by Peter David
“They will abandon it or be destroyed. And now, Arbiter, if it is all the same to you, I would like to return home for a—”
“It is actually not all the same to me. Your presence is required here. I have a new assignment for you.”
Usze ‘Taham tried to refrain from sighing heavily and only partly succeeded. Whatever the Arbiter wanted from him, Usze’s inclination was to try and beg off. He had been out in the field for quite some time, and he would have liked a brief opportunity to visit his own keep and kin, especially given the current conflict that embroiled the entire planet. But he stopped himself—if the Arbiter had need of him, it was not Usze’s place to question or refute it. He knew the Arbiter well enough to be aware that there was likely a very important reason for it.
So instead he simply replied: “What do you require of me, Arbiter?”
“Come here to my keep. We will discuss it further.”
“To your keep?” He was mildly surprised at that. The Arbiter had never felt the need to summon him there.
“Yes. I do not wish to discuss this over a communications network.”
“Very well. I will make haste. It should not take me long to get there.” He paused and then said, with just a touch of irony, “Should I be concerned?”
He was disturbed by the long silence on the communications unit before the Arbiter finally responded. “Just get here as quickly as you can.”
“Yes, Arbiter.” Usze was about to ask more questions, but then the link went dead.
That cannot be good, he thought.
The region of Vadam was a valley leading into the harbor, and all the lands, homes, and properties that were a part of it were scattered about. The Arbiter’s keep was a large, castle-like fortress built into the base of the Kolaar Mountain. Usze had seen images of it and even the occasional etching, but had never had the opportunity to visit it firsthand. It was a sprawling vista, and he wondered what it would have been like to grow up in such a glorious area. The white-capped mountains stretched toward the skies of Sanghelios as if they were caressing it, and there were expansive groves of trees all around.
Fellow Elites nodded to Usze in greeting as he entered the Arbiter’s main complex. He found their attitude to be quite welcoming. Far too many times, he had arrived at various keeps and had encountered mostly suspicion from its residents, as if they were convinced he was there in order to commit some manner of crime. However, given the state of Sanghelios, such responses should probably not come as a surprise to him.
He was met by servants of the Arbiter and brought immediately before him. The Arbiter was in a large study that was remarkably devoid of furnishings. There were quite a few of the ancient texts propped open, but otherwise, aside from a few chairs and a single desk, that was all. Upon Usze’s arrival, the Arbiter was behind the desk, reading something, and his loyal soldier stood patiently and waited until the Arbiter was prepared to shift his attention to him. His clothing was black and red, consisting of ebony sleeves and leggings and a crimson tunic that overhung it. He was not sporting any armor. Usze considered that to be an outward manifestation of the Arbiter’s confidence of his safety within the keep. Even in the throes of civil war, which Sanghelios had endured since the end of the conflict with the humans, the Arbiter exuded certainty and calm. Although he had sought peace and unity upon his return, the alliance he held with the humans dissuaded many Sangheili, and the result was inevitably violent.
Finally the Arbiter put down his volume and settled his level gaze upon Usze.
“Perhaps there was a shred of truth amid the Prophets’ lies. Life in the galaxy may be coming to an end,” he said.
Usze blinked several times, clearly not understanding what he was being told. “Forgive me, Arbiter—what did you just say?”
“I said, life in the galaxy may be coming to an end. Perhaps they were right and the Great Journey cannot be stopped.”
Usze ‘Taham tried to process what he was being told, to analyze the words, and nothing was making a good deal of sense. “Is that intended to be humorous, Arbiter?”
“The Halo rings have been activated. They are counting down, and the estimate is that in four and a half weekly cycles, they are going to fire.”
Usze stared at him. “Fire? You mean . . .”
“I do indeed. The humans first discovered it,” said the Arbiter, and he gave a quick summary of how the matter had been uncovered and those who were responsible for it. “After studying the situation extensively, the humans have concluded . . . and I would agree with them . . . that the instruction for Halo’s activation could only have originated from the Ark. It is the only thing that makes sense.”
“The Ark?” Usze shook his head. “I was unaware that the Ark was even functional at this point.”
“I had been similarly uncertain of just how much of the Ark was operative,” said the Arbiter, “given the state it was left in.” He leaned back in his chair, intertwining his fingers. “Based on this new information, however, I believe we must arrive at the conclusion that it is at least capable of instructing the rings to be activated.”
“But why? Apologies for my ignorance, but I do not understand,” said Usze.
“Nor do I.”
“Were they not designed to respond to humans alone? How could they just suddenly become active? Gods or not, the Forerunners would certainly not have done such a thing.”
“And do we know that for certain?” said the Arbiter. “We believe we know why they created it eons ago: to serve as a last defense, a foundry for Halo, and a preserve to save various sentient species in the galaxy. But perhaps it was also constructed with some manner of what they would consider to be a fail-safe. Perhaps when the Ark was damaged, it set into motion this process as an automated response to the real possibility that, if the Ark had truly fallen, the entire galaxy would follow shortly thereafter. And we are only now bearing the fruits of that fateful event: another attempt to stamp out the spread of the Flood on a galactic scale, as was done many millennia ago.”
