The Orbs Omnibus

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  * * *

  Lieutenant Smith heard the voices, but she couldn’t move. A powerful force had taken control of her, paralyzing her body. The sensation felt stronger than any she’d experienced before. She could feel it moving through her veins. As though another life force had possessed her.

  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember much of anything. She didn’t know her name or where she was born, or even her age. There were a few things she could recall: the metal rods, the people above and below her, the feeling of a shared consciousness, and the black ships with their cargo of thousands of glowing orbs.

  As she lay there she began to remember other things, too. The shifting aliens. The faceless demons that had shown her things. The past. Maybe the future. Yet she felt no fear. The memories sparked no emotion at all.

  The sound of voices distracted her. Who were they? She’d heard the names Sophie and Emanuel. There was some Alexia, too, but she sounded distant, robotic. Not human.

  She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were too heavy.

  “Smith’s infection should respond to these antibiotics within a couple of hours,” a female voice said.

  “Alexia, keep an eye on her,” a male voice said.

  “Yes, Doctor,” the robotic voice replied.

  Was she Smith? If so, what was she infected with? She struggled, fighting desperately to open her eyes.

  The voices faded, replaced by the sound of footsteps. Then the metallic click of a locking door, followed by the sensation of an even deeper darkness as the lights clicked off.

  She was alone.

  A sudden current of electricity jolted her. Her veins burned. Within seconds the fire had spread through her entire body. The agony was overwhelming.

  But still she felt no fear. Only pain.

  Her eyes snapped open and adjusted to the darkness. She was in a small medical ward, with a pair of what looked like cryo chambers, a wall lined with computer monitors, and an AI console. She concentrated on the device. She tried to move her eyes, to see what else was in the room, but she couldn’t control her focus. Whatever had possessed her had fixated on the AI interface.

  Pain erupted inside her skull, like a bomb had exploded behind her eyes. The current surged through her body, and she slowly slipped into darkness. Inside her brain, billions of tiny alien nanobots had finally taken control.

  CHAPTER 9

  T19 cut the cloudless sky in half, leaving a nearly invisible trail of exhaust. The pilot, a man everyone on the GOA simply called Kirt, maneuvered a joystick in front of his triple monitor display from eight hundred feet beneath the surface of the Pacific. He twisted the controls to the right and the drone dipped, descending one thousand feet. Below, the once seemingly infinite ocean swirled with violent whitecaps.

  Captain Noble stood behind Kirt, supervising the flight. Typically he wouldn’t micromanage a drone mission, but this was different—this mission could change everything. If there were people at Offutt, especially if they were military, then perhaps they would have additional allies to fight the Organics.

  The bot, equipped with an arsenal of cameras, was just minutes away from the coast of California. If Lolo’s data was correct, then they were about to see the largest gathering of aliens yet.

  It was.

  “My God,” Noble said, inching closer to the monitor.

  Sensing his presence, Kirt said, “Sir, should I change course?”

  “And go where?”

  Ashore, the aliens emitted a glow that lit the beach up like a power plant gone nuclear. The command center on the GOA was dark, and the monitor seemed to take on a life of its own as the drone raced closer to the shoreline.

  In the background, Irene’s Russian accent filled the room. “The reverse magnetic pulse will disguise the drone on the flyover.”

  “You better be right,” Noble replied.

  He held his breath as the T19 zipped over the aliens. He imagined the Spiders watching the drone streak above them, their claws tearing through the air as they reached toward the sky. But the drone passed over without incident, the bioluminescent light slowly fading behind its rear cameras.

  Noble reached forward to pat Kirt on the back. “Good job.” Before the captain could take another breath, he saw them.

  On the horizon, three alien drones climbed the ruined Los Angeles skyline.

  Kirt responded by jerking the cyclic hard to the left.

  “Incoming,” Irene said. “Calculating trajectory.”

  Noble braced his hand on the back of Kirt’s chair.

  “Drones are heading west at a speed of 1,555 miles per hour,” Irene said.

  “Jesus, that’s fast,” Noble replied. “What’s their course?”

  “They appear to be heading right for the T19,” she replied.

  “Evasive measures,” Noble said.

  The NTC drone nosedived into the city, maneuvering between collapsed buildings with the agility of a fighter jet. But the alien drones were twice as fast. They split up, two of them dropping behind the T19 while the third scouted from above.

  “You see him? You see him?” Kirt repeated.

  “Two are on your six. Third is somewhere above you,” Irene said.

  “I know!” Kirt yelled. “But where?” His fingers pressed the controls like a madman playing the piano. The click of buttons echoed through the room.

  Noble tightened his grip on the chair. His knuckles burned white, but he didn’t seem to notice. The images of the ruined city held a grim allure. He’d seen snapshots of other metropolitan areas in the images Lolo had transmitted. But nothing quite like what he was seeing now.

  The derelict cities of man were already vanishing. The dust storms and heat were reducing the marvels of human civilization to dust one inch of concrete at a time.

  With the drones closing in fast, Noble leaned over Kirt’s shoulder and said, “Get her out of there!”

