“Good Lord,” muttered Luther. “How are we going to get back home?”
Usze ‘Taham stepped up behind him. “My people have a saying: The velithra can only walk the path one at a time. It means that we should focus on the present problem first before worrying about what comes next.”
Luther hadn’t heard of them before. “What is a velithra?”
“A large beast of burden found in northern Yermo,” Usze said. “We force them along the narrow paths up the mountains just before the rain season, so they can only move one by one. If they try to move too quickly ahead or pass another, they will fall off the side of the mountain. We have one task, Doctor: stopping Halo from firing. After that, we can worry about transportation.”
They were standing in what appeared to be a forestlike environment. Just as on the Zeta Halo, the grass beneath their feet was greener than anything Luther had seen back on Earth, and what appeared to be fir trees of some sort were towering over them. He inhaled deeply and marveled at how clean and brisk the air seemed. Just as with all of the Forerunner creations that Luther had encountered, it was almost impossible for him to believe that everything around them had not been a part of some natural order and evolution. The Forerunners had built not only the Halo installations, but also this enormous Ark, either from whole cloth or through the actions of terraforming distant worlds. Incredible.
“So what’s the current plan of record, then?” said Luther. “The briefings indicated that the Endeavor was going to be bringing a sufficient amount of vehicles to cover any terrain between us and the citadel that the communications node projects from. From a look at the hangar the last time I was inside the Mayhem, I’m guessing there aren’t a lot of locomotive options. So . . . how are we planning on getting to the citadel?”
“We’re going to walk.”
Other members of the exploratory party were now emerging from the vessel. Luther had to admit that he was surprised when he saw Olympia Vale coming out. The last he’d seen of her, she’d been thrown to the floor on the bridge. Now she was striding forward, looking utterly confident. “Excuse me,” he said to Usze and headed over to Vale. She saw him approaching and tossed off a wave as he drew nearer. “I see you’re up and around.”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” he said, making no effort to hide his worry. “You took a pretty bad fall.”
“I’m completely okay. Drifts fixed me up.” He stared at the creature that was floating a few meters away. She clapped her hands together briskly. “We ready to go?”
“I suppose so.”
Luther couldn’t help but notice that Vale had a firearm fixed to her thigh, an M6 pistol from the looks of it—he hadn’t noticed it before, so this must have been something she’d packed away on the Condor. It made sense, standing here on such an incredibly massive and largely unexplored world as the Ark, with potential dangers around any corner. Nevertheless, he hadn’t touched a firearm in years, and he wasn’t about to start now.
“You suppose?” She seemed amazed. “If you’re not, you better be getting ready quick. We’re all relying on you to figure this whole thing out, you know.”
“If we fail here or if it all turns out to be a dead end, then that’s it for everything. Forgive me if I’m having trouble mustering excitement on that prospect in particular.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine. And if not, we’ve got Drifts.”
Luther stared at her for a moment and then, to his surprise, laughed. This prompted Vale to grin broadly. The Huragok floated up from behind, its tentacles flowing in an easygoing fashion, despite the drama it had just endured.
At this point, everyone else who was going to be heading toward the citadel had emerged from the downed ship. The Sangheili were conferring with Richards. Apart from N’tho ‘Sraom and Usze ‘Taham, there were two others who would be involved in the expedition: the helmsman who had introduced himself as Zon ‘Vadum and a Sangheili ranger named Kola ‘Baoth. The rest of the Sangheili crew would remain behind, apparently assigned to help determine the extent of Mayhem’s damage and possibly initiate whatever repairs could be made without aid from the Huragok.
The two Spartans were standing off to the side, fully decked out with their cobalt-blue combat armor, not far off from Henry Lamb. They weren’t talking with each other, but simply standing there, with their battle rifles at the ready, waiting for the order to start walking. They certainly looked more intimidating with their helmets on, and Luther noted that Kodiak had a deactivated Covenant energy sword magnetically latched to his thigh armor. He wondered where the hell it had come from.
Interestingly enough, Henry Lamb hadn’t spent very much time on the bridge during the trip, but chose instead to explore the interior of the ship and was advised by Usze only to be careful and stay out of the way. When they were attacked by the Retrievers, he’d been locked down in a random corridor and managed to survive, completely oblivious of the attack and with only a few bumps and bruises. Right now, he was content fiddling with a long-range optics device, which allowed him to view extreme distances, as well as scan and record whatever he was seeing.
Several UNSC soldiers were milling about, too, getting their gear and weapons in order as they prepared to set off. They were obviously the ones that Captain Richards had brought with her when she first boarded the Mayhem. But not all of them would be making the journey to the citadel; the rest had been assigned to Lieutenant Radeen, in order to remain there and secure the vessel and, if possible, help the Sangheili with repairs. A handful were now gathering behind Richards as she approached the Sangheili and doing what soldiers were supposed to: waiting eagerly for their commanding officer to issue them orders.
