by Kelly Gay
And then the firefight had ensued, which Annabelle had to admit was clever. Captain Forge had certainly covered her bases and created an inventive escape plan. Getting shot clean through by a needler hadn’t been in the cards, but Apollo’s team leader had acted quickly. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to apprehend the salvagers as planned.
Then the mysterious gray blur streaked into view.
Annabelle rewound the feed and watched again.
Chills covered her arms. She slowed the feed.
It couldn’t be. Goose bumps spread like wildfire over her skin as she watched the footage again, this time slowing the speed even more. There. She paused on the moment the blur grabbed Rion Forge out of the air.
And she knew exactly what she was looking at.
The fact that a Forerunner armiger had suddenly appeared like the cavalry was an intense shock. The last time she’d seen one had been in video footage during her time on the Ark. She’d been fortunate enough to be safe inside the Mayhem at the time, but even on screen, the armigers on the Ark’s surface had been sentient, deadly, and menacing in appearance, with their floating parts and glowing eyes. . . .
What in the hell was an ancient Forerunner armiger doing on Binterall? And more importantly, why was it rescuing Rion Forge, of all people?
Wait. Annabelle leaned in close to the screen and magnified several more times.
The armiger wore an Ace of Spades insignia on its shoulder.
Dread thrummed beneath her skin, cold and electric.
Oh God. No.
“Radeen!” The aide appeared almost instantly at her door as she hurried around her desk. “Tell them to stop containment! Don’t let that datacore into the facility! Go! Ferg!”
She ran down the hall and hurried into the elevator, heart pounding. Ferg hadn’t responded.
Annabelle had been racking her brain all this time, trying to figure out how two advanced ONI prowlers had failed to secure a civilian Mariner-class ship.
Now she damn well knew.
Monitors could control armigers.
343 Guilty Spark wasn’t just a damaged construct trapped in a datacore. He was in league with the salvagers, which meant he was free and operational. And none of this was an accident. Annabelle’s instincts were screaming, the awful realization eating at her insides as she paced the elevator, urging it to move faster.
“Annabelle? What the hell is going on?” Dr. Iqbal’s voice came over comms. “The fragment is still secure in the prowler’s containment pod.”
“Ferg!” she shouted as the elevator doors opened, breaking out at a dead run across the tarmac. “Initiate facility-wide shutdown! Now!”
It was all clicking neatly into place. It wasn’t the physical datacore she was worried about. It was the brief moments during which the datacore hadn’t been contained, when Rion Forge had tossed it to Agent Hahn, when the team had scanned it and bagged it.
Only a few seconds. That’s all the time it had needed.
Jesus.
Guilty Spark could have invaded their comms and units before the fighting on Binterall even erupted.
As she approached the hangar bays where the debriefings were being held, she came to a halt as all the power began to shut off. The bay doors closed.
“Radeen! Who’s initiating shutdown? Is it Ferg?”
“Director,” Radeen said with deadly calm that shook her to her core. “I’m in your office. It’s the video feed. The image . . . it’s corrupted. It’s streaming code. It’s—”
The comms went dead.
And Ferguson had cleaned up the video. Ferg, who wasn’t answering. It was in the video feed, and now it was in Ferg. “Goddamn it!”
She saw Dr. Iqbal hurrying out of the Bad Moon Rising, looking frazzled and confused. The tarmac was in a state of confusion and chaos as a ground shuttle lost power and ran up the edge of a Pelican’s open cargo ramp, flipping over, while a heavy drone fell from the sky and slammed into the edge of the tarmac and exploded. And Annabelle saw it all through a slow-motion lens of reaction and realization.
There was nothing wrong with Thea.
They’d all been played.
343 Guilty Spark and the crew of the Ace of Spades were working together.
God only knew what the monitor had promised them.
Idiots!
Idiots who were in league with one of the most formidable and unstable assets in the galaxy, one that now had compromised her facility and had her entire team locked in that hangar.
CHAPTER 45
* * *
Mount Kilimanjaro, Tanzania, Africa, Earth
Once Spark was finished communicating with the Ace of Spades, he blinked, turned around, and stared at Rion with a tilt to his head. The blue lines on his faceplate seemed to soften somewhat. If she had to guess, she’d say he was suddenly happy and eager to get started.
“What were you looking for?” she asked him.
“An old friend.” He walked past her without elaborating.
Rion sighed and then rounded up the crew. “All right, people, we’re headed out. And where the hell is Ram?”
They found him up the ravine, on his knees with a handful of dirt. Rion paused and gave him his moment, knowing that the experience could be quite profound for some. He was grinning as he lifted it to his nose and smelled. First time on Earth made people do strange things. Rion lifted her boot and gave him a playful shove. “You too, pilgrim, let’s go.”
Ram put the dirt in his pocket as he rose to his feet, swung his rifle from his back to his front, and fell in step with his companions, Spark leading the way and Rion bringing up the rear.
