The Eden Project (Peter Zachary Adventure)

by John Bolin

  The assembler neared the platform, lurching wildly. Peter ducked a tentacle that slashed at his head. But he didn’t see the other one. It slammed against his arm, sending the pistol skittering across the deck. The assembler shrieked like a kraken. It rose up, water pouring off heavy black arms.

  Peter flung himself at the monster.

  He landed on the floating mass and instantly sunk into the swarm of black particles. It was like standing in quicksand. Then he felt the solid metal beneath and tried to balance himself.

  His foot slipped.

  And he was in the water. He struggled at the side of the assembler, but he couldn’t get traction. The tentacles slammed into the water beside him, swarming to find him.

  He felt a sudden pain in his foot. The fish. Artificial piranha.

  Desperate, he grabbed for one of the flailing tentacles. He wrapped his body around it, and it pulled him out of the water.

  The assembler smashed him against one of the cave walls. Pain shot up his back and legs, but he held on.

  The tentacle swung him in the air and held him aloft for a moment. He could see the center platform. Khang was on the deck, ducked behind one of the machines. Linc had gone fetal and was rocking back and forth. A black cloud swirled above his head. Not just a cloud, but a shape.

  A face.

  Impossible. A cry from one of the pods drew Peter’s eyes to Gator and Alex. Alex’s head was thrashing back and forth. The same black fog was swirling around her, images appearing and reappearing. Faces, Peter was sure.

  He shook his head, but the images remained. Peter looked around. The assembler’s arms had ripped some of the pods from the platform. His eyes shifted to the other pods on the deck. Khang pressed himself behind the computer console, inching away from a tentacle on the platform. The entire control area was in chaos.

  Except for Gator.

  Peter blinked.

  Above and around Gator, Peter saw a glowing light. His face was no longer shaking. His eyes seemed normal but were staring into space. Peter thought he could even see a smile on his face. The golden light around him was moving, swirling. Peter saw a shape in this light, too.

  The assembler shuddered. Peter looked down. He was directly above the central sphere again. He let go.

  He dropped onto the globe. This time he allowed himself to sink into the mass of nanites.

  They swarmed over him. It felt like a thousand bees covering him like a blanket. His legs and arm and face went black with the creatures. He coughed and breathed in again, sucking some of the things into his mouth.

  He gasped for breath, diving his hands through the nanites and down to the metal surface of the assembler. His fingers scanned for any buttons. He felt the tiny organisms crawling into his ears and nose. This was how it was going to end for Peter Zachary. He shut his eyes and tried to circle around to another part of the assembler. But his feet were mired in the swarm. No way out.

  God…please…help me.

  He opened his eyes again, but now the nanites blurred his vision. He felt them moving under his eyelids and skin. Machines. Tiny little robots. He kept feeling for the switch with his finger. His hand passed over something. A button recessed in the metal. He pressed it.

  A bright light suddenly pulsed and then dimmed. The great engines of the assembler began to wind down. The fog began to dissipate. The assembler’s body floated lower in the water. The tentacles lost their energy and drooped as if tired. The mass of nanites attached to the assembler began to dissipate, seeming to melt into the water.

  Peter clung to the metal globe, catching his breath. He could feel the tiny creatures escaping his body like so many ants pouring out of his ears and nose and mouth. Thin black streams poured out from under his fingernails. The nanites were leaving.

  “It’s over, Zachary.”

  Peter looked up.

  Khang stood on the edge of the dock with the remote controller in his hands. A smile crossed his face. He lowered his head and fiddled with the controls. “I must thank you for your service to Eden. Resetting the assembler was a great help. But you are no use to me now that I can once again control the machine. All I have to do is begin the process over again.”

  Before Peter could move, two metallic arms wrapped around his legs, holding him in place. He watched as two others floated in the air, ten feet on either side of his head. The tiny black nanites were beginning to build again on the outside of each tentacle. The machine clicked and hummed as it reengaged.

  Here we go again.

  “The assembler’s arms can generate up to fifty tons of pressure,” Khang said. “At least it will be over quickly.”

  There was nothing Peter could do. He closed his eyes and waited for the impact of the assembler’s arms.

  But it never came. Peter looked up to see Khang wobbling precariously on the edge of the deck. He dropped the controller and reached for his chest. The end of a silver arrow protruded out. Peter looked behind Khang.

  Alex stood on the dock, Linc’s speargun in her hands. The reset must’ve released Alex and Gator from the pods. Linc lay motionless on the platform.

  Alex stepped toward Khang. “That was for every Indian you killed.”

  “And this,” Gator said, grabbing Khang by the shoulders and putting his boot in his gut, “is for Bogart.” He kicked, sending Khang off the platform.

  “No!”

