Oblivion, page 8
“It would be a mistake to focus too heavily on the Spartan demons, Most High.” This was the revelation that had come to Nizat earlier—that the humans fought with their hearts and their minds far more effectively than they did with their fleets and their weapons. “The Spartans are but the tip of the infidel spear. To stop the humans from affixing another point, we must break the shaft.”
Regret’s complexion deepened to angry bronze. “Mind your tongue. High Prophets do not make mistakes.”
“So I have been instructed,” Nizat replied. If he was going to die soon—and he was, given the immensity of his failure at Zhoist—he was resolved to make his death worthwhile by speaking truth to those who most needed to hear it. “And that is why I am certain you are wise enough to strike at the fountain of humanity’s strength, rather than the spray.”
Regret’s lips began to writhe, but the Prophet of Truth, who sat to Mercy’s left, spoke first.
“Daring will serve you better in battle than here, Fleetmaster.” Commonly viewed as the most influential of the Hierarchs by those few who had appeared before the trio, Truth was somewhere between the ages of Regret and Mercy, with pinkish skin and tiny nostrils almost hidden beneath a wide nasal fold. “But this ‘fountain of strength’ you speak of . . . what form does it take?”
“None, Most High Grace,” Nizat said. “It is like the Silent Shadow, ever present and seldom seen. The humans call it Oh-nee.”
“Oh-nee?” Truth asked.
“Their abbreviation for what is known as the Office of Naval Intelligence,” Nizat explained. “I learned this from Tel ‘Szatulai, the First Blade who once led the Bloodstars against the Spartan scourge. He described ONI as the crèche of human cunning. It was ONI that masterminded the raid against Zhoist, and ONI that created the Spartans and built their battle armor.”
“He knew this how?” asked Mercy. He glanced at his fellow Hierarchs. “It seems so . . . informed.”
“Prisoner interrogations, Most High, and some demon-armor schematics taken from the infidels.” Nizat did not dare explain that the schematics had actually been given to ‘Szatulai by a band of human traitors hoping to form an alliance with the Covenant. The High Prophets would not look favorably on even speaking with such contemptibles, especially at this very moment. “Much of this information has been confirmed by later events, and none has been contradicted. There is every reason to believe it is all accurate.”
Mercy tipped forward in his throne. “Where are these demon-armor schematics now? Have you delivered them to the Minister of Infidels?”
“I fear that was not possible.” As Nizat spoke, Mercy tipped his throne back into its normal position, seemingly more relieved than disappointed. “I know only what the First Blade reported. His flagship was tethered to the Ring of Mighty Abundance when it fell, and I assume the schematics burned up with the Sacred Whisper in Zhoist’s atmosphere.”
“That is probably for the best,” Mercy said, again glancing to his fellow Hierarchs. “Who knows what manner of blasphemies there may have been in such a document?”
The other two prophets dipped their enormous crowns in agreement—and Nizat was barely able to hide his surprise. Whatever blasphemies the schematics might have harbored, they had certainly contained important intelligence that would have helped the Minister of Infidels comprehend the thinking and capabilities of the humans. Their loss was as great a tragedy as the destruction of the Hammer of Faith—perhaps even as significant as the fall of the Ring of Mighty Abundance.
But it was not Nizat’s place to contemplate the priorities of the High Prophets—only to guide them onto the Path of Victory. He gathered his courage, then pressed ahead with what he expected to be his final recommendation as an officer of the Covenant navy.
“Most High Graces, as I approached High Charity today in the Pious Rampage, I could not help but notice the mighty armada you are preparing to send against the humans.”
“It is a most impressive force,” Regret said. “The largest the galaxy has ever seen.”
Nizat chose to ignore Regret’s sacrilege in claiming supremacy over the fleets of the Forerunners. Surely the Hierarch had misspoken, for no High Prophet would intentionally claim such a thing.
“It is certainly the largest fleet group I have ever seen,” Nizat said carefully. “And it will not be enough.”
Regret’s eyes bulged out so far Nizat thought they might roll down his cheeks. “What?”
“You cannot crush water in your hand,” Nizat said. “You must stop it at its source.”
