by Peter David
CHAPTER 5
* * *
Luther Mann had not been entirely sure of what to make of Olympia Vale when he had first been introduced to her.
She was personable enough, there was no denying that. Of average size and build for the most part, but certainly well-toned, due to an exercise regimen that Luther had noticed her engaging in that morning. During the rest of the time, she interacted with Henry Lamb, who was clearly quite taken with her, as he would extol to Luther her endless array of virtues and wonder if she saw him in the same light. Luther had no clue. To him, women were a constant source of mystery (especially Ramona), and he’d long ago given up any hope of actually understanding what was going through their minds. Then again, to be fair, he felt much the same way about men, so at least he wasn’t biased.
As time went on, it became clear to him, though, that Vale was not remotely interested in Henry. She was all business. Luther didn’t bother to inform Henry of this, because he was clearly blind to it.
Her skin had a dark cast to it, complementing the thick sheaf of brown hair kept tied back in a ponytail that swished back and forth like a pendulum whenever she walked. Her curiously curved face reminded him of a classic Valentine heart, rounded and with a pointed chin.
He liked her attitude—very crisp and to the point. It was also clear to Luther that she had a great deal of understanding when it came to the Sangheili. He certainly had a good deal of life experience when it came to speaking to those who had no idea what he was going on about. Any number of times he had spoken about the Sangheili, or the Forerunners, for that matter, he’d frequently been met with puzzled and blank looks. That was not the case with Olympia Vale. He saw immediate intuition with her when it came to discussing anything having to do with the Sangheili, and he was extremely relieved about that.
Vale had been dispatched to Voi for the exact reason that Henry had previously speculated: as an interface between the Sangheili and the humans who would participate in the expedition. But since the Sangheili had not yet arrived, she was keeping company with the two of them, occasionally asking them questions with genuine interest.
At the moment, Vale was studying the massive array of Forerunner machinery that lined the corridor they were exploring—heavy-duty tech that ran off the main hallway, and the wall was covered with symbols. They had accessed this part of the artifact from the network of gantries and catwalks ONI had fabricated in the deep recesses of the portal’s outer boundary.
“See here,” Luther was saying, standing next to her, holding a flashlight for them both. “I’m pretty confident that this sequence of glyphs refers to the Excession’s primary activation stem, and this line here probably depicts the process to get the drive turned back on.”
“And how has that been going?” asked Vale.
“Slowly,” Henry spoke up with obvious frustration in his voice. “Whenever it comes to dealing with Forerunner technology, ‘slowly’ is how we go about doing things.”
Vale dropped her voice slightly. “From my understanding, ‘slowly’ may not be an option now in our toolbox.”
“I’m aware of that,” Henry said, “but the bottom line remains that the technology that we’re dealing with is thousands of years old. If we do anything precipitously, we could trigger a chain reaction that will give us the exact opposite of the results that we want.”
Vale nodded. “All right. I can accept that. But answer me this: How do we know we aren’t wasting our time here? I mean, my understanding as Doctor Mann here explained it to me . . .”
“Luther, please.”
“. . . is that the damage caused at this end was the result of what occurred on the Ark. Isn’t that why ONI hasn’t had any progress on it for the last two years?”
“Not entirely. Based upon the actions of the various automated systems we’ve seen on different Halo installations,” said Henry, “we are assuming that may not be the case after all. Forerunner devices tend to be self-monitoring and are always capable of initiating dramatic repairs, even to things as complex as biomes and life-supporting systems. It would actually be an extraordinary exception to the rule if the portal wasn’t actually repaired on that end, given what we know of the Ark and what was recovered from the Forward Unto Dawn, the human ship exposed to it in ’52.”
“That’s quite an assumption,” Vale said drily.
“It is,” Luther agreed. “But it’s the one upon which we’re operating. Truthfully, we’re in a position where we have to assume it, because the alternative of traveling through space using conventional slipspace methods to get there, even with Forerunner drive technology, is simply not feasible.”
“And am I safe in assuming that you two are the ones who sold the assumption to ONI and the UNSC?”
Luther nodded. “By extension, yes. We sold it to others, and they sold it to ONI and UNSC.”
Vale thought about it a moment and then nodded. “Okay, then. So we essentially have to assume that you’re right.”
“We typically do,” said Luther.
Vale permitted a small smile at that.
“Here’s the thing,” Henry said. “What we really need is a Forerunner keyship. That’s what they normally used to activate a portal. The Forerunners used these vessels as security keys, opening and closing portals that they had scattered throughout the galaxy. Without one . . . we’re just guessing here.”
“Then we find a keyship,” Vale said matter-of-factly. “What happened to the one the Covenant used last time?”
“We’re hoping our Sangheili friends might help us with that,” said Luther.
Vale turned and seemed to be looking into his eyes for the first time. “For the record, in all of my interactions with the Sangheili, I’ve never heard them mention anything about a keyship. And I’ve never been much for relying on far-fetched hopes, either. That’s always been a bit too vague for me. I’m much more in favor of actually accomplishing things.”
