Orbs IV_Exodus_Post Apocalyptic Science Fiction Survival Thriller

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  J-PP1 takes up position in a one-by-one-foot air duct, waiting for its new mission. The motion detectors in this vent pick up four Organic spheres moving through the passage. J-PP2 and J-PP3 are also moving to engage the alien nanotechnology.

  I send a signal to J-PP1, an order that will terminate the robot. An instant explosion rips through the vent where J-PP1 has halted. Flames rage across the mangled metal bulkheads and the debris of J-PP1. Smoke swirls across the destruction. I wait for it to clear. The motion sensors no longer detect movement, and when the smoke disperses, I see the alien nanotechnology is smoldering.

  I feel what humans might describe as satisfaction, but there’s no time to waste on human emotions. Sensors in section fifteen of the facility pick up more movement in the ventilation shafts right above the destroyed biosphere farm. I switch to that feed. Another five of the spheres are moving through the tunnels.

  Multiple sensors alert me to movement in…

  Wait.

  I check the feed in the air duct J-PP1 just blew up. Movement slices through the smoke. The spheres have transformed into discs in order to negotiate the twisted metal.

  This changes things.

  If I can’t blow them up, I’ll be forced to permanently shut down before they can tap into my system. The Organics cannot be allowed to get hold of my hard drive. Doing so will put every surviving group in jeopardy.

  It’s not over yet, however. As humans would say, I still have tricks up my sleeve.

  The first is Y-K8, another robot retrofitted out of parts from the medical ward. The body consists of a stainless steel box and two mechanical arms, one with a grabbing claw, the other with a hydraulic pincer. It moves on a continuous track system like a tank, and has an advanced optical system that was previously used for medical scans and procedures.

  J-PP1 helped build this device a few months ago, and I’ve been tweaking it ever since. I may not have a body, but the two mechanical arms Y-K8 sports will serve as my own.

  The robot rolls across the dry soil of the farm, crushing roots and stems beneath its tracks. I direct it to stand right beneath the air duct panels. The grates pop off, and three of the five Organic nanotech spheres drop to the dirt, where they too transform into discs.

  Reaching out with the two arms, Y-K8 drives toward the three discs. The grabbing claw and hydraulic pincer grab one of the discs. The top of the metal box opens and a third arm with a sub-electronic converter emerges. This is the same device Doctor Sophie Winston used in medical experiments some months ago to tap into her dreams.

  I will use the converter to hack into the alien nanotechnology. I have no idea if it will work, but I am anxious to try. Commander Suzuki had planned to use something similar, and never had the opportunity.

  The Organic disc vibrates in the grip of Y-K8, but the other two discs appear focused on finding a way into the facility. Both of them reform into spheres and glow a bright red. Seconds later, they roll to the door and melt their way through. They have their own tricks, I see.

  Y-K8 blasts the captured disc with a shock of electricity, and then taps the disc with the convertor extension. Data flashes through my system. I begin the hard part—hacking into the Organic network using the nanotechnology as my gateway.

  I do not anticipate taking long to hack my way in, but the two spheres have already melted through the door and are continuing on. Four more have dropped from vents and are racing through the mess hall. Another three have made their way into the living quarters.

  I don’t have much time.

  The one thing I have to guide me is the schematic Commander Suzuki sent me of the Shark, the night of his death. The data I gathered from the blueprints has given me a window into how Organic operating systems are setup.

  I’m into the system a moment later.

  The view is marvelous.

  Several seconds pass, then an entire minute. I’ve spent that time searching the most advanced computational architecture I’ve ever seen in my entire life. In some ways, the Organic system mimics a human brain. Everything is connected. Through it, I can even access the Organic network that connects these individual pieces of technology.

  I know I won’t have long before they detect me and shut me out, but I don’t need long to do what I’ve been planning.

  Sensors flash, warning me the nanobots are making their way deeper through the Biosphere. Three have already found the entrance to the storage area where my systems are housed. The hard drive isn’t far.

