by Peter David
Vale prodded a bit more. “How is not having an imagination a strength?”
“Because a Spartan isn’t trained to have an imagination. We exist for one thing only: to complete the objective. Everything else is secondary. It doesn’t benefit me or anyone else to start contemplating about the architects of this site or their purposes or how they lived eons ago unless it’s immediately relevant to the crisis we’re trying to avert. We call it missional solvency—is it actionable or is it a distraction?”
“I’m not sure that’s necessarily true,” said Vale. “If you’re in dangerous situations, don’t you sometimes have to come up with some sort of creative strategy to get yourself out of it? Isn’t that thinking out of the box?”
“Ideally, a creative strategy is the planned strategy, and that kind of thinking has happened long beforehand. The goal on the battlefield is to limit the variables and unknowns, so there’s no need to be creative.”
“That doesn’t seem right to me. I think you’re selling yourself short. Making decisions at the spur of the moment requires some level of creativity and imagination.”
Holt actually laughed at that. It wasn’t more than a chuckle, but a sense of humor was definitely there. “Miss Vale, don’t get me wrong: I can fight better than most folks in the field, but I wasn’t selected as a Spartan because I gave a lot of thought to nonfactors; I was selected because I’m good with a weapon, and because I can react quickly in a pinch. Maybe there is some fiber of creativity in me, but at the end of the day, I’d like to think that all of the unknowns have been accounted for. Especially in an op like this.”
“Well, I’m glad that—”
“Hang on—quiet.”
“What?”
“Quiet,” he said with greater intensity.
Vale quickly saw that Holt was reacting to something that everyone around him was also responding to. N’tho, still in the lead, put up a hand to signal that everyone should stop, the other hand resting on the hilt of the energy sword fixed to his thigh. Drifts Randomly huddled behind the Elite, clearly recognizing its relative safety there. Richards unholstered her pistol and gestured to her men, and they immediately brought their rifles to bear.
Dropping her voice to barely above a whisper, Vale said, “What’s happening?”
“I hear something.”
She struggled to listen. At first, all she heard was the steady blowing of the increasing wind. But then . . . a low rumbling. . . .
No. Growling.
She shielded her eyes, trying to pick up the origin of the noise. She wasn’t seeing anything, however—nothing but a wide vista of endless snow, and with more falling from above. They had come down off a ravine and were traveling across a vast plain toward an outcropping of large boulders, when the storm moved in on them from out of nowhere, and it was now becoming angrier.
And here on the ground, there was now movement.
Everyone had their weapons up, and within seconds, Vale was able to discern exactly what was approaching.
Six creatures, appearing to be something like dinosaurs. They had no eyes or arms, but gargantuan fangs extended from the bottoms of their jaws, and nasty-looking teeth from the tops. They were bipedal, with a theropod-like anatomy, and slowly striding forward, their heads low and sweeping from side to side as if they were conning towers.
It was clear that they were moving toward the expedition with the intent of hunting them, like a pack of seasoned carnivores. This time, both the Sangheili and the UNSC soldiers leveled their weapons and were ready to open fire.
And then Vale whistled sharply. In unison, every head swiveled toward her.
“What the hell did you—?” Holt started to say.
She ignored him. Instead she shouted, “No one move! Don’t say anything! Don’t even breathe!”
The moment Vale shouted, the creatures bolted toward her, running across the white plain at high speed, bearing down on her.
Holt brought his weapon up to protect her but she shoved it down, putting a finger to her lips as she did so. Captain Richards, seeing what she was doing, did the same thing for her own soldiers, gesturing quickly that they should stay their weapons. Vale was pleased to see that Richards obviously trusted her, although she came to the bleak realization that if she was wrong, these creatures would likely tear them all apart before anyone could do anything to avert it.
Then she noticed that the Sangheili had their weapons fully at the ready. N’tho had removed his energy sword and was on the brink of activating it, while Usze was cradling an old, modified Covenant carbine with the intention of using it if necessary. The Elite had silently closed the gap between her and himself, his weapon now leveled at the incoming creatures. She supposed she should take some comfort in that.
The blind beasts still approached, but they were also now slowing. Moments earlier, their heads had been focused directly on where Vale had been standing, but now they appeared confused. One of them had taken the lead—the alpha. She had no idea how the things communicated with one another, but those behind the alpha fell back, making sure that they were able to follow its direction.
Vale remained rigid as the alpha drew within half a meter of her. Its head continued to sweep, but it was becoming visibly irritated. It snapped its great teeth in the air at random, and then let out a howling noise that sounded eerily like a wolf. Vale was holding her breath and was mildly surprised to realize that she wasn’t having any trouble doing that.
The alpha went still, as well. It was checking the air, its nostrils flaring. That sent an alarmed jolt through Vale, because there was nothing she could do about her scent, and if this thing was capable of locating her through smell rather than, as she suspected, hearing, that would be the end.
Slowly the alpha turned its head so that, if it had eyes, it would have been looking directly at her.
