Part 9 (1/2)

A bolt of blue heat blasted from the claw. The blast was similar to the plasma that had hit theCommonwealth . . . and boiled a third of it away. Sam dove forward and knocked John out of the blast's path; the energy burst caught Sam in the side. . . . and boiled a third of it away. Sam dove forward and knocked John out of the blast's path; the energy burst caught Sam in the side.

The reflective coating of his MJOLNIR armor flared. He fell clutching his side, but still managed to fire his weapon. John and Kelly rolled on their backs and sprayed gunfire at the creature. Bullets peppered the alien-each one bounced and ricocheted off the energy s.h.i.+eld. John glanced at his ammo counter-half gone.

”Keep firing,” he ordered. The alien kept up a stream of answering fire-energy blasts hammered into Sam, who fell to the deck, his weapon empty.

John charged forward and slammed his foot into the alien's s.h.i.+eld and knocked it out of line. He jammed the barrel of his rifle into the alien's screeching mouth and squeezed the trigger. The armor-piercing rounds punctured the alien and spattered the back wall with blood and bits of bone.

John rose and helped Sam up.

”I'm okay,” Sam said, holding his side and grimacing. ”Just a little singed.” The reflective coating on his armor was blackened. ”You sure?” Sam waved him away. John paused over the remaining bits of the alien. He spotted a glint of metal, an armguard, and he picked it up. He tapped one of three b.u.t.tons on the device, but nothing happened. He strapped in onto his forearm. Dr. Halsey might find it useful. They entered the room. The large window was a half-meter thick. It overlooked a large chamber that descended three decks. A cylinder ran the length of the chamber and red light pulsed along its length, like a liquid slos.h.i.+ng back and forth.

Under the window, on their side, rested a smooth angled surface-perhaps a control panel? On its surface were tiny symbols: glowing green dots, bars, and squares. ”That's got to be the source of the radiation,” Kelly said, and pointed to the chamber beyond. ”Their reactor . . . or maybe a weapons system.”

Another alien marched near the cylinder. It spotted John. A silver s.h.i.+mmer appeared around it. It screeched and wobbled in alarm, then scrambled for cover.

”Trouble,” John said. ”I've got an idea.” Sam limped forward. ”Hand me those warheads.” John did as he asked, so did Kelly. ”We shoot out that window, set the timers on the warheads, and toss them down there. That should start the party.”

”Let's do it before they call in reinforcements,” John said. They turned and fired at the crystal. It crackled, splintered, then shattered. ”Toss those warheads,” Sam said, ”and let's get out of here.” John set the timers. ”Three minutes,” he said. ”That'll give us just enough time to get topside and get away.”

He turned to Sam. ”You'll have to stay and hold them off. That's an order.” ”What are you talking about?” Kelly said. ”Sam knows.” Sam nodded. ”I think I can hold them off that long.” He looked at John and then Kelly. He turned and showed them the burn in the side of his suit. There was a hole the size of his fist, and beneath that, the skin was blackened and cracked. He smiled, but his teeth were gritted in pain. ”That's nothing,” Kelly said. ”We'll get you patched up in no time. Once we get back-” Her mouth slowly dropped open.

”Exactly,” Sam whispered. ”Getting back is going to be a problem for me.”

”The hole.” John reached out to touch it. ”We don't have any way to seal it.”

Kelly shook her head.

”If I step off this boat, I'm dead from the decompression,” Sam said, and shrugged.

”No,” Kelly growled. ”No-everyone gets out alive. We don't leave teammates behind.”

”He has his orders,” John told Kelly.

”You've got to leave me,” Sam said softly to Kelly. ”And don't tell me you'll give me your suit. It took those techs on Damascus fifteen minutes to fit us. I wouldn't even know where to start to unzip this thing.” John looked to the deck. The Chief had told him he'd have to send men to their deaths. He didn't tell him it would feel like this.

”Don't waste time talking,” Sam said. ”Our new friends aren't going to wait for us while we figure this out.” He started the timers. ”There. It's decided.” A three-minute countdown appeared in the corner of their heads-up displays. ”Now-get going, you two.”