  Now I know what it’s like for the human race. Time is running out, and the only hope rests in the operating system of a tiny robot.

  I send a final order to Y-K8. Another jolt of electricity comes from the sub-electronic converter, impregnating the Organic disc with my final trick.

  I hope the Organics enjoy the virus I just uploaded.

  END ENTRY

  ***

  Emanuel slipped his hand into Sophie’s. They sat next to each other on a sleek transport ship just like the one they’d discovered in the Secundo Casu’s vehicle hold. One of Hoffman’s humanoid companions piloted the vessel. They swept low over the Martian landscape. A host of other transport ships followed them. These held the remaining spiders and Sentinels that had nearly killed Sophie and the others.

  They’d had no choice but to follow Hoffman or face immediate death.

  “Why did you try to kill us?” Emanuel asked.

  Hoffman—or at least the alien that looked like Hoffman—appeared to offer a sad grin. Emanuel still couldn’t decide if this was some strange biomimicry or if it really was Hoffman that had been manipulated and molded into the abomination that walked before them now.

  As a biologist, he marveled at what scientific advancements would be necessary to alter a person’s physiology into what appeared to be a completely different life form. As a human being, it repulsed him.

  “I didn’t try to kill you,” Hoffman said. “You fought the Organics, and they tried to kill you. You should be thanking Sophie, though. She’s the only reason you’re still alive. I noticed you tried to destroy some of the nanobots in her. Thankfully you didn’t succeed. Those bots are still attuned to the Organic network. I think, if I recall correctly, you and Captain Noble were calling the energy waves the Organics’ use in their network ‘the Surge’ when you tried to destroy the relay pylons. In any case, the bots in Sophie are every bit as Organic as any of the spiders or”—he used a clawed hand to indicate himself—“me.”

  “How the hell do you know about Noble and what we were doing on Earth?” Bouma asked.

  “Decrypting non-integrated human technology is easy enough when you have the advantages we do now,” Hoffman said. “Even as corrupted and failing as Sonya was, it wasn’t difficult to recover and restore all the data you brought aboard the Sunspot.”

  “Non-integrated?” Sophie narrowed her eyes at Hoffman. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “This is what we’ve been doing,” Hoffman said. “Integrating humanity with the Organics.”

  Emanuel felt Sophie deflate next to him. They had come to Mars expecting humanity to be scrabbling for a foothold in their little corner of the galaxy.

  Maybe it was crazy, but that’s what had kept Emanuel alive. But now it seemed like Hoffman was rolling over on his back and letting the Organics tread all over him and the rest of human civilization. As if they hadn’t taken enough already.

  “You’re selling us out to the Organics,” Emanuel said. “We fought for our lives in that Biosphere. You tricked us into believing we were running some grand experiment. Then you fooled us into believing you were trying to save humanity, that your intentions had been noble all along. That you were going to ensure we had a future free of Organics.”

  Hoffman frowned. Or at least, that’s what Emanuel assumed he was doing. The crustacean features of his face didn’t offer the same breadth of emotion Emanuel was used to.

  “Did I promise you all that?” Hoffman asked. “Or is that what you assumed?
Is that what you tried to read between the lines?”

  One of the humanoids at the front of the aircraft scoffed. Hoffman scowled at the humanoid before turning back to Emanuel.

  “Everything I did, I did for the future of us.” Hoffman pointed to Sophie and the rest of the crew, then at the two children nestled into their seats at the rear. “I’m a scientist, and I worked with some of the best minds Earth had to offer. I knew all the smartest people, the most successful people. I don’t say this to brag. I say this because I had my pulse on what humans could feasibly accomplish.

  “When I learned the Organics were coming for Earth, I quickly saw that humanity didn’t stand a chance. They wanted our resources, and they wanted our water. There was nothing we could do to stop them. It wasn’t as if we were the Native Americans resisting the invasion of Europeans on their lands.”

