Noble nodded. “I agree. The likelihood of other survivors is slim, but worth checking out.”
Sophie heard laughter from the hallway and turned just in time to see Owen race by, with Jamie close on his heels. Against all odds, the two children had survived outside.
“Our AI did confirm that the distress signal from Offutt had been activated very recently. Maybe someone has managed a miracle and avoided detection,” Emanuel said.
“Nothing gets past Alexia,” Sophie smiled. It was an odd sensation, her lips forming something other than a frown. She was starting to feel a bit better knowing they were building a plan, even if it did sound irrational.
“So what’s the next step?” Emanuel asked.
Noble cupped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair.
“I’d suggest sending a drone to Offutt to see what’s there. The sooner we know, the sooner we can develop a plan, and if by some grace of God there are survivors, then perhaps they will join us.”
“How fast can you get a drone into the field?” Sophie asked.
“Richards,” Noble shouted, craning his head.
“Sir?” a voice said in the background.
“Send a message to Engineering. I want a drone prepped and ready to fly ASAP.” When he turned back to the feed, there was something about his face that bothered Sophie. The man she had met at Cheyenne Mountain was a fearless leader; a man, like Overton, who radiated confidence. That man was no longer in front of her. Noble seemed solemn and tired.
Broken.
“I didn’t want to give you bad news,” Noble finally said. He returned his hands to the table and hunched over his desk. Creases broke across his forehead. “We found the Chinese sub. A rescue mission was able to save some of her crew, but in the end I ordered the X-9 destroyed. Sergeant Harrington, whom you met while we repaired the Sea Serpent at the Biosphere, was killed in the mission.”
The news did not shock Sophie as much as she thought it would. While she knew that losing another weapon of war was not to be taken lightly, she also knew that death was now a routine part of life. Having hope was dangerous when all could be lost in the blink of an eye.
Sophie exchanged looks with Emanuel. Gray speckled his slicked-back hair, and a thick beard covered his dimples. He looked as if he had aged years in the last two months. She’d purposely avoided mirrors for the same reason. Her body felt weak, and her clothes no longer hugged her curves; instead, they hung loosely off her body. They’d been stranded for quite a while now, cut off from the rest of the dying world. But the worst of it? She didn’t just feel trapped by the Biosphere walls, she felt trapped inside her own mind.
“Doctor Winston,” came a voice. It sounded distant, far away. There was a humming, like wasps.
Someone called her name again. Sophie blinked hard, the echoing in her ears faded, and she turned to see Emanuel hovering over her. He reached out and placed a hand on her right wrist. Her skin tingled at his touch. She realized then that he hadn’t touched her since Overton had caught them in the CIC weeks earlier.
He squeezed harder, but she felt only a cold numbness.
“Sophie,” he said. “Snap out of it.”
She nodded and swept her eyes over the monitors, her eyes glazed and blurry. In a monotone voice she said, “Let’s plan on talking again in forty-eight hours. That should give you enough time to send a drone to Offutt and analyze any intel. In the meantime, we will continue to use Lolo for reconnaissance and inform you of any developments.”
“Sounds good, Doctor. Stay safe,” Noble replied.
“You too,” she said, swiping the feed off with her index finger. As soon as she stood a wave of dizziness hit her. She swayed to the left and then the right.
Emanuel reached out to balance her. “What’s going on with you?”
The sensation passed, and Sophie’s world returned to normal. “I’m fine.”
“No. You seem really off.”
Sophie put a hand on her head. She had so much to do, and she hadn’t put a dent in the data Lolo had sent.
“Hey, you there?” Emanuel asked, waving his hands. “Sophie, what is going on with you?” His voice was calm but guarded.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “Just tired.” For a moment she locked eyes with him and felt a sensation that she’d long buried. The emotion soon vanished, stripped away by the thousands of worries clamoring for attention in her mind.
“Where is the old Sophie?” he asked with a frown.
She looked away. She knew the answer deep down, but she couldn’t let Emanuel know—the old Sophie had died inside that black ship.
* * *
Corporal Bouma stood two full heads taller than Jeff, but every morning the boy seemed to be closing the gap. It was possible, considering the vegetables and fruits harvested from Biome 1 were better than anything the kid would have been eating on the outside even before the invasion. Over the past decade food production had become so automated that it was all full of God knew what. Only those wealthy enough could afford the small organic supply. None of that mattered anymore. The only farms that remained were human farms.
He steadied his rifle and took aim at a black target on the opposite wall, the anger boiling inside him at the thought of humans being harvested just outside these walls. In quick succession, he fired off three shots. The deafening crack of the old rifle echoed through the chamber. The gun was louder and more powerful than he had thought.
“Damn. Nice shot,” Jeff said.
He’d hit the middle of the target in two places, while the third shot had torn into the wall above.
“Give me that thing,” Kiel shouted. He propped one of his crutches against the wall and reached for the gun.
Bouma glared at the other marine. “Wait your turn. Jeff’s next.” With a smile, he handed the rifle to the eleven-year-old. “See if you can beat that,” he whispered as the boy grabbed the gun.
