A wall of seawater shot out as soon as he opened the hatch. He braced himself, but the current was too powerful. He fell on his back, the water pushing him down the hallway.
Jed grabbed his arm and laughed. “So much for artificial intelligence,” he said.
With the younger soldier’s help, Diego pulled himself up. The water slowly dropped to ankle level. He sloshed forward, waving his men through the door. “Remember, survivors first. Salvage second.”
He wasn’t sure exactly what they were going to find when they reached the cargo bay, but after the beating the GOA had taken he wasn’t sure how any of the aircraft or other vehicles could have survived, especially at that end of the sub. He’d overheard the initial damage reports, and from the sounds of them, Compartments 4 and 5 were a total loss. Everyone stuck behind those steel doors was toast. Engineering would have suffered the same fate if it weren’t for Irene’s quick action. She’d sealed the section off swiftly.
Diego watched the beams from a half dozen lights penetrate the dark passage beyond. They swept over the hallway, several of them stopping on the outline of a woman. Her arms and legs were all twisted in different directions.
“We got a body,” the lead scout said. He bent down and checked for vital signs. “She’s gone,” he said, moving on.
Diego looked down at her mangled body. The current had taken her by surprise, but she’d somehow managed to grab hold of some metal mesh netting. His heart skipped at the sight. Even in the end, when all seemed lost, humans fought to survive; it was ingrained in their DNA. And it was why Diego believed they would survive the Organics.
Bending down he pulled a curtain of hair out of her face. It was Lilly, one of the engineers. She was far from her station—must have been trying to get there, Diego thought. He closed her eyelids with an armored finger and moved on.
The deeper they went, the more bodies they discovered. All of them had suffered blunt force trauma or broken necks. Some had likely drowned. He imagined the crew had had little time to seek safety. None of them were wearing harnesses.
“Sir,” a voice crackled over the channel.
Diego looked down the hallway, his light splitting through the darkness. Two of his men were crouched next to a body.
“We have a survivor.”
Diego rushed toward them, his boots splashing through the water. “Medic!”
“On my way,” Xavier replied. He wasn’t really the team’s medic, but Molly, their main doctor, had been severely injured during the accident.
When Diego got to the end of the corridor his men were working on propping the injured woman up against the wall. She was conscious, barely. He couldn’t make out the undecipherable noises coming from her mouth.
“She’s hurt, bad,” one of the men said. He dipped his helmet and the light illuminated her legs. They were both broken, the right one severely.
Diego turned to Xavier. “Get her on a stretcher and take her to Medical. We’ll continue to the cargo bay.”
Xavier nodded and tilted his visor toward the woman. He hesitated before bending down next to her, as though unsure of himself.
She whimpered in pain.
“Can you do that?” Diego asked.
“Yes,” Xavier replied without turning.
The response was convincing enough, and Diego followed the others to the hatch marked Compartment 7. When he got to the door, he hailed Irene. “What’s beyond this one?”
“My sensors are detecting damage inside the cargo bay, but I’m unable to determine if it’s been flooded.”
“Great,” Diego said. He tapped on the door with his armored hand. The sound of metal on metal echoed down the hallway.
“What do you think, fellas?” he craned his helmet to look at Jed, Colin, and Mike. They all shrugged.
“That’s kind of how I feel, too,” he replied. “Better hold on to something,” he said. Reaching for the circular handle, he twisted it and closed his eyes, preparing for a wall of water to come crashing down on them.
The hatch popped open and they were greeted only with silence. Diego cracked one eye open, his beam illuminating the dry cargo bay. It hadn’t been flooded at all. He let out a sigh of relief.
Sweeping his light across the room, his heart jumped. Inside, the corpses of aircraft and vehicles lay scattered across the floor. He scanned the destruction with disbelief until his gaze stopped on the Sea Serpent.
The gunship stood where they had left it, the frame mostly undamaged, protected by a metal mesh net that had saved it from the shrapnel of the other destroyed vehicles.
He chinned his com, activating a channel to the bridge. “Captain Noble, I think you better see this.”
“What do you have, Diego . . . ?” The captain paused. He was seeing what they were seeing through the team’s helmet-mounted cams.
“We’re still in business,” Noble choked. “That bird is indestructible.”
Diego didn’t reply. He was too busy looking at the rest of the compartment, wondering how they would ever be able to fight an offensive against the Organics now.
CHAPTER 13
HOLDING his breath, Emanuel crossed the room. With a sample of Sophie’s blood in hand he felt like he was holding the most important sample in the world. If she was infected with the alien nanobots, then . . . Well, he wasn’t sure what they would do.
He glanced over at her sleeping profile, the MindTec still hiding her face behind its white plastic arches. It was hard to believe she wasn’t compromised—that her irrational behavior and her thoughts were just part of a state of depression or anxiety.
There was little doubt in Emanuel’s mind that the sample he was carrying would show the same thing that Smith’s had. She was infected. Just how badly was the real question.
“Alexia, prepare for scan.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she replied.
He felt Holly’s hand on his shoulder.
“You ready?” he asked her.
