The Orbs Omnibus

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  “No, let’s keep moving,” she said, forcing her right foot onto the next step. Licking her cracked lips, she continued. But with every step down the dry, humid stairway, the feeling that she was never going to see her team again grew stronger.

  CHAPTER 24

  THE storm rattled the building with a growing ferocity. Noble looked up from his monitor and eyed the roof with a cocked brow, expecting the metal sheet to peel off and sail into the wind. He could picture an angry red twister swooping in and sucking his men into the sky. Tearing them limb from limb.

  He pushed the thought aside. He needed to focus on the mission and not get sidetracked by pointless fear.

  “How are we doing, Kirt?” Noble spun his chair to face the pilot. The man typed a series of commands into the interface and then strode over to one of the drones.

  “Working, sir. I hope to have these all online within the hour,” he said, extending his right arm in an outward motion as if he was showcasing the row of drones to a potential buyer.

  Noble glanced at the mission clock in the upper-right edge of his HUD. They were already behind schedule. Ort had run into a problem installing the RVAMP monitors in the X-90 cockpits. Without them the pilots would have no way of knowing what distance to keep from the drones.

  I need those jets, Noble thought, clenching his jaw.

  He stood and jogged across the room to the wide doors that opened into the first hangar. The whine of portable power tools echoed inside his helmet. A pair of legs protruded out from under the wing of the closest jet. Noble bent down. Ort drilled a final bolt to secure one of the RVMs. He slid out from under the jet and pushed himself to his feet.

  “Almost done. But I had a hell of a time with those monitors.” He sucked in a breath. “Man, I’m freaking burning up in here. I think the AC unit in my suit is toast.” Reaching up he unfastened his helmet and pulled it off. He placed it gently onto the floor and then took a long swig from his water bottle. Dragging his sleeve over his mouth he said, “I should be able to get the RVAMPs installed in an hour.”

  “You have thirty minutes,” Noble replied. He glanced up at the ceiling again. “If that.”

  “Roger, sir. I’m on it.” Ort grabbed his helmet with one hand and the remaining duffel bag with his other.

  The two working X-90s were facing the entrance, their beak-shaped noses pointed toward the metal doors. Noble clasped his hands together behind his back. The sight gave him great satisfaction. They were one step closer.

  Ramirez joined the captain behind the jets. “Any word from Diego?”

  “Not yet,” Noble replied without taking his focus off the X-90s.

  Another gust of wind struck the building’s side. The walls shuddered, the ringing echoing through the room. Several of the other men glanced nervously at the ceiling.

  Noble brought his chin down hard on the com. “Everyone, listen up. We’re about thirty minutes from go time. Keep sharp.”

  * * *

  Sophie opened the door and saw the rodent before she heard its feet skittering across the floor. The rat took off down the hallway where the stairwell ended.

  Without a night vision–capable NTC suit, Sophie was forced to use her flashlight. She aimed it at the filthy creature, catching a red set of eyes and a frail body cowering in the darkness.

  It was odd, seeing a living animal all the way down here, and she found herself thinking again of the emaciated cat they’d discovered back in Colorado Springs. Noble’s words aboard the Sea Serpent replayed in her mind.

  There will be survivors . . . Humans will emerge from their holes.

  She knew the odds, as Alexia had. The statistics didn’t lie, nor did the scenery. Humans had lost the planet, and the resource that had sustained life for billions of years. Sure, a few survivors might be lurking out there just like the rat, but without water, they too would die.

  Beside her, Diego studied his tablet. He glanced up. Pointing at the surface of the device he said, “Take a look.”

  They crowded around the tablet and Sophie saw the red lines representing the tunnels.

  “Looks like they snake for miles beneath the base. The command center where we can activate the Sunspot is only about a quarter mile from here.”

  “We have a good little hike,” Emanuel replied.

  “Better get moving,” Sophie added.

  Diego nodded and returned his tablet to his side pouch. Then he tucked his fingers inside his pulse rifle strap and detached the weapon. With the barrel pointing forward, they pushed on.

