STOP! She willed the word in her head again with a mental force so strong it tightened all her muscles.
The visions fell away immediately. The Organic voices stopped calling to her. Everything went still.
Sophie opened her eyes. The spider still had its mandibles wrapped around her waist, but it was no longer squeezing. The crackle of fire still sounded in the thin atmosphere, but the sound of gunfire had ceased.
Had everyone been killed? Was she the last one left? Left just so she could witness the result of the slaughter.
All the others were held in the jaws of spiders, just like her. Even Owen and Jamie had been lifted from their hiding place in the supply chamber. All their rifles had been tossed aside, and all the RVAMPs they had were nothing but piles of smashed plastic, scarred metal, and tangled wire.
She caught Emanuel’s eyes. He looked broken. One hand twitched under the spider’s grip. He was trying to reach out for her. There was nothing she could do but look back at him, hoping her gaze said what words cannot express.
Then the spiders let them all go. Sophie sucked in a deep, painful breath. The spider backed away and crouched, as if bowing to her. The others were left in their positions, though their spiders didn’t back away with the same reverence.
“What’s going on?” Emanuel asked. He tried to take a step toward Sophie, but the spider guarding him growled, slamming a claw down in his path.
Only Jamie and Owen were allowed to move near to one another. The two children clung to each other for dear life.
“It’s going to be all right,” Bouma said to them. “We’re going to be okay.” He was holding his left wrist. Blood dripped from the puncture in his suit.
Holly tried to comfort the children, but was prevented from going any nearer to the children just as Emanuel had been when he’d moved toward Sophie.
“Did you do that?” Diego asked, the only one that didn’t seem awed by the sudden change in events. “Was it those nanobots?”
“I don’t know,” Sophie said. The voices in her head were still quiet, and the pain didn’t come washing back. In fact, she hadn’t felt so whole, so herself, since before she’d been bedridden back in Cheyenne Mountain.
Diego still stared at her. “What’s going on?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
She wished she had a better answer. If she could control these aliens, if somehow she’d stopped them, she wanted to know how she’d done it. How she could convince them to let her go? To let the others go? No answer came to her. Instead, the sea of aliens parted. Sentinels and spiders alike moved back into the dead trees and trampled crops. They left a wide pathway full of claw marks.
Something else strode toward Sophie. The thing was unlike any alien she’d ever seen. It walked on two legs and had long, spindly arms. Black armor covered the alien, and seemed to protect its sinewy frame. Six more humanoid aliens paraded toward them, each carrying what looked to be some kind of rifle.
The humanoids walked directly toward Sophie. A new sensation flowed through her. She felt reinvigorated. Her muscles bulged, and she thought that if she wanted, she could tear one of the dead trees from the ground. Thoughts raced through her mind, chasing ideas and hypotheses she’d never followed through. Mathematical equations seemed to click into place with the ease of gears churning each other on. All at once, she felt she understood the frailty of the human condition and the precipice over which it teetered. At any moment, the species might plummet.
But not if every last human felt and thought like she did in that moment.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” the lead humanoid asked. “The power, the intelligence. The fuel pumping through your bloodstream, the feeling that you could do so much more now than any time before in your insignificant life. This is the promise I made, Sophie. The greatness that we can choose to become.”
A tingle chased fear down Sophie’s spine. There was something familiar about the voice emanating from that humanoid. Was it one of the aliens she’d seen in her visions?
“Who are you?” she asked.
The helmet retracted back from the humanoid’s head, disappearing into its carapace. Sophie’s stomach turned over, and her knees went weak. The face that shone there had the pointedness and seriousness of a crustacean. It had hollow cheeks, but pronounced cheekbones, and a high forehead that undoubtedly shielded brain-matter with more computational power than Sonya. Eyes glowed at her with a sapphire iciness, seeming to reflect the orbs that had desiccated human bodies back on Earth.
And, even through all those changes, Sophie still recognized the man this alien had once been. A scientist, like herself and Emanuel. One that had promised them humanity had a future in the stars. The sole reason she’d been so intent on coming to Mars. She’d grasped his words like a lifeline, knowing that his promises of a refuge here couldn’t have been without merit.
This humanoid alien was—or at least had once been—Dr. Eric Hoffman.
“Come with me.” He offered her his outstretched hand. “I’m our future, Sophie.”
— 19 —
The interior of the drone was smaller and tighter than the orb Noble had spent his imprisonment in. And now he had to share the cramped space. Roots clung to the gooey cocoon beside him.
The walls pulsated around them, veins cobwebbing across the skin of the drone. It appeared to be alive, and Noble felt like a small fish inside the belly of a whale.
He had always thought these ships were controlled by some alien artificial intelligence or a mothership, but now he wondered if the drones were themselves living creatures.
A cackle came from Roots.
“I’m sorry about Ribbit,” Noble said. He thought back to the alien dying in the pyramid. At least it had happened quickly. There was comfort in that, and in knowing the creature wasn’t suffering anymore.
Noble reached out to Roots. Its small orange lips parted and let out another cackle. There was nowhere else for the alien to go now that its bulb head and torso were pressed against the hide of the drone. All three of its compound eyes blinked. Another cackle reverberated out of its mouth as the alien showed off its small pointy teeth.
