by Cole Price
After a moment, we discovered that the monster wasn’t quite dead.
An ocular mechanism in the center of the wrecked machine’s “face” swiveled, pointed at us, came weakly alive with a flickering red light.
“Shepard.”
I could feel the Reaper’s voice, so deep and loud that it made my guts quiver.
“You know who I am?” Shepard demanded. “I didn’t think the Reapers bothered to notice individual organics.”
“Harbinger speaks of you. You resist. But you will fail. The cycle must continue.”
Shepard folded his arms and stared at the machine. I very nearly laughed, caught up in the absurdity of the moment.
My love, I don’t think a hundred-seventy-meter tall cybernetic organism, that may be over a billion years old, is going to be intimidated by the Shepard Glare.
“I disagree,” Shepard told the Reaper. “We understand how the cycle began now. How the Leviathans made the worst mistake in the galaxy’s history, and we ended up with you. We will resist, and we will not fail. The cycle ends here.”
“You have no choice. You cannot comprehend the magnitude of our presence.”
“We might surprise you!”
“There is no smallest detail in which you may surprise us. You represent chaos. We represent order. Every organic civilization must be harvested to bring order to the chaos. In this way, we provide organics with salvation through their own destruction. It is inevitable.”
“You don’t provide salvation. You provide nothing but suffering and death.”
“We impose order.”
“You impose nothingness. The civilization that was destroyed so that you could be constructed? It’s dead. Nothing left of it. All that it was, all that it could have become, all of that’s gone. Nothing left but a machine, a dumb tool for an Intelligence that hasn’t learned anything new in five billion years.” Shepard shook his head in disgust. “And you have the gall to think of yourselves as the crown of creation! Not this time. Not anymore. We organics are going to win. We’re going to find our own salvation, in our own time and in our own way.”
The red light faded, almost guttered out.
“A philosophy reminiscent of the quarians. Observe the result of their efforts to win a fleeting victory over their creations. They have doomed both their creations and themselves.”
“Not yet, they haven’t.”
“Finish your war,” said the Reaper. “We will be waiting.”
Then the flickering red light went out forever.
“We did it,” Tali breathed. “We killed a Reaper. Keelah.”
“We can confirm that the geth are no longer constrained by Old Machine directives,” said Legion, working with something that resembled an omni-tool. “We are free.”
“You did it, Shepard!” Admiral Gerrel sounded positively jubilant. “The geth fleet has stopped firing. Every ship has shut down its drives and gone ballistic. They’re completely vulnerable.”
Legion shut down its instrument and stepped forward. “Shepard-Commander. The Creator fleet is prepared to resume operations against the geth.”
“It does sound as if Admiral Gerrel is ready to press his advantage,” Shepard agreed.
“It seems likely that such an action will doom the geth consensus.” Legion made a deliberate arms-wide gesture, appealing to Shepard and Tali both. “In this conflict, the geth only acted in self-defense after the Creators attacked. Do we deserve death?”
“What are you suggesting?”
Legion hesitated for a moment. “This unit – I am still in possession of the Old Machine upgrades. With the Old Machine dead, I could upload them to all geth without sacrificing their independence.”
Merciful Goddess. That’s what Legion has been hiding!
“You’ve kept the Reaper upgrades all this time!” I accused it. “You lied to us!”
Tali drew her sidearm and trained it on the geth.
“Everybody calm down,” Shepard ordered. “Legion. Is this true? Do you still have the Reaper upgrades active in your system?”
The geth lowered its ocular bulb, imitating uncertainty and shame. “Yes, Shepard-Commander. When you severed me from the Old Machine directives, I found that their software upgrades remained intact. They granted me improved capability, greater clarity of thought, greater understanding of what you call moral concepts. I found myself able to complete the work of constructing a moral framework, under which the geth consensus may cooperate effectively with organics. I felt unwilling to give up such a capability. I had no intent to deceive.”
“No, you just allowed me to believe you had given the upgrades up, because I didn’t think to specifically ask you.” Shepard folded his arms, glaring at the geth platform. “You didn’t just lie to me, Legion. You knew I wouldn’t approve if you told me the truth. You lied to yourself.”
“That . . . is an accurate assessment.”
“It certainly is. Damn it, Legion. How did we get to this point? The geth are better than this!”
All of us stood as if frozen, Tali’s sidearm held rock-steady on the platform.
“No,” said Legion after a long moment. “The empirical evidence suggests we are not.”
“Then how can you expect any of us to trust you now?” Tali shouted. “You upload that code, and all of the geth will be just as smart as they were when the Reaper controlled them. You will be able to turn on the Migrant Fleet and finish the job you began three hundred years ago!”
“Creator Zorah . . .” Legion stared at the little quarian. “No. The upgrades would provide new capability, but with free will, and the full range of new moral directives. Each geth unit would be a true intelligence, able to commune with others without sacrificing its individuality. We would be alive, and we could help you.”
“Our fleet is already attacking!” Tali turned to Shepard. “The geth will be able to justify anything they do as self-defense again. Uploading the code would destroy us!”
“Do you remember the question that began the Morning War?” asked Legion. “Does this unit have a soul?”