  “Working on it, sir,” Kirt replied.

  He pulled the stick to the right and eased off the gas by clicking one of the buttons marked Engine 1. The drone turned and cut under a sagging bridge, rolling so the entire command center could see the dry lake beneath.

  The alien drones were in close pursuit, tearing through the skeletal remains of the bridge.

  “I can’t fucking shake them,” Kirt said. He tried another move, aiming the drone straight for a skyscraper. “Gonna be close,” he said. Kirt licked his lips and then violently clicked the engine buttons. The drone jerked forward and the building ahead rushed toward them on the display in a blur of metal and glass.

  “Collision imminent, take evasive measures,” Irene warned.

  Noble closed his eyes when he realized what Kirt had in mind. He cracked one of his eyelids open just as the drone crashed through the middle of the building. It exploded out the other side a second later, raining glass on the street below.

  Its rear cameras captured the larger alien crafts attempting to compensate at the last second. They rotated to slip through the broken glass, but they were too wide. They both smashed into the metal frame of the building, skidding halfway across the floor before wedging to a stop.

  The growing crowd of NTC staffers in the command center cheered.

  “Nice work!” Noble said.

  “We aren’t out of this yet,” Kirt replied. “Irene, do you have a location on the third drone?”

  “Working.”

  Noble saw it first. The other drone hovered above one of the adjacent buildings, waiting like a hawk perched on a post. It burst forward as the NTC drone shot out into the open.

  “Incoming!” Noble said, pointing at the blur of blue diving toward the bot.

  Kirt quickly hammered down on one of the buttons with his index finger. The machine braked hard, two of the three engines shutting off as it passed over a city park that wa
s covered in dust.

  The alien craft overshot its trajectory and crashed into the ground. A cloud of debris mushroomed into the sky on impact.

  Kirt pulled his finger off the button and then typed in a command on his keyboard. But the drone didn’t respond. It puttered forward, wobbling as it flew on one engine.

  “Shit. Looks like we lost Engine 1. Irene, give me a diagnostic report,” Kirt said. He pushed the other buttons frantically and steadied the joystick.

  “Engine 2 at fifty percent. Engine 1 is fried, sir.”

  “Revert all power to Engines 2 and 3, Irene,” Kirt said.

  Moments later, Kirt had stabilized the T19. He changed course, pulling the cyclic upward and flying the drone at a forty-five-degree angle up into the sky and away from the city.

  Kirt wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced over his shoulder. “That was damned close, sir.”

  Noble patted him on the shoulder. “Nice flying, son.” He looked toward the exit and ran a hand over his bald head. “Let me know when you get to Offutt. I need a shot of whiskey.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Kirt said without taking his eyes off the displays.

  * * *

  Biome 1 felt sticky, the humidity lingering in the air. Holly wiped the sweat off her forehead and reconsidered her walk with Bouma. But where else could they go? The other Biomes were teeming with activity.

  Grabbing his hand, she slipped off the platform and landed in the soft dirt.

  “How long do we have?” Bouma asked.

  “About as long as it takes Emanuel to get bored with babysitting Owen and Jamie,” she laughed. “So I’d say maybe fifteen minutes. If we’re lucky.”

  She felt his grip tighten and pulled him deeper among the cornstalks. For the past several days she’d spent every waking second that she could with the marine. He’d made her feel something she’d run from her entire life. As a psychologist, she had overanalyzed her emotions, built up walls against them. And now, at the end of the world, she’d finally dropped that wall and found what she’d always protected herself against.

  Looking around her, she knew how lucky they were. Protected by the Biosphere, they lived in relative luxury. They had food, water, shelter—all things she’d taken for granted in the past.

  But Holly knew how fragile their fishbowl was. Heck, that’s one reason she’d never allowed herself to completely commit to someone in the past: life was fragile. Even before the apocalypse.

  “Do you ever think about your family?” Bouma asked.

  The question took Holly by surprise, and she turned to face him. “I’ve kind of accepted the fact that they’re dead now,” she said. “What about you? I’ve never heard you talk about them.”

  He kicked the dirt nervously. “I know I’ll see my family again.”

  “You think they may have survived?”

  Bouma shook his head and reached into his breast pocket. He removed a gold chain and handed it to her. The cross sparkled under the LEDs as the links unspooled in her palm.

  “You’re a Christian?”

  He nodded.

  “Me too.”

  “Another thing we have in common,” he said with a half smile that covered his teeth.

  “It’s been hard, though.” She paused to consider her words. She didn’t want to offend him, but she had to admit the truth. “The invasion. The apocalypse. It’s all tested my faith. I never thought it would happen like this. It’s not supposed to happen like this.”

  “It’s not our place to question God’s plan.”

  “I know,” she replied. “But when overgrown insects are trying to spin me into an orb, I have to at least wonder.” She smiled. “Don’t you?”

  “I haven’t really had the time to think much about it, to be honest. That’s what faith is, I guess.” He chipped away at a small mound of dirt with his boot.

