“Breathing as well as I can,” Dorian said, and then he slipped into the structure itself.
The air changed: The temperature dropped, the world grew quiet. The roar of the fire couldn’t make it through the stone walls. Dorian almost forgot about the conflagration raging overhead, and he wondered if there was something to Evie’s theory that this building was used to rearrange molecules, if they were somehow in a different pocket of space than the fire outside.
But then he heard a scraping, grinding groan again: the scanner, threatening to topple. They had only minutes left before that thing came down.
“We’ve got to move fast!” Saskia shouted, shoving the coil of rope into his chest. “Like we talked about, remember?”
Like they talked about.
Saskia and Evie were already attacking the wall, positioning the construction laser Dorian had found stashed in a back room of the transport center, buried beneath a bunch of rubble. A lucky find, although he had no idea how well it was going to work on Forerunner stone. If anything could work, it’d be that laser.
Probably better than what he was going to be doing.
He looped the towing cable around the sculpture, shoving it down between the sculpture and the wall, pulling tight, locking it into place the way Uncle Max had shown him when he was a kid, helping out with the tourist boats. He locked the other end of the rope around the gravitic binder that powered the forearm-sized tension steel cutter and pulled.
Nothing happened.
Saskia and Evie fired up the laser, sending off sparks and tiny fragments of stone. Dorian dropped the cable and knelt in front of the sculpture, examining how it was connected to the entire room. It wasn’t carved into the wall, just like Evie had said. She had remembered correctly. He could see where the sculpture ended and its display platform began. They were separate components, which told him it could be moved.
It was just too heavy.
“Are we getting it?” Evie shouted over the whine of the laser. “Where are you at, Dorian?”
“Working on it,” he said.
A loud crash filtered down from above, Covenant metal on metal. Evie and Saskia both shrieked, and Dorian felt his whole body go rigid with fear, as he saw one of the scanner’s legs begin to buckle. He picked up the cable again.
“We have to leave now,” Owen said from the doorway. “That scanner is about to topple completely.”
“We’re almost done,” Saskia called out.
Dorian felt a wave of hopelessness, the cable limp in his hand. “It’s too heavy,” he said. “The steel cutter isn’t working like we thought it would. I can’t get it.”
“Well, you should have told me,” Owen said, and Dorian scowled. But Owen was already reaching around the base of the sculpture. “On my count,” he said as more debris crashed overhead, as the ground around the structure trembled.
“Got it!” shouted Evie, and Dorian saw her drop a large chunk of the wall into a satchel Saskia was holding.
“One,” Owen said.
Dorian shoved aside his anger and hurt. None of that mattered right now.
“Two.”
The ground shook again; something boomed above them.
“Three.”
Dorian used the tension cutter’s binder to pull with every ounce of his strength. At first, nothing happened, but then there was a snap and a long, horrible ripping sound, like iron being torn in half. And then Dorian was flying backward, the cable and cutter in his hands. He slammed into the far wall, and the world flickered in and out of his vision. Distantly, he heard screaming.
No, not screaming. Cheers.
He lifted his head. When his eyes focused, he found Owen standing with the sculpture in both hands. Long strands of what looked like seaweed tumbled out from the bottom of the statue. So it wasn’t the weight that was keeping it moored, it had been connected to the wall after all. Just not with stone.
A crash up above.
“Go!” Owen yelled. Dorian dropped the cutter and cable, pushed himself away from the wall, and followed after Evie and Saskia as they sprinted out of the structure. It was like stepping into the engine of a starship. The heat was astonishing.
He crawled up the side of the hole, scrambling over the hot earth, his palms scorching with each touch. When he looked up, the sky was fire.
He forced himself to keep going.
Somehow, he made it to the surface. The fire raged around him, and the scanner had toppled, leaving all but a narrow path for him to escape into. He ducked through it and emerged on the other side, into the smoke. The fire suppressant was working; flames rose up on either side of the path, enough that Dorian was able to run through them, the heat singeing his skin. He spotted glimpses of Evie and Saskia up ahead through the smoke; he thought he heard Owen behind him but didn’t dare turn around to check. He just ran, as hard as he could.
