by Matt Forbeck
She gave me a glare hard enough to cut diamonds. “I need to have a word with you in private.”
“There’s no need for that.” I glanced around at the others. Samrat and Gomez were trying not to laugh at me, and Svensdottir just rolled her eyes.
“Go ahead and hash it out with her, Gunny,” she said. “The rest of us don’t need to listen to it.”
Veronica gave her a sharp nod of thanks. “The rest of you are dismissed.”
Sam and Gomez almost tripped over each other in their rush to get out of the room. Svensdottir strolled after them, shaking her head.
I shoved back my chair and put my boots up on the conference table in the center of the room. Veronica remained standing and stared down at me with unblinking anger.
“Is this about us?” she said. “Is that why you feel the need to subvert my authority every chance you get?”
I put up my hands. “I wasn’t under the impression there was an us for this to be about. I mean, you were the one who didn’t say a word to me for a year.”
She looked away. “Then I guess you’re absolutely right.”
“Look.” I put my feet down and leaned forward on the table. “That may have been one of the greatest weeks of my life—sure, that’s a low bar for me, considering I’ve spent my entire adulthood fighting the Covenant—but my decision to go help Gamma-Six had nothing to do with us. Whatever us is.”
“It’s nothing.” She rubbed her forehead. “Nothing at all.”
I don’t mind telling you how that stabbed me in the heart.
“I understand why you did it,” she said. “But you have no idea how much you risked by pulling that stunt. That data chip you rescued has already been paid for with too many good people’s blood.”
I pulled the chip out of the case in which I’d hidden it and put it down on the table as gently as if it were made of spun glass. I slid it across the smooth surface to her, and she scooped it up without touching my fingers once.
“If we’re going to work together, Buck, you need to trust me. There will be things I can’t always tell you—things you don’t need to know—but you need to believe I have our best interests at heart.”
“Our? Our who?” I stood up.
“Humanity’s.”
I pursed my lips at her and nodded. “I believe you believe that, but here’s my problem. We do have a history, and I wouldn’t say that it’s based on mutual trust.”
She looked down at the data chip in her open palm and then closed her hand around it. “You’ve got that right. Dismissed.”
It’s hard to believe that we wound up together again after that, I know, but it was a long war. We couldn’t duck each other forever—especially not when the stakes were at their highest. She avoided me as long as she could, and I’m not too proud to admit I did the same, right up until the Covenant found and invaded Earth in 2552.
But I’ll get to that in a bit. Sorry if I’m jumping around here. That’s how I’m hardwired. Try to keep up.
Once the war officially ended and hostilities with the Covenant wound down in 2553, I took the opportunity to put in for some shore leave with Veronica. She’d long since gotten over being furious with me about the Sargasso mission—hell, it had been about seven years—and by then, maybe it was time to see if we might have a future together.
It’s almost impossible for a soldier to maintain a relationship during wartime. It’s even harder to date an ONI officer at any given time. But with the shooting coming to an end, we decided to head to the beaches of the colony of Sundown and give it a shot.
I’ll admit I had my doubts. Romances under fire have a tendency to cool down when the pressure’s off and you realize you might actually have a tomorrow to live for. It’s one thing to blast your way out of New Mombasa together like we did, and an entirely different kind of challenge to plan some kind of future with each other in it.
ODSTs are notoriously bad at thinking about retirement, much less finding someone to spend it with, and I fully expected everything to fall apart within days, if not hours.
On the other hand, if you can’t find a good way to woo someone on Sundown, there may not be any hope for you. It’s a water world filled with archipelagoes of mountainous islands that stab up from the tropical waves like rows of teeth. Cable cars move you from peak to peak via cable lines that string the islands together like pearls.
The planet has this odd tilt to it that, combined with its particular sun, lights the sky up like it’s sunset for the entire day. The nights are even better, with an aurora borealis that dances sheets of blue, green, and pink lights throughout the brilliant, starry sky. Add the gentle rolling of the surf everywhere you go, and it cannot be beat.
Our luxury tiki hut was one of a series of private villas that stood out on wooden pillars above a long stretch of shallow, sheltered sea. As you walked out on the balcony or along the boardwalks that connected the villas like dots in a kid’s activity vid, you could look down and see cephradons, giant manta ray–like creatures swooping below you, winging their way between playful crèches of indigenous navorcas, curious sea mammals more like dolphins than anything else. We spent a lot of time out there, sipping boat drinks, soaking in the sun, and swimming in the warm, salty water.
We’d been on Sundown a full week, and I’ll be damned if we weren’t still having the time of our lives. I’ve known a fair few people in my life, but I never fit with anyone the way I did with Veronica. We even dared to start talking about a life together, like it might actually happen.
Then the big damn combat boot of our careers dropped spikes-first between us.
It began with a knock on the door of our private floating villa—a gentle rap that we tried to ignore, which built into a persistent pounding. I shouted at it to go away.
