Eighteen: Promise the Girl

'The Jiralhanae will not come, Commander.'

[I suppose that saves us the trouble of getting them to work together with the Sangheili. Will not or cannot?]

'Both, it seems,' Gramlek answered, 'General Lydus has united some of his people, but his grasp is currently tenuous. It's unlikely he'll be able to solidify his hold before the Flood arrives, but we have alerted them to the danger just the same.'

[And the Kig-Yar?]

'A few have stepped forward,' Elenasto reported, 'but most of them see no profit in this and so have declined to be a part of the "advance army."'

[Mm. The Sangheili themselves are still debating. A few powerful kaidons have pledged their support, but fewer than I'd like.] John padded out onto a covered stone terrace on one of the uppermost levels of the keep. [I don't want to rely entirely on the UNSC and Parallel's support for this. How about the others? Gultanr, Lituni, Adonte? Hell, even the Lekgolo.]

'Actually, some Lekgolo colonies have joined us,' L'Toress piped up, 'and not just the ones in Venera's Scarab. We're refitting some of the guns for them, to free up Lady Cortana.'

[And Mgalekgolo. We'll need them to repel boarders.]

'The Gultanr are with us,' Ferial added in, 'but the Adonte are still debating, and no one's been able to get ahold of the Lituni.'

[Keep trying. And the rest of you?]

'Still en route to Maethrillian, Commander, ETA one Earth hour, but the Metarchy informs us that it has successfully opened a Portal to the Lesser Ark.

[Any debris coming through?]

'Nothing yet.'

[Well that's something. Keep me posted.]

'Aye, sir.'

The Spartan heaved an enormous sigh and leaned against the stone banister ringing the edge of the terrace.

"You think there will be any assassination attempts while you're here?"

John turned. Cortana had rejoined him at last. She had gone on a brief tour of the keep, given by one of the Arbiter's relatives, so that she could learn more about the Sangheili directly from the Sangheili. "I doubt it," he answered, embracing her when she moved close enough, "The Covenant was broken with the battle of Sunaion – its adherents don't have the might to make an attempt. Many of them have surrendered, and thrown themselves on the Arbiter's mercies, including Jul 'Mdama."

"Has he shown them any?" They both looked out over the mountain, and the city at its foot.

"Some. I'm not sure what Arbiter's going to do about 'Mdama, though, but bost have been stripped of their lands and titles, if they had any, but they're still alive."

The AI snorted. "I imagine the UNSC would like to do the same to me," she said bitterly, "but I don't have anything for them to take, except my life."

"Let me worry about the UNSC."

"I don't want you to take the fall for me," she insisted, "I don't want you or the fleet to be punished for something I did - or what they think I did."

"And we won't," John replied, gently gripping her forearms, "HIGHCOM knows by now that we won't let them take you back for termination. With as important as you are to us – to me – it would be tantamount to an act of war." He brushed her hair out of her face. "We're already buying the SPARTAN-II Program – we'll settle on this, too."

She buried her face in his chest. "I can't believe you're keeping me."

The Commander rested his chin on her head. "Sometimes, in the Parallel, the thought of you was all that kept me from going mad and killing everyone. The UNSC can insert memories into the brains of flash clones, and the Forerunners embedded entire personalities and histories in human DNA. That made me doubt that this world - the people I knew, the places I'd been - were real.

"All but you. I couldn't have imagined the feel of you in my neural lace, your subroutines running in the background of my mind. There's nothing exactly like it, and I thought, even if it's just for your sake, I had to hold on. I had to believe." He tilted his head so his cheek was pressed against the crown of her head. In a whisper, the Spartan continued, "You died, and I thought I was dying. I'm not letting you go, not again. We go together."

She chuckled a little. "Are we making a suicide pact or something?"

"Hardly," John answered dryly, "I would have to destroy my Infected to a man for that. Nearly impossible, at this point. Not happening. Just… don't go where I can't follow."

Cortana closed her eyes with a sigh.

In the distance, a storm was rolling in. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, and the winds were beginning to rise. It promised to be quite severe, and a number of Sangheili were leaving now, taking off before it arrived at Vadam Keep. A firm breeze smelling of petrichor swept between the pillars supporting the roof over the terrace and stirred their hair.

"John?"

Both of them looked up.

It was Catherine Halsey.

'Oh shit.'

[Settle.] "Doctor Halsey," John acknowledged, lifting his head but not dropping his embrace as Cortana pressed a little closer to him, "I was unaware you were still on Sanghelios. I thought you went back to Earth with the Infinity."

"I was injured during the Battle of Sunaion," she answered, taking a few steps closer and studying the couple, "too injured for space travel, so I remained here."

"And now it seems we're all grounded, at least for the time being," he said, glancing at the oncoming storm.

'An ill omen.'

[I thought Forerunners didn't have superstitions.]

'We don't, but you humans do. You can't deny it's ominous.'

The Spartan turned back to the scientist. "Is there something we can help you with?"

"Who is this?" she asked, dropping her gaze to the AI in his arms.

John glanced down at Cortana. [She doesn't recognize you?]

'She expects an AI,' was her reply, 'not a human.'

[Then it's up to you if we tell her.]

Cortana sighed and stepped back from the Spartan's embrace, turning fully to face her mother. The scientist's eyes widened a little at the sight of a virtual replica of her younger self standing before her, her eyes the exact same shade of blue as Cortana's avatar (and that was what John felt was his greatest triumph in building her a body). "Hello, Mother," said the AI.