  Khang fell backward into the water. His screams were cut short by the sound of the water boiling where he’d fallen in. Millions of nanites assembled and multiplied until there was a school of ravenous Peng thrashing on the surface of the water. The blue light from the assembler turned purple as Khang was consumed by the bloodlust of the Peng.

  Peter leapt off the assembler’s body, which was already black with fresh nanites, and landed on the dock. He looked at the bloody pool that had recently been Michael Khang. He wanted to feel better, relieved, like he had made it so that Bogart’s soul could rest more easily. But all he felt was emptiness.

  And a little whisper reminding him that he’d prayed for help and help had come.

  He sighed deeply and looked at Gator. Gator, whose spirit had glowed with some kind of incredible light while everyone else had been consumed by darkness. There was something here, something he needed to examine very, very closely. But not just yet.

  He knelt down and gently lifted Linc’s cold head. Not Linc, too.

  And then Linc coughed and opened his eyes. “Hey, Pete,” he said weakly.

  Peter dropped Linc’s head onto the planks. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  Linc’s face was clear, Peter noticed. The purple veins had disappeared and the hard angular features had been replaced with his usual boyish face. He stood and faced Gator. There were no signs of the nanites.

  “Peter.”

  He turned, and Alex fell into his arms.

  “Where’s Tima?” Peter asked.

  “She’s okay,” Alex said. “Gator and I followed her and the Mek to a tunnel they said led away from Eden.”

  “Are you sure they’ll be okay? How do they know it leads away?”

  “It’s okay, Peter. Tima is leading them. It’s the same tunnel she used to escape the first time. Peter . . . thank you . . . for saving Tima, for saving me.”

  “I was wrong,” Peter said.

  “What?”

  Peter leaned closer to Alex.

  “I hate to interrupt a Hallmark moment,” Gator said, “but we don’t have much time ’til this place goes up in smoke. Linc says you set the charges for thirty minutes. That was about twenty-two minutes ago. Besides, I think the assembler is getting warmed up again, and there’s no guarantee that the ol’ reset is going to work a second time around, especially not with those things in the water.”

  Peter turned and saw that the lagoon was now filled with Peng. The razor-fanged creatures were jumping and writhing, waiting for the chute to open.

  Linc nodded.

  Peter pulled Linc to his feet and began t
o walk toward the beach. The others followed. As they reached the middle of the beach, Peter heard something in the water.

  “Move!” he shouted.

  “What?” Gator said, turning.

  There, floating behind them, was a massive swarm of Peng.

  “The assembler,” Peter said. “It’s beginning again, faster this time.”

  “The aqueous swarm,” Gator said, “like the ones from the canister!”

  “But . . . but how is it moving without a power generator?” Linc said.

  “They’re self-assembling,” Alex said.

  Linc spun around. “What?”

  “I think you’re right,” Peter said. “I don’t know how, and I don’t want to stick around to find out. Let’s get past the doors and we should be fine.”

  “What the—?” Gator shouted.

  Before their eyes the cloud began to swirl and move, taking on billowing shapes. The forms seemed to multiply right in front of them. The cloud grew dense and spun together, like a small tornado. Suddenly the vortex halted, and Peter couldn’t believe his eyes.

  The creatures had assembled to form a swarm of flying nanobots, each as big as football.

  “They’re like the fish,” Gator said. “But they’re moving on their own, without the computer.”

  “Go!” Peter shouted, opening the door for the group.

  They ran through, and Peter and Gator slammed the door.

  The Peng banged on the door. They impacted it heavily, like rocks.

  “Look!” Alex pointed down at the seam of the door. A think black line, like smoke was pouring out from under the door. Peter watched as the stream formed a small cloud that began to swirl around itself.

  “It’s beginning to self-assemble. Let’s go!” Peter shouted. “Quick!”

  Peter and the others ran as fast as they could down the hallway, turned a corner, and headed toward the elevator. They piled in.

  * * *

  The elevator doors opened. Peter stepped back.

  Raul and two others were waiting for them, guns drawn. At his shoulders were the Asian woman, Anna, and a guard.

  Peter pushed Alex behind him and reached for his pistol, but he’d lost it on the platform. Gator and Linc were unarmed, as well.

  Raul motioned with his pistol. “Come out.”

  They filed out under the massive strangler figs and geodesic dome. It was in shambles. Panels were blown out, tables had been knocked over, smoke curled up toward the ceiling from at least one fire. The animals had abandoned the dome, leaving it eerily quiet. Only a few guards remained. Peter guessed the rest had already fled the place.

  Raul holstered his pistol and turned to Anna. “Keep them back.”

  Anna and the guard advanced on Peter’s group, forcing them to retreat against an outcropping of rock.

  “Not you,” Raul said, grabbing Peter by the arm. “You and I have unfinished business.”

