A wave of anxiety rushed through Sophie as she attempted to compartmentalize what was happening. With bated breath, she moved back to the monitor. One of the bioluminescent Spiders approached the prisoners. With one swift motion it accosted a woman clutching a child to her chest. She screamed as the alien snatched the child from her arms. It scampered away, and vanished over the hill.
“Sophie!” Overton yelled.
For a moment she stood there. How was this possible? How was any of this possible?
“Goddamn—” Overton began to shout.
Spinning, Sophie narrowed her eyebrows, rage swelling inside her. “Sergeant. Will you please stop yelling? You are not helping our current situation.” She watched the marine’s face glow red with anger. His lips quivered and then he continued yelling.
“I don’t give a fuck! My men are still out there; we have to help them!”
Sophie took a step forward, feeling Emanuel’s hand on her shoulder. “You will not leave this Biosphere unless I authorize it. And right now is not the time for a suicide mission!”
Overton regarded her with a cocked brow. “Sophie, I don’t think you understand what’s at stake here. My men. Those marines,” he said, pointing at the display behind her.
“Oh, I completely understand what’s at stake. The entire Biosphere is at stake. And if you leave, you put us all at risk. So again, I’m telling you to cool it and stand down until I’ve figured out what to do.”
Overton grunted and then snorted, storming out of the room.
Emanuel loosened his grip on Sophie’s shoulder and grabbed her wrist. “It’s okay. Just give him some time.”
Sophie nodded, her face flushed and breathing labored. She watched the sergeant vanish into the next hallway and then turned back to the monitors.
The same Spider from before emerged at the top of the hill overlooking the lakebed. Sophie could feel the tears rising in her eyes as the alien, cradling the small child between its claws, climbed up one of the poles and attached it to the top with bioluminescent webbing.
Sophie forced herself to watch, but was relieved when the Sentinel’s tail whipped into the camera once more, blocking the scene from view. The crunching sound of metal filled the room as the alien crushed the robot and cut off the video feed for good.
* * *
Dr. Holly Brown looked up from her tablet and caught Corporal Bouma staring at her from the kitchen entrance. He glanced away, his cheeks flaring red with embarrassment. She brushed a strand of blond hair behind her ears and cracked a half-smile.
“What are you doing over there?” she called. “Come sit with us.” She smiled and moved over to make room for him. As she scooted her chair, an odd sensation raced through her body.
Was it her nerves?
No. She could control those.
This was something else—something she’d ignored for a long time.
Desire.
She looked up nervously at the marine strolling across the mess hall. His fatigues were snug against his body, highlighting every bit of his muscular chest and arms.
“Holly! Owen won’t let me have the ball,” Jamie yelled. Holly looked away from the marine and watched Owen and Jamie wrestling on the cafeteria floor. David sat on a bench nearby, his older brother, Jeff, by his side, laughing at the other two.
Seeing them reminded her of the role she played in the Biosphere and how it had changed. At first, she only monitored the team’s mental health, and now, on top of that, she was officially the teacher and babysitter. Not that she minded. With a PhD in psychology, she was exactly what the kids needed. Without her, the children would surely suffer from post-traumatic stress.
“All right, kids, time for the first lesson of the day.” She smiled at Bouma, who took a seat at one of the metal tables. Moans filled the cafeteria as the children dragged themselves over reluctantly.
Bouma laughed. “It’s been a while since I was in school.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call this class, but it’s the best we can do for now,” Holly said, turning to the AI interface. “Alexia, let’s start Lesson Three.”
The console glowed to life, and a hologram projected over the table.
“Today we will learn more about early mammals,” Alexia said, her hologram emerging over another console in the corner of the room.
Jeff groaned. “Do I really have to sit through this?”
Holly nodded. “Pay attention.” She watched the image of a saber-toothed cat scroll across the table.
“Historically, it was believed the saber-toothed cat died out from lack of prey. But scientists have unearthed fossil evidence that reveals the true cause of their extinction: climate change,” Alexia narrated.
Holly stared as the cat curled up and wasted away. For a moment, she thought of what an alien narrator might say about the human species someday after unearthing its fossil records. Would they explain how humans had died of the same fate? Would they explain how the Organics had finished what humanity had already started?
She glanced at Bouma. His face was emotionless. He was a marine, after all. The entire reason for his existence was to prevent the same thing from happening to humans that had happened to the saber-toothed cat, to prevent their extinction. But as she studied him—the rifle strapped around his back, the pistol on his hip, and the knife sheathed to his leg—she realized that even brave men like him had little chance of protecting the human race against an invading army like the Organics. Humanity had finally met its match.
CHAPTER 2
EMANUEL swiped his monitor’s touch screen and keyed in several codes. The image of the human farms he’d seen only a few hours before was still burned into his brain, but he shook the image away. He didn’t have time to think about them, not now. Developing a weapon was the only way he could help those people.
