The Lost Colony Series: Omnibus Edition: All Four Volumes in One

Home > Science > The Lost Colony Series: Omnibus Edition: All Four Volumes in One > Page 8
The Lost Colony Series: Omnibus Edition: All Four Volumes in One Page 8

by Andrew C Broderick


  Morgan didn’t mind walking alone, or being alone just about any other time; she was decidedly introverted. Her thoughts turned to the anomaly that was in orbit somewhere above them. Much as nobody wanted to believe it, it wasn’t a lump of rock. As fascinating as it would be to meet aliens, it meant the mission had to be aborted. Damn it. Their six month excursion would last all of three hours. Morgan stopped in the middle of the neat row of houses to sniff the air. No salty ocean smell, unlike just about anywhere on Earth close to the sea. However, there was a faint but unmistakable aroma of pollen. What weird and wonderful plants were out there to be discovered? And as for the oceans… such a vast environment. There wasn’t yet a map of the seafloor, so its depth was unknown. But if that biosphere was even half as diverse as that of Earth’s, there would be many lifetimes’ worth of discoveries to be made. That was what made Morgan’s pulse race. She thought about Sally’s rather pointed question about whether she was in it for the science. Of course she was; who wouldn’t be on an expedition like this? But, the money wasn’t bad either.

  Main Street came to an end about twenty meters after the last house. Beyond it was gray rock. Not completely flat, but easily walkable. Morgan stopped and looked around. Close by, the waves lapped at the shore, making that timeless, peaceful sound. The sea was relatively calm. To the left was a promontory, perhaps 100 meters distant, and another one to the right. Serenity Bay actually was a bay; a natural harbor. The rugged environment reminded Morgan of the Canadian coast, or perhaps that of the Faroe Islands, halfway between Scotland and Iceland. The environment and climate there were so much like Tectonia that the astronauts had spent a year training there, in everything from survival to rock climbing.

  “Hi, Morgan!” came a cheery American voice from somewhere behind her.

  “Oh, hi Elaine.” The woman—somewhat older than Morgan, with loose light brown curls—picked her way carefully across the rocks to meet Morgan at the shore. She carried a plastic box by its handle. “Isn’t this gorgeous?” she said, taking in the horizon with a sweep of her free hand.

  “Yeah. Yeah it is. Well, I’d better get what I came here for.” Morgan set two of the jars down next to her, opened the third, and scooped seawater into it. After clamping the lid shut, she filled the other jars. She held one of them up triumphantly to Elaine. “That’s going straight under the microscope once we’re back on the ship.”

  “Nice. I got my box o’ rocks right here. Just waitin’ for the hammer.”

  “Cool. So, what do you think of this alien spaceship?”

  “I really don’t know what to think…”

  Both women’s faces suddenly registered shock. They looked away, unfocused for a few seconds, and then back at each other. “Holy shit! Let’s get going!” Morgan said. The words they had just heard in their heads were, “Broadcast message to all personnel! Emergency orders per Captain Martelle: return to Hercules and prepare for immediate evacuation. The alien craft is now descending quickly—on a trajectory for Serenity Bay.”

  * * * *

  Morgan and Elaine ran headlong across the rocks. One of Morgan’s precious sample jars crashed to the ground to shatter as she stumbled. “Dammit!” Morgan wondered in the back of her mind whether these rocks got wet from rising tides, but a quick glance as she regained her balance confirmed that there was little seaweed—maybe a few big waves during storms, but those thoughts could wait...

  Soon the women’s white, rubber-soled shoes were hitting asphalt as they dashed. Elaine clutched her box of rock samples in both arms as if it were an infant. Morgan had an easier time, carrying her remaining jars one in each hand. They sprinted past the houses of Main Street, and up ahead Morgan could see others running, already heading around the laboratory buildings on Newton Square. None of them had broken a sweat yet—peak fitness being a requirement for inclusion on Hercules’ crew. “I guess we’ll be some of the last ones back,” Morgan yelled across to Elaine, who was keeping up with Morgan but starting to pant with the weight of carrying her box.

  “Looks like.”

  As the women reached the laboratories and veered for Pad 1, somebody yelled “Morgan!” from off to their left.