And then it turned away.
It walked right past her and the group and came within centimeters of touching Vale. She remained silent and still as the other five creatures followed the alpha, ignoring human and Sangheili alike as if they weren’t there. Within moments, the entire pack had moved on. Seconds later, they were back to their full speed and running off across the snowy ground, apparently on the hunt for some other hapless creature.
Vale let out a long sigh, realizing just how long she hadn’t been breathing.
“That was a very good call,” said Holt.
Richards gave her a thumbs-up and Vale returned it. She had to admit this was a major relief. She had guessed right: the strange animals zeroed in on their prey primarily by sound—
Wait a second.
There had been a low, guttural growling before the attack . . . but those creatures hadn’t really made any sound like it.
So where had the growling been coming from?
That was when she saw the rocks move, a number of large, snow-covered boulders at the center of the plain that Vale had first not been paying attention to.
They were not, in fact, rocks at all.
“Oh, crap,” whispered Vale.
The rocks now stood fully upon their thick-taloned paws, and they swung their heads into view. They were some manner of large, polar bear–like creatures, and these things most definitely had eyes. Not to mention large tusks extending from their mouths. Long, white fur rippled across their bodies, and they had horned protrusions sticking out of their backs. Abbreviated tails swept back and forth. These animals were the true source of the growling noises heard earlier. They had silenced themselves because of the other smaller animals on the hunt, but with the pack having moved on, these white-furred creatures were now running the show.
And there were many of them. They were approaching from the middle of the snowfield, a deep snarling in their throats. The snow crunched under their heavy paws as they advanced. Their faces were particularly fierce, now coming into view: between their two huge tusks and a pair of smaller horns, their mammalian snouts ended in three white-mandible pairs, one atop the
other. The closest creature splayed its mouth wide open, revealing row after row of razor sharp teeth.
And then it roared.
“Fire!” Captain Richards shouted.
The soldiers opened up, blasts hurtling in all directions. Kodiak had immediately moved into action, strafing off to the right, while the sole Elite guarding the rear of their group spun off to the left, following suit. Usze had moved between Vale and the front of the group, coming alongside N’tho and Kola, as they protected the Huragok.
Holt had his weapon poised, and without a thought, aggressively pulled Vale behind his own body and stood in a defensive posture in front of her. Any hint of the pleasantness he displayed earlier was gone. Now he was in full battle mode, as the white-furred creatures charged at their group.
They were fast, horribly fast. The first few were struck dead-on, doubling over because of their size and momentum and flipping end over end. But the others seemed to adjust quickly to the barrage and darted rapidly left and right, managing to avoid the opening salvo.
Despite Holt’s intention, Vale didn’t appreciate being considered defenseless on her own. She removed her own sidearm and began laying down fire at one of the creatures that had tracked off to their left.
Holt had moved to the right and was firing at one of the creatures that was coming straight at him. His blasts trailed it as it dodged and then lunged at him, slamming into the Spartan front-paws first. Holt went down and lost his rifle but managed to grab the animal’s forelegs and shove up with his knees, causing its large frame to spiral over his head. The Spartan scrambled to his feet, glancing around, trying to see where the gun had fallen to, but the weapon was buried somewhere in the snow. The white-furred creature charged again. Quickly Holt sidestepped, and as the creature tried to halt its forward movement, Holt grabbed it around its neck. He lifted it off its front feet, squeezing as hard as he could, trying to choke the life out of it.
It didn’t work—the creature managed to gain purchase with its hind feet, and it threw its body forward. In doing so, it broke the Spartan’s hold and with one swing of its heavy tusks, knocked him back.
Holt fell to the ground, and before he could get up again, the creature had scrambled forward and slammed its paws into his chest. Its weight was too great even for the Spartan to battle, and at that instant Holt must have realized he was looking straight into the mouth of death. It roared victoriously, its foul breath fogging his helmet’s visor.
A concentrated explosion sounded out, and the creature shook violently in response. It spun around to face Olympia Vale, who was standing several feet away, her own pistol in hand, aimed squarely at the beast.
It charged at Vale, bounding across the distance that separated them, but it was moving slower, because she had already struck it broadside. Her hands were trembling, and she fought to steady them as she squeezed the trigger several more times. The last time she’d used this weapon was years ago, during a training exercise, so she strained to regain command of it. Each blast hammered through the creature, shaking it with every impact, and still it kept coming. With a final roar, it bounded the remaining space, its mouth opened wide in front of Vale. As it rocked her backward, she fired point-blank into the creature’s mouth.
Then she fell to the ground, striking the back of her head on something hard. The creature lurched forward in death, its full weight nearly crushing down on her. She grunted from the impact, and then something lifted the creature off her. It was Holt, looking down at her with his helmet now removed. “Vale!” he called to her. “Olympia! Are you okay?!”
She heard continued firing from all around her. Everyone was fighting for their lives. This is where it ends . . . my God, after all I’ve been through so far, this is where it ends. Me on my back, in the snow.