“Whoa,” Noble said, holding up both hands. “No need to get angry. I’m your friend.”
Roots looked down at the translucent floor, and Noble did the same. The drone continued circling the pyramid, providing them an aerial view of the moon base. Blue light streaked into the sky as more of the aliens from the zoo ship were sacrificed to the multi-dimensional’s god.
“Sons of bitches,” he cursed.
Roots tilted its head again.
“Not you,” Noble said.
He moved for a better look at the darkness above. Several large Organic cruisers hovered over the surface, blinking like beacons in a black sea.
All across the horizon, lancing blue light shot into orbit. Noble couldn’t see them, but there must be other pyramids out there. Other places where the Organics were sacrificing alien races and pulling new species to join their ranks like the multi-dimensional entity had done to him and Roots.
“We’re two of the lucky ones,” Noble whispered. “Lucky depending on who you ask.”
While they had been saved from death, Noble had a feeling that joining the Organic army could be an even worse fate. There were so many questions in his mind. Why him? Why not other humans? And probably the most pressing—why were the Organics setting up the sacrifices here and now?
Unless there were other humans in the Organic army. Perhaps they had already transported some of them from Earth.
He wagged his head, still expecting to wake up from this nightmare.
The drone suddenly shot away from the pyramid, knocking Noble against the wall. He gritted his teeth as the forces pulled on his body. The drone roared away from the alien base.
All across the skyline, other drones raced away from the Moon toward the massive cruisers in orbit. Maybe their bellies were also filled with prisoners chosen to join the O
rganic army.
He pulled his spine away from the skin of the drone, and jumped when a sudden jolt ripped through his body—the same electrical jolt he’d experienced from touching the walls of his old orb prison. But this time he wasn’t touching anything besides the floor of the drone.
He craned his neck to see Roots reaching out with all four arms. Sponge-like appendages that were some sort of fingers touched Noble’s flesh.
“What… What are you doing?” he muttered.
The response came in his mind, and he closed his eyes. His vision transported into what looked like a wormhole. Stars shot by, and then the journey stopped, the darkness replaced by a pink glow.
Only seconds passed before he realized this was a memory Roots was sharing with him.
They were on an alien planet; a place with rolling purple hills and blue flowers with long glowing stems the size of trees. Purple kite-like creatures sailed through the pink sky, wings extended as they glided over pastures where beasts, that looked like horses, grazed with elephant-like trunks.
The memory was from Roots’ childhood, over three hundred years ago, on his home planet. Noble knew because Roots told him—not in human words, but… Noble just knew.
The imagery changed to a forest where dozens of other aliens that looked just like Roots squirmed over purple grass. Flowers with petals the size of a car shifted in the wind. A group of four aliens strolled with Roots. His family, Noble realized. They were all over one hundred years in age, just a fraction of their life expectancy.
Unlike humans, these creatures did not have a sex. They were born from seeds, like trees on Earth. But they had brains, and communicated through touch.
Noble watched Roots squirm along with his family toward a teal lake set between trees the size of skyscrapers. Red bulbs covered the bark-like warts. But these weren’t blemishes. They were nests—the home of Roots and his species. Roots stopped to drink with his wormy legs, dipping the apparatuses into water where glowing fish glided.
A crunching echoed through the forest, and all the aliens looked up as tree branches and hunks of bark crashed into the lake. The red cocoons plummeted with them, families falling to their deaths.
Roots backed away and tried to run, but froze when Organic ships descended from the canopy far above. Cackling came from all directions, the cries of the frightened and peaceful aliens. These creatures had no way to defend themselves. They simply watched as their lake was sucked up into the belly of a massive Organic ship.
Then came the legions of spiders. The beasts fanned out across the purple terrain, capturing Roots and his friends and turning them into orbs. As far as Roots knew, it was the only surviving member of its species.
Noble’s eyes opened, and he drew in a long gasp of air.
He was back in the belly of the drone and looking at Roots, who had retracted its arms now. An overwhelming sadness rushed over Noble at the sight of the ancient plant in front of him. It had lost everything, family, friends, home. Just like Noble.
Roots reached back out with an arm, and Noble reared back this time, afraid to see more of the painful images. They were so real, so vivid.
But he had to trust his friend, just as he’d asked the alien to trust him.
He cautiously held up his finger. He connected once more with one of the sponge tips. This time Roots entered his mind, consuming his memories. They flashed across his vision—his youth, his time at the Naval Academy, his first commission with the NTC, his wife, the births of their daughters, and finally the invasion of Organics.
Noble’s finger dropped away from Roots’s sponge. Tears streaked down Noble’s face. The alien let out another cackle and then moved forward on its wormy arms until it was so close to Noble he could see the pores on its torso. He assumed the gesture was meant to comfort him—or maybe to comfort the alien.
The drone slowed as it approached the cruisers. Doors opened in the side of the closest ship, allowing drones inside the hangar.
Roots let out a cackle, and Noble replied, “We’re going to fight them, buddy. Mark my words, we’re going to fight.”
