BB existed to protect Earth, and Osman in particular. Part of that protection was to accept that this was how they wished their world to be. Like a soldier, he was the instrument of the elected government, and he couldn’t simply pick the parts he agreed with.

Their choices are what make them human—good or bad. If I take away their choices, I take away their humanity.

In the space of a second, he watched it al , spread across space. Devereaux dropped a connector and swore in Cantonese. Halsey put her head in her hands and cried quietly while she repeated the name Miranda. Phil ips watched Mal loading his ammo pouches, trying to find the right moment to start a conversation. On the ground in Vadam, BB detected a radio signal that connected a ship cal ed Promised Revelation with one of ‘Telcam’s lieutenants, Buran.

He resisted the urge to ride the carrier wave in case the signal was interrupted and he found part of himself stranded again.

“This is Avu Med ‘Telcam,” a voice said.

“Captain, I’ve got him.” BB switched the channel through to Osman. “Go ahead.”

If Osman had any doubts, they didn’t show. She sat back in the seat, confident and in control. “Field Master, thank you for your assistance in recovering Professor Phil ips. Now let me help you out in return.”

BB projected Infinity’s aerial recon image of Vadam onto the viewscreen right in her eye line. The wooded area in front of the Arbiter’s keep was now a solid mass of infantry behind a line of artil ery pieces. Smoke blew back across them, kicking the image into thermal mode to maintain detail, and then one, two, three of them fired, dotting the image with flares of hot light. Explosions peppered the wal s of the keep.

“You offered help before, but I think we’re doing better than we expected … Shipmaster.” Maybe ‘Telcam had someone within earshot. “The Arbiter’s sympathizers seem unwil ing to join the fight.”

“Let me tel you what I can. There’s nothing I can do to prevent this, but your situation’s going to change radical y in the next few hours. What I can do is assist and try to save some of your assets. I don’t know what form that’l take yet, but I’ve got enough firepower and intel to stop this turning into a rout.”

‘Telcam went quiet for a couple of seconds. “Any advice, Shipmaster?”

“How many warships do you have?” Osman didn’t need to ask, because BB snatched the data from Infinity and overlaid it on the viewscreen. It was more a test of ‘Telcam’s honesty. “Not smal vessels—proper warships. And where are they?”

“I have seven frigates and a cruiser. Four of the frigates are deployed to other states, and three are east of Vadam awaiting orders. The cruiser is stil over Ontom. I want to avoid destroying Vadam itself, but if the Arbiter doesn’t surrender, I’l use the ventral beam.”

“You’ve lost one ship, so I’d take good care of the others if I were you.”

“The Arbiter only has a cal on five smal cruisers.”

“Just be ready to change your plan. Take a look at what’s just shown up in high orbit, if your long-range sensors are stil working. Trust me.

Osman out.”

BB shut the link. ‘Telcam real y had leveled with her.

“I don’t believe I said that.” Osman ran her hands over her face. “Trust me. Christ, BB, I wouldn’t, not if I were him.”

“You haven’t actual y stitched him up yet, Captain.”

“So where’s the rest of the fleet gone? I know they’ve lost plenty of hul s one way or another, but is that al they’ve got?”

“No, but it’s al that the keeps are wil ing to commit. Like Earth’s civil wars. In many of them, most people stayed out of it and let two factions slug it out. Most of Sanghelios is probably waiting to see who wins.”

“The more I see, the more I think that Magnusson’s crop kil er project makes sense.”

“Ah, but it’s not the navy way, is it?” BB had a close eye on the decisions being taken on Infinity’s bridge, where Del Rio was waiting for the word to deploy the MAC against the rebels. “I’l update the Admiral.”

“Hood does know we’re here, doesn’t he?”

“Of course, even if he can’t see us.”

“Remind them that we stil have Kilo-Five stuck on the ground.”

Parangosky already had. Del Rio was happy to wait, and the Arbiter hadn’t responded to Hood’s latest message yet. BB watched Devereaux from the aft section safety cam.