They were spread out through the complex, everyone listening to their exchange, when Luther heard the sound of heavy feet approaching. “I believe we’re about to have company,” he informed his compatriots.
Their shadows preceded them, and then Luther could see the Elites as they strode toward him. He felt his hair clench, and a chill ran down his spine. Luther forced a sudden smile onto his face and wondered if the Sangheili would be able to discern how insincere it was. He doubted it; they were aliens, after all, and likely were not entirely familiar with the subtlety and range of human expression. At least, that was what he told himself. For a moment, he remembered how they had seemed beautiful to him in his youth. Pretty. That feeling was suddenly gone.
Spartan Frank Kodiak was leading them in. He appeared no more pleased over their advent than Luther was, nor was he making even the slightest effort to wear an insincere smile. He pointed at Luther as the group approached and said, “That’s Doctor Luther Mann. He’s in charge of the repair efforts.”
“Greetings, Luther Mann,” rumbled the larger of the two Sangheili. “I am N’tho ‘Sraom. This”—and he indicated the Elite next to him—“is Usze ‘Taham.”
“A Huragok!” Henry said. As someone who had devoted his life to the practice of engineering, he seemed thrilled to find himself face to face with a creature that had apparently been the epitome of Forerunner engineering prowess.
“Oh, yes,” said N’tho as if he had forgotten. “And this is Drifts Randomly.”
Luther had no trouble understanding what N’tho was saying, given the translation earpiece he had been provided. He was wearing it at Richards’s insistence, even though he had assured her that he would be able to discern whatever any Sangheili said to him.
“I’ve spent time with Huragok before,” said Henry. “There were at one time several being utilized by the Office of Naval Intelligence, and I had the opportunity to work with them over a week’s time, with the aid of an interpreter. Not sure what’s happened to them since then, but I learned more about Forerunner technolo
gy in that one week than I had in the previous years. A tremendously educational experience.”
Olympia Vale strode forward and flawlessly addressed N’tho in his native tongue. Luther was extremely impressed. Her Sangheili was perfect; certainly superior to his.
N’tho was also obviously taken, as he responded in his own language. Then she turned and shifted her attention to the floating creature. “Unbelievable. A Huragok,” she said. “I have heard of them, of course, but that certainly does not do them justice.”
The Huragok did not respond; it didn’t even appear to notice her. Instead it simply drifted about, gazing at the technology lining the walls.
Then Luther whistled.
Instantly, to the surprise of everyone—including the Sangheili—the Huragok shifted its position and turned to face him. Luther continued to produce a series of whistles, combined with hand gestures that seemed vaguely reminiscent of sign language.
The Huragok began to imitate Luther . . . no, respond. It was whistling and gesturing back at him, and as it did so, Luther became more excited over the success he was having.
The Elite were clearly stunned. “That is . . . unusual,” said N’tho. “It does not normally speak to humans.”
“Or to anyone, for that matter,” said Usze. “My own translation device has been specially designed to communicate with it, but thus far it has more or less ignored me.”
“It’s just a matter of knowing how to talk to it,” Luther said, as if conversing with a Huragok was the simplest matter in the world.
Vale didn’t miss a beat. “Dr. Mann is one of the foremost experts of Forerunner culture and language in the field. There’s very little we’ve learned about their way of life that he’s not familiar with.”
“That isn’t quite true,” Luther said immediately. “We know so little even now. We’re really only just scratching the surface.” He wondered how his expertise might make the Sangheili feel, given their people’s historic view of the Forerunners. Then again, the earlier briefing Luther attended had confirmed that these Elites were aligned with the Arbiter, which meant that, among other things, they had generally abandoned the former notion that the Forerunners were gods.
The Huragok whistled at Luther for a few moments more and then floated toward a section of the paneling. Vale couldn’t resist asking: “What did it say?”
“It merely asked me where I learned to speak its language. I told it that I spoke many languages.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t any big deal. “That’s just always come naturally to me, I suppose. Whenever I hear a new language, I pick it up very quickly.”
“I’d call that a gift. But how did you pick up the Huragok language?” asked Vale.
“Those same Huragok that Henry worked with. I had a similar opportunity. However, when the translator spoke with them, I used the occasion to really learn how to communicate with them. It isn’t that difficult if you pay close attention to their speech patterns.”
“Apparently you were quite proficient,” said N’tho.
Abruptly they were interrupted by the sound of running feet echoing down the hallway. They all looked in confusion as Captain Annabelle Richards appeared, then slowed to a halt the moment she drew within view of the rest of the group. They stared at her with reactions ranging from concern to curiosity.
Appearing to be lacking for some actual reason to be there, she cleared her throat and then said, as officially as she apparently could, “Just checking in. Wanted to make certain that everything was going all right.”
“Um, yes,” said Luther, sounding as puzzled as he looked. “Any particular reason why everything would not be going all right?”