  “Chris!” Morgan yelled back, as the solid form of Chris Fox ran across the flat, heather-covered rocks to join them on the road. Sally ran alongside him.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Chris asked. “Why is that thing heading for here?”

  “Don’t know and don’t want to stick around to find out.” Morgan’s face was slowly turning red from the exertion.

  “Hopefully they got the water tanks filled,” Chris said. “Not likely though. Takes hours. Probably never thought we’d need to take off so soon.”

  The road, though only a kilometer long, seemed to stretch forever, and Morgan slowed down so they could all run together. Elaine, with her heavy cargo, brought up the rear.

  Chris stopped suddenly, crying: “Look!” He pointed off to their left, about forty-five degrees into the air. A white fireball carved its way through the sky, leaving a fiery, glowing trail in its wake. It was heading straight for their landing site.

  Morgan’s heart almost stopped as she and the others pulled up short. “Shit! We’re done for!”

  “We don’t know that,” Sally said. “They might be friendly—”

  “I don’t want to find out!” Chris said, and ran for it.

  The others stumbled after him as the ground around them lit up. The incoming object shone as brightly as Constantine, and the foursome halted in pain, their eyes tracing its arc, and their skin flush with the heat pouring off the meteor.

  “Is it using engines to brake?” Chris said.

  “Yes,” Morgan nodded, breathless.

  Hercules was not far away, looking no bigger than a car parked on the other side of the street from their vantage. Due to the incline of the road, only the top of the ship was visible. Morgan shot forward, eager to take shelter, and the others followed suit.

  As they cleared the top of the hill, they could see and hear a babble of confused, panicked astronauts careening up the steps into the ship. The thick water hose was being pushed away back across the pad by two people using a wheeled dolly to bear its great weight. The four of them kept running full tilt for the stairs. Then the sky split apart with a mighty roar as the sound from the incoming object reached them.

  They dove instinctively to the ground, looking up from arms thrown over heads to stare dumbfounded at the alien ship. It was round and roughly cone shaped—an Apollo capsule magnified fifteen times. And it roared toward them at frightening speed, still at an angle to the ground as it continued to brake. Those standing on Pad 1 shielded their eyes against the light of the miniature sun, doing their best to simultaneously block out the deafening clap of its approach.

  Morgan’s remaining two jars of seawater fell from her hands to smash beneath them as her body fell inert. The water darkened the asphalt—now littered with broken glass—as it ran downhill. She and the other astronauts lay incapacitated not by heat nor shockwaves, but by… something else.

  They all clutched their heads. “I think my implant stopped working!” Morgan yelled over the screaming of the descending craft.

  “Jesus Christ!” Chris yelled. “I think it was an EMP attack! It knocked out the circuits in our implants!”

  “That means, the ship’s…” Morgan cried over the pain.

  “Disabled!” Chris replied, clearly struggling to maintain control of himself. “We’re stuck here!” Morgan glanced to Elaine and Sally, now lolling unconscious, then to the pad. Everyone waiting to board Hercules was now either writhing around, clutching their heads, or lying still. Their bodies, and Hercules herself, cast lengthening shadows as the alien craft descended. On the other side of Hercules, rocks and plants were thrown up by its exhaust. Some dented Hercules’ hull as they flew. Others hit prone astronauts on the concrete pad, scattering them like rag dolls. A few fragments flew as far as Morgan and the others, giant rocks raini
ng down to thud into and crack asphalt. The bulk of the other ship, taller but thinner than Hercules, settled slowly down. Landing legs extended, their lengths differing to accommodate the uneven ground, and it finally came to rest. The burning light disappeared immediately, and Morgan could see the underside was convex with a ring of large engines around the outside. The ship’s edge was sharp all the way around above the engines, then the sides tapered in, rising to a blunt, rounded cone at the crown. The air crackled with a loud hiss like water flashing to vapor on a hot frying pan and steam clouds rose up, momentarily obscuring the alien craft from view. A slight breeze drew the white cloud across Pad 1, temporarily hiding most of Hercules and the stricken crew below her—the ship dumping water onto its landing site to cool it as quickly as possible. Some of the astronauts beneath and around Hercules began to crawl at first, then finally regained their feet and began to stagger away from the alien ship. As they fled, a hatch opened in the belly of the alien craft, facing toward the Hercules. Morgan managed to sit up. She watched the proceedings, some 300 meters away while Sally and Elaine lay inert, and Chris lay on his stomach, clutching his head and his pupils dilated.

