Orbs IV_Exodus_A Post Apocalyptic Science Fiction Survival Thriller

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  “You don’t have to do this,” Holly said.

  Sophie reached out to Hoffman. A few of his integrated compatriots pulled her back. “Don’t make him do this.”

  “It’s entirely his choice,” Hoffman said.

  “I’m ready,” Diego said. Then he willed more confidence into his voice. “I will embrace it.”

  Hoffman continued walking toward the chambers. His posse of Hybrids herded Diego and the others forward.

  “Good,” Hoffman continued. “I’ll do something today that we don’t usually do. I’ll let the others watch you go through the process. Then we can show them that there truly is no harm done. That you are still very much Lieutenant Diego.” Hoffman walked up to one of the empty chambers. The spiders next to it backed away, and he climbed a short staircase to a platform above it. “Lieutenant, if you’ll follow me.”

  The weight of dread grew heavier over Diego’s shoulders with each step he took. As he drew closer to Hoffman, the scientist continued his explanation of the events to come.

  “We’ve received a relatively steady stream of men and women who escaped Earth, like yourselves,” he said. “We don’t have time to waste proving our worth to the Organics, so I give them a choice: Join us, or try your hand at freedom.”

  “For some reason, I don’t think freedom means what they think it does,” Bouma said. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Hoffman let out a sigh through his slit-like nostrils. “I give them total freedom. They’re allowed to walk out of here.”

  “But the catch?” Diego asked.

  “The Organics also have the freedom to stop them.”

  Diego looked at the other side of the vast space. It was filled with blue orbs. Each contained a person, and they were all in various states of desiccation. He noticed Sophie looking at Emanuel. They looked to Diego as if they might make a run for it. He hoped for their sakes that they didn’t.

  But he supposed that shouldn’t be his concern anymore. His life was about change irreversibly, and there would be no turning back.

  Hoffman tapped on a touchpad, and the hatch on top of the cylinder hissed open. “When you get in, the nanobots will immediately begin the remodeling process. You will not be able to stop the process once it initiates.”

  Diego glanced at the other chambers. Within them, the people were still flailing and screaming their silent screams as the swarms of nanobots coursed over their reddened flesh.

  “This is your last chance to change your mind,” Hoffman said.

  The blue glint of the orbs on the other side of the space caught Diego’s eyes. It was far better to end up an integrated human like Hoffman than a prisoner who was slowly turned into a mummy while still alive. His decision was already made.

  “I am not changing my mind,” Diego said.

  “Good.” Without warning, Hoffman shoved him into the chamber.

  The hatch above him closed.

  Diego opened his eyes in the crimson liquid. The fluid was heavy and viscous, like oil. He tried to hold his breath while he waited for something to happen. Oxygen deprivation ate at his consciousness, and darkness encroached on his vision. His eyes felt ready to pop from their sockets. Eventually, his survival instincts kicked in, and he couldn’t help but inhale. When he did, the liquid filled his lungs. He coughed at first. The last of the air in his lungs bubbled out from his lips.

  When he recovered from coughing, he was still conscious. His brain no longer burned. He took in another breath. Whatever this liquid was, he could actually breathe it. His mind started to relax, and so did his body. This wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. Maybe, with the discipline ingrained in him from decades serving the NTC in the claustrophobic confines of the GOA, he could handle a couple of hours stuck in a cramped tube like this.

  He let his fingers splay, and he embraced the liquid’s warmth. Another long breath escaped him. He felt almost relaxed.

  At that moment, the nanobots took over. They swirled over his body, cutting like a billion tiny knives. Every microscopic cut burned with the intensity of a thousand suns. They drilled into his eyes and tunneled through his flesh, finding their homes in his muscles and nerves and blood vessels. Everywhere they went, they scorched the cells. Lightning cut through his nerves. Pulse round shots and broken bones were like massages compared to the meteor shower battering his body now.

  He wanted to pass out. He wanted to let unconsciousness take him away from this insane world.

  He wanted to die.

  Anything to stop the torture.

  But, just as Hoffman had promised, unconsciousness never came. There was no relief. No escape.