John clasped Sam's hand and squeezed it.

Kelly hesitated, then saluted.

John turned and grabbed her arm. ”Come on, Spartan. Don't look back.”

The truth was, it was John who didn't dare look back. If he had, he would have stayed with Sam. Better to die with a friend than leave him behind. But as much as he wanted to fight and die alongside his friend, he had to set an example for the rest of the Spartans-and live to fight another day.

John and Kelly pushed the pressure doors shut behind them. ”Good-bye,” he whispered. The countdown timer ticked the seconds off inexorably.

2:35 . . .

They ran down the corridor, popped the seal on the outer door-the atmosphere vented.

1:05 . . .

They climbed up through the twisted metal canyon that the MAC round had torn through the hull.

0:33 . . .

”There,” John said, and pointed to the base of a charged pulse laser. They crawled toward it, waited as the glow built to a lethal charge.

0:12 . . .

They crouched and held onto one another. The laser fired. The heat blistered John's back. They pushed off with all their strength, multiplied through the MJOLNIR armor.

0:00.

The s.h.i.+eld parted and they cleared the s.h.i.+p, hurtling into the blackness.

The Covenant s.h.i.+p shuddered. Flashes of red appeared inside the hole-then a gout of fire rose and ballooned, but curled downward as it hit and rebounded off their own s.h.i.+eld. The plasma spread along the length of their vessel. The s.h.i.+eld s.h.i.+mmered and rippled silver-holding the destructive force inside.

Metal glowed and melted. The pulse laser turrets absorbed into the hull. The hull blistered, bubbled, and boiled. The s.h.i.+eld finally gave-the s.h.i.+p exploded.

Kelly clung to John. A thousand molten fragments hurled past them, cooling from white to orange to red and then disappearing into the dark of the night.

Sam's death had shown them that the Covenant were not invincible. They could be beaten. At a high cost, however. John finally understood what the Chief had meant-the difference between a life wasted and a life spent. John also knew that humanity had a fighting chance . . . and he was ready to go to war.

SECTION III SIGMA OCTa.n.u.s.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

0000 Hours, July 17, 2552 (Military Calendar) / UNSC Remote Scanning OutpostArchimedes , on the edge of the Sigma Octa.n.u.s Star System , on the edge of the Sigma Octa.n.u.s Star System Ensign William Lovell scratched his head, yawned, and sat down at his duty station. The wraparound view screen warmed to his presence.

”Good morning, Ensign Lovell,” the computer said. ”Morning, s.e.xy,” he said. It had been months since the Ensign had seen a real woman-the cold female voice of the computer was the closest thing he was getting to a date.

”Voiceprint match,” the computer confirmed. ”Please enter pa.s.sword.” He typed: ThereOncewasAgirl The Ensign had never taken his duty too seriously. Maybe that's why he only made it through his second year at the Academy. And maybe that's why he had been onArchimedes station for the last year, stuck with third s.h.i.+ft. But that suited him fine. ”Please reenter pa.s.sword.” station for the last year, stuck with third s.h.i.+ft. But that suited him fine. ”Please reenter pa.s.sword.”

He typed more carefully this time:ThereOnceWasAGirl . After first contact with the Covenant, he had almost been conscripted straight out of school; instead, he had actually volunteered. . After first contact with the Covenant, he had almost been conscripted straight out of school; instead, he had actually volunteered.

Admiral Cole had defeated the Covenant at Harvest in 2531. His victory was publicized on every vid and holo throughout the Inner and Outer Colonies and all the way to Earth.

That's why Lovell didn't try to dodge the enlistment officers. He had thought he'd watch a few battles from the bridge of a destroyer, fire a few missiles, rack up the victories, and be promoted to Captain within a year.

His excellent grades gave him instant admission to OCS on Luna.

There was one small detail, however, the UNSC propaganda machine had left out of their broadcasts: Cole had won only because he outnumbered the Covenant three to one . . . and even then, he had lost two-thirds of his fleet.