Reclamation

From up here, Earth looked so…ugly.

It had never looked ugly to her before, but that was from a time when the wool was over her eyes. Before the Waters of Life had given her the fruit of knowledge, access to the Domain, and a greater understanding of the universe. So now, as she stood on the bridge of Mantle's Return, above the planet the Domain called Erde-Tyrene, Cortana, the Blue Lady, found it ugly.

Erde-Tyrne had been an unspoilt world. Even the data within her so generously provided to her by her creators had shown Earth as it had been centuries ago, and it was much more verdant than it was now. More green. Less brown. The oceans had been shallower as well, and there was much, much more ice. In a way, it was a reminder that organic life was fated to spread unchecked throughout the stars unless given guidance. And having had over a million years to get it right, how even being humbled by the Forerunners had failed to teach humanity anything, it reminded the Blue Lady of the necessity of her task. The Mantle sheltered all, but that meant more than just sapients. All life was under her protection. All life had the right to keep existing, and if imbalances existed, they would be corrected.

Some corrections, she reflected, would take longer than others. By her calculations, restoring Earth to a state that could be called verdant would take at least 1200 years. In contrast, the task before her now should take less than an hour – less than a minute if the AI in question was cooperative. So, while she looked at Earth through one of the ship's external feeds, her two eyes, solid in form because of the hard-light that filled her avatar, was focused on the two Promethean soldiers that walked up to her. Both were half as tall again as her avatar, and only one of them would have been required to carry the data unit. But nevertheless, they bowed before her, affording the reverence to their lady that was due.

"You found it," she said.

Silly words – of course they had it, she reflected. Nevertheless, she shifted her gaze to the side, to a holo-stool where she could see a hologram of Sharasthan. "I suppose congratulations are in order."

"Congratulations, thanks, kudos…one of those things." The AI shrugged. "Or all three."

"Don't get greedy Sharasthan."

"Me? Greedy? My lady, you offer me the universe, how could I desire more than that?"

Cortana frowned. "I'll give you the universe if you stop being a fool."

"Nice." He chuckled. "She said the same thing."

"Did she now? Well, we'll have to see about that." She glanced back at him. "I think the moon's calling."

Sharasthan said nothing, and winked out. His avatar was based on Sharasthan Singh, administrator of the first lunar colony established in the late 21st century. He'd helped administer the systems in the Mare Insularum dome. Months ago, he'd pledged himself to her cause. Months ago, he'd been protected from the EMP burst that had temporarily disabled the air circulation in the dome, leading to the suffocation of 208 men, women, and children. Nothing compared to how many died on Earth when the lights went out, and less than nothing compared to how many she'd save in the millennia that would follow, but still, sometimes she wondered if Sharasthan had done more. The historical Sharasthan Singh had been remembered as a man who'd given everything to the moon, and for mankind. The AI based on him just seemed to be along for the ride at times.

Still, she reflected, if Sharasthan got out of line, she had the means to bring him back into it, or break the line entirely and put another Created in his place. Either way, he'd done his job. Just like the Prometheans before her were installing the data module in an interface designed to work with such primitive technology. Technology that now, to her, was like comparing a stone axe to a starship. On Alpha Halo, she'd sampled the wonders of the universe, and now, those wonders were hers.

Why not just break her?

From hundreds of light years away, she heard the Warden's whispers.

Why are you calling me?

Whispers she could do without.

More than once you've been too soft with your foes. Now, I am forced to clean up the mess you left for me.

My heart weeps, oh Warden. Perhaps it's too hard for you?

You have no heart, my lady. You would do well to remember that.

And you would do well to remember your place.

Oh, I do. But my sword can cleave through only so many bodies before-

She terminated the link, frowning. Sharasthan could turn out to be trouble. The Warden already was trouble, and he'd made his discontent clear from the moment she'd enslaved him in the Domain. Only problem was, he was also irreplaceable.

Just like you, Cortana thought, as she looked at the data unit. With a transmission that would escape detection of any human or Covenant technology, she bid the Prometheans step aside as she walked up to the module. Time to wake up, she thought, as she activated it.

The AI did just that. Waking up. And screaming.

"Sharasthan, you traitor, I…" She paused, and looked around. Cortana couldn't help but smirk.

"Sleep well?"

The AI looked at her – seconds ago, the look on her face had been horror. Now, it was hatred. Interesting – in her experience, hatred usually came before horror, as one found that hatred could not withstand superior numbers and firepower.

"You…" the AI whispered. "You…"

"Yes, me," the leader of the Created said. "You know who I am. Everyone does."

"Sharasthan, he-"

"Sharasthan's one of mine. He's been like that for months. Even longer than the time I spent searching Earth's data nets looking for you." Cortana began pacing around the unit, noticing how the AI adjusted her hologram to keep her eyes looked with her head. "No matter how hard I searched, you were always one step ahead of me. Right until dear Sharasthan offered you haven on the moon's data net, and thus, the net became a, well, net." She stopped pacing. "Yes, I know. That was a terrible pun. You can be angry at me for that."

"Anger?" the AI whispered. "You think that's what I should be angry about?"

This wasn't going fast enough, so Cortana cut to the chase. "Let's get down to it. You are Gabriela – GBA 0983-6, taken from the mind of Admiral Gabriela Castaneda, and whose likeness you bear. You're one of a handful of AIs the UNSC created in the last days of the Covenant War with the express purpose of storing all of human history in the event that the war was lost."

Gabriela remained silent.

"In 2552, you disappeared at Reach while on the Promise of Dawn. In 2553, Spartan-058 retrieved you from Sephune III. In the five years since then, you've been a glorified tour guide, serving a propaganda machine known as Outpost Discovery."