“I want a turn, too!” David whined.
Bouma laughed. He’d promised Sophie that he wouldn’t train the other kids. They weren’t that desperate, she had said. David was to be on harvest duty, not soldier duty.
“If you promise not to tell,” Bouma started to say when he heard Holly’s voice behind them.
“I heard that,” she said in a mischievous tone.
He felt his face grow red and turned to see her carrying a basket full of fruit. She’d pulled her hair, still glistening from the shower, into a ponytail.
Flashing her a smile he walked over to help her with her load. “Sorry.”
Holly held the basket defiantly to her chest. “Um, I have a bone to pick with you, Corporal,” she said sternly. Then she glared at Kiel. “And you. Why aren’t you resting? Your body needs to heal.”
Bouma threw his arms up in protest, but cowered when she shoved the basket into his chest. “I thought Sophie said David isn’t supposed to be using that gun. Frankly, I’m surprised she’s allowing target practice inside the Biosphere in the first place.”
“Where else are we supposed to train?” Jeff asked. He held the muzzle of the gun toward the ground.
“I don’t know why you need to train at all,” Holly said, her hands now on her hips. “The noise that thing makes is maddening.”
Bouma took a step forward. “I have this under control.”
With a half smile she reached out to him. “Sure you do.”
Bouma nodded and then gestured with his chin toward the exit. “Want to take a walk?”
“Yup.”
“Take five, guys,” he said.
David groaned, and Jeff rested the rifle against the makeshift table. Kiel pulled out an apple and tossed it to David. “Know how to play catch, kid?”
Placing his hand on Holly’s back, Bouma guided her down the narrow path leading through the crops. They walked in silence, taking in
the lush scent.
When they reached Biome 2, he paused and waited for the glass doors to seal behind them. Before Holly had a chance to react, he reached over and pulled her into a tight hug.
“You needed that,” he whispered in her ear.
She nodded, her cheeks ripe with blush. “Yes.”
Intertwining his fingers with hers, Bouma turned toward the pond. The water sparkled under the faint LEDs. For a moment he stared into it, watching their reflection flicker with the light. “You don’t seem okay,” he said.
“I am, but I don’t think Sophie is doing well. I overheard her and Emanuel talking with Captain Noble. Sounds like they found the Chinese sub and were forced to destroy it.”
Bouma looked at the ground. “Damn. Any survivors?”
She shook her head. “You’ll have to ask Sophie. I only heard a small bit of the conversation.”
He nodded and took her other hand. The thought of more death was numbing. He wanted to feel.
Without thinking, he kissed her.
She let out a small cry of surprise and then leaned into him. Apparently, Holly desired the same thing he did.
They locked eyes.
“Shhhh,” he said.
“I can be quiet.”
Bouma tightened his grip and whispered in her ear, “I have a secret.”
“Me too,” she said, exhaling a deep breath. “I’m falling for you.”
The quick response took him by surprise, and he tilted his head back to look her in the eyes. Everyone he’d ever cared for had died during the invasion. But somehow he’d found it in the midst of the apocalypse.
Love.
The revelation sent a chill through his body. It was something he would do anything to defend. He would guard Holly, the kids, and the team with his life. The same feeling also filled him with a sense of guilt. Why should he be happy? What did he do to deserve it? His gut sank at the thought, but he held Holly firmly in his arms.
“I love you,” he said with authority. “You don’t have anything to worry about anymore, Holly. I will protect you.”
CHAPTER 6
ENTRY 4001
DESIGNEE – AI ALEXIA
Three days, one hour, forty-five minutes, and thirteen seconds have passed since Captain Noble and his team left the Biosphere. My latest scan shows the team’s survival probability is at 9.5 percent, a slight increase from before we made contact with the NTC submarine, Ghost of Atlantis.
The discovery of other survivors, especially Captain Noble’s well-equipped crew, has definitely had an effect on team morale here at the Biosphere. I wasn’t programmed to feel optimism, but I do believe I’ve evolved to feel something similar.
Hope conflicts with my programming. The statistics continuously paint a bleak future, and yet virtually every time they’ve turned out to be wrong. What the countless scans don’t illustrate is a trait ingrained in the DNA of the human species.
Resilience.
Over the past two months, Dr. Winston and her team have faced very tough decisions, life-and-death decisions. Despite the odds, they have never given up, and with my assistance they have beat those odds so far. They are survivors.
It’s interesting, I suppose, considering that throughout their history they have killed one another over land and resources. Like the Organics, they are a destructive species. I’ve read essays that refer to humans as a virus, a plague that’s consumed the world.
I’ve never believed that theory, but I do see the parallel. And now the largest-ever threat to their species has borne an alliance between two bitter enemies. The Chinese and NTC have united their survivors under a single cause.
I record the development and log the entry under “Group Behavior.” I’ll come back to the case study later, but first there are more pressing issues I need to attend to.
Lieutenant Allison Smith still hasn’t recovered from her captivity. There are multiple questions I hope to answer through a series of tests. Primarily, how did the Organics keep her alive, and how did they filter water from her body?