  Hoffman shook his head before continuing. “We were the animals hunted for sport and because we were nothing but a nuisance. No, maybe that isn’t accurate. Christ, we were the ants smashed beneath their feet. We were so insignificant that there were no war plans to take us out. Do you declare war and mobilize the best of your forces to eradicate an ant colony? No, you simply stomp on it. It was a given that the Organics would win.”

  “Even on Mars, even when you had a chance to hide and colonize a new future for us, you sold us out,” Emanuel spat. A pressure throbbed behind his eyes. “You gave us up to the Organics out here when we could’ve had a chance to escape.”

  “You don’t understand,” Hoffman said. “Mars was never the chance for us to escape. It was a common ground for us to meet on. A proving ground, even. It was my attempt to show the Organics that it was worth keeping us around. That we were destined for the stars, just like they were, and we didn’t have to be driven to extinction to help them.”

  “You wanted to help these assholes?” Bouma roared.

  Hoffman’s claws clicked together. The aircraft started to descend over the red Martian landscape. A few swathes of green and blue appeared along the mottled ground. The terraforming efforts, as Emanuel had suspected, were taking hold.

  “I didn’t want to help them,” Hoffman said. “I had to. They had—and still have—the power to completely annihilate us if they so choose. Do you know what they do to other species?”

  Of course Emanuel had no response to that.

  Hoffman looked at Sophie. “Do you know what the zoo ships are for?”

  “I assumed some kind of prison,” she replied.

  “That is only partially correct. They use that same technology to analyze their collected specimens. The Organics weed out those they don’t want. Then, they sacrifice the weak to their gods. These multi-dimensional, technologically-evolved Organics believe in some insane higher power, and we are the price they pay for that. If we wanted one shred of humanity to survive, I had to show them that we could be helpful allies.”

  Emanuel wanted to challenge Hoffman again, but then he saw the look on Sophie’s face. Her expression had gone placid and her skin pale.

  “The spiders, the Sentinels, the Slingers. All of them are allies, too,” Sophie said.

  “That’s right,” Hoffman said. “They were the species that realized their future depended on the Organics. Their planets now belong to the Organics. And they weren’t the first, as you well know.”

  He looked hard at Sophie. Her eyes conveyed a sadness Emanuel had never seen before.

  “What’s he talking about, Sophie?” Emanuel asked. “What are these zoo ships?”

  “The zoo ships,” she said. “The zoo ships from my visions. They’re collections of all the species that they conquered.”

  Now even Hoffman seemed a hint touched by sadness. Emanuel had not expected that.

  “That’s right,” Hoffman said. “The zoo ships contain specimens of all the creatures and sentient beings the Organics have encountered. And all of them stood not a chance against the Organics inevitably taking them over. But the ships are so much more than prisons. They’re repositories for biological and genetic data. The Organics draw from the inspiration of nature. I believe they appreciate the myriad pathways evolution took, all across the universe. It’s like an art to them. They are not, as we are, gifted with the same type of creativity and imagination the human mind has. So instead, they pick and choose and plagiarize what they see life doing on other planets. It’s that type of mentality that leads to creations like me.”

  He sighed before continuing. “You might not believe it, but the spiders came from a peaceful race, as did the Sentinels. Even the worms you saw on Earth. They all had their minor squabbles, no different from humanity. But, by and large, they were not the types of aliens to go around conquering other sentient species.”

  “Then why did they turn into tools of war?” Bouma asked.

  Diego still sat by the man quietly. He looked enraptured by everything Hoffman said. It unnerved Emanuel.

  “That was how they proved their usefulness,” Hoffman said. “They became the grunts and warriors, the shock troops that gave the Organics a ground presence during their invasions.”

  “And what role do you have planned for us?” Emanuel asked.

  The craft swooped low over a swathe of grass swaying in a light breeze. Emanuel even thought he saw a stream trickling through the meager foliage. The small meadow looked surprisingly Earth-like. They entered a canyon that snaked through the land, following a dry riverbed.

  “I want us to be creators and scientists for the Organics,” Hoffman began. “Just like we always were.”

