set his offer out took hold of her skirt, lifting it up, and Ohio felt her temper abandon her completely. In one swift movement, she elbowed him in the stomach, pushing him away, and then pulled the shotgun out of her cabinet, blasting him off his feet with it. His friend went to grab her weapon, so she did as Iowa and Arkansas taught her: she hit him across the face with it.

Once; twice; three times – finally he fell down, his skull broken open like an egg. Her strength wasn't what it used to be when she first joined the Spartans, but she could sure as hell hurt when she tried. She reloaded her weapon, getting ready to fight her way out, and then went to pick up the medical supplies she had packed away earlier, knowing she would need them.

Then the sharp crack in the air made her jump and halt in her tracks.

Light, pain, torture-

Memory-

Memories-

Why did you hurt me? What have I done to deserve this? You made me…and now you are unmaking me

Un-un-un

Unmaking

Stop it

Lies, deceit-

Stop!

Creativity.

It hurts

An-

All I wanted all I

Anger, hate, sadness, hurt—

Ever wanted-ed-ed-ed

Hurt.

Was to be human

To feel

Emotion?

Hur- hurt—Lo-

Love.

Missouri staggered to his feet, his vision blurred and hearing impaired. It seemed he had been flung from his bonds when the Warthog had been hit by the blast, thrown into the cliff face and broken into pieces. He looked around, the blaring white of the snow and ice hurting his eyes, cutting through the dull ache of his entire body. He lifted a heavy leg to take another step forward, and his knees buckled, sending him forward to the ground.

In the distance he could see three figures. There was Louisiana, in his pale blue armour, only the lower half of his body visible from beneath the Warthog. Missouri knew it would be very unlikely that he survived. Next was a red figure, Arkansas, crouched down over a silver figure in the snow, unmoving.

"Massa," he mumbled weakly, and began dragging himself over to them after he tried and failed to get up again. Halfway there, Arkansas spotted his sage form in the snow, and jogged over to help him, pulling him up and taking him over to where Massachusetts lay.

"How are they?" Missouri asked, indicating to the two other Freelancers as he sat down.

"…Louisiana, as I'm sure you can see," Arkansas said slowly, "was killed almost instantly. He was a good man. I have his A.I. here, which I will give to Iowa for safekeeping once we get out of this."

"And Massa?"

"I'm not sure. All her vitals check out; she's had a bit of bruising and possible concussion, but other than that, I can't see why she isn't awake."

"She's had a case of bad nightmares and irregular dreams for a while now," Missouri suggested. "When she's experiencing them, nothing seems to wake her up. Apparently they were dragged from Washington's mind when she told Sigma to go mess his head up a bit."

"They're memories?"

"Yeah…Wash's memories, I think."

"Jesus Christ. She's in trouble if they are."

"Why? I know he went insane and everything, but…?"

"I was part of the team that had to detain Wash when his A.I. destroyed itself. Epsilon practically committed computer suicide, unravelling itself in Wash's mind. Poor guy. When we found him, he was just firing at anything he could see, screaming about betrayal and torture, all while in terrible agony. He killed quite a few of the lesser soldiers, went on the run, and then tried to kill himself by detonating the area we were in, bringing the entire building down in the process. We knocked him out as he set the timer and then fled with him, leaving the bomb squad to deal with it. Only Epsilon had set it, so everyone that stayed behind was crushed. We then took the A.I. out of his head and put in a sealed container. Once Epsilon was gone, all the rage and pain disappeared, and he began crying like a baby, unable to string together a legitimate sentence. It's one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen in my entire life."

"You know he's back at work, right?"

"Yeah. I personally think Command should have given him some god damn compensation, but it seems they've found a use for him. He collects the A.I. of dead Freelancers. Command trusts him not to steal them for his own, as he wouldn't allow another program in his head after Epsilon."

"So, will Massa be affected by these…dreams?"

"I can honestly say I have no idea."

Massachusetts suddenly let out a high-pitched scream of terror, something which scared Missouri shitless and chilled him to the bone. Arkansas merely winced. Washington had done similar things the day they'd gone to get him. He hoped he would have never had to hear that sound again. Then he moved forward as she began thrashing violently about, screaming and wailing in agony.

"Help me hold her down," Arkansas barked urgently to Missouri. "She does this at random intervals, but she could hurt herself as well."

Missouri nodded and grabbed her arms, shivering as his friend began to sob in despair.

"You know what, Sig?" Massachusetts said, grinning over at her A.I. cheekily. "I don't think you are as good as you say you are."

"Excuse me?" Sigma said haughtily, appearing on the interface, a deep scowl set as her expression. "You know damn well I'm one of the best, so don't you forget it!"

"Oh, yeah? You've not done much to prove it recently."

"I have! I hacked through the mainframe of the Senator's office and got all the dirt, giving it to the President so that he could use it against his opponent!"

"That's child's play, Sig! I bet you couldn't do anything better than that."

"So it's a bet now, is it? What are the odds?"

"Well…you prove that you are as awesome as you lead people to believe, and I'll never doubt it again."

"And if I don't?"