“I still do not understand,” said Usze. “I am not saying that it is impossible, but why now, after all that has happened? It does not make sense to me.”
“Nor does it to me, or to my advisors here in Vadam,” agreed the Arbiter. “But we have no other choice, given the evidence. We must assume that something, whether an automated fail-safe or some hidden malefactor, has initiated Halo’s activation, and whatever that might be can only be uncovered at the Ark. The hope is that we will be able to learn that for ourselves. And to that end, your service will be required. It is the intention of the humans to mount an expedition to the Ark. To determine what has triggered the rings and to see if it is possible to reverse the process.”
Usze ran some quick calculations through his head. “If they depart immediately, it will still take several monthly cycles to reach the installation. You are telling me that we have far less time as a luxury.”
“That is correct. But there is more than one path to the Ark.”
That was when Usze understood. “The portal. The humans want to open the portal.”
“Yes.”
The Arbiter touched a control panel on the desk and a holographic image appeared, floating in the air in front of him. It was of a planet and Usze immediately recognized it. “That is the human’s homeworld.”
“Earth. They intend to use the very same portal we used years ago, the one the Covenant excavated.” The Arbiter paused, as the holographic projection pulled in tight on the enormous portal artifact on the eastern coast of a large continent, and then resumed: “The Ark is a place that I assume you remember quite well.”
“It would be impossible for me to forget it.”
“As it is for me.”
“However, as I recall, the portal artifact had been deactivated, presumably due to the damage done to the Ark, when you and the Demon stopped the Flood.”
“That is correct,” said the Arbiter. “When the replacement Halo was activated, it
seemed to have destroyed, or at least disabled, the portal on the Ark’s end, which in turn shut down the portal on the Earth end. The human’s inability to activate it over the years is likely due to the other side of the portal being damaged. We must hope that there is another solution that lay dormant within the artifact itself—we have little choice otherwise.”
Usze’s mind flew back to the end of the war. Thel ‘Vadam was ultimately blamed by the High Prophets for failing to stop the human known as the Demon, called by his own people “Master Chief,” from destroying the first Halo the Covenant had discovered. That fateful destruction had been responsible for ‘Vadam’s eventual transition to the role of Arbiter. Although such a mantle was considered shameful at that time, in the wake of the war with the humans, it had gained new honor among those loyal to him.
How strange, Usze thought. There was a time when the rings were considered divine instruments capable of initiating the Great Journey. Some still believe them to be so. And now, in a way, I suppose they might be considered to be just that, if one thinks of the Great Journey as the ending of all thinking life in the galaxy.
“So, the portal is still not functional?”
“It is not,” said the Arbiter. “So it is necessary to repair it as soon as possible, since we are losing time with every passing second. The humans are converging on it even as we speak, summoning all available resources on their end. And you are going to meet them there. I would come also, but if I leave my enemies here unchecked on Sanghelios, there will be nothing left to return to for our people. I am putting a great amount of trust in you, Usze.”
“I understand, Arbiter. Fear not. I shall attend to it.”
“Not alone. I will be sending you and two others with you, to both facilitate the portal’s restoration and accompany the humans on this expedition.”
“Who are the others?”
“Do you remember N’tho ‘Sraom?”
“Of course,” Usze said immediately. “We served beside him together, though I have not seen him since we last departed from the Ark. He is certainly a fine warrior.”
“Good. He will be waiting at the shuttle to greet you. He, and the third member of your group. A Huragok.”
Usze’s mandibles twitched in surprise. The Huragok were an exceedingly odd race—strange, tentacled creatures who floated and fixed things, and that was all they seemingly did. “Truly?”
“Yes. He is perhaps the most critical piece to this puzzle. You seem startled.”
“I am. I was not aware that you had any left at your disposal.” After the Covenant fragmented, most of the remaining Huragok either perished or fled, just as it was with the Prophets.
“There are still a few whose whereabouts are known. This is one of those, and there is great need for it on this particular mission. Without the Forerunner Dreadnought used to activate the portal years ago, there is no conventional way that we know of to replicate that great ship’s interaction with the artifact. . . . except, perhaps, one: this Huragok. It was part of the entourage that attended the ascetic priests of old—the ones who had searched and examined the ancient warship for centuries. If there is a solution to activate the portal, this Huragok will find it. And you will serve N’tho in protecting the Huragok and doing whatever he requires of you.”
Once more, Usze hesitated. He had no idea how to frame the question, but finally he managed. “Is there any possibility that . . . combat will be required?”
“There is no telling what will be in store for you on the Ark itself, or what has survived since its fall. You both must be ready for anything.”
“I am not referring to the Ark, faithful leader.”
The Arbiter did not appear to understand. “Combat with whom? You mean the humans . . . ?” He made no attempt to hide his surprise. “Under what circumstance do you believe that could be a possibility?”
