On the remaining aft camera, there were flickers of light—the cold blue strobes of Covenant energyweapons, and the red-orange fireballs of the Longswords’ missiles.
“Launch the missile,” the Captain said.
“Meltdown in ten seconds.”
“Missile away.”
A plume of exhaust divided the darkness of space.
“Five seconds to meltdown,” the ops officer said. “Four, three, two—”
“Shunt drive plasma to space,” the Captain ordered. “Cut power to all systems.”
The Covenant ship was silhouetted for a split second by pure white—then the view screen snapped off.The bridge lights went dead.
John could see everything, though. The bridge officers, Dr. Halsey as she clutched onto the railing, andCaptain Wallace as he stood and saluted the pilots he had just sent to die.
The hull of theCommonwealth rumbled and pinged as the shock wave enveloped them. It grew louder, asubsonic roar that shook John to his bones.
The noise seemed to go on forever in the darkness. It faded . . . then it was completely silent.
“Power us back up,” the Captain said. “Slowly. Give me ten percent from the reactors if we canmanage.”
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The bridge lights came on, dimly, but they worked.
“Report,” the Captain ordered.
“All sensors offline,” the op officer said. “Resetting backup computer. Hang on. Scanning now. Lots ofdebris. It’s hot back there. All Longsword interceptors vaporized.” He looked up, the color drained fromhis face. “Covenant ship . . . intact, sir.”
“No,” the Captain said, and made a fist.
“It’s moving off, though,” the op officer said with a visible sigh of relief. “Very slowly.”
“What does it take to destroy one of those things?” the Captain whispered.
“We don’t know if our weaponscan destroy them,” Dr. Halsey said. “But at least we know we can slowthem down.”
The Captain stood straighter. “Best speed to the Damascus testing facility. We will execute a flyby orbit,and then proceed to a point twenty million kilometers distant to make repairs.”
“Captain?” Dr. Halsey said. “A flyby?”
“I have orders to get you to the facility and retrieve whatever Section Three has stowed there, ma’am.As we fly by, a dropship will take you and your—” He glanced at John. “—crew planet side. If theCovenant ship returns, we will be the bait to lure them away.”
“I understand, Captain.”
“We’ll rendezvous in orbit no later than 1900 hours.”
Dr. Halsey turned to John. “We need to hurry. We don’t have much time—and there is a great deal Ineed to show the Spartans.”
“Yes, ma’am,” John said. He took a long look at the bridge, and hoped he never had to return.
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1845 Hours, November 27, 2525 (Military Calendar) / UNSC Damascus Materials Testing Facility,planetChi Ceti 4
How far down was the testing facility? John and the other Spartans had been confined to a freightelevator for fifteen minutes, and the entire time it had been rapidly descending into the depths of ChiCeti 4.
The last place John wanted to be was in another confined space.
The doors finally slid open, and they emerged in what appeared to be a well-lit hangar. The far end hadan obstacle course set up with walls, trenches, dummy targets, and barbed wire.
Three technicians and at least a dozen AI figures were busy in the center of the room. John had seen AIsbefore—one at a time. Déjà had once told the Spartans that there were technical reasons why AIscouldn’t be in the same place at the same time, but here were many ghostly figures: a mermaid, asamurai warrior, and one made entirely of bright light with comets trailing in her wake.
Dr. Halsey cleared her throat. The technicians turned—the AIs vanished.
John had been so focused on the holograms that he hadn’t noticed the forty Plexiglas mannequins set upin rows. On each was a suit of armor.
The armor reminded John of the exoskeletons he had seen during training, but much less bulky, morecompact. He stepped closer to one and saw that the suit actually had many layers; the outer layerreflected the overhead lights with a faint green-gold iridescence. It covered the groin, outer thighs,knees, shins, chest, shoulders, and forearms. There was a helmet and an integrated power pack—muchsmaller than standard Marine “battery sacks.” Underneath were intermeshed layers of matte-black metal.
“Project MJOLNIR,” Dr. Halsey said. She snapped her fingers and an exploded holographic schematicof the armor appeared next to her.
