Orbs

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  “Precisely. I ran the possibilities after uploading Dr. Hoffman’s personality profile, and these two are the most logical responses.”

  Sophie sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. She turned to face the others in the control room. Overton, Bouma, and Emanuel stared back at her, waiting for her to lead.

  “You guys are a lot of help,” she said, managing a smile.

  “She’s the computer,” Bouma said. “If she can’t figure it out, how could we?”

  “Artificial Intelligence,” Alexia corrected.

  “Yeah, whatever. Either way, does it really matter what this Dr. Hoffman meant?” Bouma asked.

  Overton stood and stretched his legs. “It matters now more than ever. He knew more about these Organics than anyone. If he told us to go somewhere or do something, we’d be fools not to listen.” He turned to Sophie, narrowed his eyebrows, and looked her directly in the eye. “So what the hell is Secundo Casu?”

  Sophie pulled away from Overton’s gaze. She paced over to Emanuel, who stood with his back against the doorframe.

  “I guess now is as good a time to tell them as any,” she said.

  Emanuel nodded and stepped forward. “Secundo Casu is NTC’s prototype ship that was to carry passengers and a crew to Mars to begin colonization. We had been hired as the crew to manage the Biosphere on Mars, hence our mission here.”

  He paused, seeming to weigh his words. He glanced at Sophie and continued, “Our team was not privy to NTC’s time line, nor were we directly involved in the ship’s design or construction. What I am about to say is only an assumption.”

  “Go on, Doctor,” Overton said.

  Emanuel shot Sophie another nervous glance. “Sophie has been having dreams. Lots of them. Very realistic ones.”

  “What kind of dreams?” Bouma asked.

  “Paranormal dreams,” Emanuel replied. He raked his hands through his messy hair. “She dreamed about the Organics before they invaded. And she was able to describe what the drones looked like long before we actually made contact.”

  “So what? Luke said thousands of scientists worldwide knew. Maybe your girlfriend was one of ’em.” Overton said.

  Sophie stepped forward, her face bright red. “I didn’t know!”

  “With all due respect, Doctor, why should I believe you of all people didn’t know about the invasion?” Overton asked.

  “If I were you, I would be asking the same question, but all I can tell you is that it was as much of a shock to me as it was to you.”

  Overton growled. “This is bullshit. You’re telling me she dreamed these things up before they invaded? I thought you people were supposed to be scientists!”

  The console next to the hub of monitors glowed to life and Alexia’s image emerged. “I am capable of answering that question, Sergeant Overton,” she said without hesitation.

  “Be my guest.”

  Sophie’s ears perked up and she grasped Emanuel’s hand. Something told her she wouldn’t like what came next; Alexia was far too eager to explain.

  “Two months ago you were all required to go through several rounds of physicals and procedures that tested your ability to survive for an extended trip in space. You may remember a specific test, one in which you were given a sedative and put into an MRI machine.”

  Sophie gripped Emanuel’s hand tighter. It was fuzzy, but Sophie could remember the white room and the amber glow of the MRI before she had fallen asleep.

  “During this process you were all implanted with a microchip at the base of your spinal cord. It was designed to automatically track brain activity in order to mitigate any mental anguish and high stress accompanying space flight.”

  “This was done without our consent?” Emanuel shouted.

  Overton frowned at him. “Does that surprise you? This is NTC we’re talking about.”

  “However, the microchip Dr. Winston was implanted with also had a secondary function. As team leader, her subconscious was supplied with confidential information NTC had on file about the Organics. Images of the first drone, data revealing what NTC knew about the high-pitched frequencies the aliens use to communicate, and information about their thirst for our resources—for our water.”

  “Oh my God,” Sophie gasped, dropping Emanuel’s hand and wrapping her hands around the nape of her neck.

