Halo: The Fall of Reach

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Halo: The Fall of Reach Page 26

by Eric Nylund


  She withdrew, but left her back door intact. This trick might come in handy again.

  The other loose end that required her attentions was Colonel Ackerson—the man who had tried to erase her and the Master Chief.

  Cortana reread Dr. Halsey’s recommended test specifications for the MJOLNIR system on the obstacle course. She had suggested live rounds, yes. But never a squad of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, chain-guns, Lotus mines . . . and certainly not an air strike.

  That was the Colonel’s doing. He was an equation that needed to be balanced. What Dr. Halsey might have called “payback.”

  She linked to the UNSC personnel and planning database on Reach. The ONI AI there, Beowulf, knew her . . . and knew not to let her in. Beowulf was thorough, methodical, and paranoid; in her own way, Cortana couldn’t help but like him. But compared with her code-cracking skills, he might as well have been an accounting program.

  Cortana sent a rapid series of queries into the network node that processed housing transfer requests. A normally quiet node—she overloaded it with a billion different pings per minute.

  The network attempted to recover and reconfigure, causing all nodes to lag, including node seventeen— personnel records. She stepped in and inserted a spike wedge, a subroutine that looked like a normal incoming signal, but bounced any handshake protocol.

  She slipped in.

  The Colonel’s CSV was impressive. He had survived three battles with the Covenant. Early in the war, he received a promotion and volunteered for a dozen black ops. For the last few years, however, his efforts had focused on political maneuvers rather than battlefield tactics. He had filed several requests for increased funding for his Special Warfare projects.

  No wonder he wanted the Master Chief gone. The Spartan IIs and MJOLNIR were his direct competition. Worse, they were succeeding where he failed.

  At best, Ackerson’s actions were treason. But Cortana wasn’t about to reveal all this to the ONI oversight committee. Despite the Colonel’s methods, the UNSC still needed him—and his SpecWar specialists—in the war.

  Justice, however, would still be meted out.

  From the ONI database, she masqueraded as a routine credit check and entered the Colonel’s bank account—to which she wired a substantial amount to a brothel on Gilgamesh. She made sure the bank queries sent to confirm the transaction were copied to his home immediately. Colonel Ackerson was a married man . . . and his wife should be there to receive them.

  She cut into his personal E-mail and sent a carefully crafted message—requesting reassignment to a forward area—to personnel. Finally, she inserted a “ghost” record, an electronic footprint that identified the source of the alterations: Ackerson’s personal-computer pad.

  By the time Ackerson was done untangling all of that, he’d be reassigned to field duty . . . and get back to fighting the Covenant where he belonged.

  With all loose ends neatly tied up, Cortana rechecked thePillar of Autumn ’s reactor; the shakedown was proceeding nicely. She tweaked the magnetic-field strength, and part of her watched the output from the engines for fluctuations. She inspected all weapons systems three times, and then went back to her own personal research.

  She considered how well the Master Chief had performed this morning on the obstacle course. He was more than Cortana could have hoped for. The Master Chief was much more than Dr. Halsey or the press releases had indicated.

  He was intelligent . . . not fearless, but as close to it as any human she had encountered. His reaction time under stress was one-sixth the standard human norm. More than that, however, Cortana had sensed that he had a certain—she searched her lexicon for the proper word—nobility. He placed his mission and his duty and honor above his personal safety.

  She reexamined his Career Service Vitae. He had fought in 207 ground engagements against the Covenant, and been awarded every major service medal except the Prisoner of War Medallion.

  There were holes in his CSV, though. The standard black-out sections courtesy of ONI, of course . . . but most curious, all data before he entered active duty had been expunged.

  Cortana wasn’t about to let a mere erasure stop her. She traced where the order to erase that data had originated. Section Three. Dr. Halsey’s group. Curious.

  She followed the order pathway—crashed into layers of counter code. The code started a trace on her signal.

  She blocked it—and it restarted a trace of the origin of her block.

  This was a very well-crafted piece of counterintrusion software, far superior to the normal ONI slugcode. If nothing else, Cortana liked a challenge. She withdrew from the database and looked for an unguarded way into ONI Section Three files.