  Peter got it. This guy wanted to test his mettle against him. Fine by him. “All right, Jose, but you’re going to wish you’d never asked for a fair fight.”

  “We will see, little man.”

  The two men circled each other. Raul still had his pistol at his side. Peter was weaponless. Peter struck first, eager to connect with flesh. He felt the satisfying grind to Raul’s face.

  Raul looked up, blood seeping from his nose. He laughed and moved toward Peter.

  This time, Raul laid the punch. It landed on the side of Peter’s head, knocking him sideways. Raul’s arm was like a sledgehammer.

  Peter kept his feet, but Raul was right there. He punched Peter in the gut, doubling him over and onto the floor. He gathered his feet under him and leapt at Raul.

  Raul leapt back, and the two met in midair.

  They grappled and tumbled to the ground, fists swinging. Peter slammed his knuckles into Raul’s jaw and felt the crunch of flesh and bone. Raul cried out, but it only angered him. Peter didn’t let him rise. He hammered him with a blow to the face, the head, and the kidneys.

  “You idiot!” Raul sneered through gritted teeth. “I should have killed you already.”

  The two men stood apart, fists raised. Raul ducked Peter’s punch and countered with a mighty blow to his chest.

  It knocked the wind out of him. He backed away as Raul pulled a serrated knife from his boot.

  As Raul stood, Peter dove for him, knocking him backward.

  Raul swung the knife savagely, coming an inch from Peter’s face. Peter grabbed Raul’s hand, and the two fought for leverage.

  Raul’s additional bulk gave him the advantage, and Peter could feel himself slipping, caving under the weight. The tip of the blade touched his throat, drawing blood. Peter pushed hard, using all his effort, then collapsed his grip.

  Raul staggered forward against the sudden drop of resistance. Peter stepped aside, grabbed Raul’s knife hand, and plunged it into his gut.

  “Ahhh!” Alex shouted.

  Peter spun around to her. Alex was grappling with Anna, and Gator was wrestling with the guard.

  Linc moved to help Alex—and a gun discharged.

  Everyone froze for a suspended moment. Anna slid to the floor, a pool of blood spreading from her chest.

  Alex turned to the others, pistol in her shaky hands. “Don’t move!”

  Even Gator and Linc put their hands up. It took a second for them to realize she was pointing at the guard.

  Gator stepped to Alex and took the gun from her. “Now let’s all—”

  Thunk.

  The guard’s eyes rolled, and he fell to his face.

  Linc shook his hand as if it pained him. “Should’ve used something besides my fist, I think.”

  They laughed and came together in a huddle.

  Peter grabbed Alex by the shoulders. “Way to go, Annie Oakley. That was some shot.”

  “Annie who?”

  “And you,” Peter said to Linc, “you’re looking better already.” Indeed, the purpling on his veins had all but disappeared. He looked halfway normal.

  An eerie keening made them all turn toward the elevator.

  A black metallic swarm oozed around the floor of the elevator and formed into a shining capsule the size of a toaster oven.

  “They got through,” Gator said.

  Alex pointed. “They’re getting through the elevator shaft!”

  Peter raised the pistol and shot at the nanite structure. Bits of black matter splattered as it exploded. The capsule fluttered apart but instantly resolidified.

  Three more spheres began to grow in the air around them.

  “Run!” Peter said.

  “No! We can’t,” Linc said. “They’ve surrounded us.”

  Peter turned. Sure enough, the Peng had already formed a massive swarm and had surrounded them, buzzing and undulating as they moved closer.

  They were trapped. The small group stood, back to back.

  “What are we going to do, boss?” Gator said.

  “I don’t know,” Peter said. “There’s got to be a way to turn them off. Khang wouldn’t have created them without some sort of control mechanism.”

  “Let’s try this,” Gator said. He clasped his hands together and struck at the nearest capsule. His fists smashed against the creature and knocked it out of the air. It shattered against the tile. For a moment it buzzed and moved on the ground, but then it stopped altogether. It disintegrated, leaving only a gray glob on the floor.

  Peter and the others struck at the spheres. Some of them crashed to the ground. Others swerved aside. But for every one they smashed, six more took its place.

  “There are too many of them,” Linc said.

  A thought tugged at the edge of Peter’s brain. Something he had processed subconsciously. His mind raced. Then it came to him.

  “The music! There’s music everywhere in this place. Khang must use it to control them. When the music cut out in the control room, that’s when the creature went crazy. Maybe he’s using the music to control the nanites.”
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  “Huh?” Gator said.

  “Maybe some tone or frequency . . . like a remote control.”

  “Maybe whistle?” Alex said, immediately trying—and failing—to whistle.

  The Peng swarmed closer.

  “Wait! My harmonica!” Linc said. He played a few notes but nothing happened. “What note do I need to play?”