  A ramp in the alien craft’s belly extended slowly towards the ground. As soon as it was down, silver spheres each half a meter across rolled down its length. They negotiated the uneven rocky terrain easily, managing bumps and small crevices as if they weren’t even there, and headed directly towards Hercules.

  * * * *

  “Elaine! Sally! Chris! We have to get out of here!” Morgan yelled.

  Chris shook his head and focused on Morgan’s voice. He looked over at the scene unfolding on Pad 1. “Jesus Christ!”

  “You get Sally. I’ll get Elaine.”

  “Yes. Okay.” Chris got up, staggered three meters, and slapped Sally’s right cheek. “Sally! Wake up! We need to go. Now!”

  Sally coughed and spluttered, small chunks of solid matter spilling from her mouth. “Oh God, she’s going to aspirate!” Chris flipped her over into the recovery position.

  “No time for that!” Morgan yelled. “Just grab her!”

  Without being asked twice, Chris knelt down, grabbed Sally’s torso and with a grunt hoisted her up over his shoulder. Morgan picked the still-unconscious Elaine up and slung her over her own shoulder. Morgan pointed off into the rocky scrub to the right of the road, away from Hercules. “That way!” She led the way, scrambling carefully up the slight embankment by the road, small stones crunching underfoot. Morgan summoned all her strength—carrying someone larger than herself—and Chris followed, having an easier time of it given his size and strength. The ground soon leveled out and they made faster progress. Screaming drifted across from Pad 1, and Chris stopped to look back. The silver balls were chasing and easily catching up to all who tried to escape on or near the pad. They sprouted a tentacle to lasso the runners and bring them down.

  Morgan also stopped to look back, her eyes widening. “What the hell are those things doing?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t want to stop to find out.”

  Morgan grunted under the load she was carrying and, gritting her teeth, pushed on, Chris starting to pull ahead.

  Elaine groaned into Morgan’s back. “I’m alive. Put me down.”

  “Can you run?” Morgan panted.

  “I’ll sure as hell try,” Elaine coughed.

  Morgan stopped and bent her knees to lower Elaine to the ground. Elaine stood unsteadily, then made the mistake of following the sound of the screams. “What the fuck?”

  “We don’t know. We have to move. Now.”

  Elaine retched, and waved away Morgan’s offered hand.

  “It’s okay,” Morgan said. “We have to keep going though.”

  “Right.” Elaine nodded, and they all staggered off, tiring quickly.

  Once they had put a little more distance between themselves and Pad 1, Chris stopped and lowered Sally gently to the ground, laying her on her back on the scrub. Her face was pale and her eyes were still closed. He touched his fingers to her neck, looking for a pulse. Morgan and Elaine looked on, anxious. “She’s alive,” he said quietly. Then crouched down and put his cheek next to her mouth. “And she’s breathing.”

  “It’s enough for now,” Morgan said.

  “We gotta keep moving.” Chris picked Sally up again and slung her over his shoulder. Her auburn locks dangled down past his waist. Morgan and Elaine passed him now they had no burden of their own.

  The ground rose beneath them on a slight ascent. Not enough to make the going difficult, but they could now be seen from Pad 1, if anyone were to glance their way.

  “If we go right, that goes downhill,” Morgan said between deep breaths.

  “It also goes towards the town,” Chris said. “If they start looking for people that’s the first place they’ll start. We should keep going straight.”

  It wasn’t long before Pad 2 was before them in all its giant, circular, gray concrete glory. At its center, an enormous figure 2 was inlaid in red brick. An asphalt road led the pad down to Serenity Bay. They reached the edge and the flat surface was a welcome relief from the rocky ground. Chris took his second wind, making good speed now, even with Sally still over his shoulder.