To his surprise, Roots acknowledged the statement with a nod of its slimy bulb head.
***
“Where are you taking us?” Athena asked. After fifteen minutes of descending deep beneath the military base, she decided it was time to ask some questions.
The old Hispanic man wearing the trench coat pulled off his breathing mask and stopped in the center of the tunnel. The beam from his flashlight hit Athena in the visor of her helmet, nearly blinding her for a moment.
“Not much farther now,” he said.
“Where’s the bunker?” Griffin asked.
The beam flitted away from Athena, hitting Griffin next.
“Bunker? Ain’t no bunker here anymore.” The man turned and motioned the kids escorting them to keep moving.
“Hold on just a damn minute,” Athena said. She pulled off her helmet. “I’m not going a step farther until you tell us who you are and where you’re taking us.”
Griffin bobbed his helmet. “You heard the lady. Tell us.”
The old man chuckled. “Suit yourself,” he said, continuing down the passage with the kids following close behind.
One of them stopped, a young boy maybe ten years old, holding a rifle way too big for him. “You better follow us.”
“Who are you, lady?” asked another one of the kids, a girl not older than nine.
“I’m Corporal Athena Rollins of the NTC Ghost of Atlantis,” Athena replied. “We’re here to help you, but you need to answer a few questions before we go any farther.”
The old man stopped, twisting one ear and one eye in her direction. He pulled a strand of white hair slick with sweat from his weathered brown forehead.
Griffin cradled his helmet in the crutch of his arm and moved next to Athena, a show of support.
“We were told you are resistance fighters,” he said in his deep voice. “Call me Santiago.”
Several of the kids were still pointing weapons at Athena and her team.
“How about you tell them to lower their rifles,” Athena suggested.
The man shook his head. “I don’t think so, Corporal. I don’t know you.”
A young man in his early twenties pulled off a breathing apparatus covering a lightly bearded face. “You’re here to help us?” he asked.
Athena nodded. “Our NTC AI contact, Alexia, said you were hiding here, and told us this was our best shot to link up with another group of survivors. She’s working on getting us off the planet.”
Santiago laughed even harder this time, bending over to slap a knee. “Off the planet, she says.”
“This guy crazy, or what?” Griffin whispered.
Several of the kids also laughed.
Athena remained stone-faced.
“I’ve been here since day one, and I can tell you, there is no way off the planet. Not here, at least,” Santiago said. “The aliens destroyed every aircraft within minutes of the invasion. I’m sure you saw the debris field out there. That’s what our military looks like now… The bunker is destroyed too. That’s why we’re hiding in the sewers like rats.”
“So you’re not NTC?” Athena asked.
“I’m all that’s left,” said the young bearded man. He reached out with a gloved hand.
“You’re a soldier?” she asked, shaking his hand.
“Yes, the only survivor of Pelican. My name’s Therin. Staff Sergeant Therin Corey.”
“Nice to meet you, Staff Sergeant,” she said.
“Likewise.”
Athena looked back to Santiago. “Alexia said she has a plan for us, and I trust her.”
“That makes one of us,” Santiago replied. “I don’t trust anyone, especially not a computer. So why don’t we keep moving.” He paused, staring hard at Athena. “We can chat later.”
Athena motioned for her team to continue. She drew in long breaths of unfiltered air. It was still steaming hot down here,
but noticeably cooler than at the surface.
They followed the kids and their two adult leaders down the tunnel. Several more passages led them into an amphitheater that had once been some sort of central draining area.
Fans blew air on the occupants of the space. Over the rush of wind came coughs and sobbing. Griffin stopped next to her to look at the cavern. Several candles burned on sconces set high on the concrete walls. The light illuminated dozens of cots along the eastern wall, where two women and twenty-plus young kids were sitting.
Santiago raised a hand, waving.
One of the women stood, placing her hand protectively on a small girl’s shoulder.
“More kids?” Griffin asked.
“Who are you people?” Athena asked Santiago.
He turned and shrugged. “I’m just a retired police officer turned school bus driver. We were on a field trip to visit the base during the invasion. This here is Miss Walsh, and Miss Gibson, both teachers.”
Both women raised hands.
“Staff Sergeant Corey brought us down here to hide during the attack,” Santiago said. “We owe him our lives.”
Athena gave Griffin a side glance. Trish, Malone, and Taylor all stepped up next to her to examine the survivors of Pelican Air Force Base. The group consisted of a cynical old retired police officer, a couple of sick teachers, a single NTC grunt, and a bunch of kids playing soldier.
These were the resistance fighters Alexia had promised would help them escape the planet?
— 20 —
ENTRY 10208
DESIGNEE – AI ALEXIA
My scans have picked up Organic nanotechnology inside the Biosphere. Sensors forty-one and forty-two have just picked up four of the mechanical balls moving through a decommissioned section of Cheyenne Mountain. I’ve sealed off every access tunnel, passage, crack, and cranny over the past few months, using my robots. Now those bots are moving into position to make sure the defenses hold.
One of them, the disc-shaped robot designated J-PP1, was designed for cleaning purposes. I’ve upgraded the bot significantly. It is now a vacuum cleaner turned bomb.
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