“All of you, please listen to me,” N’tho called out, his voice carrying above the low chatter all around. He pointed some distance away. “That is where we are heading.” He then raised a palm-size device, which suddenly projected a hologram of the Ark at eye level. A beacon appeared on the hologram, and the projection zoomed in to show just the very narrow sliver of territory they were on at the innermost edge of the Ark’s central hub, bordering the foundry that long ago manufactured the individual Halo rings. The beacon clearly represented the communications array, one of several that existed on the Ark. This one was situated in the fortified citadel that happened to be the very same that the UNSC had encountered on their last visit here. This place already had some history with us, Luther thought, even if it was only two years ago.
“We will be going through some challenging terrain and some heavily damaged areas, so now is the time to prepare. Due to the damage that this structure has sustained, habitability and climate systems can and will fluctuate, but Mayhem’s scans reveal that we should be fine for the time needed to access the citadel and potentially deactivate Halo’s firing mechanism. It is imperative that we remain together, so do not wander or fall behind. There were many perils on this installation the last time I was here, and no doubt, there are many more now.”
Then, without another word, N’tho started walking, a procession of Sangheili and humans immediately following behind.
Luther noticed that the Elite seemed to be moving at about half his normal stride, and he quickly realized why: it was so the humans in the group would be able to keep up with him. Luther felt that to be rather considerate. Even though some kind of reconciliation had occurred, he still didn’t think that Captain Richards, the Spartans, or any of the marines present would be remotely inclined to feel positive toward the towering Sangheili, considering the circumstances of how they had gotten there.
Luther had his equipment bag with him, filled with a number of sensors and networked communication instruments that he slung onto his shoulder. As he did so, Henry Lamb came up to him. “Need any help?”
“No, I’m fine. I have a handle on it. How about you?”
“Good to go.” He breathed deeply. “Hard to believe we’re here.”
“It is. To be honest, having had some time t
o think about it, I’m glad we’re not back at Voi, twiddling our thumbs while waiting for the ONI analysts to figure out what’s most important. Although I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to the captain.”
“Stays between us.”
“Good.”
They kept walking.
The line of individuals fell into step behind N’tho ‘Sraom and the Sangheili ranger Kola. Usze ‘Taham, Luther noticed, was walking alongside the other Elite, Zon ‘Vadum, both taking up the rear. That made sense, as he was reminded that many species developed innate protection instincts when it came to their young, huddling them to the center of the pack. It was alarming on two levels, however: first, the Elites were protecting humans in this case, which was somewhat extraordinary given the last three decades of all-out war between their species, and second, the two Sangheili at the rear reminded him there was real danger in this place, because anything could come up behind them at any time.
And that stray thought began to cause him concern. Just what exactly did they have to worry about?
That’s when the party stopped for a moment and collectively stared skyward as a series of large shadows passed above them. Luther’s natural inclination was that it was simply a flock of birds, but then he looked up and gasped.
There was no real word for whatever the hell they were—a group of flying creatures moved slowly by, a few dozen meters above them. Luther had never seen anything quite like this species: they were leviathans, creatures as large as whales and bearing some similar features. Their large, somewhat-bulbous teardrop shapes appeared to be effortlessly cruising through the air. They had large toothy mouths that extended across their fronts and about a third of the way down their flanks. He couldn’t see the tops of them at all, but their undersides were of the purest white, shimmering in the light that reflected off them.
But that was not the most striking thing about them. They were singing, sounding remarkably similar to the sorts of noises that Earth whales made when they moved through the oceans and conversed with each other.
One of the leviathans appeared to notice them. It drifted down toward the assemblage of travelers, all of whom stopped as it drew near. Luther noticed that several of the UNSC soldiers had elevated their rifles and firearms, aiming at it. He found this to be a ridiculous gesture. The creature wasn’t attacking them, and even if so, chances were that their weaponry wouldn’t do a damn thing against it. And up close, he began to ascertain its actual scale: this thing was the size of an ocean liner.
Still . . .
“No one shoot!” Luther called. “Don’t provoke it!”
The soldiers barely afforded him a glance. That did not exactly fill Luther with confidence.
“They take their orders from me, Doctor Mann,” Captain Richards said with just a hint of irritation. “Not from random civilians.”
“Please have them lower their weapons, Captain.”
Richards looked as if she were ready to start arguing; then, to his surprise, she gestured to her soldiers, who slowly and reluctantly lowered their ordnance. “Thank you, Captain,” said Luther.
“If it makes the slightest aggressive move, we’re going to blow it out of the sky,” Richards warned him.
Luther nodded, but he was sure that that would not be an issue. It was a mammoth, gorgeous creature, and he felt there was no way that it was going to prove any sort of offensive threat.
Except . . .
The leviathan drew ever closer. Now it had definitely noticed the beings below and had apparently decided they were worth checking out. Even Richards was getting nervous, for she muttered to her soldiers, and they raised their weapons again.
