Shocked into motion, Emanuel stood and snapped his fingers. “Diego,” he shouted. “I need your men to get these kids and Sophie into the cryo chambers inside the ship.”
“On it,” the soldier said.
“We need a medic, too,” Holly yelled. She pumped Bouma’s chest frantically. “He’s not breathing!”
One of the soldiers sprinted over to them and, dropping to a knee, opened a small black medical kit. He shooed Holly aside and began working on the marine.
Above them, the bank of red lights surrounding the door to the Sunspot blinked. The NTC soldiers rushed back and forth.
Emanuel’s vision blurred. He could hear someone yelling his name, but the words were indecipherable.
They were so fucking close! So close to leaving the damned planet and all the death behind. And now Sophie, his beloved Sophie . . . He couldn’t bear to watch the NTC soldier carry her body up the ramp into the Sunspot. His only hope rested with the cryo chambers.
Moving aside, Emanuel watched the other men scoop up Jamie and Owen. Their arms hung loosely over armored shoulders, their eyes detached, staring at nothing. Sucking in a long, measured breath he closed his eyes and then followed the group into the belly of the spaceship.
* * *
The mission clock on Captain Noble’s HUD read 1705.
Almost there, he thought.
He paced nervously behind Kirt’s monitor, his gaze shifting from the display to the hangar doors every few seconds. He still hadn’t heard back from Diego. The man had come tearing across the tarmac, screaming about Spiders that had attacked the Biosphere team. He’d deployed all but three of his men to help.
The wait for their return was eating him alive. He turned back to the monitors, anticipation building in his gut as he watched Howard’s and Riordan’s jets inch across the display. Marked Red 9 and Green 6, the two X-90s were now a finger’s length away from their target.
Thanks to Lolo, they had secured an encrypted feed with both pilots. The video streaming from the cockpits fed straight to Noble’s command center at Offutt. He saw what they saw. It was like being behind the wheel, without having to drive.
A coward’s game, he thought, wishing again he could be there himself.
Crackling white noise filled his earpiece. He flinched, waiting for the transmission. He hoped desperately for good news, but a long wave of static washed over the channel.
He didn’t have time for this. He reached up and tapped his helmet with an armored finger, as if it would help the weak com feed.
“Captain, this is Diego. Do you copy?” Diego repeated the message, his voice shaky and unsure.
“Yes. Yes. I’m here,” Noble replied. “Give me a full report.”
“Sir, there have been casualties. Doctor Sophie Winston appears to be . . .” he paused. “She appears to be dead, sir. The children are all severely injured. Doctor Rodriguez thinks they might be able to save them if we put them in the cryo chambers to preserve their bodies until they can find proper medical care.”
“My god,” Noble said, choking on his words.
“It’s bad, sir. And that’s not all. Doctor Brown and Corporal Bouma were injured. They should both live, but the other marine, Kiel, was killed inside the Sunspot. They woke up a fucking nest of aliens.”
Noble hammered his fist down, stopping just short of the table. He should have used the rover to scan the Sunspot, but after discovering the drones he’d simply left to plan the rest of the mission.
Once again he’d failed, and lives, precious lives, had been lost due to his negligence.
“Sir, they’re almost to Mount McKinley,” Kirt said.
Noble shook his thoughts away. He needed to focus. He couldn’t lose it now, not when Howard and Riordan were so close to their target.
“Diego, do what you can for the team. Have your men help them prepare the ship for launch and then get back here.”
“Roger.”
Noble filled his lungs with a deep breath, relieving some of the built-up anxiety. A bead of sweat trickled down his nose and landed on the stubble growing where his mustache had filled his face weeks earlier. He wanted desperately to run his finger across his face. It had always calmed him. Instead he moved to the seat next to Kirt. Crossing his arms, Noble said, “Get me the feed inside Red 9.”