She wiped another tear from her eye and then gave him an unsure half frown. Emanuel motioned toward the chair next to the dual monitors with his free hand. Then he moved to the electron microscope and slid the small tray of Sophie’s blood inside.
He pressed his eye against the machine, too impatient to wait for the image to transfer to the monitors.
“What do you see?” Holly quickly asked.
There it was.
Small, peppercorn-shaped nanobots floated freely. Emanuel zoomed in, still holding his breath. They were like those he’d found in Smith’s blood, but slightly different. Unlike those in Smith’s blood, Sophie’s did not have the same tentacle strands extending from the ends of the nanobots.
“Well?” Holly asked.
He pulled away from the device and looked at the AI console. “What do you make of this, Alexia?”
“Doctor Winston does not appear to have the severe case that Lieutenant Smith is suffering from. I’d hypothesize that the nanobots are replicating very slowly. The bots don’t appear to carry the electrical current.”
“Yet,” Emanuel said.
Holly put her hands on her flushed cheeks. “So if Sophie goes outside, then the alien technology will take over her body?”
“Their rate of reproduction would likely increase exponentially,” Alexia replied. “As you may remember, the nanobots in Smith’s sample all held charges. They were weak, but they appeared to be searching for something.”
Emanuel pressed his eye back against the microscope. The cluster of bots moved lethargically. The observation gave him a moment of hope, a snapshot of an emotion that he’d learned to suppress whenever it surfaced.
“Alexia, why aren’t the bots replicating?” Emanuel asked.
“Well,” Alexia replied, “I would argue the nanobots function in several ways. First, the water removal: the orbs, the poles at the human farms
, they all seem to remove water through this alien nanotechnology. Second, they all seem to hold an electrical charge, a charge fueled by the surge, which is then conducted through the Organics’ limbs to form a shield.”
“Sounds correct to me,” Emanuel replied. “But your earlier scans didn’t detect the bots removing any water from Smith. So what is their purpose in the human body?”
“Inconclusive, Doctor.”
Emanuel grunted with frustration. “We know one thing. It’s killing Smith.” He lowered his voice and turned to look at the marine.
“So what are we going to do?” Holly asked. She paced back and forth across the room nervously.
He reached for Holly’s hands and squeezed them softly. “It’s going to be okay. I have an idea.”
He saw a desperate look in her eyes, pleading for good news. Only this time he couldn’t lie.
Emanuel moved back to the monitor, his feet slow and heavy. “Alexia, is there a way to shut off the nanotech without causing further harm to the human cells?”
“Perhaps,” Alexia replied, “but that would require medical equipment we don’t have.”
Emanuel ran a hand through his hair. “So the only option we have is to zap Smith and Sophie with the RVAMP and hope it kills just the nanobots and not them?”
“I see no other option, Doctor,” Alexia replied.
Holly’s face drained of its color. In a soft voice she said, “What if it kills them?”
“I’m afraid it will kill them either way,” Emanuel said gravely. Walking over to Sophie’s bedside, he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. They had no other choice. They had to try and save her.
Emanuel ran his index finger across Sophie’s cheek and watched her sleep. She looked peaceful, a small comfort after all she’d experienced. He rubbed his eyes and said, “We should try and get some sleep.”
Holly exhaled audibly. “I sure could use some.” She reached over and squeezed Emanuel’s hand one more time and said, “Thank you. Thank you for doing all of this for Sophie.”
He managed a smile, “Meet me back here at seven AM. We’ll run this by Sophie when she wakes. After all, it’s her decision.”
She nodded and crossed the room, stopping in the doorway. “Alexia. Please look after Sophie.”
“Certainly, Doctor Brown. Goodnight.”
Leaning over Sophie, Emanuel kissed her softly on the forehead in the gap between the plastic MindTec arches.
“Goodnight,” he whispered into her ear.
He hesitated before leaving the room. Something didn’t feel quite right. It lasted only a few seconds, and a quick scan of the room revealed nothing. Smith and Sophie were both fast asleep, their eyelids closed.
Shrugging the paranoia off, Emanuel was moving toward the exit when he suddenly felt as if he was being observed. When he turned, he could have sworn Smith’s eyes were open. He froze, focusing on her profile, but saw nothing to indicate she was conscious. With a yawn, he pulled Smith’s blanket up to her neck and then walked out of the room.
* * *
Lieutenant Smith peeled back an eyelid. She watched the bearded man leave the room. A moment later a tingling began working its way through her body.
Her toes moved first. Then her right leg, and then both of her legs. Before she knew what was happening she sat up, her gaze sweeping the room. She focused on two dual monitors above the main terminal. She noted the wall cameras above the displays, one of which had settled on her, studying her, as she was studying it.
She sprang to her feet and sprinted to the monitor. Her hands shot out and typed on the keyboard. A screen she didn’t recognize emerged.
AI MAINFRAME
Smith’s fingers danced across the keyboard, typing commands she didn’t understand. The involuntary action prompted the calm robotic voice she’d heard before.
“What are you doing, Lieutenant Smith?” Alexia asked.