A few patches of forest clung to the ravine, reaching as far up the mountain as the climate would allow. The way was rocky and peppered with stretches of steep climbs and the occasional stream crossing. Lessa and Ram were enjoying the scenery and the sporadic monkey and bird sightings, while Niko slapped at his neck and groaned, “Oh, great.”
“They’re called mosquitoes,” Rion called ahead with a laugh.
“Little shits is more like it,” he grumbled, and slapped at his arm. “Damn bugs everywhere we go.”
“Maybe it’s just you—they’re not bothering me at all,” Lessa said, commencing yet another lovely little sibling argument that lasted most of the hike.
An hour passed, as the climb grew steeper and the progress slower. But at least they were staying on the slopes and avoiding the higher altitudes. Rion started to wonder if Spark knew where the hell he was going and was about to ask him when they edged around the lip of a steep rock outcrop and then ducked beneath a wide overhang.
“Lights on,” Rion said.
As they moved deeper under the rock, Less angled her light above them to highlight the overhang ceiling. “Wow. Look at that.” Dozens of ancient pictographs covered the rock—animals and hunters, hands and symbols, in clay ochre, charcoal, white.
The overhang led into the mountain. The darker the passage became, the more the pictographs seemed to leap off the rock and dangle in view.
“Careful here,” Spark said as he hopped down a short ledge.
They followed with caution and continued on, the cave broadening as they went and the scent of rock and earth growing stronger. Each breath and step was amplified in the hollow space.
“Looks like no one came past this point,” Lessa said. “The paintings are all gone.” Her light flashed over the rock walls.
“No, look,” Niko said, shining his light on a—
“Wait. That’s a Forerunner glyph.” Rion moved closer. It was hard to spot because it wasn’t painted on the wall, but carved and very old, indicating it might be more ancient than anything they’d seen so far.
“Are you sure about this?” Niko asked Spark. “How do you know the Librarian was here?”
It was now so dark that the hard blue light of the armiger’s body lit the confined space. As he turned toward Niko, his eyes seemed to hang there suspended like two glowing orbs. “She
mentioned the mountain in a message to her husband.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to go on?”
“No.”
When nothing else was forthcoming, Niko muttered, “Well, that’s reassuring.”
The armiger went forward into the shadows, this time more slowly to allow himself time to examine the walls. After a moment, he beckoned Rion over with one hand. “Here,” he said, pointing at a dark area in the rock wall.
Rion used her hand to brush away the years of rock dust and grime, and found an alloy panel inserted into the rock. The panel was edged with small glyphs and in the center was the outline of a large hand. “No question of what to do here,” she said, placing her hand on the glyph.
A shudder went through her palm as a loud crack echoed through the space. The rock all around them trembled, the vibration going through the soles of Rion’s boots and wobbling her legs.
Blue light appeared like a blowtorch, outlining the shape of a door.
Rion stumbled back. As the line completed its circuit, the doorway filled in with hard light. After a few moments the light vanished, leaving behind an open space in the shape of a tall door.
“Cool,” Niko murmured, heading past them toward the doorway.
Rion grabbed his collar and jerked him back.
“Ow!”
“Carefully,” she enunciated, pulling his weapon around and making him hold it. “Carefully.”
“Fine,” he said. “I get it. Carefully.”
The armiger led the way in.
“Eyes open,” she told the crew.
Rion wasn’t sure what they’d find next—maybe a Forerunner facility like the one they’d seen back on Triniel. But it was simply more rock, more darkness, and more stuffy, pungent air.
“Stay against the wall,” Spark told them, just as Rion had the distinct sensation that the entire space had suddenly opened up. Visibility was limited, but it became clear they were skirting some sort of drop-off.
“So what are we looking for?” Ram asked, his voice echoing into the darkness.
“A Sentinel,” the armiger answered.
“A what?”
The path leveled out and widened into what seemed to be a dead end.
“Armed protective drones. Two of them came to Earth in the final days, accompanying a Gargantua-class vessel.” Spark searched the wall again. “I should know—I sent them. Three came,” he said, glancing at them and pointing up. “Like the three peaks of the mountain.” He smiled. “Snowcapped Sentinels.”
“Two escorts and a giant ship . . .” Rion said thoughtfully. “Are you saying they’re here, under the mountains?”
Spark was barely paying attention, focused on brushing off a spot on the rock wall. “Not entirely. The Gargantua was used nearby to create the portal to the Ark. One Sentinel left the planet, escorting a Lifeworker’s keyship and its cargo of rescued humans.”
“And the other one?” Lessa asked.
“Stayed behind. Repurposed here beneath Mawenzi.”
“Why this peak and not the others?” Ram asked.
“Mawenzi overlooks Voi and the portal.”
“How could the Librarian have survived here?” Niko asked skeptically.
“I did not say she survived here.”
Rion paused. What the hell . . . ? Wasn’t that the whole reason he wanted to come to Earth in the first place? She opened her mouth to ask, but he moved and suddenly disappeared into the rock.
Upon inspection, Rion saw there was a break in the rock face: looked at head-on, it appeared to be a flat surface; however, when seen from an angle, a tall, narrow opening revealed itself, leading to a tunnel that zigzagged back and forth, hiding the light coming from the next chamber.