“I think they’l be able to move in a couple of hours,” BB said. “But it might end up being a salvage operation once they take off. It’s a good time to mention that to—oh, hang on.” ‘Telcam was trying to make contact. “It’s ‘Telcam again.”

Osman nodded. “Go ahead, Field Master.”

“Osman,” he said. His voice sounded very distracted, very different. And he rarely used her name. “I took your advice. Promised Revelation has just sent me a sensor image, and … when did you acquire that?”

He’d spotted Infinity, then. It was very, very hard not to.

ONIRF TREVELYAN The first lesson that Jul had learned from humans was deceit, and the second was sly patience. Every day, they would chip away at whatever frustrated them, sometimes boldly head on, mostly sneaking up behind it, until it crumbled and gave way.

Every day, then, he would do the same. He felt better this morning. The food was back to the bland menu he’d been given before Magnusson’s inexplicable attempt to make him feel at home, with the exception of the colo meat. He stared at the bowl for a long time before scooping up half a mouthful of food and tasting it without swal owing, ready to spit it out if his instincts told him it was going to make him il again.

It was the food. He knew it was the food. When he’d tried to eat yesterday, the very smel of it had made his stomach churn. But now … he felt fragile, but hungry. He cleared the bowl and waited for that awful cramping and nausea to start again. But after a couple of hours he stil felt wel .

Magnusson rapped at the door. She waited a few moments and then walked in without waiting for a response, accompanied by a guard and Prone to Drift. The Huragok carried the explosive harness.

“Hel o, Jul,” she said. “Do you want to go out for a walk today?”

Jul got the feeling that there was some humorous undercurrent to that at his expense, but it was irrelevant. His plan was crystal izing and he wasn’t going to be distracted. He needed to spend time with the Huragok.

“I do,” he said. “I want to see more Forerunner relics.”

“Wel , there’s enough to keep you busy for years. We haven’t even surveyed five percent of the surface yet.” She gestured to Prone to attach the harness. “By the way, one of our col eagues saw Raia the other day. I hope I pronounced that right.”

Just when Jul thought he final y had the measure of humans and how to deal with their games, one word could cut his legs from under him. He steeled himself not to react or start babbling questions. Magnusson appeared to notice that anyway, because she smiled.

“She was with your friend, Shipmaster Forze,” she said. “I thought you’d like to know.”

She didn’t wait for his reaction. She walked out and the guard stood beside the door, his rifle held on its sling.

I must not be diverted.

She wouldn’t have mentioned Raia unless she thought that her being with Forze would worry me.

And she wouldn’t want to worry me unless she wanted something.

Jul fol owed the Huragok outside and accepted that he was very worried indeed, but that the way to deal with it was to let Magnusson make the next move. Perhaps they’d picked up the information by intercepting communications, nothing more. It didn’t mean anything.

< Where do you want to go today? > Prone asked. < There are entire towns here, empty, waiting for the Forerunners to return. I have been told that they never will. > Jul wondered what the Forerunners would have made of the humans if they had. “Why does it al look so new? Because of the way the sphere suspended time, or the perfection of the technology?”

< Both. > Prone didn’t elaborate. Huragok were devoted in every sense to Forerunner artifacts. They cared about their welfare like other creatures cared about their kin, so it was a strange brief answer to give about the entire focus of their life. Jul was wil ing to invest time in gaining the Huragok’s trust, though, and there was a certain truth in what he’d said: he real y did want to see more of the Forerunners’ legacy. They might not have been gods—and he’d come to terms with the universe having no guiding direction—but they were stil remarkable, and stil able to change the fate of the galaxy even from the grave. Their machines and buildings had a kind of immortality. He would settle for that in lieu of a divine eternity.

Jul had little else to do but walk and explore, but it was an il usory freedom. His eye was caught by an object in the flawless turquoise sky. When he looked up, it wasn’t a bird: it was a smal device, flying under its own power. There seemed to be two kinds, one a gray, featureless cylinder, the other a more intricate metal egg that looked much more like human technology.