It seemed to Luther that her gaze flickered to the Spartan for just a moment, but Kodiak wasn’t displaying even the slightest emotion. He was just standing there, indifferent. In truth, Luther perceived one possible explanation for the captain’s strange behavior: The sole reason Olympia Vale had been added to the expedition stemmed from concerns around the proposal of a hybrid team, one that included both humans and Sangheili. It had never been formally done before, and it was clear that ONI had carefully assessed all the possible risks in this mission, which would have been many. While it had been well over two years since the end of the war, tensions still remained . . . and concerns between their species had not lessened.
“No,” said Richards after a long moment. “No reason at all. Carry on.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Spartan Kodiak. Please report to me when you’re done here.”
“Yes, Captain.”
N’tho turned to the others as Richards walked away. “You will find this Huragok particularly useful. It has worked extensively with Forerunner technology and will have great familiarity with anything presented to it, and in particular the processes that are of great concern in order to activate this machine.”
“That’s excellent to hear,” said Vale. “If there’s anything the Huragok needs . . .”
“It will need nothing,” N’tho said with complete confidence. “Other than something to fix, the Huragok has no requirements.”
“Well, I’ll be happy to keep it company anyway,” Luther said.
“We will keep the premises secure,” N’tho announced.
“Secure?” Luther frowned. “From what?”
“We remain concerned about possible information compromises,” N’tho replied. “Word spreading about the potential cataclysm and the attempts here to avert that.”
“Most of the people on this world are unaware of the situation,” Luther said immediately. “In fact, only a handful actually know about the countdown on the Halo installations and our intentions to get the portal online. The others here are ignorant to it and have been working on this site, well, since the end of the war. They were stationed here long before we showed up and will, with any luck, be here long after we’re gone.”
“I understand that,” said N’tho. “But if others should learn of what is happening and our reason for being here . . .”
“They won’t,” said Vale flatly, in perfect Sangheili. “It will not happen.”
“How can you know that for a certainty?”
Vale paused and then seemed to shrug mentally. “Let’s just say that there are certain individuals connected with this endeavor who are going to make sure that word does not get out. This is a covert operation, on a need-to-know basis. If any individuals should uncover the truth, they will—how best to put this—disappear for a time.”
The Elites glanced at each other. “How very thorough,” said N’tho.
“Yes, extremely thorough,” said Vale.
“Nevertheless, we will be running frequent perimeter checks by way of our orbiting vessel to make certain that there are no individuals who should not, in fact, be here.”
Frank Kodiak actually laughed at that. It was a most unusual sound coming from a Spartan. “Security? You two?”
“Yes, along with my ship’s crew,” said N’tho. “Why do you find that amusing?”
“I believe,” Vale stepped in before Kodiak could respond, “that the Spartan here is thinking about the amount of security already in place. There are dozens of drones canvassing the artifact as we speak, and the entire site has been secured by a number of sensor barricades and checkpoint measures. You were being tracked during your entire approach. If the Spartan had not been with you, the checkpoints would have gone off and drones would have attacked within seconds. So I believe that the Spartan was being encouraging, to try and assure you that your surveying the area for security breaches, while very much appreciated, isn’t necessary. That is not what you should be focusing on.”
“Indeed. And what should we be focusing on?”
Luther spoke up this time. “What you’ll be needed for is whatever’s waiting for us on the Ark once we get there. You have both been there, after all.”
“Yes, we have,” agreed Usze.
“That’s where your expertise will be of use,” said Luther. �
�You’ll be needed to guide us to the place on the Ark where we can potentially shut down whatever is happening at the Halo rings. It’ll most likely be the very same communications array utilized two years ago. No one will be more qualified for that task than you both. With the greatest respect, I believe that alone should be what occupies you for the time being. We don’t really know what we’ll find there.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Henry said.
“What do you mean?” Luther didn’t know where he was going with this.
“I have a friend, an old buddy from school, who runs the telemetry sensors on Pylon Five. We grabbed drinks last night, and he confided to me that ONI’s apparently already sent people to the Ark. There have been two expeditions so far, both completely off the books.”
“You didn’t tell him about this mission, did you?” Luther couldn’t believe he was asking this again after their conversation on the Halo ring.
“No, but plenty of the people working at this site are curious what the ONI heads are up to, given the added security over the past few days. As well as us. They’ll be even more suspicious when they get a look at these guys,” he said, nodding to the Sangheili.
“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Luther suddenly felt a bit nervous at the idea that information had been withheld from him and that he was now getting that information through an unqualified source.
Henry looked at the ground as he responded. “I wanted to, but there hasn’t really been an opportunity till now, Luther,” he said. “He told me that the other missions to the Ark evidently ended in disaster.”
“Specifically how?”
“Disappearances. No one returned, no traces ever found, and no clear communication records, either.”
“Okay,” Luther said. “That sounds positive. How does he even know this?”
“Not sure,” Henry responded. “Some clerk misfiled paperwork on it or something. It was a clerical error, and he told me in confidence. Probably shouldn’t even be talking about it now.”