Kirt reached to his left and swiped the screen. The monitor flickered and the view from Howard’s cockpit emerged. Clocking 2,200 mph, the jet screamed through the air. The skyline was a blur of orange light. A black speck glimmered on the horizon.
“That’s Riordan,” Kirt said, pointing at the dot.
Noble nodded. “How are our drones doing?” He turned to Andy, who sat a few feet away, his eyes plastered to a set of dual monitors.
“They’re flying on autopilot, for now,” Andy replied.
“Once they reach their targets, we’ll switch them back to manual. That’s where I come in,” Kirt said.
Data scrolling across the bottom of Howard’s monitor showed the pilot’s X-90 was at terminal velocity.
“Be advised, target incoming,” Riordan said.
Kirt keyed a series of codes in to the holo interface and said, “Advise reducing speed in T minus thirty seconds.”
The red and green dots on the radar screen blinked as Howard and Riordan acknowledged the request. In the bottom right corner of the display, Noble saw their speeds slowly reducing.
As Howard’s jet descended, the feed cleared. For the first time during the flight, Noble could see the landscape below.
Closing his eyes he pictured the great Alaskan frontier before the Organics had invaded: thousands of square miles of grass, crystal-clear streams snaking through the fields, herds of wildlife grazing freely, and snow-tipped mountain peaks.
All reduced to ash.
When his eyes snapped open he saw the grave truth. The gray mountains were approaching fast, their jagged peaks devoid of snow, their ridgelines filled with petrified trees. A wildfire burned a section of forest for hundreds of square miles in the distance, filling the horizon with dark smoke.
“Check your weapons systems; prepare to attack,” Noble said.
“Roger that, Offutt. Preparing weapons systems,” Riordan replied. Howard responded with an “Aye aye,” his Red 9 dot blinking green.
“Surge countdown is T minus forty three minutes,” Kirt said, looking up at Noble.
“Howard, Riordan. You have forty-three minutes to take this son of a bitch down,” Noble said. He grunted when he saw the majestic peak of Mount McKinley rising out of the black smoke cloud. “They’re going to have to fly through that?”
A short nod from Kirt confirmed the captain’s fear.
Static flickered over the com. “Offutt, are you seeing this? Please advise, over.”
“We’re seeing it,” Kirt replied. “Proceed through the smoke. Target is just on the other side, over.”
Noble watched the dots streaking across the radar. Red 9 blinked first, but Green 6 hesitated before acknowledging. He moved back to Howard’s display. Flares of exhaust trailed Riordan’s jet as it streaked toward the cloud. And then it was gone, swallowed by the smoke.
The radio crackled a moment later.
Riordan’s voice sounded distressed. “Captain, we’re picking up a strong magnetic disturbance. Please advise, over.”
Kirt glanced up at Noble, his forehead lined with wrinkles.
“Tell them to hold course for now,” Noble replied.
“Aye aye,” Kirt replied with a short hesitation.
Noble checked the radar. Both dots looked like they were on top of Mount McKinley. That couldn’t be right, could it?
Holding his breath, he counted down the seconds. Just as he reached seven, Howard’s X-90 exploded out of the smoke. A chorus of warning sensors chirped over the channel. Emergency lig
hts flickered across the dashboard.
“Be advised, impact imminent,” came an automated voice inside the cockpit. “Take immediate evasive measures.”
Before Noble had a chance to respond, he saw it.
Mount McKinley towered above both jets. They were coming in too fast. Seven hundred fifty miles per hour too fast. He didn’t need Kirt to tell him what had happened. The magnetic disturbance had disrupted their navigation equipment and the smoke had rendered them blind.
Screaming, Riordan yanked hard on the control stick. The jet pitched upward, and rays of sunlight washed over the cockpit.
Intense light filled the display, forcing Noble to look away. He waited for an explosion as Riordan’s and Howard’s jets smashed into the gray mountain.
But the sound never came. When he turned back to the monitor he saw clear skies and the black dot of Riordan’s X-90.