  Only sheer agony.

  — 22 —

  Bouma wanted to vomit. He watched as Diego twisted and turned within the chamber. The nanobots coalesced into long, tendril-like formations as they bored into the soldier’s body. For a second, he forgot about his throbbing, wounded wrist. The procedure looked as if it would kill the man.

  Next to Holly, both Jamie and Owen had their faces buried in her suit. They refused to watch the horror of Diego’s mutation. Bouma wanted so desperately to grab Holly’s hand too. The Hybrids raised their rifles every time he so much as lifted a finger. He couldn’t move from where he stood. All he could do was watch.

  He had seen plenty of people die in his service with the NTC. Most of them went quickly, even when they were torn to shreds by a Sentinel or spider. Those deaths had been grisly enough, but they were nothing compared to the abominable procedure taking Diego apart and then stitching him back together.

  “I can’t believe he’s joining them,” Emanuel whispered.

  Bouma’s fingers itched for a weapon. There was nothing within range. Everything they’d brought had already been confiscated. He eyed the rifles the Hybrids carried. Each time their fingers touched the handles, a ripple of blue light spread. Bouma guessed the hypnotizing display wasn’t just for aesthetics. In all likelihood, it was the same technology that had prevented them from taking off in the Primitive Transport back aboard the Secundo Casu. The rifles wouldn’t work unless the user had both human and Organic genetic material.

  Holly looked at him, her eyes pleading. Bouma couldn’t let her turn into an abomination like Diego.

  His mind whirled for the entire two hours while they were forced to witness Diego’s tumultuous transformation. There had to be some way out of this. He counted at least three dozen spiders in the space, guarding lines of humans waiting to be dumped into the integration tanks or turned into orbs. Some of the humans pleaded for another choice. Most were deposited into the tanks, even as they struggled at the last minute when they saw the pain their comrades endured. Others took their chances at trying to run. Maybe they thought they would somehow be the lucky ones to make it back to whatever ship they’d arrived on.

  Bouma had no illusions about what happened to them when they left the main integration room. Every once in a while, a distant scream reverberated from somewhere else in the building, affirming Bouma’s darkest suspicions. As more orbs piled up at the opposite end of the room and more humans were deposited into the integration chambers, it appeared the last remnants of human life were being destroyed in this very room.

  Maybe Diego was right. Maybe their only option really was to submit to the Organics and follow Hoffman’s path.

  The thought left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

  To submit to the Organics was to serve them as slaves. Even if they proved their utility, they would never be treated as equals, nor would they be allowed to carry out their own lives, free of the shackles the Organics would have on them. They would be tools, just like the spiders. Grunts in the Organics’ conquest to destroy all species that stood in their way.

  Bouma looked hard at one of the integrated humans staring at him. “You really believe this is the only way?”

  The Hybrid merely gazed back, his eyes narrowed to slits and his dried lips pulled tightly shut.

  “All this bullshit about securing ou
r future through the Organics,” Bouma said. He wondered if Hoffman was blowing hot air, or if there was still a very human mind behind the crustacean mask. “You think you’re protecting yourself? As soon as they find another species they like, they’ll dispose of you like you’re nothing but a bunch of rotten fish.”

  The Hybrid shifted slightly, but still said nothing.

  “Look at what you’ve become,” Bouma said, still whispering, trying for this Hail Mary. By some miracle of God, if he could just convince a couple of these people, maybe they stood a chance at escaping this place. In his mind’s eye, he saw the shipyard outside. All the raw firepower there, just waiting to be tapped. “You can still make a difference. You can still hurt the Organics and save these people. You don’t have to be their pawn.”

  There was a glimmer of something in the Hybrid’s eye. He lowered his rifle slightly, a nearly imperceptible adjustment. But Bouma had been watching, and he pressed his luck.

  “Look, I can’t imagine you all want to be the Organics’ slaves. You’ve gone through this process, and now you’re going to let the Organics do this to kids, too? There’s got to be something left in you, some shred of humanity. You can do something about this. You don’t have to be an Organic stooge.”

