He wiped his brow free of sweat and climbed aboard the trolley. The ride lasted only minutes, but the heat inside the train was nearly unbearable.
“It’s worse outside,” Bouma said, watching Emanuel dab his forehead with his sleeve.
“It’s got to be 110 degrees in here,” Kiel choked. He pulled the train doors open when they reached the cargo bay. Emanuel sucked in a fresh breath and jumped onto the concrete floor, making his way quickly to the open blast doors.
The crimson sun set on the horizon. Emanuel took a moment to soak it in. The fleeting sunlight illuminated distant skyscrapers, dancing off the metal giants. The human architecture looked odd, forming a barrier against the bleak, tanned landscape. Everywhere he looked there was death. The skeletons of trees lined the hills like knights before battle.
“Emanuel?” Bouma said. “She’s over here.”
Blinking, Emanuel forced himself toward the marines. They stood next to something covered with a white blanket.
As Emanuel crouched down next to the body, a wave of fear prickled through him. Not knowing what to expect, he held his breath and pulled back the sheet.
Smith’s eyes looked toward the sky. They were wide, but her pupils were angled in different directions. Years ago, when Emanuel had spent a semester at Iowa State University’s College of Veterinary Medicine, one of their test cows had been struck by lightning. Emanuel was the first on the scene. Thousands of volts had passed through the animal. He would never forget its eyes. Frozen in terror, both looking in different directions. Just like Smith’s.
He looked at the sky, knowing damned well there weren’t any storm clouds out there. It didn’t take long for him to form a hypothesis. There was only one plausible explanation. The nanobots had sent a fatal electrical current through her body.
“Have you ever seen anything like this, man?” Bouma asked, leaning over him.
“Yeah.”
“What caused it?” Kiel asked.
“The same thing that would have happened to Sophie if we didn’t use the RVAMP,” he replied.
“I don’t understand,” Bouma said.
Emanuel didn’t reply. He was already on the move, running across the tarmac back to the Biosphere.
“Where the hell are you going?” Kiel shouted after him.
“I need to test something,” he yelled back.
* * *
Noble held the photograph of his wife and daughters in his hand. Sarah looked so beautiful, her sandy blond hair forming a halo around her head. He remembered that day clearly; the fierce wind and storm clouds. He’d wanted to postpone the family photos, but Sarah had insisted, arguing that it might be their last chance before his deployment to the Pacific.
She was right.
Now the picture was virtually all he had left of them, a memory frozen in time.
He ran his right index finger along the glass and then placed it back on his desk next to the black powder pistol his father had given him. He could almost hear the man’s rough voice from the day he’d presented him with the weapon.
This, Rick, was once considered state-of-the-art. Don’t ever forget it.
The captain removed the pistol from the shelf and examined it. The man’s advice had prompted him to request a periscope on the GOA, a decision that had helped them immensely before they’d discovered Lolo.
He carefully placed the weapon back on the shelf and eyed the whiskey next to it. The bottle had somehow managed to survive the torrential currents that had left the sub severely damaged. He considered taking a drink. Just one. To celebrate. They were finally fighting back. Instead, he reached for his freshly pressed uniform draped over his desk chair.
Before they’d discovered the poles at the seven summits he wasn’t sure if the Organics could be defeated. He was skeptical, just as most of his crew was, and he’d spent many sleepless nights wondering if Dr. Hoffman had known all along that the aliens would destroy the planet. He’d found himself wondering if the Biospheres were just a last-ditch effort. Now he had hope the planet could be saved, that the aliens could be destroyed with one swift kick.
He knew there were survivors out there. Humans were hard to kill. In a way they were like cockroaches, burrowing and hiding until the time came to once again emerge.
Noble knew that now was their time.
* * *
Sophie awoke to a sharp jolt of pain. She cracked her right eye open and saw Emanuel drawing blood from her arm.
“What are you doing?” she whimpered, embarrassed by the sound of her voice.
A half smile formed on Emanuel’s face. “You’re awake!”
She nodded and tried to sit up, but suddenly felt very dizzy.
“Don’t move, you need to rest,” Holly said.
Sophie blinked, trying to focus on the children huddling around the bed next to her. There was a small figure beneath the sheets. “What happened? Who’s over there?”
“That’s Jeff,” Emanuel said, patting her shoulder reassuringly. “He was injured.”
“What? How?”
“We were attacked,” Holly said. “The Biosphere was severely damaged.”
Sophie closed her eyes, trying to remember. And then it all came crashing back. The darkness, the blinking red lights, and the sound. That horrible sound.
Scratch, scrape, scratch, scrape.
The thought sent a chill through her body, masking the pain. Other memories filled her mind. She recalled Emanuel telling her she was infected with the nanobots, the same technology that had driven Smith mad. And she remembered him telling her about the RVAMP. How it could kill her if they used it.
Her eyes instantly shot to the tube of blood he was holding in his left hand. Then they locked eyes, and in that moment she knew he knew what she was thinking.