Turning from the monitor, he crossed the room and punched a green button on the side of the closest cryo chamber. The lid cracked open, hissing as soft blue light from the bioluminescent remains of the Spiders spread a cool glow over his face. He stared intensely, fascinated by the alien life-form. The Organics’ chemistry was eerily beautiful.
Organics. The name Dr. Hoffman had assigned to the species had been, in Emanuel’s opinion, odd. At least it had seemed so until he had started studying their anatomy. After discovering the true composition of the aliens’ bodies, the name had grown on him.
As a kid he had always wondered what aliens would look like. It wasn’t long before he concluded that they would likely be so vastly different from anything on Earth that even imagining what they looked like was futile. As he got older, their hypothetical appearance was the least interesting part of the equation. He had so many questions. Were they intelligent? What were their bodies made of? Would they communicate telepathically? Would they even communicate at all? He used to wonder if alien life-forms would have a shared conscious; all connected to a central hub, communicating through sonar waves or something similar. But as he examined the creature in front of him, he realized that in some ways, these aliens weren’t that different from species found on Earth. They had a central nervous system, a heart, and a very small brain. They even resembled giant insects.
But there were also significant differences that made the Organics very alien. Preliminary scans of the Spider specimens showed their blood consisted of 80.43 percent H20 and 19.57 percent of a substance similar to plasma. Alexia had concluded the blood had an electrical source, like an internal battery. Emanuel’s job was to figure out what that source was. This was the key to developing a weapon.
The biologist couldn’t help but smile. While the aliens had effectively wiped humans off the top of the food chain, he found their anatomy to be completely fascinating. He wished Sophie would see just how amazing the creatures were.
He dipped into the cryo chamber to retrieve another specimen with a pair of tweezers. Squ
eezing the metal tips together, he pulled a translucent piece of flesh from the container, watching it disintegrate right in front of his eyes.
“Damn,” he muttered. Without their shields, the Organics’ bodies were very fragile. As the skin broke down and dripped around his tweezers in spaghetti strands, he thought back to the first giant squid he had dissected. The composition of its flesh was similar, and the sea creature survived outside of water just about as long as the Organics.
It made sense. After all, humans would die in seconds on other planets. If you took any animal out of its normal habitat, its body would fail very quickly. With their shields, the aliens had found a way to survive in a hostile environment. Kind of like having a space suit, he thought. An electric space suit.
But what was the power source? And how did it work? If he could find a way to shut it off, then maybe, just maybe, he could design a weapon to destroy them.
He discarded the ruined sample and plucked another specimen from a chunk of spider leg before closing the lid. Even with the chamber cooled by carbon dioxide to minus 60 degrees, the fragile samples were quickly breaking down. It wouldn’t be long before they were useless.
Emanuel worked for hours with his right eye pressed against his microscope, performing various tests with different samples. Each test yielded something new, but the most startling discovery was the composition of the Spiders’ bones. They were made of some sort of metal. At first he believed it was tungsten, but how could that be? The only examples of biological tungsten were in certain bacteria—nothing like what he was seeing under the scope.
They are made up of elements that won’t show up on the periodic table from your high school chemistry class.
Dr. Hoffman’s words replayed themselves in Emanuel’s head. It wasn’t surprising that an alien life-form would be made up of foreign elements. Ever since scientists had discovered bacteria that fed off the ocean vents, there had been a growing belief in the scientific community that alien life could survive in habitats previously thought to be unsurvivably hostile.
After performing more tests, he realized the metal was an element unlike any he had ever seen. Its density was about the same as tungsten’s, but its melting point was much lower, at only 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit.
Does the metallic element conduct electricity to power their shields? If so, then what’s the damned source? Emanuel wondered. He was frustrated. Understanding the aliens’ defense system was the key to developing a weapon. He knew the magnetic disturbance outside had something to do with it, but connecting the dots was like putting together a puzzle without all the pieces.
He shook his head, his mind drifting from one idea to the next. With an audible huff, he pressed his eye against the microscope and squinted. Twisting the dial with his right hand, he magnified the specimen several more levels. The sudden thrill of excitement that only a new discovery could generate rushed through him. He was staring at something new—something that didn’t seem to belong.
Could it be?
He manipulated the sample until one of the peppercorn-like clusters came into focus. He leaned back, rubbed his eyes, and then looked back into the scope.
“Alexia, are you seeing this?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
He straightened his back, wondering if he should inform Sophie of the discovery. Not yet, he thought. He needed to know more first.
Transferring the image to the closest screen, he swiveled the display to face him. He ran a hand through his neatly groomed hair and laughed. For weeks he had been looking for the source of the creatures’ defenses, and it had been right in front of him the entire time. It was just too small to see without an electron microscope.
“It’s nanotechnology. Nanobots, if you want to be specific,” he said. “How the hell did we miss this, Alexia?”
“With all due respect, Doctor, there was simply no evidence of nanotechnology in the preliminary samples,” Alexia replied politely.
He waved his hands. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just glad we finally know.”
“Sir?” Alexia asked.