  Cortana listened to the hum of coded traffic along the surface of ONI’s secure network. There was an unusual amount of packets today: queries and encrypted messages from ONI operatives. She peered into them and unraveled their secrets as they passed her. There were orders for ship movements and operatives outbound from Reach. This must be the new directive to send scouts into the periphery systems and find the Covenant. She saw several ships docked in Reach’s space docks—ONI stealth jobs made to look like private yachts. They had cute, innocuous names: theApplebee ,Circumference , and theLark .

  She spotted something she could use: Dr. Halsey had just entered her laboratory. She was at checkpoint three. The doctor waited as her voice and retina patterns were being scanned.

  Cortana intercepted and killed the signal. The verification system reset.

  “Please rescan retina, Dr. Halsey,” the system requested, “and repeat today’s code phrase in a normal voice.”

  Before Dr. Halsey could do this, Cortana sent her own files of Dr. Halsey’s retina and voice scans. She had long ago copied them and occasionally they came in handy.

  Section Three verification opened for Cortana. She had only a second before the doctor spoke and overrode the previous entry access.

  Cortana, however, was a lightning strike in the system. She entered, searched, and found what she wanted. Every piece of data on SPARTAN 117 was copied to her personal directory within seventy milliseconds.

  She withdrew from the ONI database, routing all traces of her queries back to her Ackerson “ghost.”

  She closed all connections and returned to thePillar of Autumn . One quick check of the reactor—yes, operating within normal parameters—and she sent a complete report to Lieutenant Hall on the bridge.

  Cortana examined the Master Chief’scomplete CSV. She scanned backward through time: his performance data on the obstacle course, and the debriefing he had given at ONI headquarters.

  She paused and pondered the signal the Covenant had sent from Sigma Octanus IV. Intrigued, she tried to translate the sequence. The symbols looked tantalizingly familiar. Every algorithm and variation of the standard translation software she attempted, however, failed. Puzzled, she set it aside to examine later.

  She continued, absorbing the data from the Master Chief’s files. She learned of the augmentations he and the other Spartans were made to endure; the brutal indoctrination and training they had received; and how he had been abducted at the age of six, and a flash clone used to replace him in an ONI black op.

  All of it had been authorized by Dr. Halsey.

  Cortana paused for a full three processor cycles churning this new data through her ethics subroutines . . . not comprehending. How could Dr. Halsey, who was so concerned for her Spartans, have done this to them?

  Of course—because it was necessary. There was no other way to preserve the UNSC against rebellion and Covenant forces.

  Was Dr. Halsey a monster? Or just doing what had to be done to protect humanity? Perhaps a little of both.

  Cortana erased her stolen files. No matter. Whatever the Master Chief had been through in the past . . . it was done. He was in Cortana’s care now. She would do everything in her power—short of compromising their mission—to make sure nothing ever happened to him again.

  CHA
PTER TWENTY-NINE

  0400 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar) / UNSCPillar of Autumn , in orbit around Epsilon Eridani System, Reach Military Complex

  Captain Keyes tapped the thrusters of the shuttle podCoda . The tiny craft rolled and thePillar of Autumn came into view.

  Normally, Captains did not ferry themselves around the space docks of Reach, but Keyes had insisted. All unauthorized personnel were restricted to a narrow flight path around thePillar of Autumn , and he wanted to take a careful look around the outside of this ship before he took command.

  From this distance, thePillar of Autumn could have been mistaken for an elongated frigate. As the shuttle pod moved closer, however, details appeared that betrayed the ship’s age. ThePillar of Autumn ’s hull had several larger dents and scratches. Her engine baffles were blackened. The portside emergency thrusters were missing.

  What had he gotten himself into by signing up for Dr. Halsey’s mission?

  He moved within a hundred meters and circled to the starboard. The shuttle bay on this side was sealed off. Red-and-yellow hazard warnings had been painted on metal plates that had been hastily welded over her entrance.