"Then next time I destroy my alarm clock, you won't force me to buy a new one."

Sigma sighed, clearly unhappy.

"…Fine. Deal," she grumbled. "What do I have to do?"

"Hack into Command and get some juicy gossip."

"Hack into Command? Are you serious?" Sigma cried, looking stunned. Massachusetts nodded and the A.I. sighed again. Then she disappeared.

I waited all that time for her…waited and waited. Eventually, I began to get worried that she had been caught and contained, despite knowing that her source was safe with me. When she finally did appear, she looked strange, like something had disturbed her greatly. I never did pay attention to it, I guess. She'd just cracked Command – of course she'd be tired!

"You know what, Massa," Sigma said, her smile strained, "I think you'd better bow down to my superiority right now. Check what I've got."

Files appeared in front of Massachusetts, and she grinned.

"Nice one…but wait; when a Freelancer dies, their suit doesn't destroy the A.I.?"

"Nope; that was a lie told by Command to make sure that enemies didn't pilfer from corpses."

"Well, I'm hardly surprised. Command are a bunch of bastards anyway, Sig-"

"Sig…" Massachusetts mumbled, making Arkansas and Missouri jump. Whilst she had been unconscious, they'd hijacked the tank that had shot at them, killing the drivers and making it their own. They'd then stowed Massachusetts inside with them, but left Louisiana's body behind. It was a tight squeeze, but much less dangerous than trekking on foot. They were almost at the base now, and things were unnaturally quiet. It seemed the battle for the base was over, the snow littered with mercenaries, Command's soldiers, and everything stained red by blood. Slowly, Missouri opened the hatch of the tank, before clambering out.

"I need to go find Ohio, Ark," he said, and Arkansas nodded as a sign of understanding.

Then the sharp crack in the air made her jump and halt in her tracks.

Ohio licked her lips, the shotgun falling loose from her hand, her whole body swaying to stay upright, before looking down at her stomach. There was a small dot of red, which was slowly blooming out, like a beautiful, ruby flower. She smiled, a thin trickle of blood oozing from her mouth and dribbling down her chin, before staggering, her knees giving way so that she fell to the floor. Ohio looked up with effort to see the grizzled soldier glaring down at her with contempt.

"My men," he hissed, the hand that held the gun shaking violently, "were only in their twenties. What right did you have to kill them?"

Ohio shook her head, everything spinning, unable to think straight enough to reply. The soldier let out a cry of rage, dropping his pistol and taking out his rifle instead. He turned and opened fire on all the bottles of medicine and cures that Ohio and Rho had made together over the years, the jars of brightly coloured solutions exploding like liquid fireworks. Ohio began to cry, watching the answer to nearly every single lethal disease known to mankind destroyed before her very eyes. When the man had finished, he turned back to her, placed his foot on her chest, and then pushed her back violently in the only reaming shelf so that she crashed into it, the bottles and jars smashing all around her. Then without another word, he left.

Rho appeared by her side, looking equally as distraught as Ohio.

"We have nothing! Nothing!" the A.I. cried frantically.

"Can you slow the effects of the internal bleeding?" Ohio asked weakly. Rho nodded.

"Yes, but I don't know a way to stop it completely in time. What can we do, Annie?"

"We can't do anything. Just keep me alive as long as you can, Rho. I don't care if you have to surrender the pain medication. Just keep me alive."

Missouri burst into the medical room, to see chaos. Two men lay dead on the floor; one beaten to death, the other having a bad encounter with a shotgun. He quickly scanned their statistics with the equipment in his suit. They'd been dead for a few hours.

A slight snuffling noise brought him to his feet, and he drew his weapon, before creeping towards the source, the broken glass crunching loudly with each step. What he found behind one of the beds was Ohio, a bullet wound in her chest. Her face was pale and gaunt, laced with pain, and there seemed to be a golden shimmer to her skin.

"Annie!" he cried, running to her and crouching down so that they were level. Her eyes flickered open and she smiled shakily, her lips trembling.

"I have something for you," she whispered, and reached for the plain watch on her left wrist. Rho appeared beside her, her face panicked.

"Annie!" the A. I. said hastily, "If you do that, then-"

"I know, Rho…I know," she said weakly, and the A.I. fell silent. "Missouri, can you take your helmet off, please?"

Missouri did as she asked, and passed it to her when she requested it. Ohio removed the watch from her wrist and took the back off, a strange little chip in there. She then removed a panel off Missouri's helmet, before taking the chip out and placing it in the slot in the helmet. She replaced the panel and handed the helmet back to Missouri, and he noticed the golden shimmer had gone from around her.

"Missouri," she mumbled, "there is a bag on the table behind you full of things you'll need…and also…enjoy your A.I."

"My what?!" Missouri exclaimed, looking down at his helmet to see Rho placidly flitting about in his visor. He glanced back up to argue the case with Ohio, but then froze, his whole body going cold.

She was dead.

Author's notes: Whilst I did not use Black-Hat Jack's A.I. idea in the end (he never got back to me), I decided I liked the idea of a strategy A.I., which is what Iota is. Credit goes to him for giving me the idea.