Orbs II: Stranded

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  Sophie wasn’t prepared for the aggressive way he grabbed her, but she liked it. It made her feel . . .

  Safe.

  The world may have ended outside, but sex was apparently just what they needed to remind themselves there was still something worth fighting for.

  They kissed passionately until Sophie bumped into one of the tables. Next thing she knew, she was pulling herself onto the metal surface and wrapping her legs around Emanuel, who was trying to unfasten his belt.

  “Come on, come on,” he said. Sophie reached down to help him. She laughed; two PhDs between them, and yet they were stymied by a simple belt. Finally it unclicked.

  Emanuel paused to look into Sophie’s eyes. “I love you,” he said.

  Until she met Emanuel, Sophie had never thought that love was something she wanted. She had chosen a demanding career, and she had been happy to devote herself to it. Then Emanuel had come into her life, and for the first time, she had wanted more than a Nobel Prize and tenure. She had wanted love.

  Sophie gently pulled off his glasses. She rested them on the table and then looked back into his brown eyes. “I love you, too.” She kissed him deeply and then growled, “Now come here!”

  * * *

  David stood in the middle of the mess hall looking at his brother for approval.

  “You sure you’re up for this?” Jeff asked.

  David nodded and smiled, “Yeah! Give it to me!”

  Jeff laughed and handed him his old rifle. Standing at David’s side, he helped his little brother look down the sight.

  “You’re not gripping it right,” Jeff said. “Hold it like this.”

  He grabbed the rifle from David, who frowned and looked down at his feet.

  “Are you watching me, bud?”

  “Yes. Here, give it back.”

  Jeff reluctantly handed his little brother the weapon, watching him carefully. He knew the kid could fire it; David had proven that while they were living under White Sands. But he wanted his brother to improve. To become a soldier, like he was becoming.

  “What are you guys doing?” a voice said from behind him.

  Jeff knew the voice; it was the man that had saved him in the lakebed.

  “I’m teaching my brother how to hold a weapon properly.”

  Kiel laughed. He had one of those contagious chuckles that made others laugh. Jeff found himself chuckling at the short marine. He was funny.

  “Looks to me like neither of you knows how to hold it. Give it here,” Kiel said.

  Jeff’s face suddenly turned red. Jeff and his brother were young, sure, but they had survived alone for weeks together. What had Kiel done besides get captured? David hesitated, and looked at Jeff for approval. Finally, Jeff nodded.

  Kiel grabbed the rifle and looked down the stock. “Where the hell did you get this old thing?”

  “It was our dad’s. My grandpa gave it to him, and he handed it down to me,” Jeff said.

  “And you actually killed those things with it?”

  Jeff stuck out his chin defiantly. “Yeah! A ton of Spiders, and I brought down a Sentinel with it, too.”

  “Not gonna lie, that’s pretty impressive. Is that how you guys survived out there for so long?”

  Jeff looked to David. “You want to tell him, little bro?”

  David shook his head. “No, you can.”

  “Well?” Kiel entreated. “Do you guys have some secret cloaking device besides Doctor Rodrigo’s machine?” He laughed and took a seat on one of the benches.

  Jeff didn’t think his newest joke was funny. He didn’t like Emanuel much, but the scientist was doing his best to protect the team.

  “His name is Dr. Emanuel Rodriguez, and no, we didn’t have a cloaking device,” Jeff said.

  Kiel frowned. “Sorry kid. I’m just messing with you. Seriously, though, I want to know about White Sands.” He crossed a leg and picked a piece of food out of his teeth, waiting for Jeff to answer.

  Taking in a short breath Jeff glanced over at David, who looked annoyed. “We were visiting the White Sands military installation where our dad worked. He did everything he could, but . . .” Jeff paused, and then clenched his jaw. “My dad died protecting us. He was killed by the Spiders and so were the NTC soldiers who were left behind. We stayed in the tunnels, where it was easier to hide. Emanuel said we survived because we were too small for the aliens to detect our water weight.”