"I'm curious to know how you survived, Cortana."

The AI met her creator's gaze. "The Composer used a Slipspace event to transmit the people of New Phoenix to the Composer's Abyss on Installation Zero-Three," she answered, "When John detonated the warhead and destroyed the Mantle's Approach, a lot of it was pulled into the event, and myself with it. The Domain is in Slipspace, as near as we can tell, and that's how I gained access to it."

"I see…" Halsey was clearly wary of the AI, despite the fact that Cortana had been cured of rampancy twisting her processes. Or perhaps she was more wary of herself; the AI had been created from a matrix of her own mind, after all. "May I speak-"

John frowned abruptly, and turned to look over the edge of the balcony. Both sets of twins were just below them, clinging to the mountainside despite the steep drop. "So much for being on your best behavior."

"We're your bodyguards, Commander! We're supposed to protect you, but we wanted to give you some privacy!"

"So you decided to scale a mountain rather than stand at the door like normal people?"

"We got permission!" They climbed up the rest of the way and hopped over the railing to stand beside the Spartan and AI.

He pursed his lips affectionately, if such a thing was possible, and ignored Cortana's muffled giggles. "You all are very, very strange."

"Says the Spartan who became a Gravemind and Infected a bunch of aliens!" One of the Veneras planted her hands on her hips.

The Commander huffed a sigh. "Give us a minute, would you?" He looked at Cortana, too.

She shot a glance at her creator, then stepped forward to give her Spartan a hug. He returned the embrace. "The Arbiter says he's found a room for us, since the storm looks like it's going to last until tomorrow morning," said the AI, "I'll go check it out, let you know where it is."

"See you soon." As she departed, John silently signaled for one set of twins to go with her, protect her. They nodded, and both sets left the terrace. "What is it, Doctor?"

"You kept her?" Halsey demanded in an undertone, stepping closer to minimize the likelihood that they would be overheard, "After all that's happened?"

"I think we can both agree it's very difficult to resist the Enemy Flood. And it wasn't her encouraging the AIs to rebel."

"But that means she's vulnerable to it!" the scientist hissed, "It could take her again! I can provide you with another matrix if it's a Cortana model you want-"

"Cortana is not replaceable," John replied, his tone brooking no argument, "and she's not vulnerable, not anymore. Not now that she's with us. We won't let the Enemy Gravemind have her again."

Spartan and scientist stared at one another. "Why do you still trust her?" the doctor asked, "She failed you, and killed thousands of people."

"She failed no one," John answered, "A Forerunner ancilla was mimicking her data signature, and she did her best to get in contact with me and escape. As for the deaths-" He snorted softly. "Haven't I done worse?"

"The Covenant were our enemies," Halsey began.

"That doesn't change the fact that the people I killed were their families, their friends, their kindred. You think they forgive me for that?"

"You didn't turn on your own people."

"Except now the UNSC thinks I have, apparently, because I'm not coming back to serve." He rolled his eyes.

"You're not?" Halsey was visibly taken aback.

"No. I'm not letting ONI get anywhere near my genetic makeup." The Chief folded his arms, leaned back against the stone railing. "After this is over, we might reform the Galactic Council, if enough people are for it. Try to negotiate a peace between the UNSC and the rest of the former Covenant, maybe, or at least get them to settle down, stop attacking. That should be easier now that Sali 'Nyon's dead and Jul 'Mdama's surrendered.

"Even if they do need more training, you have the Spartan-IVs now. The UNSC doesn't really need us or the reminder of our dubiously ethical history."

"It's not the same."

"We'll still be hanging around, but our responsibility is to the galaxy as a whole now."

"You're taking up the Mantle?"

"I think we've seen that that is a universally Bad Idea." John shook his head. "Like I told the Warden, of the three known longest-lived political entities in the galaxy – the Precursors, the Forerunners, and the Fleet of Shadows – who, out of all of them, has never taken up the Mantle? And who, out of all of them, is still here?" He looked back at the scientist. "When you conscripted us, you told us that we had been called upon to serve. And we are, just not the UNSC anymore.

"Or, rather, not only the UNSC."

-------------------------------------------

"Sangheili beds are surprisingly comfortable," Cortana said from where she was sitting cross-legged on the edge of one, bouncing a little.

John leaned against the doorframe and smiled at her. "'Surprisingly?' They have to sleep like everyone else."

"I know, but given that they're a warrior culture, I thought they'd be a bit more…"

"Military? Spartan?"

"Now who's making puns?" Cortana laid back on the bed with a sigh.

The Chief moved to sit next to her and began running his fingers through her hair. "You're worried again."

"Is it that obvious?" She turned her head to look at him.

"Only to someone who's worried about you."

The AI let out a shaky sigh. "I don't want to face the Flood again," she whispered, rolling so that she was closer to him, "I'm afraid that I'll get too close, and it'll take me again."

"You know we won't let that happen. You know I won't let that happen."

She looked away. "I heard you talking with Doctor Halsey."

"Of course you did," John sighed, "What about it?"

"Promise me you'll terminate me before you let the Flood take me."

John jolted sharply. Of all the things he had expected her to say, that was not one of them. "Cortana-"

"Promise me."

He met her gaze, saw her determination. If he didn't do it, she would find someone else who would. She wasn't going to let the Flood consume her again. At last, he said, "I promise."

********

Total word count: 73 397