  Sophie wasted no time following suit. The three moved quickly through the darkness. Their lights flickered across the concrete, illuminating the hallway several hundred feet ahead.

  She forced a swallow as the headache she thought had passed reared up inside her skull. The pain grew with every step.

  “I need to stop,” she said, panting. “I’m sorry.” She reached out and braced herself against the wall. Emanuel approached her from behind, placing a sweaty palm on her forearm. Then he reached back and removed a water bottle from his belt.

  “Almost there,” he said with a reassuring squeeze.

  Twisting the cap off, she brought the bottle to her lips. The water, now warm, slid down her dry throat. Careful not to waste a single drop, she cupped one hand under her chin. A few stragglers fell into her palm and she lapped them up.

  Handing the bottle back to Emanuel, she said, “Finish it off. The Sunspot will have an endless supply.” Almost as soon as she said it, she realized there was a possibility she was wrong.

  Emanuel must have had the same epiphany. “How do we even know the water biome will be intact? Shit!” He shook his head and adjusted the straps of the dual RVM-RVAMP machine on his back. “I didn’t even think about that, but what if?”

  Sophie stopped him by waving a finger. “Too late now. We have to hope the ship made it this far without being touched.” She swept her light over the floor and then into the distance. “I see no signs of the aliens.”

  “Doesn’t mean they weren’t here before,” Diego said. “Either way, let’s keep moving. We’re almost there.”

  Sophie massaged her temples and sucked in a lungful of scorching air. The breath burned her throat where just seconds ago the water had cooled it. She waited for Emanuel to follow Diego and then fell in behind them.

  The same déjà vu she’d felt earlier reemerged. This time it was even more intense, prompting a wave of goose bumps. Something was wrong. Things just didn’t make sense. It was too quiet.

  Questions she knew she should have asked earlier came to mind. Why had the Sunspot been left behind at Offutt? And why was the base clear of the Organics? Even if they had migrated she would still see their remains, the shells of orbs, or the husks of humans.

  “We’re here,” Diego said. He halted where the T-shaped corridor turned off. He peeked around the corner and swept his light down the right side first, and then moved back to the left.

  “Clear,” he said, motioning them forward with a wave.

  Sophie followed Emanuel around the right corner and they moved into the next hallway. Diego was stopped at a set of double doors. Above them the first sign she’d seen since entering the facility hung loosely to the side. She lifted her flashlight to the yellow lettering.

  TE Command Center.

  Authorized Personnel Only

  Diego reached for the handle.

  “Stay back,” he whispered, before twisting the knob on the windowless metal door. It clicked, unlocked.

  “That makes things easier,” he mumbled.

  With his right foot he edged the door open, his headlamp shooting a beam of white light into the room.

  Sophie concentrated on the silence. There were no alien noises. No high-pitched shrieks or the scratch, scrape sound their claws made.

  “Emanuel, see if you can find th
e lights,” Diego said.

  The walls were lined with state-of-the-art holo monitors. In the center of the room sat two metal desks, an AI interface protruding from the tiled floor between them.

  “That must be it,” Diego said. He rushed over to the thin pedestal and withdrew his tablet. Then he removed a small cord and connected the two devices. A hologram shot out above him, carpeting the room with a purple mist. The light transitioned into a series of translucent flickering numbers.

  Sophie leaned in closer for a better look.

  “Access codes,” Diego said, sensing her presence. “These should allow us entry into the AI system. Should only take a few—”

  Before he could finish his thought there was a clunk from the air ventilation system in the ceiling. Sophie glanced up just as the banks of LEDs clicked on, flooding the room with a warm yellow light. She basked under the cool air from the ceiling vents. The breeze felt magnificent on her blistering skin.

  Diego continued to swipe away at his tablet. “Almost in,” he muttered. “Only a few more minutes.”

  Sophie breathed the cool air, focusing on the flashing numbers. In the back of her mind she pictured the children waiting in the dark hangar and scanning the shadows for the shapes of aliens.