  “Sorry about your dad,” Kiel said. “But what do you mean you were too small for the aliens to ‘detect’ you?” Kiel said, using his fingers to form quotation marks.

  Jeff shrugged. “Ask Emanuel. He’s the smart guy.”

  Rolling his eyes, Kiel handed the boy his rifle back. “Good job, kid. You have my respect.”

  The words hit Jeff like a gust of wind. He nodded as the man walked away. Maybe the guy wasn’t so bad after all—maybe Kiel could even teach them how to be tough like him.

  Jeff grinned at his brother. “You want to be a marine, bud?”

  “Yeah,” David said, smiling.

  * * *

  Holly and Bouma led Jamie and Owen through the garden biome, picking fresh fruit and vegetables as they navigated their way carefully through the fields. For three days straight, Holly had been babysitting the kids, and she was truly starting to tire of it. On the bright side, though, she finally got her walk with Bouma.

  Holly tried to think of some way to get the kids out of her hair for a few minutes. Finally, she motioned Jamie and Owen over. “See this?” she asked, holding up a strawberry.

  The two children nodded, their small heads bobbing up and down.

  “I want you guys to find as many of these as you can. The one who gets the most will win a prize.”

  “A prize?” Owen asked, his brown eyes growing curious.

  “Yes, a prize,” Holly replied. It was the same trick she’d used before, but she didn’t have to be a psychologist to know that kids could never resist a competition.

  “What kind of prize?” Jamie asked with her hands clasped behind her.

  “You’ll just have to see. Now go find as many strawberries as your baskets will hold!”

  Bouma laughed as the kids took off running. Their small footfalls gradually faded away, and Holly turned to the marine.

  “Alone at last,” she said.

  Bouma cracked a closed-mouth smile, self-conscious of his crooked teeth. “Finally,” he said.

  Holly took his hand in hers, knowing their time together was short. She felt the warmth of his skin, the surprising softness of it.

  “I was worried about you out there. After you guys didn’t come back right away, I thought something had gone wrong,” she said.

  Bouma didn’t reply at first. Finally he said, “Honestly, I wasn’t sure we were going to make it. Things are awful outside. . . .” He paused and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to go back. I will if Overton orders it, but if I had the choice, I wouldn’t leave the Biosphere ever again.”

  Dropping his hand, Holly wrapped her arms around his solid midsection. Bouma let out a tiny oompf before returning her embrace.

  She looked up at him. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course,” replied Bouma.

  “It’s about Sophie and Overton. I’m worried about them. Between Sophie’s dreams and the stress of her position, she seems to be losing her edge. And Overton appears to be experiencing the same thing.”

  Bouma loosened his grip on Holly. “Yeah . . . I’ve seen it, too. But it’s not my place to say anything. Unless Overton goes completely nuts, I really can’t do much. Besides, he’s a good man. Despite what you all probably think of him, he does care about you all, not just his own men.”

  “I know. When Sophie hired me, she knew I could help the team deal with stress. But frankly, this situation fall
s outside the scope of my training.” Holly bit her lip. “I mean, I know what I’m supposed to be doing, but how do you convince everyone that things are going to be okay when you believe that they won’t?”

  Bouma pulled her closer so their faces were only inches away from each other. “Holly . . .” Her eyes were downcast and he nudged her chin up with a finger. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. And I promise I’ll keep an eye on Overton. You have my word,” he said, inching even closer.

  Holly froze. She hadn’t been this close to a man in as long as she could remember. And when he leaned in to kiss her, she almost pulled away. The kiss started off at an awkward angle, but Holly tilted her head to make up for it. Too soon, a voice exploded from the rows of cornstalks.

  “Look how many I found!” Owen said.

  Holly and Bouma jumped apart, but it was too late. Owen had already seen them. “What are you guys doing?”