Relief washed over Noble.
“Circling,” Howard said. His voice faded as an explosion rang out. “What the fuck was that?” the pilot said. He twisted in his seat, his camera showing two of the drones trailing him. The other had smashed into the side of Mount McKinley, flames licking the sky where the craft had blown to bits.
“We lost Drone 3,” Kirt said, pointing to the radar.
Noble grunted. “I can see that.” He shifted his gaze from the radar to the feed from Howard’s X-90.
“My god,” the pilot suddenly said.
Noble instantly saw why.
The alien tower Lolo had discovered rose out of the south side of the mountain into the sky. The metallic sides pulsated, a blue light moving up and down the shaft in intermittent bursts.
“That’s it,” Noble said, locking eyes with Kirt. “Take that fucking thing down.”
“Engaging,” the pilot said. He swiped the screen, deactivating the autopilot on the two remaining drones. Andy sat up straighter and grabbed the joystick as his drone came online.
“Riordan, Howard. Protect the drones,” Noble said.
“No sign of contacts,” Howard replied.
A lump formed in the captain’s throat. He’d expected resistance. Major resistance. But the skies appeared clear, the pole seemingly unprotected.
He focused on the strange Organic architecture. It throbbed with life. The pulsing of the alien light gave the impression of breathing.
As Howard maneuvered around the tower the light suddenly changed rhythm. The entire pole became solid blue. Seconds later it changed again. This time hundreds of miniature lights flickered. And one by one they pulled away from the construct. Countless cylinder-shaped objects peeled off the tower.
Noble’s stomach sank when he realized what they were. Shocked into motion he stood and leaned over Kirt. “Hurry—use the RVAMP while we still can.”
Kirt navigated through the minefield of alien drones. The sky was filled with them, like blue fireflies they were everywhere.
“There’s too many!” Andy yelled. Noble saw the feed from his drone flicker and fade as it detonated into a thousand pieces.
“Fuck,” he said, cupping his head in his hands.
Noble moved back to Kirt’s monitor. The expert pilot zigzagged around the alien ships. With a quick jerk to the right he pulled them away from the mountain. Then with another swift movement he changed course, this time straight up toward the sun.
“Firing,” Howard said.
The captain’s eyes darted back to the X-90 feed as a volley of rockets launched at the sky that was now choking with tiny blue dots. Explosions burst across the display, several of the missiles sending the aliens into fiery poofs. But there were so many.
“Bogies on my tail,” Riordan said.
Howard cried out over the channel. “They’re everywhere!”
“Keep them off Kirt’s drone,” Noble replied. “He has to get closer.”
Both of the pilots acknowledged, their dots blinking green on the radar. When Noble looked back at Howard’s video, he saw impossible odds.
The same odds humanity had faced all along.
For a moment Noble couldn’t move; he couldn’t even speak. He watched a wall of alien drones moving along a collision course with the X-90. They would do anything to stop the pilots from taking out their life source, even if it meant sacrificing themselves in the process.
Howard screamed and jerked his plane to the right, but it was too late. Fire filled the display as the X-90 exploded in a cloud of debris.
The monitor panned to Riordan’s feed just as his jet exploded as well.
Anger pulled Noble from his trance. “Use the fucking RVAMP, Kirt. Now!”
The pilot shot him a glance, his brown eyes pleading behind his visor. “But we aren’t close enough.”
“You have to do it now! While we still can.”
Kirt nodded and tugged the control stick to the left, angling the drone back toward the mountain. The tower, now just a speck on the mountain, blinked as if it was tempting them.
“Just a little closer,” he muttered.
Kirt’s fingers hovered over the RVAMP button. Hovered too long. And in a fit of rage, the captain leaned forward and reached for it himself. He punched the button and waited for the invisible electromagnetic magic to work.
Kirt, gasping in surprise, turned back to his interface and keyed in several commands.
“The drone’s gone, sir,” the pilot choked.