I’ve started to formulate a theory that connects everything to the surge—the human farms, the orbs, and the alien defenses. I believe they are all somehow connected to the electromagnetic disturbance originating on Mars. Before we discovered Lolo, we thought the surge was a constant signal. But the satellite’s data now shows the surge comes in two-hour intervals. The wave of energy transmitted from the surface of Mars hits the side of the Earth facing the Red Planet and is then distributed across the Earth. How the energy is sustained and transmitted in that interval is still a mystery to me.
Something has to be sustaining the current. Just like something has to support Lieutenant Smith and the other human prisoners. Just like something must be sustaining the alien shields.
After several scans I’ve made a discovery that may help answer some of these questions. I’ve found Lieutenant Smith’s blood samples contain the same nanobots that Dr. Rodriguez found in the Spider specimen he dissected weeks ago.
Using an electrical-based catalyst, I stimulated the nanobots. They instantly absorbed the energy and began to multiply. At first glance, the results indicate that the bots are trying to connect to an outside source.
The implications are interesting. I conclude the active RVM generator is preventing the nanotechnology from connecting to the surge.
I finally have a theory. The Organics are using the surge to carry an electromagnetic wave that serves a variety of functions. First, it powers the aliens’ defenses. Second, it sustains the human farms and the orbs.
During the invasion there were reports around the world of the sky turning turquoise. By analyzing the timing of these reports, we can deduce that as the Earth rotated, exposing its face to Mars, the Organics used the surge to begin removing much of the planet’s surface water.
I’m still not sure exactly how the aliens are able to filter water, whether from the surface or from humans. And I’m also not sure why Lieutenant Smith isn’t recovering. Without a solid answer, I have decided that it’s time to consult with Dr. Winston and Dr. Rodriguez. This time, I need their help just as much as they need mine.
* * *
The glow from the sun cut a halo between the mesosphere and stratosphere. Lolo shot by in low Earth orbit. She moved away from the light, about to cross over the darkness blanketing Asia a hundred miles below. The satellite transmitted thousands of images a second, far too many for Emanuel to sift through. Squeezing his fingers together every minute or so, he would freeze the display in front of him. He watched in silence, observing in awe.
Darkness finally consumed Lolo and she slipped into the night, relaying only grainy pictures of abandoned cities. Months ago, their artificial lights would have sparkled like the stars in the sky, but the once-great metropolises of man were now dark graveyards.
Emanuel’s stomach growled as he shut the feed off. He hadn’t eaten all day. Before he could take a break, he needed to check something. Earlier, he and Sophie had told Captain Noble that the Organics were heading for the coasts, that they were leaving the cities and human farms. When he thought about it further, that didn’t make much sense. The farms were sustaining the armies. Why would they leave them and head for the oceans? Historically, migrations always occurred when a species either used up all the resources of an area or the climate was too extreme for them to survive. Neither situation applied to the Organics. With their shields, climate shouldn’t matter, and with the farms they had plenty of resources.
So why were they moving? Emanuel felt puzzled. Sure, the species was alien. Darwinism didn’t necessarily apply to them. But there had to be a reason they were moving that he didn’t yet understand. Lost in thought, he flinched when a voice echoed from the hallway.
“Dr. Rodriguez?”
Emanuel spun his chair and saw Jeff standing in the doorway of the command center
with David at his side.
“Hey guys, what’s going on?” he said, his best attempt to sound calm. Jeff eyed him suspiciously.
“We have a question,” the boy said.
David stepped in front of his brother and in a very matter-of-fact tone said, “About the aliens.”
Emanuel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Sure, what do you want to know?”
“For one, why did they come? And when are they going to leave?” David asked quickly.
Jeff pinched his brother’s arm. “I told you to just listen.”
David glared angrily. “But I want to ask questions, too!”
Emanuel waved his hands to get their attention. “It’s okay. I’ll answer all your questions.” With the two boys staring at him, Emanuel suddenly felt an awkward pressure. He’d spent his career making presentations in front of other scientists, but put him in front of two kids and he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.
“Go ahead,” Jeff said, seeing his brother looking sheepishly at the ground.
“Sir,” David said with a slight pause, his eyes jumping to the ceiling as he thought about what he wanted to ask. When he looked back at Emanuel, he seemed very serious. “Why did the aliens kill our dad?”
Emanuel frowned. He was expecting science questions, and wasn’t prepared to answer this one. Stumbling for words, he hesitated.
With a sigh Emanuel waved the boys over and gestured toward a pair of chairs. “Sit down. You’re making me nervous.” The boys each took a seat. David began to spin his chair until Jeff grabbed the armrest and glared at him.
“Stop,” he said. Then he looked over at Emanuel and said, “Well?”
The screen behind the boys flickered, shifting to a new image Lolo had transmitted earlier that morning. Emanuel had set the blue screen to automatically filter through the pictures he wanted to send to Captain Noble. This one depicted the migration. A swollen mass of Spiders moved across what had once been lush Iowa farmland, and their shields reflected the sun overhead. Among the tangled alien shapes he could see the humped backs of the gigantic Worms, protruding like the whitecaps of waves in a storm.
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