  Holly crouched down and looked in Owen’s basket. “Wow, you found a lot.” She looked up to see how many Jamie had collected, but the girl hadn’t returned. “Where’s Jamie?”

  Owen turned around, looking for his partner in crime. “I don’t know; she was right behind me.”

  The girl burst through the cornstalks not a second later, holding a basket full to the brim with bright red strawberries. She looked over at Owen’s basket and then back at her own. “Looks like I win!” she beamed, her cheeks the same color as the fruit. “What’s my prize?”

  Holly smiled. “You get to eat them.”

  Jamie frowned. “Hey! That’s not fair.”

  The smile on Holly’s face faded, and she reached down to touch Jamie on the cheek. “I know, and I’m sorry. But life isn’t fair, Jamie. What happened outside isn’t fair. And we need to appreciate what we have left—what is given to us.”

  Bouma reached out for her hand again, and this time she didn’t let go.

  CHAPTER 23

  ALEX gripped the railing overlooking the cargo bay. Below, the Ghost of Atlantis was filled with three state-of-the-art helicopter gunships, a half dozen Humvees, and two dune buggies equipped with NTC’s latest hydrogen engines. Alex recognized the carbon-fiber tubing snaking out from under the belly of the small vehicles. They ran off a mixture of hydrogen and solar power, much like many of the modern cars and trucks. Before the invasion, he had wanted one of the hydro cars, but his bank account was too dry for the fantasy to go anywhere beyond window-shopping.

  “This way,” a young, balding NTC officer said, motioning the tour forward.

  Alex followed the rest of the group down a metal ladder leading into the cargo bay. He was surrounded by a handful of Chinese officers who had boarded the sub. The tour was a crash course in the GOA, but Alex knew that the Chinese probably had no idea what they were looking at. They’d been underwater for years, and the technology of the GOA made the X-9 look like an antique.

  As Alex looked around him, he was once again reminded that he was completely out of place. Captain Noble had insisted that he become familiar with the sub, as it was going to be his home for the indefinite future. The thought was difficult for Alex to accept. For the past few days, he had been thinking a lot about the outside. His friends, his family, everyone he had left behind. Frankly, he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to live in this new world. What was the point?

  The NTC tour guide distracted him from his thoughts as he explained the contents of the cargo bay.

  “That’s the Sea Serpent and her sisters, Snake Eyes and Eagle 2. They’re NTC’s latest weapons of mass destruction,” the bald man said, pointing to the helicopters. “When we surface, a ramp can be deployed to help move the aircraft into position so that the helicopters can leave the GOA while it is partially submerged.”

  The Chinese officers looked at the gunships and vehicles, their expressions emotionless. After serving for a decade on the same ship, the crew had probably grown used to the monotony of their cramped quarters. Some of them probably saw fresh air only when the sub would surface to resupply. Which probably wasn’t very often, considering how long it had stayed hidden. Alex shuddered; he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life on a craft like this. The submarine’s thick metal walls had already become oppressive to him, and the stale air made him feel as if he were drowning all over again. He took a breath and tried to push the feeling back down inside him. He had to.

  “Wait up,” a voice said as Alex followed the rest of the tour down a ladder. He turned to see Captain Noble running down the narrow hallway connecting to the cargo bay. “Seen enough yet?”

  Alex smiled half-heartedly. “Yeah, I think I’m good. Those helicopter gunships are pretty amazing, though.”

  “They better be. NTC spent twenty billion on the research, design, and construction.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  The man looked back at him, his bearded face giving away no hints of a lie.

  “Damn,” Alex finally said. “Think you’ll get to use one?”

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow. He knew whatever Noble was going to say couldn’t be good.

  “Captain Quan and I have decided to surface for recon. Instead of docking and going ashore, we’ll be taking one of those out. Is there anything you saw out there that might help us? Anything you haven’t told me yet?”