Holt called to her again, and then his attention was elsewhere. He had found his rifle in the snow and started blasting away once more.
The world was turning black around her.
Again? I’m going unconscious again?
No . . . no, I’m not going to be unconscious this time. This time I’m going to die.
I’m going to die.
How depressing.
The world was spinning out around Vale, the blackness reaching out to embrace her . . .
You are interesting.
The words sounded in her head. She had no idea where they came from or who was speaking to her, but it was like someone had spoken directly into her mind.
Who are you?
You are interesting.
So you say.
I want you to come to me.
I don’t know where you are.
You do not have to. I will bring you to me.
At that point, Vale’s eyes snapped open.
She saw Holt a short distance away, firing at another charging creature. The humans and Sangheili appeared to be winning, but just barely.
The ground suddenly rumbled once more.
Now the eyeless biped animals were running back into the fray. Even from a distance, apparently they were able to perceive the sounds of the pitched battle.
The entire area was alive with carnage on all sides. The bipeds plowed into the white-furred creatures, clamping their wide jaws upon them. Human and Sangheili were desperately trying to stay out of the way, firing defensive shots as they attempted to back out of the area. Usze had now ignited his own energy sword and was wielding it deftly, hewing the attacking bipeds into pieces with remarkable speed and power.
Vale observed all this, but she did so as if she were far away, as if she were having an out-of-body experience. Very slowly she began to stride forward. Her mind was becoming hazy, and she felt strangely drawn to a specific location, a dense cluster of trees well off to the left of the battle. For reasons she could not account for, she had already begun heading in that direction.
With the onslaught all around them, no one apparently noticed her walking away.
Vale began to wonder, though, if there was something else going on. If whoever or whatever it was that was guiding her was somehow influencing the attention of everybody else. That didn’t make any sense, and yet very little did at that moment.
She came to a halt in the middle of the tree cluster. One of the white-furred creatures had leapt directly in front of her. It stood there for a long moment, its breath misting in front of its heavily mandibled mouth, poised to attack like a rabid dog. It lowered its head, continuing to watch her for a long moment.
And then it stepped aside.
Vale couldn’t believe it. The creature was actually getting out of her way.
Suspecting that this might be some kind of trick and that the beast would suddenly turn on her, she nevertheless strode on, never taking her eyes off it. It returned her gaze levelly, but made no effort to assault her. Vale felt like she should be afraid of it, but for some reason, she wasn’t. Somehow, she knew it wouldn’t harm her. She felt safe. Almost too safe.
As she walked past, she reached out and ran her fingers across its head. She didn’t know why, but she just felt like she could. Like she should. It made a strange noise that almost sounded as if it was purring. Then it backed away and lowered itself to the ground, staring up at her. She kept walking, the creature now falling into step next to her.
At one point, a biped creature came toward them with murderous intent. The creature next to Vale growled in its throat, but rather than serving as an incentive to cause the biped to attack, instead it backed away. On a certain level, Vale thought it made perfect sense, although she didn’t understand why.
She continued to walk, her new companion accompanying her. She wasn’t even paying attention to the battle that was transpiring behind her. She began to feel that was someone else’s problem.
Her problems lay ahead of her.
We are going to have company. Won’t that be lovely? It’s a human female. I find her cerebral activity to be interesting and believe that she might be intriguing to talk to for a while.
&nb
sp; (Let me die.)
Now why would you say that? I have given you a new life. You are far more than you once were. Why would you wish to leave it behind?
(Look what you’ve done to me.)
What I have done is make you far greater than you were. All of your human weaknesses have been left behind. I could have let you die, but instead you have been transformed into what you are now. And all you wish from me is that I allow you to die? Does that remotely sound like gratitude to you? I ask you.
(I don’t want gratitude. I don’t want to live like this. I just want it to be over.)
Not for a good long while yet. My sincerest condolences. Now . . . let us prepare to receive our guest.
CHAPTER 10
* * *
Luther Mann had never quite felt as frustratingly useless as he did during the pitched battle with these creatures that seemed determined to devour everyone around him.
Luther was crouched behind a large boulder, keeping his head low, watching in helplessness as he saw the others in his group fighting the beasts. He was pleased and relieved to see that, for the most part, things seemed to be going in the way that the humans and Sangheili would have preferred. He actually let out a sigh of relief.
That was his mistake.
One of the blind, bipedal creatures that resembled a carnivorous dinosaur, who apparently reacted solely to sound, snapped its head around and fixed directly on him. It was standing ten meters away, but somehow Luther’s lone sigh had helped it home in precisely on his location.
His heart was pounding. He tried desperately to hold his fear in, but instead he wound up gasping again and making a vague whimpering noise, and that was all the biped needed.
It sped toward him, its jaws clacking together. Luther let out an alarmed scream—which was the absolute worst thing he could have done—and threw his arms up in front of his face, as if that would somehow ward off the beast.