They emerged onto a wide ledge beneath an overhang, with some kind of light barrier in their way.
A terminal was situated off to the side. Rion stepped over to it and placed her hand on the domed pad. The barrier immediately vanished. They went slowly out onto the ledge. There was another terminal at its edge, and beyond that a ravine. Across the ravine was a peninsula of rock upon which a cylindrical light column emanated from a circular base; a large oblong shape hovered inside the column.
Rion could see another terminal in front of the light column, but there was no discernible way to get across the wide chasm.
“That doesn’t look like any drone I’ve ever seen,” Niko said.
“Because it is not. Not anymore. Its parts were used to create these structures,” Spark said, moving to the terminal.
Rion joined him. As soon as her hand touched the pad, a wide band of light shot from the ledge, straight across the divide to the other side. “It’s a light bridge,” she said. She’d seen a few working bridges in Covenant ships, but she had never actually walked on one.
“What?” Niko exclaimed. “Oh man, this is incredible.”
Spark approached the light bridge, lifted a foot, and stepped off the ledge and onto the solid light.
CHAPTER 46
* * *
We are now free to cross the divide. I begin, but notice that one of my companions does not follow.
Ah. He is leery of the hard light bridge.
As I walk back, Niko heads past me with no such wariness.
“Are you sure it’s not going to suddenly turn off?” Ram asks, taking his own tentative step, testing its validity.
“I am sure,” I say.
Rion slaps the Komoyan on the back and grins widely. “Finally. Something that rattles you. Glad I was here to witness the momentous event.”
Like Rion, I am amused at Ram’s expense. She and Lessa pass me, but I wait for him and we walk together to the platform.
Meanwhile I am in constant contact with my splinter. ONI’s shutdown procedures were expected and only serve to aid our nondetection as I complete my task here in the mountain. My splinter hunts for the eroded data from the expired Catalog recovered beneath the African savanna, as well as the logs of the remaining Catalog’s random intrusions into their network.
879 challenged me to find what I need. And so I am.
The Ace of Spades crew studies the hard light column emanating from the circular base of the platform.
I pause, intrigued by the wonder on their faces, the way the light reflects on their skin and brightens their eyes.
Our time together is nearly at an end.
I have enjoyed their different personalities and unpredictability, and I find there is hesitation in me to end our partnership.
And I continue to feel guilt for the lie I have kept close at hand.
Revealing to Rion Forge that her father is dead is an uncomfortable prospect, and I do not want to be the one to deliver such news.
Therefore I have decided against it. I have no intention of fulfilling the terms of our agreement.
With that dilemma out of the way, I face the column.
“Is she in there?” Lessa asks. “Your Librarian?”
“In a manner of speaking. This is, indeed, where our journey ends. After accessing this last terminal, I no longer have need of you.”
I stare through the light at the long, oval pod floating inside.
This is a Lifeworker pod, very common to the rate and familiar. It does not contain the Librarian, of course, but it does contain something else.
A gift, if I’m right.
“Well?” Rion is saying, and I am brought back to the moment. They are looking at me in an encouraging manner. All I have to do, once the barrier is down, is walk up the ramp and into the hard light. . . .
And yet I hesitate.
The siblings have not yet mastered the art of hiding emotion, not with any real degree of success. Ram Chalva has, but in this instance, he does not bother. Rion as well.
They all appear . . . happy. For me.
I am stunned.
Rion eyes the other side of the light bridge. I also sense in her some wariness and perhaps eagerness to be safely back on board her ship.
; Perhaps . . .
Perhaps after all I have put them through . . . I owe them some degree of honesty.
Fair dealings, then. I have changed my mind.
She meets my gaze and lifts her hand to access the terminal, which will disengage the barrier around the light column. Quickly I reach over and grab her wrist.
“What?” she asks, alarm in her dark eyes. “What’s wrong?”
My timing is wretched, I am aware. But I am suddenly certain that, yes, honoring my bargain is the best possible ending. Then I may move forward into the light, free of any guilt.
“There is something I must tell you.”
She frowns up at me and then down at my alloy fingers. I release her.
Suddenly I’m beset with indecision once more, just when I felt certain.
This shift is unacceptable. I must move on.
“Your father is dead,” I say.
There. I said it.
She blinks, then frowns deeply, stepping back as though I have physically struck her. Then she simply stares at me. There is no reaction at all. The crew looks at each other, stunned and confused.
I grow uncomfortable in the silence. “He never survived Etran Harborage.”
CHAPTER 47
* * *
“There had to be someone to stay behind and detonate the fusion reactor. He sacrificed his life.”
Spark continued to talk, to explain, but Rion couldn’t hear anything more through the rush of anguish barreling through her veins. Her mind floundered, congesting with denial.
“What is this?” she finally managed, her tone brittle as she gave a sharp, ridiculous laugh, blinking away the stinging in her eyes, and glancing at Spark and the crew, trying to find an anchor, a rescue from the unreal. “No . . . no.” She shook her head. “What is this? Why are you saying this?”