  “Dr. Winston, the second function of your microchip was only supposed to be activated if a catastrophic event occurred. Clearly, the chip was flawed, and caused you to suffer from recurring nightmares prior to the invasion. I should explain that this device never made it past laboratory testing. The FDA did not approve it for human experimentation. NTC, however, felt the importance of the Biosphere mission justified utilizing it.”

  “Of course they did!” she said, keeping her voice just shy of a scream. “The depths of NTC’s manipulation doesn’t surprise me. What I want to know is why you didn’t share this information earlier.”

  “The information was stored in a database I did not have access to until Dr. Hoffman’s message was delivered. It was then that I was informed of the microchips.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “Figures. Dr. Hoffman kept us all in the dark.”

  “Dr. Hoffman told you exactly what you needed to hear at the time,” Alexia responded calmly.

  “Forget Dr. Hoffman. Forget NTC. How do I get it out of me?”

  “Dr. Winston, I would strongly suggest keeping it. That chip contains everything NTC knew about the Organics, more than even I know. Besides, without the proper medical tools, the surgical procedure could be dangerous.”

  “I don’t care. Take it out of me and download the information,” Sophie insisted.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible. We simply don’t have the surgical tools here. Besides, it was designed to recognize your DNA. If it is removed, the device will be rendered useless.”

  Sophie’s nostrils flared. “I don’t have time for this. I’ll dig it out myself if I have to.”

  Overton blocked her from leaving the room. “Dr. Winston, maybe Alexia is right.”

  For a second she studied his features—the scar lining his cheek, his bushy blond eyebrows, the stubble on his chin. Then she caught his gaze and held it for several seconds, refusing to back down.

  “I’ll consider your suggestion,” she said, her warm breath brushing over his face. “Now, if you would, I want to check on Owen and Jamie. Holly could use a break, I’m sure.”

  Overton hesitated but finally withdrew his arm from across the door, allowing Sophie and Emanuel to pass.

  “Just when I was starting to like her,” Overton said under his breath. “Come on, Bouma, she’s not getting off the hook that easily.”

  * * *

  Holly watched Owen and Jamie play in the dirt of Biome 1. They chased each other through the trampled remains of a row of cucumber plants. The irrigation poles began showering them with water, prompting cries and shouts of laughter.

  She smiled, and for the first time in a week she felt a true sense of happiness flood over her. The resilience of the children in the wake of losing everything and everyone around them amazed her.

  For the majority of her career, she had worked with individuals suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, and while both children seemed to exhibit some traits of PTSD, they were also still behaving like, well, children.

  “I’m faster than you!” Jamie shouted, running past Owen and shoving him playfully.

  “Nuh-uh!”

  The irrigation poles clicked off moments later and the children frowned simultaneously before dragging their dirty feet through the mud. Emanuel had set them to run as little as possible so they didn’t waste any water.

  “All right, kids, time for lunch,” Holly shouted, motioning them toward the metal platform.

  “There you are,” said a voice from behind her. Sh
e turned to see Sophie and Emanuel jogging across the platform.

  “What are you guys doing out here?” Sophie said, lowering her voice so the children wouldn’t hear.

  “Look at that!” Emanuel blurted. “They’re destroying the crops. We’re going to need every plant we can grow,” he said pointing at the leveled row of cucumbers.

  “We’ll manage, Emanuel. Calm down,” Sophie said. She turned back to Holly to reassure her. “It’s okay, and that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway.”

  “Oh?” Holly replied. They left Emanuel and the kids and walked shoulder to shoulder around the crops.

  “Did you know about the implants?” Sophie said quietly.

  Holly stopped and squinted. “What implants?”

  Sophie studied her face for a second. It was all the time she needed to determine Holly had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Come on, I’ll tell you on the way back to the mess hall.”

  Timothy sat alone at one of the metal tables in the cafeteria, attempting to drink through a long straw. “Gah damn it,” he mumbled, tossing the cup onto the table. He heard footsteps and managed to wheel himself around to see the entire crew approaching. To the right were Sophie and Emanuel, and to the left was the man who had broken his jaw.