By the time it came to a crescendo that sounded like a gravity hammer beating on a slab of bedrock, I was ready to fire bullets through the door, but Veronica stopped me with a gentle hand. She had a gun in the other one, sure, but she always has the calmer head.
“Who is it?” she called, as if the intruder hadn’t stopped just shy of breaking down the door.
A smooth male voice replied: “My name is Jun, and I’m with the SPARTAN-IV program. I’m here on official business.”
I hated those two words. “Official business” always meant a hard day at the office for me.
This was no exception.
I actually glanced out toward the balcony and the open sea beyond. Maybe Veronica and I could make it to the water before this guy got through the door. With a little luck, we might be able to slip free.
I gave her a look and jerked my head toward the balcony. She rolled her eyes at me and waved the door open.
I did my best to mask my disappointment at her decision as Jun strolled into the room. In the warm Sundown air, we were sweating in our swimsuits, but he stood there dressed in black business attire as if he’d just strolled into a climate-controlled boardroom.
I’d met him before, on Reach, just before it fell back in 2552, but we’d both been armored up—me as an ODST and him as a Spartan. I’d never seen his face, which featured a tattoo on his left cheek of a fist holding three arrows.
Like every Spartan, he towered over us, nearly scraping his bald head on the top of the doorway. He carried himself with a quiet power that reminded you he could kill everyone within sight in a matter of seconds. You lived only because he had no reason to destroy you.
“I apologize for disturbing you during your leave.”
I grimaced and made way for him to enter the main room. “No one’s sorrier than me.”
He found a seat on one of the embroidered blue pillows that lay scattered about the place, and he smiled up at me. “I didn’t say I was sorry.”
I opened my mouth to propose a number of ways I could remedy that particular problem for him. To her cred
it, Veronica recognized that was coming and spoke up first. “Exactly why are you here?”
“To speak to Sergeant Buck.”
That set me back. I’d assumed he was there for Veronica, and I didn’t care for his gaze to turn toward me. I eyed the balcony again, but leaned back against the door to the villa’s bedroom and folded my arms across my chest instead. “Okay. So speak.”
“Privately.” He glanced at Veronica, and now it was her turn to be taken aback. It was one thing to not be the subject of the conversation, but an ONI official being kicked out of the room jet-jumped right over that.
“Her clearance level is far higher than mine,” I said.
“Not for this.”
I pushed off the wall and took a step toward him. “I’m telling you, anything you can say to me, you can say in front of her.”
Veronica put a hand on my chest. “Just forget it.” She ducked past me and grabbed a sundress, then slipped it on over her head as she made for the door.
I glared at Jun. “I’m just going to tell her, anyway.”
She spun on me from the open doorway. “No, you’re not.”
I tried to protest, but she cut me off.
“I’m ONI, Eddie. I know the rules.”
“But—”
“There are lots of things I can’t tell you. It’s only fair you have some of your own.”
She zipped out the door before I could say another word. I considered going after her, but between her and the Spartan, I didn’t see how that could go well. I turned back to Jun.
“It appears you now have my undivided attention.”
“I’ll try to be brief.” Jun resettled himself to face me. “You’re familiar with the Spartans.”
“I’ve encountered my fair share.”
He gave me a nod of acknowledgment. “You served with the 11th Shock Troops Battalion on Reach.”
“That I did. Spartan-B312 helped me out of a pinch in New Alexandria.”
Jun bowed his head. “Noble Six was a good man.”
I gave him a moment to collect himself. He still had eyes as dry as a glassed desert.
“You have an exemplary combat record, Sergeant Buck. You’re a fantastic leader. One of the finest soldiers in the ODST.”
“You’re making me blush.”
“Just because the Covenant War is over doesn’t mean there aren’t battles to be fought.”
“Is this some kind of recruiting drive? Because I still have a good while left on my current tour.”
“Recruiting? In a way.” He sized me up. “How would you like to become a Spartan?”
That caught me so off guard I actually laughed out loud.
“It’s not a joke,” Jun said.
“Of course it’s not.” I tried to maintain my composure. “But aren’t I a little old for that? Unless ONI’s recovered some kind of Covenant youth ray?”
Jun stood up. He didn’t crack even the slightest smile. “We’re in the process of launching a new program. The Spartan-IVs. We’d like you to be a member of our first class of recruits.”
That stopped me like a pair of underwear made of ice. “Wait. You’re serious.”
“Always.”
It takes a lot to make me speechless, but he’d rung my bell hard. “How . . . ?”
“Building on the SPARTAN-II and SPARTAN-III programs, we’ve developed a means of improving existing soldiers to superhuman levels of strength, speed, durability, and endurance. This isn’t something that could have been efficiently accomplished in earlier years, but with advances over the course of the war, it’s finally attainable.”
“And then you don’t have to take children from their families anymore either.”
