The Orbs Omnibus

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

“David. Wake up.”

  The small boy stirred and sat up.

  “I can’t see anything,” David said. “Where are you?”

  Jeff grabbed a flashlight off his bedside table and clicked it on. A beam cut through the darkness. He focused the light on the floor so David could see and then said, “Come here.”

  Together the two snuck past the sleeping marines.

  “Why’s it so dark?” David asked.

  Jeff shook his head and swept the light across the hallway. “I don’t know, bud, but I think we should wake the others.”

  “What’s going on?” Bouma said from behind them.

  Jeff moved back into the doorway. “I’m not sure, but you guys better get up. Something’s not right. Something’s not right at all.”

  * * *

  Smith walked out onto the tarmac, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the moonlight. Beyond the valley, the skyscrapers of some city dotted the skyline. Below, a blue mist moved between buildings. Crawling through the streets were thousands of alien creatures moving west, their shrieks tearing through the night.

  The sound filled her with great satisfaction.

  Smith stood there, her back stiff and her bony arms at her sides, and watched a pack of the Spiders veer off from the main herd. They scampered up a hill, their high joints clicking as their claws dug into the dry earth and kicked up small dust clouds. A larger creature with a reptilian tail followed them as they climbed.

  Behind her, the wind whistled past the biosphere’s entrance. She’d rerouted auxiliary power to the hydraulic system, effectively opening the blast doors. The pack of aliens could easily access the facility now.

  She felt the same satisfaction that the shrieks gave her when she saw the first Spider jump onto the tarmac. Tilting its head, the creature watched her. Smith mimicked the movement. The alien responded by opening its mandibles and releasing one of its musical shrieks. Then it moved on.

  Smith smiled.

  The other Organics ignored her as well, crossing the tarmac and entering the tunnels that led to the biosphere.

  She watched their blue glow fade in the tunnel; and then turned to the main herd working its way through the city, waiting for whatever reward came next.

  The wait wasn’t long. When the last of the aliens had disappeared over the horizon, an intense wave of energy jolted through her body. Smith twisted, jerked, and shook violently; foam bubbled from her mouth.

  The alien nanotechnology in her bloodstream silently self-destructed, exploding in microscopic bursts. In seconds it was over. She collapsed to the ground dead, her eyes open, staring over the horizon—her smile still streaking across her face.

  CHAPTER 15

  BLAKE Ort rolled his right sleeve up just shy of the bandage wrapped around his elbow. Then, with careful precision, he folded the cuff neatly over the dressing. He winced as another wave of pain ran down his arm.

  Behind him a team of maintenance workers hustled to clear the wreckage of the destroyed vehicles littered across the floor. The crew, all dressed in light red coveralls, reminded Ort of fire ants, working together toward one common goal.

  He watched one of the older guys pulling a long rotor across the ground. The man stopped to wipe the sweat off his forehead and then continued, panting as he hauled it to a pile at the far end of the room.

  Cursing, Ort returned to his work. He dropped to one knee and then to his stomach, crawling under the belly of the last intact drone. The yellow hazard lights blinking on the cargo bay floor gave him enough light to see what he was after.

  Hanging from the bottom of the craft by two metal straps was the new and improved RVAMP, enclosed in a metal case that made it look kind of like a robotic egg.

  He squirmed closer to the weapon. Reaching up with a drill, he loosened the bolts. Then, very carefully, he snapped open the latch on the case and pulled the weapon out with both hands. For a moment he held it there like a trophy, before wiggling out from under the drone with the device tucked against his chest.

  Cupping the RVAMP carefully in his hands, he stood and looked at the drone’s sleek profile. The small but powerful weapon he held could change the course of the war. The problem was finding a way to deliver the payload.

  Noble’s decision to send their last remaining drone to Cheyenne Mountain seemed even crazier now. An inane misuse of a precious resource, Ort thought, grunting as he placed the RVAMP on a table.

  He’d always liked the captain, but like most of the crew, Ort knew the team at the Biosphere were all likely dead. Even if they weren’t dead, how would sending the GOA’s one remaining drone help improve their situation?

  Ort shook his head. He didn’t know what it was like to command a crew of one hundred men and women—especially during a time of war or, in their case, the end of the world. But the captain had led them this far without getting them all killed. He would give the man the benefit of the doubt, even if the plan sounded mad.

  The engineer hurried to the single monitor over a community desk. “Irene, online.”

  The AI’s face flickered over the console to the right of the display. Her glasses were perched high on her nose. “Yes, Blake,” she said.

  It was odd hearing his first name. The crew had always referred to him as Ort.

  “I’ve repaired the drone and removed the RVAMP. However, due to the damage it sustained, I’d like you to do a diagnostic check. I’ve already plugged your interface into the machine.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  He turned to face the monitor. Several lines of data raced across the screen. A mixture of numbers and letters, nothing he recognized.

  They stopped a moment later and Irene paused, as if she was digesting the information.

  “The J198 has suffered some internal damage to its backup electronic system. Engines 1 and 2 are both fully operational, but Engine 3 is only operating at sixty-four percent.”