“Did it work?” Noble glanced down at him with bated breath.
The pilot shoved the monitor away, sending the display crashing to the floor.
Noble felt his heart sink. He knew, like Kirt, that Operation Redemption had failed.
The planet . . .
Lost.
CHAPTER 27
EMANUEL removed his glasses and, using his shirt, cleaned the smears of blood off the lenses. When he put them back on, Sonya’s hologram had emerged above the AI interface. The bridge, crowded with NTC soldiers, reminded him of a beehive. The armored men moved from station to station, activating the life support systems.
Within minutes the room flared to life, holo displays spreading their warm light over the cold metal floor. Diego’s team had already removed Kiel’s body, and those of the ship’s previous crew—what was left of them. The smell of rotting flesh, however, still lingered.
“Doctor Rodriguez, all systems are now online,” Sonya said.
“How are the children?” he asked. “How is—”
“Their vitals are all unchanged,” Sonya replied. “Doctor Winston has entered a completely frozen state. Her body is technically alive, but her brain activity is minimal.”
The words hit Emanuel like a belt to the face. He flinched and closed his eyes. Deep down he knew before Sonya answered that Sophie was beyond saving. That she had died in his arms. But science and technology gave him hope, as it always did. He still held on to that hope. Without it, he had nothing.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Diego standing next to him. Emanuel caught his gaze, finding strength there. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I really am.”
Emanuel nodded.
“Listen, I don’t mean to detract from your loss, but there’s something I think you should see.”
Taking a deep breath, Emanuel attempted to pull himself together.
“Follow me,” Diego said.
The soldier led him away from the bridge and through a passage that connected to Biome 1. At the end of the hall, two of his men held black garbage bags.
“What’s left of the crew,” Diego said, gesturing toward the gore-soaked walls.
A partially raised metal blast door covered the glass entrance to Biome 1. Holding his nose, Emanuel looked over at the lieutenant, not quite understanding why he’d brought him here. He ducked under the door.
The chamber looked different from the one at Cheyenne Mountain. I
nstead of the curved ceiling that defined their old Biome, this one was low. A bank of glowing lights extended from the panels illuminating the room. The dirt looked unscathed. The space completely undisturbed.
It was then that he understood.
Diego smiled when Emanuel nodded.
“These brave men and women made their last stand in this hallway to prevent the aliens from getting inside,” Diego said. “They sealed off the rest of the Sunspot to protect the water supply and the other Biomes.”
Emanuel didn’t know how to respond.
Diego put a hand on Emanuel’s shoulder. “They saved the Sunspot so that someone else could take it to the stars.”
Emanuel managed to move his lips, but the words wouldn’t come out.
“Hold on,” Diego said. “I’m getting a transmission from Captain Noble now.”
Emanuel turned back to the Biome, scanning the perfectly level dirt and clean white walls. Despite everything that had happened, he couldn’t deny the hint of hope growing inside him. The hope that maybe they could still get to Mars and save Sophie.
“Captain Noble’s on his way here,” Diego said. “He wants to see you before you take off.”
“Me?” Emanuel asked, finally finding his voice again.
“You’re in charge now, aren’t you?”
With a nod, Emanuel said, “I suppose I am.”
* * *
Captain Noble stepped into the fleeting sunlight and looked up at the sky. Mars was out there, somewhere, and so was Dr. Hoffman’s magical colony.
Crossing the tarmac with Kirt and Andy on his heels, Noble thought of the old scientist. The mile-long walk to the hangar provided him with ample time to consider everything that had happened. It dawned on him that Hoffman had known all along that the aliens couldn’t be defeated. He had been right after all. It was Noble who was wrong. From the beginning, the bastard had realized that no amount of human military muscle could keep the Organics from what they desired—the most important resource of all.
The Biospheres and the colony on Mars were the only options left for the human race. And it finally all made sense. Why jump ship from a dying planet to an already dead one?
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