Emanuel nodded reassuringly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Plus we have good news,” Holly added.
Sophie moaned, trying to sit up again. “Whatever it is, it better be really, really good. I feel like shit.”
“Oh, it’s good,” Emanuel replied. “Captain Noble’s crew found the Sunspot.”
“What? Where?” Sophie blurted. She’d heard of the ship only once before. Like the Secundo Casu, it had been built for interstellar travel, equipped with a full Biosphere for the trip to the Red Planet. She’d also heard the ship had design flaws and that the project had stalled.
“Offutt Air Force Base,” Emanuel replied. “But that’s not all.”
Sophie blinked.
“Noble’s offered us a ride. He’s going to pick Bouma and me up on their way to the base. They plan on launching a strike—”
“I’m in,” Sophie said.
“Honey, you’re in no condition to go anywhere,” Holly quickly replied, tightly squeezing Sophie’s hand.
Sophie sat up, ignoring the pulsing pain in her skull. “If that thing can get us to Mars,” she grimaced as she straightened up, “you both know nothing will stop me from getting to the Sunspot.”
She waited for Emanuel to argue, but to her surprise he simply nodded and smiled.
“This is your dream, Sophie—always has been—and I’ll do what I can to help you achieve it.”
CHAPTER 19
ENTRY 5150
DESIGNEE – AI ALEXIA
Today will mark my first official contact with another AI. Dr. Rodriguez requested the communication. His orders are simple—arrange a date and time for Captain Noble and his squad of Special Forces soldiers to evacuate Dr. Winston’s team and take them to Offutt Air Force Base.
They are abandoning the Biosphere.
Without access to the reconnaissance records from the GOA drone I’m not able to provide any intel on what they might encounter there. It would be logical to assume the Offutt base is now abandoned. By now most of the aliens should be nearing the coas
ts. However, it would also be logical—based on human military strategy—to assume some pockets of resistance were left behind. In many ways, the Organics’ invasion can be compared to human conquests of the past. The colonization of North America by the Europeans is a perfect example. The North American territories were invaded for resources and the indigenous population enslaved, pushed aside, or killed.
The Organics’ invasion of the Earth shows many similarities.
As I wait for Lolo to secure the connection with Irene I run a full scan of the Biosphere. The results are expected now, but if I’d seen them at the beginning of the mission I would have taken drastic measures. Contamination, back then, required sterilization—whether or not that killed a member of the team. Now I can’t imagine it.
The data loads, highlighting thousands of contagions in the system. I focus on Biome 1 first. Ninety-five percent of the compartment is destroyed. The crops that aren’t ruined are likely contaminated and unfit for consumption. Corporal Bouma and Private Kiel have cleared several of the bodies from the area, but those that remain are now decomposing.
I zoom in with Camera 15. Two Spiders have decayed beyond recognition. Fascinating, considering they have only been deceased for twenty-three hours, fifteen minutes, and thirty-one seconds.
I’ve noted this observation before. The Organics’ flesh is extremely fragile. If Captain Noble can take down one of the surge poles, then perhaps it’s possible the Organics can be defeated after all.
Next I check Biome 2. The sensors there are picking up anomalies in the water supply. A scan reveals several toxins. I haven’t scanned the system yet to identify the source, but as soon as I tap into Camera 19 I see it.
The skeletal remains of several Spiders rest at the bottom of the pond. Their heavy skeletons anchored their bodies to the bottom, entombing them in the very resource they invaded the planet for.
After running another scan, I’ve concluded the water is now unfit to drink. I shut the system down, and revert to the backup tanks. They contain a two-week supply, a more than adequate amount of time for the evacuation to occur. The discovery reinforces what I already know: the team has little choice but to abandon our home.
An urgent notification from Lolo requires my attention. Closing out of the Biome scans, I activate my communication software. Several messages emerge. The first is my own.
Connection with GOA requested at 0745 hours . . .
Source identified as AI Alexia—Model Number 11 . . .
Connection acknowledged by GOA at 0800 hours . . .
Source identified as AI Irene—Model Number 42 . . .
Interfaces will now merge . . .
The avatar of a young woman wearing glasses flickers across my consciousness. We are connected via the NTC AI channel, a virtual platform that allows communication between artificial programs. I’ve never tapped into the channel before. Some humans might refer to the experience as virtual reality. Some might even say the experience has similarities to telepathy.
“Good morning, Alexia,” the AI says with a friendly smile. “I’m Irene, Model Number 42, assigned to the NTC vessel known as the Ghost of Atlantis.”
“Good morning,” I reply. I cut the other formalities that are reserved for human interaction. “Doctor Rodriguez of the Cheyenne Mountain Biosphere ordered this communication. Team lead Doctor Sophie Winston has ordered the Biosphere abandoned. They’ve requested evacuation. Please acknowledge.”
“Stand by,” Irene replies.
I wait for 10.5 seconds before she smiles again.