“The armor’s shell is a multilayer alloy of remarkable strength. We recently added a refractive coating todisperse incoming energy weapon attacks—to counter our new enemies.” She pointed inside theschematic. “Each battlesuit also has a gel-filled layer to regulate temperature; this layer can reactivelychange in density. Against the skin of the operator, there is a moisture-absorbing cloth suit, andbiomonitors that constantly adjust the suit’s temperature and fit. There’s also an onboard computer that
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interfaces with your standard-issue neural implant.”
She gestured and the schematic collapsed so that it only displayed the outer layers. As the imagechanged, John glimpsed veinlike microcapillaries, a dense sandwich of optical crystal, a circulatingpump, even what looked like a miniature fusion cell in the backpack.
“Most importantly,” Dr. Halsey said, “the armor’s inner structure is composed of a new reactive metalliquid crystal. It is amorphous, yet fractally scales and amplifies force. In simplified terms, the armordoubles the wearer’s strength, and enhances the reaction speed of a normal human by a factor of five.”
She waved her hand through the hologram. “There is one problem, however. This system is so reactivethat our previous tests with unaugmented volunteers ended in—” She searched for right word. “—failure.” She nodded to one of the technicians.
A flat video appeared in the air. It showed a Marine officer, a Lieutenant, being fitted with theMJOLNIR armor. “Power is on,” someone said from offscreen. “Move your right arm, please.”
The soldier’s arm blurred forward with incredible speed. The Marine’s stoic expression collapsed intoshock, surprise, and pain as his arm shattered. He convulsed—shuddered and screamed. As he jerked inpain John could hear the sounds of bones breaking.
The man’s own agony-induced spasms were killing him.
Halsey waved the video away. “Normal humans don’t have the reaction time or strength required todrive this system,” she explained. “You do. Your enhanced musculature and the metal and ceramiclayers that have been bonded to your skeletonshould be enough to allow you to harness the armor’spower. There has been . . . insufficient computer modeling, however. There will be some risk. You’llhave to move very slowly and deliberately until you get a feel for the armor and how it works. It cannotbe powered down, nor can the response be scaled back. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the Spartans answered.
“Questions?”
John raised his hand. “When do we get to try them, Doctor?”
“Right now,” she said. “Volunteers?”
Every Spartan raised a hand.
Dr. Halsey allowed herself a tiny smile. She surveyed them, and finally, she turned to John.
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“You’ve always been lucky, John,” she said. “Let’s go.”
He stepped forward. The technicians fitted him as the others watched and the pieces of the MJOLNIRsystem were assembled around his body. It was like a giant three-dimensional puzzle.
“Please breathe normally,” Dr. Halsey told him, “but otherwise remain absolutely still.”
John held himself as motionless as he could. The armor shifted and melded to the contours of his form.It was like a second skin . . . and much lighter than he had thought it would be. It heated, then cooled—then matched the temperature of his body. If he closed his eyes, he wouldn’t have known he wasencased.
They set the helmet over his head.
Health monitors, motion sensors, suit status indicators pulsed into life. A targeting reticle flickered onthe heads-up display.
“Everyone move back,” Halsey ordered.
The Spartans—from their expressions, they were concerned for him, but still intensely curious—cleareda ring with a radius of three meters around him.
“Listen carefully to me, John,” Dr. Halsey said. “I just want you to think, and only think, about movingyour arm up to chest level. Stay relaxed.”
He willed his arm to move, and his hand and forearm sprang forward to chest level. The slightest motiontranslated his thought to motion at lightning speed. It had been so fast—if he hadn’t been attached to hisarm, he might have missed that it had happened at all.
The Spartans gasped.
Sam applauded. Even lightning-fast Kelly seemed impressed.
Dr. Halsey slowly coached John through the basics of walking and gradually built up the speed andcomplexity of his motions. After fifteen minutes he could walk, run, and jump almost without thinkingof the difference between suit motion and normal motion.
“Petty Officer, run through the obstacle course,” Dr. Halsey said. “We will proceed to fit the otherSpartans. We don’t have a great deal of time left.”
John snapped a salute without thinking. His hand bounced off his helmet and a dull ache throbbed in his
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hand. His wrist would be bruised. If his bones hadn’t been reinforced, he knew they would have beenpulverized.
“Carefully, Petty Officer. Very carefully, please.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
John focused his mind on motion. He leaped over a three-meter-high wall. He punched at concretetargets—shattering them. He threw knives, sinking them up to their hafts into target dummies. He slidunder barbed wire as bullets zinged over his head. He stood, and let the rounds deflect off the armor. Tohis amazement, he actually dodged one or two of the rounds.