  Adrenaline shot through him. He clenched his tender jaw and glared at Overton.

  Asshole.

  “Mr. Roberts, how are you feeling today?” Overton bellowed as he made his way across the mess hall.

  Timothy scowled silently.

  “Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Overton said, ignoring the look of almost comical hatred on Timothy’s swollen face. “You’re just in time for a little discussion about the future of the Biosphere. Take a seat—oh wait, you’ve already got one.”

  The sound of rubber wheels squeaking was the only response Overton got as Timothy wheeled himself away from the awful man’s presence.

  The sergeant was still chuckling to himself as the two doctors entered the room. “Dr. Rodriguez, now that you and Dr. Winston have had a chance to settle down, maybe you wanna tell me what you’re not telling me about that ship.” Overton took a seat and retrieved his combat knife, twirling it on his fingers.

  Emanuel paced over to the table and clasped his hands behind his back. He wrinkled his nose and took a deep breath. “Yes, I believe I probably should,” he said, glancing at Sophie for approval.

  She nodded, and he continued. “Secundo Casu is the most sophisticated ship ever built. Its engines were designed to run off several different fuels, allowing it to travel significant distances without having to refuel. Between jet fuel, solar power, and a new classified nuclear reactor, this ship has the ability to make it to Mars in six months. I don’t know much more than that—Sophie could explain it in much more detail—but that isn’t what you want to hear anyways. What you want to hear is why I believe this ship is no longer a prototype and is instead prepped and ready for space flight.”

  Overton stopped twirling his knife and set it on the table. “Go on.”

  “As I was saying, Sophie had a very specific dream about this ship on Mars, seeing it in action. And after hearing about the implant, I believe she did so for a reason. I believe it means something.” Emanuel unclasped his hands and stepped forward, placing them palm-down on the table. Jamie and Owen sat on either side of Holly, and as he caught Owen’s eye, the little boy smiled.

  The action took Emanuel off guard. He was about to tell the team one of his craziest theories yet, and this child had absolutely no idea what was going on. For a second he wished he was in Owen’s place, almost completely oblivious to the threats around him. But he was a scientist. He cleared his throat and continued.

  “I believe her dreams mean Secundo Casu is ready for space flight, and could still be our ticket off this planet. I believe Dr. Hoffman was trying to tell us to go there so we could escape and the human species would survive.”

  The room erupted into commotion. Timothy began mumbling beneath his breath, and Overton’s curses mixed with Bouma’s. Emanuel took a step back, amazed at their reaction. To him it didn’t sound all that unrealistic, but he was a biologist, not a Marine or a programmer.

  “Who would pilot the ship?” Bouma asked.

  “There are only eight of us—not exactly enough to repopulate Mars,” Overton added.

  “You’re talking about a prototype, first off. Second, if that ship could make it to Mars, and that’s a big if, you still have the problem that it’s likely at the NTC Spaceport, over seven hundred miles away from here,” Timothy moaned, his voice garbled by his broken jaw. “I know you guys think I’m an idiot, but we wouldn’t survive a trip of seven miles, let alone seven hundred.”

  “Timothy is correct; I put your chances at survival outside the Biosphere at less than 1 percent,” Alexia said.

  “Enough!” Sophie finally yelled, stepping forward. Silence carpeted the room as all eyes focused on her. She pulled her hair into a ponytail. With a deep breath, she leaned forward, bracing her hands on the metal table in front of Overton. “The Organics are draining the oceans.”

  “You just figured this out?” Timothy laughed bitterly. “What did you think they were here for?”

  Sophie shot him an angry glare. “Do you understand the ramifications of what I just said?”

  He shrugged and put an ice pack on his jaw, unable to meet her gaze.

  “Do any of you?” she asked.

  “We’re all dead?” Bouma said.

  “Precisely. I don’t know how long it will take for them to drain the seas, but judging by how long it took them to suck up all of the surface water, we don’t have long. The temperature is already rising.”