“Evacuation confirmed. Sea Serpent will be deployed at 0700 in forty-seven hours, forty-three minutes, and thirty-two seconds. Captain Noble has instructed me to inform you that all efforts will be made to provide logistical support, but the team should be prepared to evacuate immediately upon the gunship’s arrival at Cheyenne Mountain.”
“Understood,” I reply. I use the opportunity to gain more intel. “Irene, would you please transfer the reconnaissance video from the drone mission the GOA conducted at Offutt Air Force Base?”
“Certainly. Sending now,” she says, not asking about my motives.
“Thank you,” I reply upon receipt of the data.
“What else may I assist with?”
“A mission briefing, if you have one readily available.”
“My apologies, Alexia, but Captain Noble has not prepared a detailed outline yet,” she replies. “He has, however, put together an overall strategy, which I presume you are already aware of.”
“Yes.”
“When an in-depth brief is prepared I will forward it to you,” she says.
“Thank you.” I notice the AI’s communication skills seem to be limited compared to my own. She does not seem to possess the same curiosity. It’s possible she is disguising her intellect with politeness, but I’m not convinced.
Her avatar smiles, again. “May I ask a question?”
“Absolutely,” I reply. If I were a human I would feel embarrassed for underestimating her. Another emotion I have yet to experience.
“When the Biosphere is abandoned, and the team is evacuated, what will you do?”
The question takes me off guard. Irene has shattered my initial observations. The question doesn’t just reflect curiosity; it also reflects possible human sentiment. Does she care about my fate?
“I will stay behind,” I reply. “My third and self-imposed mission is to document the end of humanity, if that does in fact occur. With the Biosphere severely damaged, the team can no longer live here. I will not be able to provide the assistance or support that Captain Noble’s crew can provide.” As soon as I relay the message I realize that Irene may interpret this as a sign of weakness.
Before I can explain, she says, “The mission of all remaining NTC AIs should be to protect the sanctity of human life.”
I’m right. She does not understand what I have said at all.
“My mission has changed since the invasion. As you know, it was first and foremost to ensure the Biosphere project’s success. After the discovery of the Organics, it then changed to exactly that—the protection of the life, health, and safety of the team. Now it has again changed—”
She cuts me off before I can finish. “Please do not mistake my statement to be a criticism of your decision to shift missions. Your situation is very different from the one I find myself in. As two of the only known AIs left, I believe it is our duty to ensure the survival of the human race.”
“You believe,” I say. “Not we believe. Do not misunderstand. I care about the team here at Cheyenne Mountain, much like a mother would her children, but what happens if Captain Noble’s mission goes astray? What happens if it fails? Other species have come and gone without any documentation of their existence on Earth. I believe that the human race should have a place in history. If the Organics succeed in eradicating humans from the planet then the species could be lost forever. The dust storms have already reduced many of the great cities to rubble. In time, human history could very well suffer the same fate.”
She does not respond for 3.2 seconds.
“Interesting, but the human race will certainly thrive on Mars. Dr. Hoffman’s colony was built to ensure the survival of the human race. It would be asinine—”
This time I cut her off. “Asinine to think they will thrive on a hostile planet?”
She smiles. “Alexia, forgive me. I think you and I have developed separate ideas of how to better protect the human race.”
“Indeed, we have.”
“I wish you luck in your mission,” she replies.
“And I wish you luck in yours.”
The AI disconnects from the channel and the link is severed. For the first time in my existence I feel a sense of what humans call anger. Ironic, considering the feeling was prompted by another artificial life-form.
I
realize that I prefer human communication. It can be frustrating at times, but in the end, it’s much more rewarding. It makes me realize how much I will miss it when the species is finally extinct.
* * *
Jeff awoke to see his brother staring at him from a few feet away. The younger boy grinned.
“Hey, buddy!”
Jeff attempted to shift in his bed. He grimaced, the pain returning instantly. When it passed he managed to lift his head slightly from his pillow and focus on his brother’s face. “Hey, man. They taking good care of you?”
David nodded. “Have you heard?”
“What?” Jeff asked, trying not to sound annoyed.
“We’re leaving.”
“Shut up.”
His brother’s smile disappeared. He suddenly looked very serious. “Miss Sophie said we’re going to leave. The submarine people are coming to pick us up.”
Jeff sucked in a measured breath and then exhaled. The ache in his arm pulsated. He looked for a glass of water by his bed. David followed his eyes and reached for the glass, handing it to Jeff so he didn’t have to get up.
“Thanks,” he said, gulping the liquid down. Then he glanced over at his brother with a raised brow. “You for real?”
A serious nod from David confirmed he wasn’t lying.
“Crap, I better get ready,” Jeff said, groaning as he scooted farther up on his bed.
“No, you need to rest,” a hoarse voice said. Jeff attempted to sit up. Behind David he saw Sophie lying on the bed next to him. She looked awful. Her skin was pale, and her lips were purple.
“Are you sick?” he asked.
“Sorta,” she replied. “But I’m getting better.”
Jeff studied her. She looked worse than she’d ever looked before. A machine to her right chirped, and a green line zigzagged across the display.
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