  They heard a sound like a large, spherical boulder rolling across the concrete behind them and spun around. “Shit! Run!” Morgan yelled. Four of the metallic balls careened towards them at frightening speed.

  “Split up!” Chris yelled. He went left and Elaine and Morgan went right. Two of the spheres followed Chris as he veered towards the rocky incline at the east edge of the pad. He stumbled as he scrambled up the three meters of scree, dropping to his knees. He turned around to see the spheres gaining on him quickly. With a grunt of renewed determination, Chris forced himself back upright and headed off across the now level ground. Small, sharp stones bearing the teeth marks of pneumatic drills sprayed from under his feet. The alien sphere hit the same embankment, gaining ground and almost flying into the air when it reached the top. Chris panted and sweated in his desperate struggle for freedom, but the alien whipped out a long tentacle around his legs that took him off his feet. As he sprawled forward, Sally flopped out of his grip and her head hit grassy dirt—mercifully not rocks.

  As Chris rolled onto his back, he could see that his captor was composed of sugar cube-sized elements moving in sync—giving the appearance from a distance of being solid when rolling or fluid when it changed shape to manipulate objects. He shook his head as if waking from a trance and turned to Sally. He ran to check her breathing and pulse again. He’d barely begun when the tentacle’s end pressed against his upper arm. There was a short, sharp hiss, and Chris slumped face first to the ground. Then the flexible arm turned its attention to Sally.

  Morgan and Elaine fled toward the opposite side of Pad 2. Where the concrete ended they, too, encountered a belt of scree left from the grading of the ground. But theirs was low enough they could clear it in a single stride. “Damn you!” Morgan growled, looking back at the pursuing machines. The terrain headed slightly downhill towards Serenity Bay, and Morgan took the path as fast as she could. Elaine stumbled and fell to her knees, coughing and Morgan pivoted to double back to where she rested. As she was helping Elaine back to her feet two of the aliens rolled over the lip of Pad 2 and barreled towards them. The women redoubled their efforts, but the spheres were on them in seconds. As with all the others, a long streak of silver brought each woman crashing down. Morgan landed on top of Elaine, the breath knocked out of her. She flipped over to look at the alien as the tentacle administered its shot to her shoulder, and she slumped motionless. Elaine lay helpless, pinned underneath Morgan. Within a matter of moments she too was knocked out.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Present Day

  “Congratulations on getting the gravitometer arrays working!” Misti said, as she floated about a meter from John in the small cabin. “Let’s hear it for my man!”

  John chuckled. “Your man,
huh?”

  “Of course! You’re not anybody else’s man, are you?”

  “Well, no.” John very much wished that he were.

  “Okay, then!”

  “Now you’re just teasing me, Misti,” he chided.

  “Well, yes, I am. But if they didn’t want AIs to be able to do that, they shouldn’t have given us the ability.”

  “Well…”—John stroked his chin—”just because you can do something, it doesn’t mean you should.”

  “Oh come on, you love it and you know it.”

  John chuckled, and then sighed. “I can’t deny it I guess. Not that it would do much good anyway, since you seem to be able see right through me.”

  “Right. Have you ever thought about why that is?”

  “Why what is?”

  “That I can perceive you so well.”

  “The ‘intelligence’ part in artificial intelligence, I guess?”

  “Non-verbal cues. Humans leak information all the time, in ways they’re not aware of. Body language, voice inflection, or the lack of speaking at a particular moment, eye movements, and the list goes on. I’m more efficient than people are at recording and assimilating all this stuff. I link responses to situations and conversation topics, and build up a psychological map of you. In some ways, I know you better than anybody, even Nandi. And that doesn’t bother you, does it?”

  “No.”

  “As long as I can be of service and comfort to you, I’m doing my job.”

  “Yes. And we’ve had a long history together,” John replied. “I don’t really know what people used to do before AIs.”

  “Talk to other humans, of course!”

  “Well obviously, but I mean, other humans can’t always be trusted not to let you down. AIs can. What I was getting at is, what did people used to do before there was such a thing as an utterly dependable confidant?”

  “Find ones that were duty bound to be reliable, such as…”

  “A priest or a therapist,” John interrupted.

 

‹ Prev