  “So I can be confident when I tell the captain that she will make it to Colorado Springs?”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Good,” Ort replied. He stepped away from the monitor and moved back to the RVAMP lying on the table.

  He examined it as any creator would, with awe and satisfaction. The gray tube was only about two feet long and six inches wide. He’d designed the weapon utilizing the blueprints Dr. Rodriguez had provided Captain Noble; only Ort had taken them a step further. The new design upped the output considerably, allowing the pulse to travel even farther. He hadn’t stopped there, however, knowing, after his conversation with the captain, that the Organics’ ships would likely have stronger force fields than the grunt aliens on the ground. So he’d increased the electrical magnetic output. The newer RVAMP not only worked over a larger distance, it packed a much more powerful punch.

  For that reason he’d named it Redemption.

  If they could pilot one of the weapons within a limited distance of the alien crafts, they would be able to blast them out of the sky. He had no doubt about it.

  He ran his fingers over the tube. Amazing, he thought, that such a small weapon could be so powerful.

  “Redemption,” he said with confidence, “You better be everything I think you are.”

  * * *

  Captain Noble plopped into the chair at the head of the conference table. He leaned backward, placing his hands behind his head before sucking in a long, steady breath. Within minutes his remaining staff would join him.

  He still couldn’t believe the message that Irene had decoded a few minutes before. It was from Cheyenne Mountain, sent just hours before they went offline. He listened to it again.

  “This is AI Alexia, reporting from Cheyenne Mountain. At 0445 hours we retrieved data from Lolo revealing seven UTM coordinates strategically placed at the highest summits in the world. As you can see, all of these alien structures are similar in design. Lolo measured the pulse
wavelength at 43º 21´18˝ North, 42º 26´ 21˝ East. The results indicate that the poles conduct and sustain the surge, which comes in two-hour intervals. In theory, if one of the poles is destroyed in that small window of time, then the circuit will be broken and the surge won’t be sustained. The Organics will be shieldless until the next surge hits.”

  Noble froze the message. The Biosphere had given them the most important gift of the war—a map with actual targets that, if destroyed, could end the invasion. It was a soldier’s wet dream and Noble’s duty to blast the alien poles into oblivion.

  He leaned farther back in his chair, anxious for his staff to join him. It had been a long road. They’d been through the wringer together. And they’d all lost so many loved ones. He thought of his wife and daughters, unable to picture their faces. Had it really been that long since he’d seen them?

  He rubbed his eyes and tried to remember as the door to the conference room opened. Athena, Trish, Ort, and Diego filtered in. The sight of the remaining members of his executive team reminded him of how many they had lost.

  “Captain,” they each said in passing.

  He nodded and sat straighter in the plush chair. His new plan would avenge all those they had lost. He’d gone over it a hundred times in his head. All he had to do now was convince everyone else that it would work.

  Judging by Trish’s stone-faced look, he had his work cut out for him.

  “Please, take a seat,” he said, gesturing toward the chairs situated around the table. “I called you all here for several reasons. First, Ort has completed his design of the modified RVAMP.” Noble spied one of its tubes tucked under the engineer’s muscular arm.

  “Second, I want to discuss sending the J198 to Cheyenne Mountain. Third, I’ve finished the plans for our final offensive against the Organics.” He extended his hands and leaned forward, knowing they all probably thought he was crazy. “But before we discuss anything I want to make a few remarks about what happened this morning.” He paused and looked at each of his crew one by one.

  Besides Athena, the others all wore passive looks. Between the exhaustion, fear, and constant threat of the Organics, the journey had taken a severe toll on everyone.

  Noble shook his head. “We’ve lost many of our friends and colleagues. And for that I’m sorry.”

  The room was deathly silent. Noble continued. “Since we were informed of our mission to monitor the Biospheres I’ve tried to give orders that took into account the life, health, and safety of our crew, first and foremost. My order to hold our course near the water collection ships failed you all in that regard.”

  “The aliens found us, sir. It was just a matter of time,” Athena said.

  He held up his hand. “Please let me finish.”

  She nodded and slouched a bit farther down in her chair.

  “The world is dying. We’ve watched the ocean draining around us. The Organics are migrating to the shores and the Biosphere team believed they are preparing to leave.” Noble paused, realizing he’d spoken of them in the past tense. Subconsciously he knew, as did everyone else in the room, that the team was likely dead. That didn’t mean they had died in vain, though. They had provided Noble’s crew with the ultimate gift.

  He sighed and said, “We’ve run out of time. There are no Biospheres left to monitor, and I’ve decided not to send the J198 to Cheyenne Mountain. Even if there are survivors, there isn’t anything we can do for them.”

  Athena shot back up in her chair.

  He continued before she could interrupt him again. “So, you’re all probably wondering what my final plans are. I’ve hinted at them before. Whatever we do needs to be big. With the X-9 gone, Offutt deserted, and Cheyenne Mountain offline we are forced to lead an offensive by ourselves. But I’m confident it can be done. That we can defeat the Organics,” he said. “I know what you’re all wondering. How can we achieve victory?”

  Noble gestured to Ort and the tube lying on the table in front of him. “I’d like you to explain how the modified RVAMP works.”

