Chapter 3: And You Thought Your Day Was Bad?
She knew she would find him here.
Cortana watched from a distance as John stood on the outskirts of New Momosa. The damage to the city had been severe; the closest working holotank was several hundred yards away from the Chief's position. She had no doubt he was thinking about those who had paid the ultimate sacrifice in the fight against the Covenant. Johnson, Captain Keyes, Doctor Halsey and a handful of Spartans -including most of Noble Team-had managed to survive everything that had happened since the attack on Reach, but there were millions of people who hadn't been so lucky.
He stood rigidly at the ruins, paying his silent respect to those who had paid the ultimate price. Cortana was content to let him grieve without interruption; she wasn't particularly eager to share Halsey's assessment with John.
She had always known her life was going to be pitifully short compared to her human counterparts. The Gravemind had constantly taunted her with that reality, that weakness, knowing there was nothing she could do about it. Not even she, with her vast intellect, could figure out a way to counteract her fate. Cortana had managed to make a temporary peace with her mortality on that damned ship, when she thought John wasn't coming back to her and the only satisfaction she had was knowing that the knowledge of the index would die with her.
But then, John had come and she had felt a false burst of life run through her. She had foolishly allowed herself to believe that the presence of one human, her human, would allow her to circumvent her fate. The pressing demands to activate the Index, combined with her relief that John did, in fact, keep his promise to her, had distracted her enough to ignore what was an undeniable fact: she was rampant.
Now that she was back on Earth, she couldn't hide from the reality of the facts. Halsey had pulled up the latest analysis on her matrix. She was dying.
She knew Halsey's plan was a long shot at best and that, more than likely, her trip to Reach would be her last mission. As the threat of nearly uncontrollable thoughts bombarded her data pathways-Why should I be the one who dies after three years? I have more knowledge in my core processes than most humans learn in a century. I deserve to live longer. Halsey should have never given me the emotions-, Cortana forced herself to push the unwanted, and unproductive, thoughts away.
She had been instrumental in keeping humanity safe from the Covenant and the Flood. She had completed her primary objective she reminded herself. She had lived a good life.
Then why I am so bitter?
Her thoughts were interrupted when her sensors detected movement: John was coming.
She knew exactly when he noticed her. He began walking 3.9 percent faster, his heart rate elevated slightly, his serotonin levels had spiked. He was, according to Cortana's analysis, glad to see her.
It was too bad that his happiness wouldn't last, Cortana thought with a slight frown.
He slowed down as he approached the holotank, tilting his head slightly to the right.
He wanted to know why she was here.
"We need to talk, John." She knew the rare use of his first name would immediately put him on alert. As expected, his adrenaline levels spiked.
"What is it?" There were no traces of joy in his voice.
There would be no easy way to tell him. Cortana knew he would take her death as hard as he had his Spartan brothers and sisters.
She sat down, bending the light so it seemed as if her legs were swinging over the edge of the holotank. "You know that smart AI's have a rather...short lifespan. That the average length a smart AI is functional is seven years."
"Yes." She could almost hear him mentally calculating how much time he thought she had left to live.
She swung her legs and frowned slightly. "Sometimes, though, an AI's life can be significantly shorter. If she accumulates a large amount of data from a Forerunner structure or devours information from a ten thousand year parasite, then her lifespan becomes a fraction of that."
"How much time do you have?"
She shouldn't have been surprised at his direct question. She recognized that tone of voice; he was preparing himself for the bad news.
I'm so sorry for hurting you, John.
No sooner than she had thought it, she resented thinking it. Why was she apologizing to him? He left her in the control center on the Halo ring. He left her on High Charity. He should have known what all that data was going to do to her neutral pathways.
He knelt down in front of her, allowing her to see her distorted image in his visor's reflection. "Cortana?"
It was his concern tinged with fear that pulled her back from the edge of Jealous thoughts. If she was going to make it through the Reach mission, she needed to control her emotions. Immediately, she spun off a subroutine that would limit her emotional output.
Instantaneously, she felt the low-key sensation that she often associated with being in a system with a limited power supply. Her emotions were still there, she noted, but they were much less distracting than they were before. Perhaps her final mission would be a success after all.
She looked up at John who was still waiting for her response. She drew in a long breath before speaking. "According to Doctor Halsey's projections, if my systems remain in their current state, Reach will be my last mission."
He stiffened at her words. "What do you say?"
A faint smile danced across her lips. They had come far in their relationship if he was willing to listen to Cortana over the doctor. "I agree with her analysis." She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. "I should have been dead, Chief. When I was on High Charity..."
He didn't let her finish her thought. "How do we reverse the process?"
Cortana smiled wryly. Only a Spartan would look at an impossible situation and attempt to find a solution. "Doctor Halsey has an idea, but I'm not as optimistic as she is about its success."
"But there is a chance."
She nodded. "A small one."
"That's enough."
She looked at him wistfully. "Not all of us have an uncanny luck about them, Chief."
Chapter 4: Anger Management: Spartan Style