Smith ignored her.
New data rolled across the display.
WARNING—COMMAND WILL SHUT DOWN AI
DO YOU WISH TO PROCEED?
Smith watched her right index finger hover over the Enter key. She pushed down.
AI WILL SHUT DOWN IN T MINUS 15 SECONDS . . .
DO YOU STILL WISH TO PROCEED?
She suddenly felt a presence to her right. Alexia’s face had emerged above the console. “Please do not proceed any further. I will be forced to take severe measures. This is your only warning.”
Smith’s lips parted into a sadistic smile. She felt powerful. Without further hesitation she hit the Enter key again, and the AI’s translucent image faded away.
Turning, the marine rushed across the room to the exit. The time had finally come to return to the blue ones, the architects. She twisted the door handle and slipped into the darkness.
* * *
Holding his arm, Captain Noble returned to the CIC from the medical bay. The swelling had gone down, but it was still sore to the touch. The scene in front of him instilled a different type of pain, a mental anguish that was far worse than any torn muscle or ligament.
The smoke had cleared and most of the systems were already back online, but the damage was severe. Noble reflected on words his father had said the night he had died.
Every commander will regret an order over the course of their career. The test of a true leader is how they recover from that decision and what they learn from their mistake.
Depends on how big the mistake is, Noble mused, scanning the CIC. How many had died because of his decision? How many more would die now that the GOA was damaged? The ripple effect was extensive.
Leaders were rarely allowed the luxury of a second chance during a time of war. He’d had more than his share of them. Like those stories he’d grown up listening to about soldiers surviving countless bullet wounds. But he wasn’t sure he deserved the same luxury.
The crackle of white noise over the PA system snapped him from his thoughts.
“Captain, we have casualty reports coming in from the med bay,” Irene said.
“Go ahead,” Noble said with reservation.
“Twelve dead, and thirty-four wounded, sir.”
His gaze dropped to the floor, numbness prickling down his body. The reports were worse than he thought. Over half of his crew dead or wounded.
“Damage was severe. Engines 1 and 2 are still offline, but I’ve been able to reroute power to Engines 3 and 4. They are both fully operational,” Irene said. “Compartments 4 and 5 were purged of water and sealed. I also cleared Compartment 6. All systems are back online.”
“What about the cargo bay?” Noble asked. “Were crews able to salvage anything besides the Sea Serpent?”
“Aye, sir. Engineering believes they will be able to restore some of the vehicles and one of the gunships.”
“How about the drones?”
“Only one left.”
Goddammit, Noble thought. “Tell Ort I want to see him when he has a moment.”
The wheels from a stretcher clanked over the metal grid tiles on the top floor of the bridge. A pair of medics pushed the last body across the platform. Noble watched them struggle to get the wide cart through the glass doors.
“Move your end to the right,” one of the men said. With a grunt he shoved the bed. The edge clipped the door and the deceased’s hand flopped over the side.
Noble saw a thick gold ring sparkle under the bank of LED lights. His stomach sank; below the white sheets lay the body of his XO. He bowed his head, forcing himself to look away.
Behind him Athena cleared her throat and put her hand on his shoulder. “Sir, are you okay?” Her touch was comforting, and for a moment he let himself enjoy the unfamiliar sensation.
Her hand slid away. “Sir, I’d like you to look at something.”
She continued to talk as they walked acro
ss the bridge to her station. “When Irene rerouted power, I noticed something.”
Noble raised a brow as they arrived at Athena’s terminal. The left monitor displayed the map of the Biospheres Dr. Hoffman had constructed across the globe. His stomach churned for a second time in as many minutes when he saw all the lights had gone dark. Cheyenne Mountain was offline.
“This can’t be right,” he mumbled, sitting down in her chair for a better look.
“That’s what I thought, but I already checked with Trish. She can’t get a signal from them.”
Noble stood and looked for his communications officer. Near the front of the room, from which the rows of monitors were separated by a middle passage, he saw the profiles of three crew members huddled around the main display. They spoke in a hushed whisper with a maintenance worker in a red pair of coveralls.
“Trish,” he shouted, waving her toward him.
Trish’s freckled face emerged from the group a few seconds later. “Sir,” she said.
“What do you make of this?” he asked, gesturing toward the Biosphere map.
The young officer leaned over and punched a code into the terminal. The screen flickered and a diagnostic report emerged.
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN . . .
UTM COORDINATES . . .
LAST CONTACT . . .
0745 HOURS . . .
“The last signal picked up from the Biosphere was thirty minutes ago,” Trish replied. “Usually the signal is continuous.”
Noble resisted the urge to scratch his chin. He looked up, toward the front of the room. Travis and Reggie were glaring at him. When they noticed he was staring, they turned back to the maintenance worker.
“Could this be from interference?” Athena asked.
“Unlikely,” Trish replied. “We haven’t had any since the invasion. When those lights go out”—she pointed at the map and then ran a finger across her neck— “it means something catastrophic has occurred at the Biosphere.”
Noble had heard enough. “Irene!” he shouted.
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