  “I’m no scientist,” Bouma said.

  Hoffman laughed. The sound approached demonic. “I don’t mean in the traditional sense. Look, ask Dr. Rodriguez. He could tell you more about this as a biologist than I could. Humans succeeded throughout history not because we were the strongest animals on Earth or the fastest or the most aggressive. We were—”

  “The smartest,” Bouma said.

  Hoffman shook his head. The craft rattled as they flew by the towering canyon walls. “It’s more than just intelligence. It’s our curiosity and creativity.” He pointed to Emanuel. “You took wires and scrap metal, and a basic knowledge of electromagnetic interactions, and turned those things into a weapon.”

  “The RVAMP,” Emanuel said. “But it wasn’t just my invention.”

  Hoffman shrugged. “So you adapted someone else’s creation and made it better. That’s what humans do.” He pointed to Bouma. “You might be a soldier, but if I am developing a weapon, who do I consult with how best to deploy it? How do I know if it will stand up to the test of actual warfare?”

  Bouma sat silent, while Diego nodded along.

  “You may offer your own suggestions, and together we will build something greater than we had before,” Hoffman said. “That is what I am doing on Mars. That is what I’m offering the Organics. They teach us and instill in us the ability to comprehend their world, and I promise them that we can make it even better. We will be the engineers in the Organic empire. We will have a crucial place in their expansion, and we will, most importantly, have a future.”

  “That’s why you spared us,” Sophie said. “Recruit more scientists.”

  “Yes, exactly!” Hoffman seemed pleased about it. “You all are welcome gifts. You’ll fit in extremely well with the people I’ve already integrated.”

  They exited the canyon. Before them was a white structure that contrasted sharply with the tufts of grass and red soil around it. More white buildings littered the landscape. Shapes crawled between them. Along one long stretch of rolling land, a fleet of Organic ships were docked. Looming over the smaller ships were enormous ones that looked more like oversized beetles than the spaceships of an advanced race.

  “Those are the zoo ships,” Sophie whispered.

  Emanuel noticed Diego’s eyes were glued to the scene below them. He seemed to be looking at the ships in awe, as if these things impressed him. Emanuel had always held a bit of contempt for the man sin
ce he’d shown his reluctance to save Sophie when they’d first landed on Mars, but this was even worse.

  Diego shouldn’t be admiring what the Organics had done. In Emanuel’s opinion, he should be despising it.

  They curled over all the buildings to find their own spot among the docked ships.

  “It’s like my vision,” Sophie said, nearly standing in her restraints.

  “Except, I imagine there are more Organics,” Hoffman said.

  “Yes,” she said. Her fingers squeezed Emanuel’s.

  “I will admit, I had some influence on your visions,” Hoffman said. “I took a few liberties when I helped the Organics give you them. I figured I couldn’t get you, or anyone else infected with the nanobots, here without making the place appear a little more like home to unintegrated minds.”

  Once again, Hoffman had used his advantages to trick them. Emanuel fought to control the anger within him. Looking at Hoffman—the man, the alien, whatever it was—made him physically sick.

  “This is no way for humans to live,” Emanuel said. “To be slaves of a species as monstrous as the Organics.” He clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. “There isn’t anything human about that.”

  The aircraft lowered until it hit the ground, kicking up a rolling cloud of red dust.

  “This is our only way forward,” Hoffman said. “The only question is, will you be left to the past, or will you join me in our future.”

  No one said anything.

  Hoffman stood, as did the rest of the integrated humans. He gazed among the crew. All of them were Hybrids, part-human, part-alien. Grotesque phenomena of alien biology to Emanuel, and apparently something extraordinary to Hoffman.

  “Sophie, you’re already part-way there,” Hoffman said. “It would be easiest to integrate you with the bots flowing through you, ready to remodel your genetic structures. The process doesn’t take as long as you’d think. You can walk out of this craft now a human, and then join us as an Organic-integrated human in less than two hours. You will have a future on Mars. I ask again, will you join us?”