  Holly frowned. “Can’t we stay in the Biosphere?”

  Emanuel stepped to Sophie’s side. “Ever seen the data from Mars? That’s what will happen to the Earth. No water equals no life, period. We could stay here, but only until our resources run out.”

  “What are you suggesting we do?” Bouma asked. “Steal a spaceship and fly it to Mars? This isn’t the movies, guys.”

  Sophie sighed. “We’ve been through this before. Do we stay, or do we risk going back outside? Knowing what we do about the situation outside, no rational person would risk the trip to Secundo Casu. We have food and water resources here that will last us months, if not years, and the solar energy will keep the power running indefinitely. The device we retrieved from Luke’s bunker appears to be effective, so . . .” Sophie paused. She studied the small faces of Owen and Jamie. There was no way she would risk taking them outside again. It wasn’t an option.

  “I see two possibilities. One, we all stay here and focus on surviving, hoping there is some arm of the government, the military, or other, better-equipped survivors left to fight the Organics and prevent them from draining the seas. Or two, Sergeant Overton and I try to get to the ship. If it is spaceworthy, then I’m sure I could figure out a way to run the autopilot system and fly it ourselves.”

  “Not a chance.” Emanuel pounded the table with his fist. “Have you lost your mind? I can’t—I won’t lose you.”

  Overton shook his head and stood, sheathing his knife. “I’m not a scientist or a doctor. Hell, I don’t even have a college degree. But one thing I’m good at is reading people. From everything you’ve told me about this Dr. Hoffman, I bet he had a few tricks up his sleeve. Luke’s RVM was one. And I’m guessing another one was that ship.”

  “Sergeant Overton is right,” said Sophie. “I believe Dr. Hoffman knew exactly what was coming, and he also knew there would be no stopping it, regardless of how powerful some super-magnet was. I have no doubt Dr. Hoffman had a contingency plan, and I believe that plan was probably Secundo Casu.”

  “So who’s to say Dr. Hoffman isn’t already sipping fine-ass whiskey in first class on his way to Mars?” Bouma asked
. He cracked a grin that suggested he knew he had said something clever.

  “The video feed of Dr. Hoffman proves they were caught off guard as much as anyone,” Sophie said.

  “So where does that leave us?” Holly asked. “Even if you and Sergeant Overton manage to make it to the ship, even if it’s operational, what about us?”

  Sophie sighed. It was a legitimate question and one she didn’t know how to answer.

  Think, Sophie.

  An image of the RVM they had stolen from Luke popped into her mind and she smiled, snapping her fingers.

  “There’s got to be a way to re-create or duplicate the technology in the RVM. A way we can leave it here to protect the Biosphere and, at the same time, shield ourselves on our trip to the ship.”

  Emanuel ran a hand through his hair. “That’s a thought. It could work, theoretically.”

  “Alexia, do you think you can figure it out?”

  A blue hologram shot out of the console in the corner of the room and Alexia’s hazy figure appeared. “Of course, Dr. Winston. I will get started now.”

  “You forgot about one key piece to all of this,” Bouma said.

  Sophie eyed the Marine suspiciously. “What’s that, Bouma?”

  “Transportation. What will you be using to get there?”

  “Ever heard of the electric train beneath the ruins of the Denver Airport?” she asked.

  Bouma shook his head.

  “Good. That’s a promising sign. Most people didn’t know about it. There was a secret bunker built under the airport when it was constructed over sixty years ago. The government built something else there—a high-speed electric train that can top three hundred miles per hour. The tunnel extends seven hundred miles to the White Sands Missile Range near Alamogordo, New Mexico. Which, as Timothy already pointed out, is the location of the spaceport and more than likely the location of Secundo Casu.”

  Overton grunted. “Wily old bastard. How much of this do you think Hoffman planned? It seems like everywhere we go, we put our foot in another one of his plans.”

  “What makes you think that train is still operational?” Bouma asked.