第126页

　　In  addition  to  their  battering  attacks,  the  creatures  had  acquired  both  human  and  Covenant  weapons  from  their  victims,  and  these  combat  forms  were  even  more  dangerous  as  a  result.  The  combat  forms  weren’t  the  smartest  foes  he’d  ever  encountered,  but  they  weren’t  mindless  automatons,  either—they  could  operate  machines  and  fire  weapons.
　　Bullets  pinged  from  the  metal  walls,  plasma  fire  stuttered  through  the  air,  and  a  grenade  detonated  as  the  Master  Chief  cleared  the  area,  discovered  a  place  where  some  Marines  had  staged  a  last  stand  on  top  of  a  cargo  container.  He  paused  to  recover  their  dog  tags,  scavenged  some  ammo,  and  kept  on  going.
　　Something  nagged  at  him,  but  what  was  it?  Something  he’d  forgotten?
　　It  came  to  him  all  at  once:  He  had  nearly  forgotten  his  own  name.
　　Keyes,  Jacob.  Captain.  Service  number  01928-19912-JK.
　　The  droning  chant  that  had  lurked  at  the  edge  of  his  awareness  buzzed  more  loudly,  and  he  felt  some  kind  of  pressure—some  sense  of  anger.
　　Why  was  he  angry?
　　No,  somethingelse  was  angry  .  .  .  because  he’d  remembered  his  own  name?
　　Keyes,  Jacob.  Captain.  Service  number  01928-19912-JK.
　　Where  was  he?  How  did  he  get  here?  He  struggled  to  find  the  memory.
　　He  remembered  parts  of  it  now.  There  was  a  dark,  alien  room,  hordes  of  some  terrifying  enemy,  gunfire,  then  a  stabbing  pain  .  .  .
　　They  must  have  captured  him.  That  was  it.  This  might  be  some  new  trick  by  the  enemy.  He’d  give  them  nothing.  He  struggled  to  remember  who  the  enemy  was.
　　He  repeated  the  mantra  in  his  head:  Keyes,  Jacob.  Captain.  Service  number  01928-19912-JK.
　　The  buzzing  pressure  increased.  He  resisted,  though  he  was  unsure  why.  Something  about  the  drone  frightened  him.  The  sense  of  invasion  deepened.
　　Is  this  a  Covenant  trick?he  wondered.  He  tried  to  scream,  “It  won’t  work.  I’ll  never  lead  you  to  Earth,”  but  couldn’t  make  his  mouth  work,  couldn’t  feel  his  own  body.
　　As  the  thought  of  his  home  planet  echoed  through  Keyes’  consciousness,  the  tone  and  tenor  of  the  drone  changed,  as  if  pleased.  He—Keyes,  Jacob.  Captain.  Service  number  01928-19912-JK—was  startled  when  new  images  played  across  his  mind.
　　He  realized,  too  late,  that  something  was  sifting  through  his  mind,  like  a  grave  robber  looting  a  tomb.  He  had  never  felt  so  powerless,  so  afraid  .  .  .
　　His  fear  vanished  in  a  flood  of  emotion  as  he  felt  the  warmth  of  the  first  woman  he’d  ever  kissed  .  .  .
　　He  tried  to  scream  as  the  memory  was  ripped  from  him  and  discarded.
　　Keyes,  Jacob.  Captain.  Service  number  01928-19912-JK.
　　As  each  of  the  fragments  of  his  past  played  out  and  was  sucked  into  the  void,  he  could  feel  the  invader  enveloping  him  like  an  ocean  of  evil.  But,  like  the  pieces  of  flotsam  that  remain  after  a  ship  has  gone  down,  random  pieces  of  himself  remained,  a  sort  of  makeshift  raft  to  which  he  could  momentarily  cling.
　　The  image  of  a  smiling  woman,  a  ball  spiraling  through  the  air,  a  crowded  street,  a  man  with  half  his  face  blown  away,  tickets  to  a  show  he  couldn’t  remember,  the  gentle  sound  of  wind  chimes,  and  the  smell  of  newly  baked  bread.