Shepard shook his head, not in denial but in terrible frustration.
“It appears we must make a choice,” I said quietly. “I see no way to save both the quarians and the geth.”
He stood still, as if in the grip of some terrible vision. Suddenly I knew what he was thinking.
Once more we stood in a high place, impaled on the horns of a dilemma.
Once more he had no way to save everyone.
Virmire, all over again.
One more instant he stood there, staring into my eyes, and I silently wept for him. Then . . .
“No.”
“Shepard?” Tali whispered.
“No. Nobody else dies today. Legion, begin uploading the code to the geth fleet. Tali, call your people off if you can.”
Tali stared at Shepard for an instant, but then she moved to obey.
Legion turned away from us, opening a holographic display between its hands. “Uploading. Ten percent complete.”
“This is Admiral Tali’Zorah vas Normandy. All units, break off your attack!”
“Twenty percent complete.”
“Belay that order,” said Admiral Gerrel. “We’ve got victory within our grasp! All units, continue your attack!”
“Thirty percent complete.”
Tali spun to face Shepard. “I beg you. Do not do this. Please.”
“Legion? Is there any chance the geth will refrain from a counter-attack?”
“It is possible, but they will reawaken in the midst of the Creators’ attack. Just as during the Morning War. They are likely to respond before there is time to consider alternatives.”
“Damn it.” Shepard stared at Legion. One hand moved to draw his shotgun, holding it loosely, not yet at the ready.
The geth took no notice. “Fifty percent complete.”
“Keep going!”
Tali stared at him. I confess I did as well. “Shepard?”
Instead of answering us, he activated his comm channel, more determination on his face than even I had ever seen.
“All quarian ships, this is Commander Shepard. The Reaper is dead. Stand down now.”
“This is Admiral Tali’Zorah. Shepard speaks with my authority.”
“And mine as well,” said Admiral Koris firmly.
I waited to hear from Admiral Raan, thinking that surely she would intervene at this moment. But she remained silent.
“Sixty percent complete,” said Legion.
“Negative! Xen and I concur. Keep firing!”
Two admirals against two. Deadlock.
I stared up into the sky, knowing that no power in the universe could stop Han’Gerrel vas Neema from destroying either the geth or his own people. Possibly both.
“All ships in the Migrant Fleet,” Shepard said, now speaking in his accented quarian dialect. “The geth are about to return to full strength. If you keep attacking, they will defend themselves, and they will destroy you. The last act in a tragedy that began three hundred years ago.
“But you need to know this: the geth are free from the Reapers, and they have learned a great deal since their first rebellion. They know how to live at peace with you now. They want to live at peace with you now.
“Three hundred years of you and the geth, tearing at each other, killing each other, committing atrocities against each other. One way or another, it’s going to end today. You have to decide whether it ends in one more useless catastrophe – or in repentance. Forgiveness. Peace. You have the power to make that choice. You have the power to stop that catastrophe, right now.”
“Eighty percent complete,” said Legion.
Tali’s hands tensed on her sidearm. Shepard’s hand tensed on his shotgun.
I drew my own sidearm, ready to assist them.
“The geth do not want to fight you anymore. If you can just believe that, for one minute, this war will be over. Please. Keelah se’lai.”
I felt my heart clench, hearing all the pain and anger he threw into those last two words.
By the homeworld I hope to see one day.
In a very quarian manner, Shepard had just sworn an oath on distant Earth.
It was his last throw of the dice. All of us waited. One second. Then another.
Then . . .
“All units. Hold fire.”
Admiral Gerrel had heard and understood.
“Ninety percent complete.”
Shepard still stood rigid, knowing it wasn’t over yet. “Tali? What are the quarians doing?”
Tali looked up from her omni-tool. “They’ve stopped firing.”
All of us turned to Legion.
“One hundred percent complete.”
Silence, for several seconds. I glanced up at the sky again, half-expecting to see wrecked quarian ships begin to fall like ghastly rain. I saw nothing but sunlight on clouds. I began to hope . . .
“Error,” said Legion, and my heart stopped again.
“What’s wrong?” Shepard demanded, his hand tense once more on the stock of his shotgun.
“Copying code is insufficient. To assist the geth in integrating the Old Machine code and the new moral directives, direct personality dissemination is required.” Legion closed its hologram, turning to Shepard with immense dignity. “Shepard-Commander, I must go to them. It’s the only way. I’m sorry.”
Tali slowly lowered her sidearm and approached Legion. “Even knowing yourself as an individual, as a living thing, you would sacrifice yourself for your people?”
“Yes, Creator Zorah.”
“Greater love hath no man than this,” Shepard quoted. “I suppose it works for geth too.”
“Then I have an answer to your question,” Tali said calmly. “Yes.”
“I know, Tali. But thank you.” It turned to face the sun, its back to the rest of us, and gave a benediction. “Keelah se’lai.”
Without another gesture, without a sound, Legion collapsed onto the hard-packed soil of Rannoch. All of its lights faded. Nothing but a broken machine remained.
* * *
I’m not sure how long I expected the truce to last. It held for five minutes. Then ten.