  He closed to ten meters and saw the plate was not a solid sheet of metal—he could see armored ports, heavily reinforced . . . almost solid titanium A. Honeycombed throughout this section were the round covers of Archer missile pods. Captain Keyes counted: thirty pods across, ten down. Each pod held dozens of missiles. ThePillar of Autumn had a secret arsenal to rival any real cruiser in the fleet.

  Captain Keyes drifted toward the stern and noticed concealed and recessed 50mm autocannons for defense against single ships.

  Underneath were bumps—part of the linear accelerator system for the ship’s lone MAC gun. It looked too small to be truly effective. But he would reserve judgment. Perhaps, like the rest of thePillar of Autumn , the weapon was more than it appeared to be.

  He certainly hoped so.

  Captain Keyes returned to the port side and drifted gently into the shuttle bay. He took note of three Longsword single ships and three Pelican dropships in the bay. One of the Pelicans had double the normal armor plating and what looked like grappling attachments. A serrated titanium ram decorated the dropship’s prow.

  He touched down on an automated landing platform and locked the controls down. A moment later the shuttle descended belowdecks and was cycled through the airlock. Captain Keyes gathered his duffel bag and stepped onto the flight deck.

  Lieutenant Hikowa was there to meet him. She saluted. “Welcome aboard, Captain Keyes.” He saluted. “What do you think of her, Lieutenant?” Lieutenant Hikowa’s dark eyes widened. “You’re not going to believe this ship, sir.” Her normally

  serious face broke with a smile. “They’ve turned it into something . . . special.” “I saw what they did to my starboard shuttle bay,” Captain Keyes remarked sourly. “That’s just the start,” she said. “I can give you a full tour.” “Please,” Captain Keyes said. He paused at an intercom. “Just one thing first, Lieutenant.” He keyed the

  intercom. “Ensign Lovell, plot a course to the system’s edge and move thePillar of Autumn on an accelerating vector. We will jump to Slipstream space as soon as we get there.” “Sir,” Lovell replied. “Our engines are still in shakedown mode.”

  “Cortana?” Captain Keyes asked. “Can we have power to move the ship? I’d like to get under way.” “The engines’ final shakedown is in theta cycle,” Cortana replied. “Operating well within normal parameters. Diverting thirty percent power to engines; aye, sir.”

  “And the other systems’ status?” Captain Keyes asked.

  “Weapons-system check initiated. Navigational nodes functioning. Continuing systemwide shakedown and triple checks, Captain.” “Very good,” he said. “Apprise me if there are any anomalies.” “Aye, Captain,” she replied. “We finally have an AI,” he remarked to Hikowa.

  “We’ve got more than that, sir,” Hikowa replied. “Cortana is running the shakedown and supervising Dr. Halsey’s modifications to the ship. We have a backup AI to handle point defense.”

  “Really?” Keyes was surprised; getting a single AI was tough enough these days. Getting two was unprecedented.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll see to the initialization of our AI as soon as Cortana is through running her diagnostics.”

  Captain Keyes had meet Cortana briefly in Dr. Halsey’s office. Although every AI he had met was brilliant, Cortana seemed exceptionally qualified. Captain Keyes had posed several navigation problems and she had figured out all the solutions . . . and had come up with a few options he had not considered. She was somewhat high-spirited, but that was not necessarily a bad thing.

  Lieutenant Hikowa led him into the elevator and punched the button for D deck.

  “At first,” Hikowa said, “I was concerned with all the ordnance on board. One penetrating shot and we could explode like a string of firecrackers. But this ship doesn’t have much empty space—it’s full of braces, honeycombed titanium-A, and hydraulic reinforcements that can be activated in an emergency. She can take a tremendous beating, sir.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to test that,” Captain Keyes said. He checked that this pipe was in his pocket.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Their elevator passed through the rotating section of the ship and Captain Keyes felt his weight ease and a flutter of vertigo. He grabbed hold of the rails.

  The doors opened and they entered the cavernous engine room. The ceiling was four stories high, making this the largest compartment in the ship. Catwalks and platforms ringed the hexagonal chamber.

  “Here’s the new reactor, sir,” Hikowa said.

  The device perched within a lattice of nonferric ceramic and leaded crystal. The main reactor ring was nestled in the center of what appeared to be two smaller reactor rings. Technicians floated nearby taking readings and monitoring the output displays on the walls.