Truth raised a thin finger to forestall another outburst from Regret, then leaned forward in his throne. “You are talking about this ONI again?”
“Indeed, Most High,” Nizat said. “ONI is the fountain of their cleverness and ingenuity. If you wish to eradicate humanity, you must first eliminate ONI. Otherwise the humans will keep slipping through your fingers, only to return later with even more hellbombs and stealth vessels, more Spartans in more kinds of demon armor, and more weapons, all of them more terrible than the Ministry of Discovery can imagine.”
“A disturbing prospect indeed,” Mercy said. He barely looked at Nizat as he spoke, instead keeping his gaze fixed on the floor between them. “We have started this thing, and now we cannot fail. If we—”
“We cannot fail because the gods are with us,” Truth said, deliberately cutting off Mercy. He turned to Nizat. “But we would be fools to assume our enemies will never challenge us. How many fleets will we need?”
“To destroy ONI?”
“That is your recommendation, is it not?”
“It is, Most High.” Nizat was astonished at the progress he was making. After his experiences with the Minor Minister of Artifact Survey—the young San’Shyuum who had been assigned to Nizat’s fleet to sanctify the cleansing of infidel planets—he had not expected the Hierarchs to listen so well. “But I cannot say how many fleets will be needed until ONI is found.”
“You see?” Regret shot a hand toward Nizat. “He is gulling us.”
Truth continued to watch Nizat. “I trust that is not the case, Fleetmaster.”
“I have no illusions on that score, Most High. I am here only to serve.”
“As I thought,” Truth said. “Then where do we look for this ONI?”
Nizat spread his hands. “Everywhere and nowhere,” he said. “In the spirits that haunt the battlefields. I cannot say.”
“Until we give you another fleet, no doubt.” Regret raised a tridactyl hand and jabbed a crooked finger at Nizat with each word he spoke. “You are trying to save your command with this nonsense, and it is not going to work.”
Nizat paused before answering, reminding himself that such a response was to be expected. The Hierarchs had summoned him to their sanctum not because they hoped to learn from his mistakes, but because they wanted someone to blame.
And the blame was certainly Nizat’s to carry. He had entered the war against the humans as brash and overbold as the Hierarchs themselves, and for that mistake, ONI had taken from him everything he was. All that remained now was the duty to share the hard lessons the humans had taught him—and to help other fleetmasters avoid the same fate.
Finally he said, “I am trying to save nothing but the war, Most High. There are a hundred fleetmasters more capable of destroying ONI than I.”
“But none who have fought them so directly.” Truth was looking at Regret as he spoke. “Experience is not to be dismissed lightly.”
“Nor is losing a fleet, an orbital abundance ring, and two sacred cities!” Regret said. “Some experiences should not be repeated.”
“Which is why we must consider our options carefully,” Truth said. He shifted his throne forward, then stared at Nizat. “But if we cannot find ONI, we cannot destroy it. Would I be mistaken to think you have thought of a way, Fleetmaster?”
Nizat dipped his mandibles. “High Prophets are never mistaken, Most High.” He hesitated, knowing that what he was about to propose was a sacrilege . . . and the only way to find the ONI nerve center. “I have thought of a way, but it is not something that should be considered.”
“Is that not for us to judge, Fleetmaster?” Truth’s tone was growing impatient. “Speak your thoughts and plainly. No harm will come to you because of what you say.”
“As you command.” Nizat took a breath, then said, “We could use Luminal Beacons.”
All three Hierarchs reacted in the same way—by dropping their jaws and staring at him with wide, bulging eyes. Luminal Beacons were among the rarest and most sacred of all Covenant instruments, utilizing Forerunner technology that even the Ministry of Discovery barely understood and could not replicate.
From what Nizat had been told, the tiny Beacons relied on quantum-dot processing machines and integrated sensors to track their own location through gravity-wave analysis and temporal distortion. Of course, many forms of navigation equipment could perform the same task through more understandable methods. What made Luminal Beacons so special was that they used another Forerunner technology, something called quantum entanglement, to instantly relay their locations to reception units held in the Beacon Keeper’s Vault in High Charity.