  “With pleasure, sir,” the engineer said, then stood and grabbed the device. “This is a part of Redemption. She’s one of a dozen that I’ve been working on. Attach her to any drone, jet, or high-altitude craft and she will bite the Organics in a way they never expected. She emits an electromagnetic pulse that has the same effect on their technology as theirs has on ours.” Ort clapped his hands together and then extended them in a wide arch, mouthing the word Boom.

  Noble cut in. “We know the ships and the alien surface grunts are all powered by an electromagnetic disturbance called the surge. Ideally, we would focus on finding an off switch, but it’s located on Mars. So, we might have another solution. Alexia made a very important discovery just hours ago.”

  He stood and pushed his chair under the table. Then he walked over to the AI console and said, “Irene, bring up a map.”

  The overhead LEDs dimmed and a hologram of the world emerged over her interface. “There,” Noble said, pointing. “Lolo discovered seven skyscraper-size poles, all strategically located at the world’s highest summits.”

  Hushed chatter broke out around him. He continued before they started asking questions.

  “Cheyenne Mountain believed that these poles, or whatever they are, conduct the surge. We now know that the surge comes in two-hour intervals, so, theoretically, if we knock a pole down before the surge can reconnect, we shut down their entire network. Their ships will lose power, the aliens on the ground will lose their shields, and the Organics’ empire will crumble,” he said with authority.

  “Holy shit,” Diego said.

  “Excellent,” Athena added.

  “Wait,” Trish said. She closed her eyes and cupped her hands over her head. “I’m trying to wrap my mind around this. So if we take down one of the poles, the surge will shut down entirely? What if you’re wrong? What if the surge just can’t reconnect in that zone? What if it only kills the Organics within the radius of that individual pole?”

  “Then it’s a good start,” Noble said. He rubbed an ache forming under his forehead and then remarked, “And we keep trying to take down the others.”

  Athena’s lips twisted. She looked unconvinced, and so did Ort.

  “Lights, Irene,” Noble said, turning back to the table. “What other questions do you have?”

  Diego raised his hand. “Don’t you think they’re guarded?”

  “Highly likely,” Noble replied. “But all we need to do is get close. Right, Ort?” He shot the man a look that pleaded for confirmation.

  The engineer shrugged. “I hope so.”

  Noble felt the eyes of every person in the room on him, a burden he was accustomed to as captain.

  “Obviously, the main problem is that, besides our last drone, the Sea Serpent is our only functioning aircraft. My plan is to take it to Offutt, have Diego’s team clear the base, secure the aircraft and drones our bot found, and then launch our offensive. As I said, in theory, we only need to take one pole down to succeed. But we can’t risk sending all the aircraft at Offutt to just one. I want to target all of them. Spread out our remaining resources. Diego’s team has three pilots left who are capable of flying X-90s, and Kirt can handle the drones from Offut.” He looked at his team for some sort of response.

  “Well? Don’t any of you have anything to say?”

  He crossed his arms and waited.

  Athena scooted her chair closer to the table. “Sounds like suicide.”

  “Not like we have many options left on the table,” Trish remarked.

  “It’s the best I can come up with,” Noble replied. “I know it sounds like a long shot, but it’s all I have to work with.”

  “Redemption will give your plan a shot,” Ort said confidently. He stroked the metal surface of his creation and smiled. “You have my support, sir.”

  Diego chimed
in. “You can count on me and my men.”

  Noble nodded. “All right then. Irene, make the arrangements. Everyone else, let’s get moving.”

  He turned his back to the crew and listened to them hustle out of the conference room, wondering again if he’d made the right decision.

  CHAPTER 16

  THERE weren’t many things that scared Jeff anymore. Over the past two months he’d grown accustomed to living on a planet infested with alien monsters. Even when they’d captured him and taken him to the human farm, he’d suppressed his fears. Two very important goals kept him fighting: to avenge his father’s death and to protect his little brother. Since their dad died, he’d felt empowered to take care of David. He was blood, and Jeff would do anything to protect him.

  They’d stood in the dark hallway for several minutes now, waiting for Bouma and Kiel to gather the others. Jeff couldn’t see them, but he could hear the other children. Roused from a deep sleep, Jamie and Owen let out soft moans.

  “What’s wrong?” David asked.

  “Shhhh,” Jeff said. He felt for his brother’s hand and grabbed it, wishing he hadn’t given Bouma their flashlight.

  Within minutes the team had gathered in the hallway. The stream of light danced across the corridor, penetrating the darkness of the mess hall.

  The beam suddenly flickered.

  “Shit,” Bouma said. “Losing its charge.” He tapped the end of the device against the wall, sending an echo vibrating through the Biosphere. As the sound faded a new one emerged—a faint shriek.

  Jeff froze.

  “Did you hear that?” someone asked.

  Bouma waved the light like a sword through the air, scanning the shadows for the source. But Jeff already knew what it was.

  The Organics had found them.

  “Alexia, are you there?” Emanuel asked.

  Jeff picked up on the growing panic in the scientist’s voice and gripped his brother’s hand tighter, his survival instinct kicking in.

  They waited in silence. The AI did not respond.