Someone screamed.
It came from up ahead, but Dorian couldn’t see anything in the smoke. He tried to shout, but his voice was caught in his throat.
Another scream. This time, Dorian recognized the voice. It was Evie. And she was screaming for help.
He ran, gasping and choking in the thick, smoky air, his eyes watering. He passed the fire line, the suppressant path winding off sideways out of the clearing. Through smoke he saw Evie and Saskia, both kneeling.
“Evie!” he choked out, stumbling forward. Evie looked up at him, her face shining with sweat.
“It’s Victor!” she screamed.
All of Dorian’s blood froze in his veins. He stood dumbly on the path, the fire roaring behind him.
And then Owen was racing past him, skidding to a stop next to Saskia and Evie. That brought Dorian to his senses, and he pushed forward. In the bloody firelight, he saw Victor lying collapsed on the ground, his skin patchy with burns.
“He’s still breathing,” Saskia said, her voice brimming with tears. “But—”
“Dorian, take the statue.” Owen shoved it at him, and Dorian wrapped his arms around it, staggering a little beneath its weight. Then Owen scooped up Victor and draped him over his shoulders.
“Let’s get to the rendezvous,” Owen said. “And then let’s get off this world.”
Saskia had forgotten what it was to be clean, to wear fresh clothes, and to eat food at a table, with cutlery and napkins. She had forgotten what it was to be safe.
But now they were safe, back at Tuomi Base, surrounded by UNSC troops. She, Evie, and Dorian shared a room on the edge of the facility, with beds instead of cots, and temperature controls, and comm systems that Evie used to talk with her dad.
And every morning so far, they heard from the med bay that Victor was still alive.
It was another comforting thought in that first day of relative normalcy after their extraction from Meridian. He was still alive. Nothing else about his condition was good: He was unconscious, packed away in a healing pod. They weren’t allowed to visit him. Saskia had tried, that first morning. Strode right down to the medical wing and asked to see him. But the nurse at the station had just shaken his head sadly, told her, “He’s under observation. No visitors.”
“You don’t understand,” she said. “It should be me in there.”
The nurse had frowned at that, his brow creasing. Saskia left before he called up a commanding officer.
She couldn’t get that thought out of her head: that it was supposed to be her. That Victor was only encased in that healing pod because he had insisted on taking her place. She could have stopped him. She could have fought him for the suppressant canister. It made so much more sense for her to risk herself: He had a family, parents and sisters who would be racked with grief. She had no one.
Well, no one except for Local Team. But Victor had them too. Saskia was clearly the one to sacrifice if a sacrifice was called for.
And Saskia didn’t even know if Victor’s family were aware of his status. Evie and Dorian had both been allowed to contact their families, but they’d been informed
that it was in violation of more than a dozen security regulations to share any information at all about their mission and its aftermath, and Saskia had no way of knowing what, if anything, had been sent to Victor’s parents.
There were other things too, issues with ONI that Saskia didn’t want to think about. Of course the samples they brought back with them on the extraction had been swept away for study and further development. This was what they wanted the samples for, after all. But what about the Forerunner structure in Annecy? What about Brume-sur-Mer? What about Meridian? After the extraction, the survivors had been rushed back to the base to recoup and debrief, but then there was only silence from Command.
Their strange experience in the Forerunner structure still haunted her, and Saskia worried that the Covenant had somehow gotten ahold of the technology with their scanning machine—if what happened in that one room could be weaponized against an entire world. The thought made her shudder.
After her failed attempt at visiting Victor, she had gone for a walk around the edge of the Tuomi Base buildings. The air was crisp with the first strains of autumn, without being frozen solid like the air in Annecy. She mulled over what was wrong, trying to pin it down, and failing.
“Hey, Saskia! Wait up.”