Regret was the first Hierarch to overcome his shock. “I see now why the gods have turned from you,” he said. “You are more depraved than any human. At least they do not understand their blasphemy.”
“The gods did not destroy my fleet, Most High.” He turned toward Truth, the Hierarch who had urged him to speak freely, then continued, “ONI did—with but a handful of their Spartan demons.”
“Fortune may have favored the demons once,” Regret said. “But it will not favor them every time. Not every fleetmaster is as inept as you.”
“Nor as experienced.” Mercy was looking to Regret as he spoke. “With experience comes wisdom, and a wise commander will avoid battles that a daring one would lose.”
Regret gasped. “You would do this? You would place a sacred Beacon in the hands of humans . . . when just three remain?”
Actually, just two usable Beacons remained, but Nizat had no intention of revealing that to the Prophets. In all the Forerunner ruins ever searched, only four Luminal Beacons had ever been found. Considered holy relics, they were entrusted solely to fleets entering unexplored territory, to be used for a single purpose: to announce the discovery of one of the legendary Sacred Rings required to begin the Great Journey.
One Beacon—the fabled Lost Beacon—had gone missing more than five thousand cycles earlier, when the fleet it was aboard vanished. When Nizat was given the Fleet of Inexorable Obedience, he had been entrusted with two of the remaining three Beacons—an honor that reflected the importance of his mission. Before sending him to eradicate humanity, the Hierarchs had confided to him that they had good reason to believe the secret to finding the Sacred Rings lay in human space. They had carefully avoided revealing the nature of that reason—and he had dared not ask—but it was why they had taken the unusual step of entrusting him with two of the sacred Beacons. And to his ever-enduring shame, one of Nizat’s Beacons had been destroyed when the Almighty Persuasion was obliterated by a human hellbomb during the raid on Zhoist.
That left only two Luminal Beacons available: the one that remained in the Beacon Keeper’s Vault on the Terrace of Illumination, and the one that Tam ‘Lakosee was now holding in the aragonite box outside the Sanctum of the Hierarchs.
The Beacon that Nizat would use to find ONI.
When Regret’s question continued to hang, Nizat saw that Mercy was looking to him, expecting him to answer the objection.
“Forgive me, Most High,” Nizat said, addressing Regret. “But you would not be placing the Beacons in human hands. You would be using them to eradicate humanity.”
“Which is the very task the gods have set before us,” Mercy said, speaking more to Truth than Regret. “Can there be any doubt the gods would look favorably on this use? In all honesty, I would not be surprised if it were their will, the very reason they put the Beacons into our hands.”
Truth stared at Mercy for a few breaths, then finally said, “Who can say what the gods will?” Without awaiting a reply, he turned to Nizat. “I will allow this, but the Beacons must be returned to the Keeper immediately afterward. It would be an unimaginable sacrilege to leave them in human hands.”
“That would never happen, Your Grace,” Nizat said. The unthinkable was about to occur, he realized. The Hierarchs were going to call off the Silent Shadow and assign him another command. “The Beacons will show us the way to ONI’s heart, ONI will fall, and the Beacons will then be back in our hands. The humans will never even know they exist.”
“I hope that is so . . . for your sake.” Mercy turned to Truth and tipped his crown forward. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps this ONI is the reason we were given the Luminal Beacons.”
A rattle of disgust sounded deep in Regret’s throat, and he sank back in his throne. “This is a mistake.”
“High Prophets do not make mistakes,” Truth replied. He turned to Nizat. “Tell us your plan.”
“It is not complicated,” Nizat said. “ONI is eager to capture our technology to learn more about it. At least once already, they have sent a team of demons to attempt a ship capture. And there is reason to believe they used a captured kelguid to find Zhoist.”
“How did they come by that?” Mercy asked, worried again. A kelguid was used to map and navigate common slipspace routes. “Could they use it to find High Charity?”
“They downed an intrusion corvette on a moon of Borodan,” Nizat said, answering Mercy’s first question. “There was time for them to search the wreckage and recover the device before we arrived to cleanse the site.”