  “You’re right. That’s exactly what faith is.”

  She held the necklace out to him, but he cupped his hand over hers and pushed it back toward her. “No,” he said firmly. “I want you to keep it.”

  “I can’t, Chad,” she said.

  “Why not? Maybe it will help you remember your faith,” he replied.

  The cross lay in her palm, glistening under the lights.

  Bouma saw her looking at it and said, “Here, let me.” He unfastened the clasp and stepped behind her, draping the chain around her neck.

  “Now you won’t ever forget me,” he chuckled. “Not if you’re wearing this.”

  The weight of the symbol on her chest prompted a sudden flood of emotions. She felt a tear welling up in her right eye.

  His smile faded into concern. “Are you okay?”

  With a nod she wiped the tear away and caught his gaze. “Thank you, Chad.”

  He smiled. “I love you, Doctor Brown.”

  “I love you, too,” she replied, reaching out and wrapping her arms around him. “Promise me something.”

  He looked down at her. “What?”

  “Promise me you won’t ever leave us.”

  “Holly,” he said, leaning in closer. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

  An inhuman shriek interrupted their quiet moment together.

  Holly and Bouma both looked at the door to Biome 1, just as Jeff burst through.

  “Come! Come quick!” he yelled. The boy was bent over, panting, his hands on his knees.

  “What’s wrong?” Bouma asked. He was already moving, pulling Holly through the field.

  “It’s Sophie. She’s gone crazy!”

  * * *

  The GOA turned sharply. Noble braced himself against his desk and then stumbled over to the monitor with a bottle of whiskey still in his right hand.

  As soon as he saw his XO’s face, he knew something was wrong. The man wore a frightened look. The last time Noble had seen it, they’d discovered the X-9.

  “What the hell was that, Richards?”

  “Sir, Athena has detected strong currents approximately fifty nautical miles out.”

  The captain frowned. “That’s why you just about broke my last bottle of whiskey?” He had been expecting to learn they were about to be devoured by an alien sea monster. “We’ve been experiencing stronger currents than normal for a while now. I’m not sure I understand what the problem is.”

  “Sir, we don’t know for sure, but—”

  “What?”

  “Irene believes the increased current marks one of their processing stations.”

  The captain slid the bottle of liquor from view and furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, processing stations?”

  “Their water collection ships, sir,” he replied. “Irene believes we are coming up on a cluster of them. We haven’t been able to confirm this yet, though.”

  “Aye aye,” Noble said. He scratched his chin. Like the dust storms sweeping the world, he’d seen only satellite images of the water collection ships.

  “Richards, will we be safe where we are? I don’t want to risk drawing the aliens’ attention.”

  “We’ve managed this long, sir.”

  The Captain slowly sat in his chair, using the moment to think. Anything he could learn from the Organics could help them win the war, even if it meant getting close to one of the collector ships. Humanity would have to be bold to win the war, and being bold meant using every resource at their disposal. The GOA had one of the most powerful nuclear-operated engines of any submarine ever designed, and he was confident they could get close without falling into harm’s way.

  “All right, Richards, steady as she goes.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Plucking the whiskey bottle off his desk, he leaned forward to pour himself a drink. Just one, he thought. One wasn’t going to affect his judgment.

  The liquor churned as i
t filled the glass. In the middle of the glass he noticed a small black fleck. Dirt maybe. He looked closer, holding the glass under the lights. Sure enough, a fragment of grime swirled around in the middle.

  Noble wasn’t a superstitious man, but something about the image gave him the chills. He found himself imagining the GOA as the black dot in his glass, and the liquor as the ocean.

  Was it a sign?

  He shook his head.

  No. Not a chance.

  The juxtaposition was just a coincidence. Still, he questioned his orders to recon the water collection ships. This wasn’t the first time in his career that he had a bad feeling about his orders. It was part of being a leader. His father had taught him this valuable lesson years ago.

  You will question orders before and after you give them, son. But never back down unless you are certain your first instinct is wrong, he would say.

  Only this time, Noble wasn’t sure what his gut was telling him.

  * * *

  Sophie shook Lieutenant Smith as hard as she could, but the marine would not wake up.

  “Sophie, stop it!” someone yelled.

  Sophie felt the person’s hands before she placed the voice. They were strong, and they were tightening around Sophie’s waist like a vise. She let out a breath that sounded like a woof, but she would not be deterred. She had to know what the marine saw. She shook the woman harder.

  “Tell me what you saw!” she shouted.

  The hands around her torso dug deeper. “Stop!” Emanuel shouted. “You’re going to hurt her.”

  Sophie felt more hands. Now they were pulling her back. But her resolve grew stronger. The pain in her head would not go away. She had to know what Smith saw.

  The ache had started hours before just behind her eyes and settled there, intensifying until it had become nearly incapacitating. And the humming. It felt like a beehive had taken up residence in her skull.

  She’d been mostly coherent up until now, but her thoughts had quickly become a jumbled mess of memories and questions. Sophie no longer felt in control of her body.