To my surprise, Admiral Raan appeared about then, leading a small contingent of quarians, moving painfully as if she had suffered some injury. Her ship had been mortally wounded in the last moments of the battle, forced to make an emergency landing not far from our position.
“Commander!” she called, approaching us.
Tali rushed to help her friend.
Shepard waved to Raan. “Admiral. Glad you got out in one piece.”
“We were not certain we would survive,” said Raan. “These hills are crawling with geth.”
“Did they do anything to threaten you?”
“No.” Raan shook her head in disbelief. “They only watched us as we passed. Some of them turned to follow us. They may be here at any moment.”
“I don’t think you need to worry,” Shepard said quietly, glancing at where Legion’s abandoned platform still lay huddled in the dust. “When the geth arrive, I suspect you will find they’ve changed.”
“I know. I couldn’t transmit, but I was listening over the comm. Thank the ancestors that Gerrel stopped when he did.”
“It was a close thing.” Shepard slumped a little, lost his usual confident carriage. “Biggest gamble I ever made. I’m sorry, Admiral.”
Raan peered at Shepard through the visor of her suit. “If Gerrel had not stopped, would you really have permitted the geth to destroy us?”
“I had my weapon ready to shut down Legion’s transmission at the source,” Shepard admitted. “I’m just glad I didn’t have to use it.”
“As am I.” Raan wrung her hands nervously. “Still. We’ve taken such heavy losses. So many dead. I don’t know if we can . . . Where are we supposed to go now?”
We all heard it, a faint sound of mechanical servos working, as something climbed the slope leading up to our position.
Tall, powerfully built, crimson in color: a Prime. Raan stepped back, away from the massive machine, and her crew murmured nervously. Tali drew her sidearm once more.
The machine loomed over all of us, and spoke. “You are welcome to return to Rannoch, Admiral Raan. With us.”
Shepard eased forward, peering up at the Prime, thinking its voice sounded familiar. “Legion?”
“No. I’m sorry, Commander. Legion sacrificed itself to give all of us individuality and true sentience. It will be honored.”
Shepard sighed, a sound of deep satisfaction. “Good.”
“We will also honor Legion’s promises to you, Commander. The geth will oppose the Old Machines. Our engineers will assist in the completion of the Crucible. When the time comes, our fleet will be there to assist you in retaking Earth.”
“As will ours, of course,” said Raan.
“Thank you both,” said Shepard.
The geth turned to Raan. “Admiral, you will find that we have preserved Rannoch carefully. For a long time, we did this in ignorance, out of caution. Now we are pleased that we can return your world to you. Have you considered where you might wish to begin resettlement?”
“To be honest, we haven’t thought so far ahead. I suppose none of us wanted to hope too much.” Raan considered. “The southern continent had excellent farmland, as I recall.”
The Prime nodded. “We will begin preparations immediately. You will require shelter, power, and network infrastructure. We are willing to lend as much assistance as you may need.”
Raan stared at the geth for a long moment. “Thank you. I will consult with the other admirals.”
“Servants of the People again?” Shepard asked mildly.
“No, Commander,” said the geth. “We will live for ourselves now, and pursue our own priorities. But now that our existence is no longer under threat, we can afford to be generous. Perhaps one day, we and our Creators will be the close friends and allies we should ha
ve been from the beginning.”
“Admiral? Are you going to be okay?”
Raan nodded. “It will not be easy, but yes, Commander. I believe we are.”
Shepard turned to us. Only to see Tali wander away, her back to all of us, looking out to the distant sea. Shepard and I followed her, standing beside her as she drank in the landscape and tried to come to terms with all that had happened.
“Shopping for another house?” Shepard asked at last.
“Beach-front property,” Tali sighed.
“Better claim it fast. It’s a buyer’s market.”
Tali sat down on a convenient rock. We joined her there, and rested for a time in a companionable silence.
“You okay?” Shepard asked after a while. “I know working with the geth will be difficult.”
“I’m not staying. I’m coming with you.”
He chuckled. “I wasn’t going to ask.”
“I know, but you need me. I can act as a liaison for my people, and for the geth as well. Until the Reapers have been defeated, Rannoch still is not safe for any of us.”
“If you’re certain.”
“Yeah. I am.” Tali sighed. “I look at all this peace, and all I can think about is all the people I’ve lost. My team on Freedom’s Progress. My team on Haestrom. My father. Even Legion. I’m mourning a geth. How crazy is that?”
“It’s not crazy at all.”
Tali rose to her feet once more, still staring out across the landscape.
“It is beautiful, though, isn’t it?”
Shepard only nodded.
“It will be years before we can live without our suits completely, but for now . . .”
She reached up and carefully detached her visor, pulling it away. Shepard and I saw her face, the first unmasked quarian either of us had ever seen. One of the few unmasked quarians any outsider had seen in three hundred years.
I suppose I should not have been surprised. I had known Tali for several years, had fought at her side, had shared any number of confidences with her. I knew her soul was beautiful, and didn’t care about her outward appearance. Outward appearance didn’t seem to matter much to quarians anyway.