  “Hurry,” she said.

  “Going as fast as I can, Doctor,” Diego replied.

  A scratching noise above them startled her. She flinched at the sound, her hand darting toward her heart.

  “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

  Emanuel shot her a concerned look. “What?”

  “The scratching.”

  She looked at the ceiling, nervously scanning the white tiles. The air unit coughed and then settled back into a normal rhythm.

  “It probably hasn’t been run for a while,” Emanuel said.

  Sophie managed a nod.

  “Got it!” Diego shouted.

  When she turned back to the interface the numbers had been replaced by the avatar of a middle-aged woman. The AI wore a serious look, her forehead forming a mountain range of wrinkles. She studied her visitors carefully, locking eyes with Sophie last.

  An awkward silence spread over the group.

  The AI spoke first. “Who are you?” She sounded confused. Lost.

  “I’m Doctor Sophie Winston with the Cheyenne Mountain Biosphere. This is Doctor Emanuel Rodriguez and NTC Lieutenant John Diego. We’re here to—”

  “Where is my crew?” she interrupted.

  “Your crew?” Emanuel replied.

  Diego took a step closer to the interface and unplugged his tablet. “The base appears to be empty.”

  The woman’s eyes widened in confusion. Sophie wondered if the AI had suffered some sort of malfunction. Memory loss, perhaps.

  Her purple avatar abruptly disappeared.

  Diego stepped back. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Sophie, he shot her a nervous glance.

  “I don’t like this,” Emanuel replied.

  Moments later the woman’s face reappeared. She smiled as if nothing had happened and said, “My apologies. I was forced to reboot. Let me start over. I’m Sonya, NTC Model Number 3. I’ve been assigned to the NTC Sunspot.” She spoke with some sort of foreign accent that Sophie couldn’t quite place. Bosnian, maybe.

  “Yes, that’s why we are here,” Sophie replied.

  Sonya tilted her head and studied Sophie. “I do not understand.”

  Taking a cautious step forward, Sophie said, “We’re here to activate the Sunspot.”

  The AI blinked several times as if she was processing the information.

  “And we’re here to take the Sunspot to Mars,” Sophie continued. “We received your SOS message.”

  Sonya continued to stare.

  “You do remember the SOS, right?” Sophie entreated.

  “I shut my system down ten days ago. I’ve been in hibernation mode,” Sonya replied. “I’m still restoring my hardware and additional systems.”

  “While you’re doing that, could you please open the doors to the Sunspot? The rest of our team is waiting to board the ship.”

  “Certainly,” Sonya replied. “One moment, please.” Her avatar disappeared again and the purple light swallowed the room.

  Diego smiled behind his visor and nodded at Sophie.

  They waited for several seconds before Sonya reappeared. “I’ve restored my system and retrieved the SOS message.”

  The three waited for the AI to explain. Diego gripped his rifle tightly, the barrel slowly inching off the ground.

  “The crew of the Sunspot was killed approximately ten days, twenty-one hours, thirty-four minutes, and thirteen seconds ago.”

  “Oh my god,” Sophie said, cupping her hands over her mouth. “Where? Where were they killed, Sonya?”

  “Inside the Sunspot, of course,” the AI replied.

  Sophie was running before the AI had a chance to finish.

  “Wait, Sophie!” Emanuel called after her.

  She finally understood why Sonya had activated the SOS. How could she have been so stupid? The base was empty because the Organics weren’t there. They were inside the Sunspot. And with the doors now open, the hungry aliens would have fresh prey waiting at their doorstep.

  CHAPTER 25

  JEFF pulled the magazine from his rifle to check his ammo. He knew there were only five bullets left. He’d checked several times now. The waiting ate at him, taxing his nerves. What the hell is taking so long, he wondered as he jammed the magazine back into the gun with a click.

  David, lying on the floor next to him, lifted his head and smiled. “Guess we aren’t going to have to use those after all.”