“It is not my disposition to react to situations as they occur, but instead to anticipate them and be on guard. Make no mistake, Arbiter,” he added quickly. “I do not share the hostility for the humans that many of our kind still possess. But we should not lose sight of the fact that there are very likely humans who in turn have no love for the Sangheili. We did obliterate many a world that their people called home. Countless lives were lost at our hands. I very much suspect that some humans harbor ill will for us.”
“I would not be concerned,” said the Arbiter. “I am confident that only the most cooperative humans will be permitted access to this vital project. All our lives are at stake, and I doubt that the humans would trust their future to anything save their very best.”
CHAPTER 4
* * *
Captain Annabelle Richards of Special Operations, serving under ONI administration, did not like the Sangheili.
At all.
So she had not been thrilled when Admiral Serin Osman had given her the assignment of overseeing the Voi project to repair the Excession site. She had wanted to tell Osman point-blank to get someone else, but that was simply not something one did with Osman. That was a good way to wind up being assigned to a satellite node on Pluto for the rest of her life.
There were, of course, steps she could have taken. Lord knew she had been serving her entire life in the military, and she had enough contacts to call on that likely would have enabled her to avoid the assignment in its entirety. However, the fact that Osman had handpicked Richards, especially considering the importance of the mission, was really something of a compliment. It meant that Osman trusted her, and one simply did not throw such trust back into the face of the Commander-in-Chief of ONI.
Richards was resting in her cabin within one of the many ONI facilities that occupied the border of the Excession, simply staring at the far wall, when there was a knock at her door. “Come,” she said briskly.
The door slid open and her aide strode in. In stark contrast to his superior, Lieutenant Carl Radeen was tall and burly; Richards herself was of medium height, and remarkably slender, so much so that her figure could easily be described as boyish. Certainly, if Richards hadn’t known better, she would have thought Radeen to be some manner of android. He never smiled or laughed or frowned or showed any measure of reaction to pretty much anything. His angular faced was topped by a close crew cut—another contrast to his commanding officer, with her shock of meticulously parted, shoulder-length red hair—and when he looked at Richards, as was his custom, he didn’t look right at her. Instead he focused on a space just to the right of her shoulder, as if into a nonexistent camera lens. She had no idea why Radeen never looked her in the eyes. It was probably some deeply ingrained concern over respect or something like that.
“The Sangheili have arrived,” Radeen informed her. “Their ship has just landed.”
Richards was immediately on her feet. “Then we shall greet them properly, Lieutenant.” She paused and then added, “Have Spartan Kodiak meet me there.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
Richards had already been preparing to leave the room but stopped in her place, unable to hide her surprise. Radeen never questioned her orders, ever. So his expressing uncertainty was more than enough to catch her off guard. She didn’t address the fact that he was challenging her, but instead the specifics of it. Kodiak was not only a formidable warrior—a twenty-year man in total and a Spartan for the past two—but he was exceptionally discreet. He didn’t speak unless spoken to and kept most of his sentences short. He had seemed the ideal person to put in charge of security for this mission, and when he had been given the assignment, his response had been nothing more than a quick head bob and a succinct, “Yes, Captain.” So the fact that Radeen now seemed a bit hesitant was surprising, and even disturbing.
“Why would it not be wise, Lieutenant? Kodiak is my chief Spartan for this op and head of security. Don’t you think he should be there for the initial meet and greet?”
“With all due respect, Captain, Spartan Kodiak’s antipathy for the Sangheili is quite a bit more pronounced tha
n yours. Perhaps having him keep a distance as much as possible might be the proper way to proceed.”
“He’s a Spartan,” Richards said firmly. “His job is to be able to adapt to whatever situation he finds himself in. Do you have an issue with his qualifications?”
“No, Captain.”
“Then make sure that he’s there.”
“Yes, Captain,” said Radeen.
Radeen was speaking on his comm unit as Richards headed out through a corridor and into the facility’s main courtyard. It shouldn’t be far; the facility itself was one of many that Naval Intelligence had erected over the past few years in their efforts to secure and study the artifact. Outside the courtyard’s main gate was a tarmac, where their visitors had been instructed to set down, and so the Sangheili would be reasonably nearby.
Richards approached the main gate, staring out across the vast airfield, and then beyond it to a full kilometer of African savannah stretching out toward the sudden drop-off of the Excession’s northwesternmost edge. On the tarmac itself were a handful of Pelican dropships, Sparrowhawks, and other combat-ready vehicles, as well as a series of distinct stations throughout, preparing and deploying F-99 Wombat security drones. There were dozens of these automated machines combing the skies over the Excession, ensuring that this operation would go on without any interference.
Various officers saluted her as she walked past, and she rapidly returned the salute without bothering to make eye contact. Her mind was preoccupied with how she was going to react upon coming face-to-face with the Sangheili. It was her first occasion to do so after the war, and she wasn’t entirely certain that she would be able to repress her anger at these . . . these creatures. . . .
They are not creatures. They’re simply a different and highly intelligent life-form from your own, and you should not hate them for that.
No, I hate them because they spent years trying to destroy us. If I didn’t hate them, I’d be insane.