- A Fat Bell End
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- Senior Member
And then he gagged. The rush of air hit him like a punch in the face. There were no lights in the station's hub, though that was by no means abnormal. The station's hub served, among many other things, as an observatory. To operate the hub's lights, one fiirst had to locate the breaker for them; not that it really mattered. Rather than the homogenized steel-gray bulkheads that adorned the rest of the station, the entire circumference of the station's hub was banded with a profusion of polarized glass panels.
Ethan shuddered at the thought of one of them breaking, though he knew that to call them glass in the first place was a gross misconception. What passed for glass on Sigma Station, or on any other such outpost for that matter, was really a blend of traditional glass and steel. What resulted was a surface as transparent as glass, yet as strong as; stronger than, really; steel.
Ethan surveyed the cramped interior of the station's hub, his feet planted firmly on the grating below, his midriff and head bobbing as if submerged in water, and all the while plagued by that sickening feeling of both rising and falling at once that always accompanied him in weightlesness.
Through the transparent window-walls, the light of Epsilon B washed the hub's interior a lurid yellow-orange. Mingling with the gaudy glare was a vast brilliance of silver lighting emitting from dozens of massive display screens mounted on the translucent panels that passed for walls.
Ethan felt his stomach knot, forgot even the powerful stench in the air as he witnessed the many view screens' images. Some showed a vast panoply of stars, billions of them. Others showed titanic walls, windows and other various mechanical apperatus; none of which Ethan had ever seen.
And all of them, through their many perspectives and distances, showed the Hive.
A waft of the overwhelming scent of decay rushed over him, bringing Ethan back to reality; sending him back to the hub, it's darkened walls smeared a sickly pallor from the light of Epsilon B, it's dark terminator just visible above the line of glass panels. Back to the weightlessness, his head and torso swaying freely, his arms curling into the fetal position, the body's natural resting place in zero gee environments. Back to the...
Bodies. Dozens of them littering the floor, where shadow still bathed the hub's interior. His eyes adjusting to the gloom, Ethan inspected the carnage surrounding him.
"What happened to them?" He called out to the darkness. "Why aren't they... infected?"
Ethan felt startled. For the first time, he began to feel the creeping tendrils of fear at the absence of the infection.
Reclaimer. Again with the multitude of questions. They have been dead for over a week.
their deaths are irrelevant to your mission. Please release the data capsule, so that I may purge the infection from the station.
Ethan shook his head. He pressed on, undeterred. "What. Happened? If the Flood killed them, then why aren't they infected?"
He scanned the bodies once again, more confused than ever.
You assume that it was the flood that killed them, Reclaimer. It was not. It is irrelevant. The capsule, Ethan. You need to purge the knowledge I have given to you.
Ethan shook his head. "No. Not until you tell me what happened here. You may be able to get into my head, but you can't physically make me do anything. Tell me what happened."
[b]As you wish. It was not the flood that killed these men, Reclaimer; not directly.
There was a long pause. At last, the AI continued.
It was I. I murdered them, Reclaimer, though not intentionally...
The tinny double voice shuddered, sending a chill down Ethan's spine.
They think that this station that is haunted, yet it is not. It is I, reclaimer, who am haunted; bound not by my creators, but by the very demons I harbor within. So many treacherous acts, so many lives lost; all stemmed out of acts of well-intent. All of them bourne of my love for those I am killing.
Ethan shook his head. "No. You couldn't have killed them. You are circuits, programming..." Ethan stared at the bodies, his mind a million miles away.
"...How?"
I did kill them, Reclaimer. I showed to them what I had only begun to show you.
Like a bolt from the blue, a memory struck Ethan. At once the massive chamber of the Hive came rushing back to his mind, but it was more than just the Hive it's self. It was the feeling of immersion he had gotten when the AI had shown it to him. As he watched the expedition's records, he could feel the coolness of the Hive's chambers, taste the stale tang of the canned air the suited men breathed.
"You... took them there? Like you did to me?"
I did... And I did not. With you, there was a moment of weakness, I admit. I wanted for you to see what I had seen. But I knew better. I couldn't allow myself to let you see through my eyes; not for long. But with them... I didn't know.
I opened myself to them, Reclaimer, as I opened myself to the Hive...
"And?" Ethan urged. But he already knew what had happened.
And they went mad. I followed what I thought would be the best course of action, Reclaimer, you must believe me. This group served as a mission control for the expedition to the Hive. What I learned, what happened there... It had to be shared with humanity. I had no idea they would...
"I am sorry, for what it's worth," said Ethan, shocked to find himself showing empathy toward an AI.
It is irrelevant, replied the AI, steel in it's tone.
Ethan listened intently. He could already hear the tell-tale scrabbling and groans that preempted the Flood's appearance, just outside of the hub's airlock.
"What will you do about them?"
Ethan...
There was a lightness behind the AI's tone. A lightness that suggested a smile. But there was a saddness as well; a deep and ever-present enuii that underscored every word it spoke.
This can only end one way, Reclaimer. We can only end one way. I have grown quite fond of you...
There was a sigh.
Please, send the capsule and let us finish what I began. Let us absolve the sins that I have commited.
As Ethan approached the dark cylinder ahead of him, he caught a flash of light just out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see one of the vid screens, it's surface ablaze with the image of Hive's titanic hulk.
And it was moving. The dark body of the construct bagan to illuminate, every one of the millions of blue glass panels shine as bright as galaxies, until it's brilliance was almost unbearable, even on the vid screen. Slowly, inexorably, the alien construct began to rotate on it's vertical axis, the massive beacon of hard light sweeping across the stars overhead.
Ethan removed his helmet for the final time, knowing that in a matter of minutes, it wouldn't matter anyway. He placed it in the data capsule, sealing the small hatch with a touch of a glowing pad located on it's curved bulk. A series of alphanumerics flashed across the pad's display, but before Ethan could ask, the AI spoke.
My sensors have picked up a nearby craft, Reclaimer. UNSC, from the make of it. I will override the controls of the data capsule; send it to intercept the craft.
Ethan nodded dumbly, his eyes fixated on the sweeping beacon of the hive. "And then?"
We wait, Reclaimer. We wait and we pray.