“But what of High Charity?” Mercy asked again.
“They would have to know what High Charity is,” Nizat said. “And a kelguid is merely a star chart. There are as many names on it as there are stars, and humans cannot read any of them.”
“And yet, ONI found Zhoist.” Mercy glanced at Truth, then Regret. “Perhaps it is time to relocate High Charity.”
Nizat was not surprised to see the other Hierarchs immediately incline their heads in agreement. If there was anything the San’Shyuum valued more than the Covenant’s mobile capital world, it was their own safety.
“Whatever you use to bait this trap,” Regret said, “I hope it is less dangerous to us than a kelguid.”
“But it must be something tempting,” Truth said. “If we are going to risk a Luminal Beacon, we must be certain ONI will take it back to their innovation temple.”
“There are a great many possibilities,” Nizat said. “And Luminal Beacons are rather small. I am certain we can hide one inside some device that will tempt ONI without endangering us.”
He was glad to see that the Hierarchs grasped his plan. In all likelihood, and as he had promised the San’Shyuum, the Luminal Beacon would never even be detected by the humans. The relic would simply reveal the location of the bait to which it was attached—and, he hoped, that would be somewhere inside ONI’s primary innovation temple, as Truth had noted.
“Would ONI be tempted by a Spike of Obeisance?” Mercy asked. “Or an Omnitab? No great harm would follow from allowing the humans to capture either one.”
“Because the humans already have their own communication nodes and processing devices,” Nizat said. “Were we to hide a Luminal Beacon inside either device, we could not be certain they would find it so valuable they would feel compelled to take it to their innovation temple. We need to choose something they do not have, something of such compelling interest that ONI cannot resist it.”
“You have suggestions?” asked Truth.
“There are two good possibilities, High One. The infidels have no antigravity devices or energy barriers. It is a matter of deciding which device will be more tempting—and also complicated enough to disguise the Beacon’s presence.”
“Why not use both devices and be sure?” Truth asked. “You have two Beacons, do you not?”
Nizat hesitated. After the destruction of the Almighty Persuasion, of course, he now had just one Beacon. It would be a terrible blasphemy to lie to a High Prophet—especially one trying to support him—but to admit the truth was to forsake all hope of destroying ONI and earning redemption. Were the Hierarchs to learn that he had already lost one of the Beacons entrusted to him, they would reject out of hand his plan to risk the other.
When Nizat did not answer quickly, Truth craned his neck in impatience. “Well?”
“An excellent idea, Most High,” Nizat said. “I was merely wondering whether there could be any drawbacks. But now that I have considered—”
“Wait.” Mercy tipped his throne so far toward Nizat that he appeared on the verge of falling out. “You are not answering the Prophet of Truth’s question.”
“A wise observation,” Regret said. He also tipped his throne forward. “You do have both Beacons we entrusted to you, do you not?”
Nizat silently cursed his luck, which now appeared to have run out. He might have been able to dupe Mercy with a steady lie, but never Regret. He had made an enemy of Regret with his initial boldness, and now that Regret’s suspicions had been raised, he would demand confirmation of whatever Nizat claimed.
“I did have two Beacons, Most High,” Nizat said. “But I only need one to lay the trap.”
“But we gave you two,” Regret said, still at the edge of his throne. “Are you telling us . . . that you lost one?”
“No, I did not lose it, Your Grace. The Beacon was aboard the Almighty Persuasion when it was destroyed on Zhoist.” Nizat paused. “I still have the other.”
“I see.” Regret’s tone grew mocking. “You have allowed one Beacon to be destroyed and are asking us to risk another, in some wild scheme to eliminate an enemy we cannot even see. Perhaps you would like us to send for the Lost Beacon, so you can obliterate that one as well?”
“Most High, respectfully, we both know that is not possible.” After the fleet carrying the Lost Beacon had vanished, the Beacon Keeper had activated the receiver unit to track it. The Beacon was currently deep in the core of the galaxy, where the gravity tides and star density were too severe for even the sturdiest Covenant vessel to venture. “But I thank you for the offer.”
