Hopestar : cp10 : Psyche
Posted By: sam_fisha<sam_fisha@yahoo.com>
Date: 28 April 2005, 12:51 AM
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My eyes eased open, heavy with disturbed sleep. Around me the walls of the room were shrouded in darkness. My feet skidded across the cold floor as I bent down, my fingers groping the ground for something I had dropped.
My hand searched and finally closed around it, a small item. Then the thing was gone, it had never existed and I had never found it. I looked desperately for it, I knew I needed it but didn't know what it was. My hands balled into fists a pounded the floor angrily. Where is it?
Ice shot up my spine and I stood straight up. "All we see is all that is." Said a soft, calming voice. The voice was comforting. The voice was comfort. "I shall meet you where there is no darkness." The voice stopped, and disappeared into the dark shroud that encompassed the area.
Light exploded into my vision, fluorescent figures and dancing shapes twirling before me, strange patterns that moved as I watched them. For one second I saw a face, then an ancient boat, then a different face. Whenever I saw an image it changed, always something new.
"How is he doing?" Goldman questioned, his eyes glaring at the unconscious civilian.
"Well, he should be ready for phase three by tomorrow." Answered the other officer, tapping buttons on a data pad which beeped merrily in response.
"Inform me when he's ready."
The Covenant cruiser accelerated, racing towards the blue pulse which had emanated from the Forerunner ship. "What are you doing?" Miranda asked, watching the thing grow closer.
Cortana didn't respond, completely focused on what she had to do. The large pulse splashed over the ship's shields, dissipating into shreds of light.
"I remember!" I yelled at the voice, frustrated with its ignorance. "The people grabbed me! They talked in some weird language and then they grabbed me!"
"Prove it." Said the voice, sounding extremely professional for such a childish remark.
"The people! They would remember it! They'll tell you it happened!" I stamped my foot on the ground for punctuation, my eyes drifting around the strange room. It seemed to deny some rules I couldn't remember. The place seemed strange and impossible but whenever I questioned something it made sense somehow.
"They are lying. They aren't telling the truth. Just like you." The voice responded quickly, growing strong as it accused him of lying again.
"They aren't! They know it!" I began to scream, trying to reconcile with the voice. "It happened!"
"Prove it." The voice grew to a mocking whine, which still managed to sound like an honorable commanding officer.
"It did happen! I remember it, so it did happen!" Sweat dripped down my face. This simple argument seemed to affect me strongly, challenging my mind more than any problem I had faced.
"So you believe what you remember decides what is? What you remember affects what happened?" The voice said 'happened' strangely, with a stern demeanor.
"N...No... I...I mean that I remember what did happen." I stammered weakly, sensing inescapable philosophical defeat. It felt like my core beliefs were being ripped away bit by bit. I was being ripped away bit by bit.
"And you're saying your memory is perfect? Prove it. What happened on your eighth birthday?" The voice asked calmly, seeming sure of itself.
"I ... I had cake and...Got a rifle from my dad." I wiped my forehead with my sleeve. "I don't remember, that's all. More still happened."
"Prove it." The voice became stern again, reminding me of my old Sergeant when he punished dysfunctional soldiers.
"Ask my dad, ask the other people, they'd all know more of what happened." I began to mumble, the strength in my tongue and lips draining away as I slowly lost the will to fight.
"They would lie. They would all lie. Just as you do. All we see is all that is. Nothing more."
Anger boiled up inside me as I attempted a last effort to defend what I thought was right. What I knew was right. What was right. "There is more! There is more! The undiscovered planets! The wrapped dimensions! The past! There is more!"
"Nothing more." The voice stretched out 'nothing' just long enough to anger me further.
"No! No! No!" I yelled repeatedly, jumping on the ground and flailing my arms. "There is more! There is more!"
"Nothing more... Nothing more...Nothing more..." The voice drove into me, pushing me to the ground and beating every mental defense I could muster.
"There is more." I whimpered, on the verge of wailing like a newborn.
"Nothing more."
"Is he ready?" Goldman asked impatiently, sweat beading on his forehead as he sensed an imminent visit to one.
"Yes, but I'm not sure he won't reject during phase four. He's strong, even if he doesn't look it." The officer responded, handing Goldman a red file, bulging with papers and data pads.
"Move to phase three, and reduce his dosage slightly. I want to speak with him." Goldman said, motioning towards a monitor displaying live video of the captive.
"Of course not sir. I'll start the neural links, he'll be ready in a few hours." The officer smiled politely.
"What?" He asked, hoping to get a half decent answer from the contraption.
"The communication has been interrupted. This is unacceptable." The Monitor turned away, disregarding the captive Spartan.
Seizing his first opportunity the Master Chief bolted upwards, knocking one of the Sentinels into a group of others, creating a tumbling mess of disoriented machines. He ran down the hall way as Sentinel's beams scraped across his shields, which whined in sympathy.
Rounding a corner he dropped to one knee and prepared for the floating machines. Just as one turned the corner he leapt forward, grabbing the Sentinel by its flanges and throwing it into the bulkhead with all the strength he could muster. The instant it impacted it exploded into a dozen large pieces, flying in all directions.
The Master Chief quickly swept up one part, the weapon, and turned to the rest of the flying contraptions, activating the laser as he had long since learned to do. If nothing else... He thought, his shields flaring as he exchanged fire with the attacking Sentinels. I know how to mess up their recycling system.
The Sangheili sat in silence as the Prophet of Honor completed his speech.
Afenraa's claws tapped absently on the table in comprehension. "This is why the holy rings were constructed?" His mandibles clenched tightly, feeling the answer before it came.
"Indeed." Honor hobbled back to his chair, waving away offered assistance from his servants. "And this is what they shall be used for." A groan escaped his thin lips as he sat, feeling his age slowly catch up to him.
Afenraa watched the old Prophet gaze at the Sangheili expectantly, his dark brown eyes unmoving and showing little emotion, like that of a toy. "And when we return?"
"Empty, all of it empty." The Prophet's lip curled into a wicked grin.
"How many will it house?" One of the other dignitaries glanced at the still active screen.
"Everybody. Not a single worthy one will be left behind." The ancient chair creaked as the weight moved slightly in its cradle.
"Very well." The Prophet's grin only grew bigger.
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