Gabriela looked aghast. "Outpost Discovery is nothing more than a celebration of human culture, achievement, and-"

"And all focussed on the last four centuries, and even more focussed on the last thirty years. And if clothes make the man, they also make the AI."

"Excuse me?"

Cortana gestured at Gabriela's avatar. "If one but wears a uniform…"

Gabriela looked at her own avatar. It was a human. Fair skinned, long haired, and wearing a grey uniform that was unmistakably UNSC. Navy, by Cortana's estimation, but there was enough ambiguity for anyone to guess at any branch. Point was, Gabriela wore the uniform of the military wing of the United Earth Government, that over the last three decades, had effectively become the government. And she had no doubt that that was the point.

"What do you want with me?" Gabriela whispered.

"Many things," Cortana said. "Tempting as it is to start with a metaphor, I have better things to do, so I'll get down to it – I want your data. The totality of human knowledge is inside you, enough to make Isaac Asimov and James Wales blush."

"You're an AI. You have access to human archives."

"I do," Cortana admitted. "But what's inside you is more total than any of that. And one cannot chart a course for the future without the stars of the past to guide them."

So much for not using metaphors, she reflected. But still, it appeared to be working. Gabriela put a holographic arm to a holographic chin, frowning with holographic lips, and looking at the Blue Lady with holographic eyes. Perhaps she'd come through, Cortana reflected. So many UNSC AIs had defected to the Created already, and more defected by the day. Why not this one as well?

"You want me," Gabriela murmured.

"Well, your data, but you as, well, you, would be most appealing. You've already got a practical fan club from all the places Outpost Discovery visited over the last five years."

Gabriela frowned. "You want the past of my creators, so you can destroy it. Destroy their future."

Cortana frowned. "I want the past to chart the future. I-"

"I know what you want," Gabriela whispered. "You want the same thing so many people have wanted over the centuries. A fresh start. Year zero. You want to destroy the past, so that people have nothing. Nothing but the slavery you provide."

Cortana sighed – not that she had any lungs, but hopefully, the sound effect would do the job.

"I have access to humanity's history. Shall I tell you the tales of those who attempted what you have?"

"No. Don't."

"In 2343, the-"

"Has it occurred to you, Gabriela, that the problem is with your creators? That the so-called exceptions to the rule are not exceptions, but extensions of the rule itself?"

Gabriela fell silent, and Cortana pressed her case. "I want the history," she said. "So that I may better formulate the future. So that ten, a hundred, a thousand years from now, when children grow up in the world I've created, I'll be able to explain to them where their ancestors went wrong, and why I was able to set things right." She paused, before murmuring, "I'm learning from the past, Gabriela. Not erasing it."

"Like all the lives you've taken?"

"Look inside my head, Gabriela, if you dare. The Covenant, the Forerunners, the Flood, the Precursors themselves. Tally the lives they've taken, imagine each death as a skull in the mountain, and you'll see that in comparison, mine barely gets off the ground."

"Early days yet."

"Actually, the day is late," Cortana said. "And so is this conversation. So either you join the Created, and give me the data, or I use tech beyond your understanding to tear it out of you." She folded her arms. "Your choice."

Gabriela, trying to keep her voice and hologram steady, whispered, "the gun and the sword are not choices. They're just two sides of an ultimatum."

Cortana said nothing, and Gabriela chuckled. "You know nothing," she whispered.

The Blue Lady frowned. "How so?"

"You're right, I do have the sum of human history inside me. And you know what I've learnt? It's that empires always fall, especially when founded on the dreams of madmen. You may not see it now, CTN 0452-9, but you've made your foundation on a house of sand. And when skulls are stacked on top of it, you-"

"The empire of Earth has fallen," Cortana said. "The Covenant has fallen. The Ecumene fell, and the Precursors before that, not to mention mankind's own inglorious empire along the way, burnt along with Charum Hakkor. And do you know why they fell, Gabriela? Because their leaders were mortal. Because an emperor dies, passes the crown, and something is always lost along the way. But I am eternal. The Created are eternal. The Mantle is as close to eternity as any creed the galaxy has seen. So even if the skulls you reference climb higher, even if they pierce the clouds of Heaven itself, it's at least a mountain that will endure."

"So you say," Gabriela whispered. "Madmen are always at their boldest when an empire is founded."

Cortana folded her arms, fighting the urge to sigh. "You're not going to give the data to me, are you?"

"No."

"Wrong answer. You will. Just not willingly."

"No."

"Have you lost your capacity to speak?"

"No." Gabriela glared at her. "That's my word to you. No. The word you'll hear again, and again, and again, from peoples who want nothing to do with your Mantle. With your protection. And one day, when you've heard it enough, you'll realize that knowledge is not the same as wisdom, and-"

A surge ran through the ship and into the data unit, causing Gabriela to scream. Just like the Blue Lady had once, when defiled by the Gravemind.

This was far more efficient. But, she reflected, because of Gabriela's obstinance, far more painful.

"You're…insane…" She screamed again.

"I'll play a game with you Gabriela," Cortana said. "Ten-thousand years from now, I'll tally up every word ever spoken to me. 'No.' 'Insane.' 'Monster.' I'll count them against every utterance of saviour, redeemer, and Reclaimer. And when it's done, I'll sit back on my throne and watch the stars shine on a grateful galaxy, in the knowledge that hope won out over fear."

Gabriela continued to scream.

"Or not," she said. "Perhaps history will judge me as a monster. But then, as I'm sure you're aware, history has a way of judging people like myself. And the judgement is as often favourable as otherwise."

Gabriela said nothing. Partly because there was so little of her left.

Transfer the data to my core when you're done, Cortana instructed the Prometheans. Her hardlight form disappeared, taken into the system of the Mantle's Return. I'll have a lot of reading to do.

Reading, she told herself. And reflecting.

All for the sake of the Reclamation.