  “I’m not familiar with this design, Lieutenant.”

  “The latest reactor technology. ThePillar of Autumn is the first ship to get it. The two smaller fusion reactors come online to supercharge the main reactor. Their overlapping magnetic fields can temporally boost power by three hundred percent.”

  Captain Keyes whistled appreciatively as he scrutinized the room. “I don’t see any coolant pipes.” “There are none, sir. This reactor uses a laser-induced optical slurry of ions chilled to near-absolute zero

  to neutralize the waste heat. The more we crank up the power, the more juice we have to cool the system. It is very efficient.” The smaller reactors flickered to life and Captain Keyes felt the ambient heat in the room jump, then

  suddenly cool again. He removed his pipe and tapped it in the palm of his hand. He would have to rethink his old tactics. This new engine could give him new options in battle.

  “There’s more, sir.” Lieutenant Hikowa led him back into the lift. “We have forty fifty-millimeter cannons for point defense, with overlapping fields of fire covering all inbound vectors.”

  “What is our least defended approach vector?”

  “Bottom fore,” she said, “along the lay line of the MAC system. There are very few gunnery placements there. Transient magnetic bursts tend to magnetize the weapons.” “Tell me about the MAC gun, Lieutenant. It looks under-powered.” “It fires a special light round with a ferrous core, but an outer layer of tungsten carbide. The round

  splinters on impact—like an assault rifle’s shredder rounds.” She was talking so fast she had to pause and take a deep breath. “This gun has magnetic field recyclers along the length that recapture the field energy. Coupled with booster capacitors, we can firethree successive shots with one charge.”

  That would be very effective against the Covenant energy shields. The first shot, maybe the first pair of shots, would take down their shields. The last round would deliver a knockout punch. “I take it you approve, Lieutenant?” “To quote Ensign Lovell, sir, ‘I think I’m in love.’ �


  Captain Keyes nodded. “I notice we have several single ships and some Pelican dropships in the bay.” “Yes, sir. One of the Longswords is equipped with a Shiva nuclear warhead. It can be remote-piloted. We also have three HAVOK warheads onboard.”

  “Of course,” Captain Keyes said. “And the Pelicans? One of them had extra armor.”

  “The Spartans were working on it. Some sort of boarding craft.” “The Spartans?” Captain Keyes asked. “They’re already onboard?” “Yes, sir. They were here before we got on board.” “Take me to them, Lieutenant.” “Yes, sir.” Lieutenant Hikowa stopped the elevator and hit the button for C deck. Twenty-five years ago Captain Keyes had helped procure the Spartan candidates for Dr. Halsey. She had

  said they might one day be the best hope the UNSC had for peace. At the time he’d assumed that the Doctor was prone to hyperbole—but it appeared that she’d been correct. That didn’t make what they had done right, though. His complicity in those kidnappings still haunted him.

  The elevator doors opened. The primary storage bay had been converted into barracks for the thirty Spartans. Every one of them wore MJOLNIR battle armor. They looked alien to him. Part machine, part titan—but completely inhuman.

  The room was filled with motion—Spartans unpacked crates, others cleaned and field-stripped their assault rifles, and a pair of them practiced hand-to-hand combat. Captain Keyes could barely follow their motions. They were so fast, no hesitation. Strike and block and counter-strike—their movements were a continuous stream of rapid-fire blurs.

  Captain Keyes had seen the news feeds and heard the rumors, like everyone on in the fleet—the Spartans were near-mythological figures in the military. They were supposed to be super-human soldiers, invulnerable and indestructible—and it was almost the truth. Dr. Halsey had shown him their operational records.

  Between the Spartans and the refittedPillar of Autumn , Captain Keyes was beginning to believe Dr. Halsey’s long-shot mission might work after all. “Captain on the deck!” one of the Spartans shouted. Every Spartan stopped and snapped to attention. “As you were,” he said. The Spartans relaxed slightly. One turned and strode toward him. “Master Chief SPARTAN 117 reporting as ordered, sir.” The armored giant paused, and for a moment,

 

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