Now that got his attention. By this point, I was pretty much convinced of the rumors I’d heard, about how ONI had kidnapped children from their homes to induct them into the SPARTAN program, but no one I’d talked with had ever been able to back that up. The way the mention of it tweaked Jun’s nose out of joint gave me the first real confirmation that the horrible tales had to be true.
Despite that, Jun remained a professional. He recomposed his features and gestured at himself. “I was actually an orphan myself, but yes, that’s an excellent side effect.”
I slumped against the wall behind me and rubbed the stubble on my chin that Veronica didn’t seem to mind. I didn’t know how she’d feel about me becoming some kind of super-soldier, though, and was reluctant to ask.
“What about the rest of my team?” I asked.
Jun shook his head. “This is a highly selective program. We’re only looking for the best.”
That got my hackles up. “They are the best. I’d have been buried a dozen times over without them.”
“We have your combat records, Sergeant. Not just your reports, but the full set of data your armor collects, plus an AI dedicated to analyzing them. We know full well who’s been saving whom.”
“Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to for little old me.”
“You’re not the only one I’m having this conversation with. Just one of the few.”
“And the others don’t include anyone else from Alpha-Nine.”
“No disrespect intended. They’re good soldiers, Sergeant, every one of them. Even that one you call the Rookie. But speaking to that point, none of them have your skills or experience.”
“They’re learning faster than I ever did.”
“That’s not true.”
“And I suppose your AI can prove it.”
Jun nodded.
I narrowed my eyes at the man. He wasn’t going to give me anything on this, and I knew it. Spartans don’t bargain much, and even if he wanted to, I sensed he didn’t have the authority. He wasn’t making the rules here, just carrying them out.
“How much time do I have?”
Jun gestured toward the door. “I have a shuttle waiting for us. We can leave right now.”
“I meant, to decide.”
That surprised him. “Ah. Not much. Our first class is already well under way. I would have come to recruit you sooner, but Commander Musa decided to let you enjoy your leave.”
“My leave’s not over until tomorrow.”
“We didn’t want you to waste too much time making any new plans.”
I didn’t know if that was a thinly veiled reference to my advancing relationship with Veronica or not. I didn’t really care.
“Will there be a second class?”
“Maybe. A lot depends on the quality of soldiers we can induct into the first class. Programs have to prove themselves to survive.”
I’ll admit it. I thought about it. I actually considered it.
I mean, wouldn’t you? As much as I didn’t care for the Spartans as an idea, every one of them I’d ever met had been a solid person. They weren’t the most sociable types, but they got the job—any job—done. You could trust any one of them with your life.
But I already had a team that trusted me with their lives, and I couldn’t just abandon them like that.
I gotta admit, though, the idea of being transformed into a world-saving super-soldier with the power to drive your foes before you had its allure. I was mighty tempted.
I looked toward the door Veronica had disappeared through. We’d only just started thinking about our lives together. What would becoming something more than human do to that?
“Thanks,” I said, “but I’m going to have to say no.”
Jun looked as stunned as if I’d spat on his best outfit, then said: “You do realize the opportunity you’re turning down here, Sergeant?”
“The chance to become the kind of superhero every kid dreams about. Yeah. I’ve seen the marketing vids.”
“I hope this isn’t some kind of negotiating tactic. The answer about the rest of your team is final.�
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“As is mine.”
Jun shook his head in disbelief and moved toward the door. “All right, then. It’s your choice,” he said. “We don’t want anyone in the program who isn’t committed one hundred percent.”
“Which is why my answer has to be no.”
He grunted at that. “They told me you’d be straight with me.”
“Haven’t I been?”
“Like a laser.”
He was about to leave when I shot him one more question. “How many others have turned you down?”
“You mean, how many dedicated UNSC soldiers have declined the opportunity to become part of the next wave of super-soldiers capable of securing peace throughout the galaxy?” Jun shrugged. “Take a guess.”
“I don’t think I could.”
“None, Sergeant,” he said flatly. “You’re the first.”
A dagger pierced my belly. “My mother always said I was special.”
“Well, she got that right, I suppose. She just didn’t know how.”
“She also mentioned ‘especially stubborn’ from time to time.”
“May she rest in peace.” Jun stopped himself, then stuck out his hand, and I shook it. “It’s been an honor. Please extend my apologies to Captain Dare for my quick departure.”
“You have a galaxy to go save. I’ll get back to doing the same. In my own way. Tomorrow though.”
When he was gone, I wandered over to the bar in the villa’s main room and poured myself a stiff drink. Then I went out onto the balcony to enjoy the dying rays of the last sunset of my leave, giving thanks that I’d never have to explain the situation to Veronica. She wouldn’t even ask what the Spartan and I talked about, but a part of me wondered if she knew already just the same.
EIGHT
* * *
Come to the truth of it, I almost said yes to Jun that day on Sundown, but the idea that I’d have to abandon my teammates—and maybe Veronica, too—just galled me. I’d been through hell with the latest version of Alpha-Nine, and like my uncle Lou and his fishing rod, I couldn’t bear to part with it.