  Jeff looked away. He scanned the dimly lit hangar for Bouma and Kiel. Both men were positioned at opposite ends of the ship, the beams from their flashlights playing over the darkness. Standing, Jeff glanced over at Holly. She stroked Owen’s hair softly as he slept with his head in her lap. A few feet away Jamie was curled up comfortably with her blanket.

  Lifting his rifle, Jeff walked away from the group and started pacing. He couldn’t sit there any longer. The heat was unbearable. He honestly wasn’t sure how Jamie could even sleep in it.

  As he moved closer to the Sunspot he heard a chirp. Above him a circle of blue lights blinked, forming a halo around the ship’s wide nose. They glowed for a few moments, flickering in and out. Jeff flinched at a loud grinding noise that followed the chirping. The bank of LEDs turned red and the oval surface of the ship retracted to either side. A short ramp lowered from the opening, the rungs extending until they hit the concrete with a crunch.

  Jeff stumbled backward, his rifle aimed up the ramp. “Guys,” he shouted. “Someone just opened the door to this thing!”

  The blinking red lights illuminated the stairs of the metal platform just enough for Jeff to see a dark substance dried to the metal.

  “Guys!” he yelled again, taking several steps away from the ship.

  Behind him he could hear the heavy footsteps of the marines, but he kept his focus on the Sunspot.

  “Sweet!” Kiel said. He limped ahead of Jeff, looking up to see inside the ship.

  “Stay back,” Bouma ordered.

  Jeff felt a tug on his sleeve and glanced down to see David. The boy wiped sweat off his brow and then said, “Can we go inside now? It’s so hot out here.”

  “Not yet, bud. Why don’t you go back there with the others,” Jeff said, pointing to Holly and the other kids.

  David protested with a frown, but retreated to his suitcase.

  The roof suddenly shook, sending a vibration groaning through the metal walls.

  “Man,” Kiel said. “I really don’t want to be here when this tin can comes crashing down.”

  Bouma took a deep breath. “Me either.”

  “Think it’s safe?” Jeff
asked.

  “I think we should wait for the others to get back,” Bouma replied. He joined Kiel at the top of the ramp and peered up into the ship.

  “No way,” Kiel replied. “I want to see our digs for the next . . . How many months or years is this going to take?”

  He limped into the ship before Bouma could stop him.

  “Goddammit, Kiel,” Bouma muttered. “Jeff, watch our six, okay?” He looked back at Holly. “Wait here. We’re going to scope this out.”

  She waved and then continued running her hand through Owen’s hair.

  Jeff nodded at Bouma and then followed the marines into the ship. The top of the lift opened onto a large oval room filled with equipment Jeff had never seen before. A wall of monitors surrounded them on all sides. In the center of the room were three leather chairs facing a large overhead display.

  “Holy shit,” Kiel said, reaching up to cover his nose. “Do you smell that?”

  Bouma stopped to sniff the air. “What the fuck is it?”

  The smell overwhelmed Jeff as soon as he joined them on the bridge. It smelled sour. No, Jeff thought, taking a whiff. It smells like rotting meat. Like death.

  “I don’t like this,” Bouma whispered.

  Kiel shook his head. “Me either.” He swept his flashlight over the room, the beam hitting Jeff in the face. The boy covered his eyes and stepped away.

  “Sorry,” the marine said.

  Jeff choked as he took another breath. He crossed the room and moved toward the cluster of seats facing the main monitor. He pointed his own light at the display, realizing that he was looking at a virtual windshield.

  Stepping closer, he reached for the back of one of the leather chairs. His fingers slid into a slimy substance and he quickly pulled them from the gooey mess. With his heart racing he held his hand up in the light and saw it covered in blood.

  “What the hell!” he cried. Before Kiel and Bouma could respond a blur of blue light filled the oval entry leading away from the bridge. Both marines stumbled backward, knocking into each other.

  “Watch it,” Kiel shouted. When they regained their balance they both aimed their guns into the void.