But the closer the leviathan neared, the more evident it became just how useless their weaponry would be. Best-case scenario: they would land a lucky shot and somehow manage to scare the thing . . . at which point it might drop out of the sky and crush them all. So obviously that wasn’t the best option.
The creature’s shadow cast over all of them, its song becoming so loud that some were putting their hands over their ears.
And then, to the surprise of everyone, Luther sang in response.
He had his hands cupped around his mouth, making loud noises that sounded eerily identical to what the leviathan had just been bellowing. The creature stopped drawing closer. Instead it hovered above in silence, its entire focus astoundingly on Luther.
Then the leviathan replied. At least that was certainly what it sounded like. It sang to Luther, and he responded. For a moment, it seemed as though they were able to hold congress, yet Luther had only intended to mimic the creature’s sound. After a while, it became clear that the jig was up. Luther wasn’t a friendly fellow creature, but just a noisy speck next to this enormous beast.
At which point the leviathan then broke off. Its entire massive body tilted to the side, and what appeared to be its wings rippled before propelling it upward. Within moments, the great creature’s shadow had diminished, rejoining the others and continuing on its way.
There were approving glances from Vale and Lamb, but most of the others were still on edge because of the proximity of the beast. Vale herself seemed astounded. “What in God’s name did you say to it?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” he replied. “But I’ve heard its songs while studying some of the captured audio from the Dawn’s time here, and I was able to discern general intent. The songs don’t seem to serve as a language in the same way that words do for us. It conveys feelings, sensations. I was just trying to mimic it to the best of my ability . . . and maybe in some way convince it that we intended no harm and were peaceful.”
“Seems like you managed to convince it.”
“More so than shooting at it,” said Luther, giving an annoyed glance at the soldiers. His disapproval apparently didn’t register, because they still kept their weapons in evidence until the leviathan was safely away. For a brief moment, Luther wondered if humans weren’t, in fact, the most dangerous creatures on this installation.
The group then continued its march.
The temperature remained consistent for the first hour or so, but the closer they drew to the Ark’s central core, the crisper the atmosphere became. This hadn’t come as a surprise to anyone on the team, as Luther’s previous research had accurately pegged the temperatures and conditions to expect from this part of the Ark. Fortunately, much of the gear and equipment needed for the expedition was already onboard the Condor, the dropship they’d originally intended to take to Endeavor when they left Voi. Despite the radical change of plans at the hands of the Sangheili, most of the team was properly kitted out in the appropriate thermal tech and gear.
The Ark was designed primarily for the manufacturing of the Halo ringworlds. This happened in the central core—effectively a foundry. The Forerunners designed this part of the installation so that the extremely hot temperatures generated by the materials forge, and the foundry itself, would be counteracted by an incredibly frigid atmosphere. This natural system seemed to be exacerbated by the trauma caused by the Halo activation and subsequent damage from years earlier. So cold weather wasn’t unexpected at all.
He noticed that there were wisps of snow starting to appear beneath his feet. A wind was beginning to whip up as well.
Within another half an hour, there was no longer any hint of grass around them. Instead it was now all covered with snow. It wasn’t thick, little more than a dusting. But before long, Luther was hearing a steady crunch of boots sinking into the thin layer of snow that had developed around them.
He looked skyward and was grateful to see that the artificial weather wasn’t getting any worse. So that was a relief at le—
Then the snow started to fall.
And shortly after that, they were all under attack.
CHAPTER 9
* * *
Cold?” said a voice close to Olympia Vale. She had been so focused on the trek and the surroundings that the sudden address caused her to jump slightl
y. She turned and saw that Spartan Holt was now striding next to her, his rifle latched to his back. He was positioned a little closer to her than she found comfortable, but it might have been because he was fully armored and he seemed much larger than before. She chose not to comment on it.
“A little, yeah.”
Vale wasn’t sure what to make of Holt, or Kodiak for that matter—especially when they were hidden behind their polarized visors. She’d seen enough already to tell that one of the main reasons she was involved in this operation was to try to keep the peace between the Spartans and the Sangheili, and that wasn’t a sign of endearment. Their bedside manner as cooperative team players left something to be desired.
She noticed that mist was drifting from her mouth. Had it gotten that chilly so quickly? “The weather around here is somewhat unpredictable, isn’t it?”
“A bit, yeah. Though I’ve been on enough alien worlds with alien climates at this point to not take predictability for granted anymore.”
“Doesn’t this make you consider the beings who created this place?” she said in wonderment. “What they might have been like?”
“I’ve haven’t really given it any thought.”
She looked surprised. “Really?”
“Really.”
“But given its size, its power, its potential . . . I’d think that they would have crossed your mind at some point. We build spaceships, they build worlds.”
“Frankly, Olympia—may I call you Olympia?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“I haven’t really given much thought to anything but the task at hand. The Forerunners—or whatever they were—aren’t really all that valuable if they’re not practical or useful to our current situation. If there’s value in hard facts about them, then I’m completely there, but if I’m to be really honest, I’ve never been much for imagining anything. And I’ve always considered that one of my strengths.”