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ERIC NYLUND
77
The Master Chief looked around the bridge. There had to be a
way. There was always a way—
He leaned over the edge of the central platform and grabbed
one of the Covenant Engineers that cowered below. He dragged it
up by its float-sack. The creature squirmed and squealed.
"Maybe we don't have the expertise," he said and shook the
Engineer. "But this thing does. Can you communicate with it?
Tell it what we need?"
There was a pause. Then Cortana replied, "There is an exten-
sive communications suite in the Covenant lexic—"
"Just tell it I'm taking it to fix something."
"All right, Chief," Cortana said.
A stream of high-pitched chirps emanated from the bridge
speakers, and the Engineer's six eyes dilated. It stopped squirm-
ing and grabbed hold of the Master Chief with its tentacles.
"It says 'good' and 'hurry,' " Cortana told him.
"Everyone else stay here," the Chief said.
"If you insist," Haverson muttered, his face pale. Blood trick-
led from the wound in his chest.
The Master Chief looked at Johnson and Locklear. "Don't let
the Covenant retake the bridge."
"Not a problem, Chief," Sergeant Johnson said. He stopped to
kick the dead Elite once in the teeth, then slapped a fresh clip
into his MA5B. He yanked the weapon's charge handle, fed a
round into the chamber, and stood at arms. "Those Covenant
sissies are going to have to tango with me before they set one
foot in this room."
On the display two of the Covenant cruisers fired again.
The Chief watched as the plasma raced toward them, fire that
spread across the black of space. "Cortana, buy me some time,"
he said.
"I'll do what I can, Chief," Cortana told him. "But you'd better
move fast. I'm running out of options."
Cortana was annoyed. She had let the Covenant AI—for that's
what this other presence in the system undoubtedly had to be—
trick her. She had gone straight for the simple lockdown of the
NAV systems. She never performed a thorough systems check