Saskia stopped, turned around. It was Dorian and Evie, walking side by side across the grass. Evie lifted her hand in a wave, and Saskia drifted over to them, the sweet-scented wind ruffling her loose hair.
“How you holding up?” Evie said.
“I’m fine. You?”
Evie hesitated. “I’m fine.”
Dorian looked over at her. “C’mon, Evie. That’s not what you told me.”
Saskia was swallowed by a sudden swell of panic. “What? What’s wrong?”
But Evie just shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong, I just—”
“We wanted to talk to you about it.” Dorian frowned. “Let’s go a little farther out, though.”
Saskia glanced back at the military buildings, blocky and silver, imposing in the sunlight. Then she nodded.
The three of them cut across the grass, not speaking. The wind picked up, whipping around flecks of golden dust.
“Have you heard anything about Victor?” Evie asked.
“I tried to see him, but they wouldn’t let me.”
Dorian snorted. “Something’s up.”
Saskia looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
He stopped, turned toward her. The military base glittered in the sunlight like some far-off jewel. “He almost died—might die—because ONI wanted that Forerunner artifact so badly. There’s something going on that they’re not telling us.”
Saskia sighed. More of this, then. Dorian and his paranoia, his distrust. “Is this about Owen lying to us?”
“What?” Dorian shook his head. “No. I didn’t even say anything about Owen.”
“This is about ONI,” Evie said quietly. “It’s about Victor and the fact that they’re keeping something from us about him.”
“What? What could they be keeping from us?” Saskia asked, trying to ignore the doubt nagging in the back of her head.
“I think they’re doing something to him. Not just keeping him alive, something more,” Evie said quickly. “I think that’s why they haven’t told us anything. They’re keeping us in the dark.”
Saskia wrapped her arms around herself, looked out at the distant horizon. The sky was hazy with dust.
Something felt wrong. She couldn’t deny that.
“We don’t have proof of anything,” Evie said. “It just—it feels strange, don’t you think? Why won’t they give us any answers?”
“Our friend is dying in a UNSC medical facility and they won’t tell us anything about him,” Dorian spat.
“We don’t know if he’s dying,” Saskia whispered. “We’re not on Meridian anymore, we’re not running errands for ONI. For the first time in days we’re finally safe—so can you two give this conspiracy nonsense a rest?”
Dorian didn’t say anything. Neither did Evie. For a long time, they stood there without talking. Saskia rolled the idea around in her head. Finally, she spoke. “Okay, fine. What are you getting at exactly?”
“We’re not sure,” Evie said. “We’re just tired of the secrets.” She paused, her arms crossed, staring off into the distance. At first Saskia thought that was all she had. But then Evie continued. “Remember Orvo’s training exercises? How it taught us to think past how things appeared on the surface?”
Saskia nodded.
“Well, I’m trying to think like that about this.”
“Whatever’s going on with Victor isn’t simple medical treatment,” Dorian said. “Remember those scientists who were asking about the Forerunner artifact on the holo feed? They’re here, on base, and they’ve been visiting Victor and running tests. That means it’s not just about his injuries in Annecy,” He looked at Saskia, his eyes glittering. “Something else is wrong.”
Saskia studied Dorian and Evie, their expressions downcast, and began to realize why this was weighing on them so much. If Victor’s injuries weren’t limited to what happened in that last operation, then it meant something else was wrong. And if something else was wrong, Victor might not be the only one affected.
What was it Owen had said after Brume-sur-Mer?
Civilian life will be hard for you now. You’ll see.
Part of her knew exactly what he meant, the other part wished that she could forget the last three months entirely. Owen was right. Nothing would ever be the same.
Two days later, Captain Dellatorre wanted to meet with them.
Saskia expected it to be a debriefing of the entire mission, from Brume-sur-Mer to Annecy. They’d never actually done that since arriving at the base. But when she walked into the meeting room, she knew instantly she was wrong. While Owen was there, Farhi and Kielawa and the rest of the militia survivors weren’t. But the doctors from the debriefing on Annecy were. What were their names again? Chapman? Salo? She couldn’t remember the third. But all three wore grim expressions, medical comm pads blinking in their hands.