“The source,” Emanuel replied quickly. “The electrical source for their blood. These bots must be electrically charged, and the Organics’ bones conduct the current.” He suddenly paused and pursed his lips, realizing he still didn’t know the third piece to the puzzle.
“But what charges the bots?” he asked aloud.
Alexia’s image transferred to the AI console next to Emanuel. Her face solidified into a translucent blue. Blinking, she said, “The magnetic disturbance, Doctor. I believe it’s the source of everything.”
“That had occurred to me, but I don’t understand how it’s possible.”
“With all due respect, Doctor, two months ago you probably didn’t think floating blue orbs were possible either.”
Emanuel chuckled and looked up at the wall camera. “Since when did you develop a sense of humor?”
“I’m not sure I follow you, Doctor.”
“I was joking,” he replied. Then he snapped his gloves off, placed the sample under one of Alexia’s interface scanners, and said, “Please conduct a full scan of this specimen. I want any data loaded to my tablet as soon as possible.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To grab some coffee,” he replied on his way out of the room.
Alexia’s voice transferred to the com closest to the door. “Wait,” she said.
He turned, wondering what her scans could have found so quickly.
“Doctor Rodriguez,” she said. “Sir, do you realize you have discovered a new element?”
Emanuel smiled broadly. “Indeed I do, Alexia.”
“Traditionally, the scientist who makes the discovery is tasked with creating a name. Have you thought of one yet?”
He paused for a second, considering his options. “I think I’ll call it humanitarium,” he said with a chuckle before heading to the kitchen. “Humanity needs something to call our own.”
By the time Emanuel reached the coffee dispenser, data from the scan was crawling across his tablet. Looking down, he read the first line and almost dropped his cup.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
“Remarkable, isn’t it, Doctor Rodriguez?”
“How?” He felt paralyzed with questions, unsure what to ask first.
“Even though the Organic entity is technically dead, the nanobots inside the bloodstream are still emitting very small traces of electricity. They are much weaker now, and are not able to power the creature’s defenses. But they seem to be searching for something, moving through the bloodstream as if they are trying to connect.”
“Connect to what?”
“To the magnetic disturbance, Doctor.”
“That’s impossible . . .” Emanuel began. With a flick of his index finger, he sent the image to the wall monitor. He stared at the screen intensely, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. A theory was developing in his mind. It would more than likely require a field test, and as much as he hated the idea of running it by Sophie without knowing if it would work, he also knew they were running out of time. The Organics were farming humans—survivors that had lived through the invasion. And he was going to find a way to save them.
* * *
ENTRY 1890
DESIGNEE: AI ALEXIA
Since its collision with the Sentinel’s tail, the video feed from the robot I sent into the field has been fading in and out. While I wait for the feed to clear, I pull up video the drone relayed before the feed was lost. The drone has confirmed the presence of three different alien species. Video 1 shows a dozen of the arachnid-like creatures hunting a deer on the outskirts of Colorado Springs. The animal is severely dehydrated and unable to outrun the creatures.
After a brief struggle, the Spiders overwhelm it and wrap it in a glowing blue web. Moments later the
web pulsates and a blue field surrounds the animal. What happens next is fascinating. The orb fills with liquid, and the carcass inside begins to break down. The time lapse indicates the entire process takes about six hours, at which point one of the harvester Worms slithers through the forest, inhales the orb, and emits a ray of blue mist into the sky.
Another feed shows a pair of Sentinels standing guard over a parking lot full of blue orbs. The Sentinels remain frozen, watching over the field with their reptilian eyes.
The feed from the robot’s camera finally clears, and the image of another parking lot emerges in real time.
If I had been programmed to believe in luck, I would attribute the drone’s survival to it. But luck is a human term, a word made up to illustrate situations where someone or something defies the odds.
Statistically, the drone has already beaten the odds. It has been in the field for a week, and the data it has relayed has taught the team much about the Organics. After studying the creatures for several weeks, I have come to the same conclusions as Dr. Rodriguez. They seem to exhibit behavior similar to that of insects. They work together toward the common goal of finding and processing water. However, the Spiders, Sentinels, and Worms are clearly not creatures capable of interstellar travel. These three species appear to be the workers. Something much more sophisticated must be relaying orders from the safety of spaceships high above, in Earth’s orbit.
I reset the robot’s control system. Then I relay a set of coordinates to the drone’s GPS. The wheels automatically obey, and in less than a second the machine is moving across the parking lot, silently zipping across the blacktop toward a pile of what looks like miniature versions of the deadly orbs. They appear to be eggs of some kind. The drone eases to a stop near one of the eggs to take a sample. It’s a job that requires precision: Cut too deep, and the outer layer is compromised. The robot gently removes a small fragment of the egg’s skin. Then the tiny metal claw retracts and places the specimen into a container in its cargo hold. If I had to use a human term, I would say I am satisfied with the results. The drone has performed its function, and I, in monitoring it, have performed mine.
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