“What are those?” he asked.

< Monitoring devices, > Prone said. < They observe and measure. They look for Flood contagion. The ovoids are human surveillance machines. > The more Jul checked the sky, the more he realized that there’d always be something watching him. Between the spy drones and the explosive harness, he was stil in a cage. How many humans were working here? There seemed to be more every day, more uniforms, more instant boxlike buildings, more little vehicles pottering around or skimming the horizon. But Magnusson had said it herself—this was an entire planet, albeit an inverted one, and the humans had only just started exploring it.

If it was a sphere … Jul looked up and down, orienting himself. If it was a sphere with the sun at the center and he was inside it, then space was beneath his feet. He’d thought about this many times at night, unable to sleep, and he reached the same conclusion. The only way out was down.

He carried on walking along the same path he’d taken the day before, planning to walk for a few more hours beyond his previous limit. Why had the humans chosen to locate their camp here when they had a whole world to choose from? He made a mental note of two curved stone towers that dominated the landscape. Prone stayed at his side, silent unless Jul spoke to him.

“What are the towers?”

< Environmental maintenance. The control of atmosphere. The well-being of life within. This is our task. > Jul found that interesting. Could it be sabotaged? That might destroy this whole facility. “Do the humans control it?”

< It is our task. They let us continue our work there. > So sabotage would rely on manipulating Huragok. That was beyond him. The creatures wouldn’t cooperate, and he didn’t have any scientific knowledge to guide him anyway. He dismissed that idea and went back to the next thing available to him, the destruction of the Huragok themselves.

“I’m watched wherever I go,” he said.

< Everyone is. This is for safety.> “Can I be heard?”

< Yes, via your translation receiver. In case you need to call for help.> Jul would have to be much more careful about his line of questioning. What would humans believe most easily about a Sangheili? A little religious fervor.

“I want to know about the Forerunners,” he said. “I need to understand who and what they were. They were—are—our gods. Our lives were centered on them. But now we’re told they were never gods, and everything we believed in and sacrificed was for nothing.”

< What do you want to know? > “Were they like us?”

< Not like you, and not like us. More like humans.> That rankled. Humans always seemed convinced that they were unique and special, not simply one mediocre creature out of many species. “Do you remember them?”

< We remember, because we remember everything, but the memory is not direct. It has been shared many times over the years. > “How many of you does it take to manage this world?”

< All of us. > Jul would have to be more subtle. “I meant are there more towers in other parts of this world.”

< That option exists. > Prone might not have understood the question, or his answer might have contained more information than Jul could grasp. Or he might have simply given an evasive answer because Magnusson or even the Forerunners had told him to. If Jul questioned him more specifical y, then whoever was monitoring him would guess his plans. It was time to change tack.

“What did the Forerunners want from us?”

< Nothing. > The conversation had taken Jul to the bank of a river and much closer to the environmental control towers. The landscape was al gentle hil s and orderly woodland, not rugged wilderness like Sanghelios, the kind of soft, tame terrain that humans liked. It would take him a brisk walk to reach the first tower. There were no guards in sight.

If he could get inside, that was where he’d probably find the other Huragok. If he stil dared think in terms of detonating his harness, a confined space would mean maximum destruction.

But Raia’s still out there. Death should be a last resort. We never admit this even to ourselves, but we’re too afraid to say it aloud: we want to survive.

He could see a huge open doorway, temple-sized. Yes, this would have been cal ed a temple on Sanghelios. How many of the sacred sites there were actual y just warehouses, or barracks, or maintenance areas? This was the problem when trying to read the minds and intentions of gods. It wasn’t possible. The Forerunners probably didn’t even realize they would be distorted into divinity and used as motives for galactic war. They couldn’t have known that their mundane buildings would be declared holy or that devices designed to protect them from a plague would become mystical gateways to eternity. It was al very disappointing. Jul had enjoyed the majesty of the unknown as a boy. The known always fel short.