“Please,” the captain said, not even bothering with her usual fake smile. “Have a seat.”
He’s dead, Saskia thought, sliding down at the table. She blinked back tears, tried not to scream.
One of the doctors—Dr. Salo by her name tag—tapped on her comm pad.
“What’s going on?” Dorian demanded as he careened through the door.
Captain Dellatorre looked over at him calmly. “What have I told you about following protocol?”
Dorian scowled, but he stiffened his shoulders, threw up a salute.
“Thank you. Let’s wait until we’re all here.”
Immediately, Evie strolled in after Dorian, her face pale, her eyes red. Saskia watched Owen as he watched Evie and Dorian take their seats. Did he know why they were here? His face was expressionless.
The captain cleared her throat. “I have some bad news,” she began.
“Is Victor dead?” Saskia blurted, the guilt of the idea pulsing with her heartbeat.
“No.” Captain Dellatorre paused. “Not yet.”
“Not yet?” Owen leaned forward, his features dark with concern. So he hadn’t known. The thought comforted Saskia. “Ma’am, what do you mean?”
The captain sighed. “Victor’s injuries were severe but nothing that we haven’t treated before—second- and third-degree burns, smoke inhalation. These are serious issues, yes, but easily remedied.”
“So what’s the problem?” Evie asked.
Captain Dellatorre looked down at her comm pad. “The problem,” she said, “is that Victor is not responding to any of the treatments.”
Saskia frowned. “What do you mean? How could they not be working?”
“That was what we were wondering.” She nodded at Dr. Salo. Outside of a holo, it was clear her long hair was dark gray, not black, and she looked much more tired. “Dr. Salo has been handling Victor’s case. Please, tell
them what you found.”
Dr. Salo looked out at the table. “We ran several tests, when the treatments were proving impotent,” she said. “What we found was—it was unnerving.”
Saskia felt a hollowness inside her chest. She dug her fingers into the chair.
“The reason Victor is not responding to treatments is because he appears to have some kind of medical anomaly. We cannot determine the source. It doesn’t look like anything we’ve seen before.”
“What?” Evie whispered. “What do you mean, you haven’t seen anything like it? Like, it’s a new kind of virus?”
“It’s not a virus at all,” Dr. Salo said. “It’s not bacterial either. It seems genetic in some way, but his previous medical files all show the same tests coming back normal. Regardless, it doesn’t seem to be acting like a typical genetic condition. We simply”—she held out her hands—“don’t know.”
“So what’s going to happen to him? Is he going to die?” Saskia asked.
“We’re keeping him alive for now,” Captain Dellatorre said.
For now? Saskia looked over at Evie and Dorian, thinking back on that strange conversation in the field. Evie was pale, her eyes wide, and Dorian looked furious—he had the air of someone who had just had his worst suspicions proven right.
“However, there is more.”
Saskia turned back to the doctor, her breath caught in her throat.
“We have theorized that Victor’s complication came from exposure to the Forerunner artifacts. There are certain … symmetries in the samples we’ve taken from him and samples that the Forerunner team is working with. I’m afraid the connection is undeniable.”
“Oh no,” Saskia whispered, the realization crawling over her like a mist.
“As you’ll recall, we took blood samples from all of you after you returned from Meridian. We wanted to test you—all five of you, including Spartan-B096.” Dr. Salo nodded at Dr. Chapman, who tapped on his comm pad. “We have the results now.”
Saskia felt numb. She flashed back to the blood test when they’d gotten off-world—she thought it was standard, that they were just making sure she wasn’t sick. Captain Dellatorre sat with her hands folded in her lap, looking down at her comm pad. Did she and the rest of ONI know this was a possibility? Had they sent them into that structure with the understanding that this would happen?
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