Soon the other Spartans joined him on the course. Everyone ran awkwardly through the obstacles,though they had no coordination. John expressed his worries to Dr. Halsey. “It will come to you soonenough. You’ve already received some subliminal training during your last cryo sleep—” Dr. Halseytold them, “—now all you need is time to get used to the suits.”
More worrisome to John was the realization that they’d have to learn how to work together all overagain. Their usual hand signals were too exaggerated now—a slight wave or tremble translated into full-force punches or uncontrolled vibrations. They would have to use the COM channels for the time being.
As soon as he thought of this, his suit tagged and monitored the other MJOLNIR suits. Their standard-issue UNSC neural chip—implanted in every UNSC soldier at induction—identified friendly soldiersand displayed them on their helmet HUDs. But this was different—all he had to do was concentrate onthem, and a secure COM channel opened. It was extremely efficient.
And much to his relief, after drilling for thirty minutes, the Spartans had recovered all of their originalgroup coordination, and more.
On one level, John moved the suit and, in return, it moved him. On another level, however,communication with his squad was so easy and natural, he could move and direct them as if they werean extension of his body.
Over the hangar’s speakers, the Spartans heard Dr. Halsey’s voice: “Spartans, so far so good. If anyoneis experiencing difficulties with the suit or its controls, please report in.”
“I think I’m in love,” Sam replied. “Oh—sorry, ma’am. I didn’t think that was an open channel.”
“Flawless amplification of speed and power,” Kelly said. “It’s like I’ve been training in this suit foryears.”
“Do we get to keep them?” John asked.
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“You’re the only ones who can use them, Petty Officer. Who else could we give them to? We—” Atechnician handed her a headset. “One moment, please. Report, Captain.”
Captain Wallace’s voice broke over the COM channels. “We have contact with the Covenant ship,ma’am. Extreme range. Their Slipspace engines must still be damaged. They are moving toward us vianormal space.”
“Your repair status?” she asked.
“Long-range communications inoperable. Slipstream generators offline. MAC system destroyed. Wehave two fusion missiles and twenty Archer missile pods intact. Armor plating is at twenty percent.”There was a long hiss of static. “If you need more time . . . I can try and draw them away.”
“No, Captain,” she replied, and carefully scrutinized John and the other armored Spartans. “We’re goingto have to fight them . . . and this time we have to win.”
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
2037 Hours, November 27, 2525 (Military Calendar) /In orbit over Chi Ceti 4
John piloted the Pelican through the exit burn of their orbital path, then sent the ship toward the lastknown position of theCommonwealth . The frigate had moved ten million kilometers in-system fromtheir rendezvous point.
Dr. Halsey sat in the copilot’s seat, fidgeting with her space suit. In the aft compartment were theSpartans, the three technicians from the Damascus facility, and a dozen spare MJOLNIR suits.
Missing, however, were the AIs John had seen when they had first arrived. All Dr. Halsey had time to dowas remove their memory processor cubes. It was a tremendous waste to leave such expensiveequipment behind.
Dr. Halsey examined the ship’s short-range detection gear, then said, “Captain Wallace may be trying touse Chi Ceti’s magnetic field to deflect the Covenant’s plasma weapon. Try and catch up, Petty Officer.”
“Yes, ma’am.” John pushed the engines to 100 percent.
“Covenant ship to port,” she said, “three million kilometers and closing on theCommonwealth .”
John bumped up the magnification onscreen and spotted the ship. The alien vessel’s hull was bent at athirty-degree angle from the impact of the MAC heavy round, but it still moved at almost twice thespeed of theCommonwealth .
“Doctor,” John asked, “does the MJOLNIR armor operate in vacuum?”
“Of course,” she replied. “It was one of our first design considerations. The suit can recycle air forninety minutes. It’s shielded against radiation and EMP as well.”
He then spoke to Sam over his COM link. “What kind of missiles is this bird carrying?”
“Wait one, sir,”Sam replied. His voice returned a moment later. “We have two rocket pods with sixteenHE Anvil-IIs each.”
“I want you to assemble a team and go EVA. Remove those warheads from the wing pods.”
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“I’m on it,”Sam said.