  “Quiet!” the Hybrid hissed. He stepped closer and bashed Bouma in the stomach with the butt of his rifle.

  The air escaped Bouma’s lungs, and hot pain lanced through his abdomen. He gasped for breath, but never took his eyes off the Hybrid’s.

  When he recovered, he started again. “You son of a—”

  The Hybrid bashed him again, this time catching his jaw. A coppery taste danced over his tongue. He spat a glob of bloody saliva that landed at the Hybrid’s boots.

  He was preparing to protest again when Diego’s chamber finally hissed open.

  Hoffman stood above the hatch like he’d just won a marathon. “Rise, Lieutenant, and take your first step into our future.”

  Crimson fluid sluiced off the spikes and plates covering Diego’s new body as he pulled himself out of the chamber. His eyes were as red as the liquid, and he gasped for breath. Ropey muscles coursed up and down his elongated limbs. A pale shade of blue tinged his skin. He looked around at Sophie and Emanuel, then Holly and Bouma.

  Hoffman moved closer to Diego. “Tell them, do you still feel like you?”

  “I…I think so,” Diego said. His voice rumbled in a richer baritone than it had been before, but it sounded strikingly familiar. He flexed his muscles, and Bouma watched a demonic grin spread over Diego’s face.

  “See?” Hoffman said. “Sophie, now it’s your turn. You’re already halfway there with the nanobots. Lieutenant Diego survived. You will, too. And with you, Dr. Rodriquez, and Dr. Brown, think about all we can accomplish together. Out of all the biospheres we left on Earth, you survived the longest. You proved yourselves capable over and over. The Organics notice things like that, and I think I can make a much stronger case for our continued existence with you three on my side. So, Dr. Winston, what do you say?”

  Hoffman stretched out a clawed hand toward her from atop his perch next to Diego’s integration chamber.

  “Screw you,” Sophie said.

  Bouma tensed, sensing a confrontation as a few of the Hybrids closed in around Sophie.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Winston? Perhaps you’ll reconsider?” Hoffman said.

  “The hell with that,” Sophie said. “Even if you force me into that chamber, I will not work for the Organics.”

  Hoffman shrugged. “If you won’t comply, I can make you see things my way. A little dip in here, and the nanobots will ensure your thoughts are in tune with our own.” He signaled to the integrated humans around Sophie. “Dr. Winston, I’ll ask you one more time. You can choose to do this on your own, or we can do this for you. I’d prefer we started on good terms, because a complete neurological reprogramming is dangerous. I wouldn’t want anything to compromise your intellect.”

  “What happened to giving us the choice of freedom?” Sophie asked.

  “You are too valuable,” Hoffman said. “So your choices are going to be limited.”

  “Then my answer remains the same,” Sophie said. “Screw you.”

  Bouma stared hard at Hoffman. Now, more than ever, he wanted a weapon. Anything. A baseball bat, even. He’d beat the carapace right off that humanoid, arrogant crab.

  Then he saw Diego staring at him. He raised a single brow, and Diego winked back. Bouma knew it was on.

  Diego swept Hoffman off his feet and grabbed the rifle that had been strapped around the scientist’s back. He tried to aim the rifle at Hoffman, but Hoffman rolled off the platform and disappeared between the integration chambers. A few nearby spiders screeched and ran toward them. Diego was already moving, leveling gunfire into the oncoming spiders.

  Bouma saw his chance. The Hybrid who’d been guarding him raised his rifle. Bouma started to duck, but the man twisted and began firing into the spiders.

  “That’s fucking right!” he yelled.

  The little pep talk had apparently worked.

  But one of the other nearby Hybrids hadn’t been convinced by Bouma’s pleas. The Hybrid started to squeeze his trigger. Bouma went into a roll and knocked the half-man, half-alien off his feet. He snatched the rifle from the man’s splayed fingers. Testing the weapon, Bouma squeezed the trigger. As he’d suspected, the rifle did nothing. In a normal human’s hands, it was nothing but deadweight.