  Alex wanted to tell him he was crazy, that the men and women who took off in the gunship would never return. They were all going to die. Instead, he shook his head and said, “I’ve already told you all I know.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Alex lay on his hard bed, one of his feet dangling over the side. It was the most comfortable place he had slept since he left the Biosphere at Edwards. He even had an extra coat of Vaseline on his lips. All around him he could hear the familiar noises of human engineering. But for some reason, he still didn’t feel safe.

  His mind turned each and every noise into something else. The clanks coming from the hallway were Spiders dragging their claws across the floor. The humming vibrating through the metal walls was a drone hunting the landscape for him. And those chirps were Worms belching human prisoners into the sky.

  He wanted to scream, to claw the memories from his head. But there was no shutting them off. Nothing, not even the GOA, could protect him from his own mind.

  With his head still pounding, he closed his eyes and sucked in a breath through his nostrils. The pain slowly diminished, but he could still feel every heartbeat pulsing in his temples. Alex knew what he really needed now was a good night’s sleep.

  As soon as he closed his eyes, they snapped back open. He could hear them again. He could hear them coming!

  Scratch, scrape, scratch, scrape.

  Alex sat up so fast he nearly hit his head on the ceiling. Scrambling across the bed, he cowered in the corner of the bunk and put his hands over his ears. He knew it wasn’t possible for a Spider to be on the ship. It was all in his head.

  Wasn’t it?

  He closed his eyes and thought of his sister. A week ago he’d still had a glimmer of hope that maybe Maria had survived, but not anymore, not after seeing what it was like outside. And even if she had somehow survived, she would have been herded into one of the Organics’ human farms.

  He could almost see her face staring back at him from inside one of the orbs, a look of terror spread across her features. He could see her mouth moving as she screamed, but couldn’t hear her voice.

  Alex smashed his head into the wall. He had to make the nightmare stop. Had to get the images out of his mind.

  Scratch, scrape, scratch . . .

  Cupping his ears, Alex let out a scream and jumped off the bed.

  Where was the sound coming from?

  He wasn’t about to wait to find out. Barefoot, he rushed across the cold metal floor and burst into the hallway. A
man in red coveralls threw up his hands and backed against the wall. “Watch it, man!”

  “Sorry,” Alex replied. But he wasn’t paying attention. He was running, his eyes darting across the shadows. Around every turn he braced himself, flinching, expecting a Spider to tear into his soft flesh.

  He froze when he neared the next bulkhead. Above, a bank of red emergency lights flickered. A siren’s wail rang out a second later.

  “All hands to your stations. All hands to your stations,” Irene’s voice repeated over the com.

  Alex felt the submarine turn sharply to the right. He tried to brace himself against the wall but stumbled and fell to his knees. Terror took him over like a virus. Shimmering reds and yellows swam across his consciousness. He started hyperventilating.

  Forcing himself off the ground, he stumbled along the hallway, his hands clawing at the walls desperately. The sub jerked again and he slid across the metal floor.

  When the boat righted itself, he found his balance and rounded the next corner at full speed.

  Two minutes later he was standing outside the CIC, shoeless, sockless, and gasping for breath.

  NTC officers in black uniforms rushed about. Some of them carried tablets, while others simply jumped from station to station, monitoring the information feeding through the blue screens. They all wore the same anxious look. Noble was standing in the midst of it all, his iron-red beard concealing his expression.

  “What’s going on?” Alex panted from the doorway. The NTC guard he had seen earlier held up a hand.

  “I can’t permit you to enter,” he said, his voice muffled from the breathing apparatus.

  “It’s okay. Let him in,” Captain Noble replied.

  Alex scurried past the guard and made his way to Noble’s station. “What the hell is going on?”

  The alarm continued to screech in the background, mixing with shouts from NTC officers and sporadic chirps from their stations. The room reeked of chaos.

  And then it all shut off, like someone had flipped a switch. Alex followed the gaze of the other crew members toward the front of the room, where a blurry image crept across the main screen.