  But in a soldier’s hands, it was still a weapon. He spun on the Hybrid who’d attacked him and smashed the half-human’s face. The impact was met with the sickening crunch of bone. Another two strikes, and the Hybrid became nothing but a mess of twitching limbs. The Hybrid that had changed his allegiances managed to wrangle a few more of the integrated people to their side. It was difficult to tell which of the half-humans were on their side, but Bouma would let them sort things out on their own.

  He ran to Holly first. She was crouched with the children, hiding behind one of the integration chambers.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “What the hell is the plan now?” she asked, holding Jamie and Owen close.

  “Survive. Come on, follow me.”

  He led Holly between the integration chambers. The screams of spiders and Hybrids cried out everywhere. Pulse fire flew in waves. Rounds lanced through several of the integration chambers. Glass fractured and broke, and integration chambers spewed out their liquid. Half-mutated people flopped out like undeveloped chicken embryos from broken eggs. The grisly sight tugged at Bouma’s stomach, but he tried his best to ignore it.

  As they skirted through the shadows, they ran into other humans who had been waiting in line, ready to be dunked into the integration chambers. Bouma picked up a woman in her forties, long-hair tied back into a ragged ponytail. He brought her to her feet, and she started running on her own. Then he helped a man who looked like he’d once been an athlete, but had since let his paunch grow wider than his pecs. One by one, he picked up the stragglers, adopting the role of a shepherd leading his flock to safety.

  And if he was a shepherd, these Organic bastards had to be the most rabid pack of wolves he had ever had to fend off. One of the Hybrids threw themselves at the group, striking out of the darkness. She wrapped her claws around the former athlete he’d just rescued and dragged the bleeding man back toward the open integration tanks.

  “Keep them moving toward the exit!” Bouma said to Holly.

  “What then?”

  “We’ll figure it out!”

  He ran from her and attacked the Hybrid with the stock of his useless rifle. Over and over, he slammed it into her until her nose was a bleeding wreck. She dropped the man she’d taken and swung her rifle up to fire.

  Bouma tried to knock the rifle out of her hand, but she parried his strike. Blow after blow, she defended against his attacks, laughing as she did so. This was like a game to her. Adrenaline tore through his already ragged blood vessels, and he drew on
the last bits of strength he had, trying to take her down.

  Chaos raged inside the room. More integration tanks spilled their cargo. The screams of humans and aliens alike rent the air.

  Bouma struggled to catch his breath as the Hybrid countered his attacks. Now she laid the pressure on him, each blow sending tremors through his bones like a baseball hitting an aluminum bat. Fresh pain came with each of those impacts, and his wounded wrist felt like it was on fire. His bones wouldn’t be able to take much more. Soon they’d be fractured like all the glass shards lying around their feet.

  Then a flurry of pulse rounds blasted through the air from his right. They cut into the Hybrid, turning her torso and face into ragged strands of singed flesh. She crumpled to the ground.

  “Bouma!” a voice called.

  He twisted to see Diego running toward him, Sophie and Emanuel trailing him. Each looked bruised and bloodied, but they could still stand and run on their own.

  “What the hell was all this about?” Bouma asked, gesturing to Diego’s Organic armor.

  “I’m giving us a chance,” Diego said. “The only way we’re getting out of here is if there’s an Organic on our side. Now there is. I can control their equipment, their weapons. Their ships.”

  The weight of Diego’s words hit Bouma like a pulse round to the face. He had sacrificed his humanity for the sake of the rest of the crew. Or had he?

  “We need to get you to the shipyard,” Emanuel said.

  Another Hybrid charged. Diego spun and aimed at the half-human, but the Hybrid raised his hands instead.

  “We’re getting out of here!” the Hybrid said. “I’m not taking this shit anymore!”

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Bouma said. He waved the Hybrid toward them. Any reinforcements were welcome now.

  The Hybrid had almost reached them when a ground-shaking roar erupted to his right. A huge reptilian claw swiped him off his feet, and his body careened into the wall, breaking into bloody pieces. A Sentinel took the place of the Hybrid, baring a mouthful of dagger-like teeth at those trying to escape.