Orbs (2 page)

The groaning of the blades drew Sophie's attention back to the windshield. The brown dust was slowly dissipating. In the distance, she thought she could even see a hint of night sky, but it was difficult to judge; the dark colors seemed to swirl together.

“Halo 1, this is Black Echo, do you copy? Over.”

A welcoming grin spread across the pilot's face as he reached for the transmitter. “Back in business! Black Echo, Halo 1 here. Over.”

“Roger. Good to hear your voice, Halo 1. Thought we'd lost you in the storm. Over.”

Sophie ignored the chatter, watching the winds slowly calm.

“Black Echo, that makes two of us. Preparing for landing. Over.”

“Roger, Halo 1, we'll leave a pot of coffee on the burner for you. Over.”

Silence once again filled the cockpit, the sound of the storm finally gone. Sophie slumped in her seat, her fingers still gripping the metal armrests. Relief flooded over her body like a cold shower after a long run. In the days after the solar storms, when she'd risen out of the shelter with the rest of her team only to find smoke crawling across the horizon, the flames from cities all across the United States licking the sky, she'd felt something similar. It was a feeling she would never forget. And it was on her skin again.

It was odd that she could be preparing for death one second, and then staring at a night sky full of stars the next. In many ways it was what made her appreciate science even more. It was a way for her to control her destiny, from an experiment in her lab to an article on quantum physics.

She knew what some people would say: “God saved them in the storm. God wanted her to live so she could save humanity.” But it was all bullshit to her. They hadn't survived because of divine intervention; they had survived through a combination of luck and teamwork.

Sophie smiled. “Nice flying back there, Captain. How long till we get this thing on the ground?”

“Thank you, ma'am. Worst storm I've ever flown through. Didn't think I was going to make it home there for a second,” he said, checking the control panel again. “Should be on the ground in fifteen minutes.”

With a simple nod, Sophie turned to watch the night sky, the cracks in the windshield now nothing more than an afterthought. It was a beautiful view—a view like the one she hoped she'd be seeing on Mars soon.

CHAPTER 2

T
HE
grinding sound of the metal door made Sophie cringe. She tapped her foot and watched artificial light from outside creep in as two NTC soldiers pried the broken chopper door open with a crowbar.

Finally the twisted metal gave way, and the door slid open. Sophie jumped out of the chopper's belly, ignoring the hand of one of the soldiers. She didn't have time for formalities. The tarmac was full of other helicopters and planes, which meant her team had already arrived. She was wasting time.

Stepping onto solid ground prompted a rush of blood to her brain, which already ached from the flight. She could feel it pulsating inside her skull.

Deep breath. Ignore the pain. You have business to attend to.

Sophie shook her head, rubbing the trauma from her eyes. Through the darkness she could vaguely make out a set of glowing orange goggles approaching her. The color indicated a senior NTC staffer, more than likely her escort. She stiffened, anxious to get the introductions over with so she could get to her team, but the man walked right by her.

“God damn, Captain,” the man barked at her pilot. “You just ruined a multimillion dollar aircraft. How does it feel?”

“Sir . . . I'm sorry, but the storm.”

“I don't want to hear any excuses. Turn around and look at your bird.”

The pilot nervously surveyed his chopper. The windshield was shattered in several places, and a rock was still lodged in one of the
cracks. That wasn't even the worst of it. The body of the chopper was peppered with dents. Not even the best body shop worker the NTC had on payroll could salvage it. The chopper needed to be stripped, its metal skin and windshield completely replaced.

“I asked you how it feels, Captain.”

The pilot looked at his feet. “Sir, I'm sorry, but—”

The senior staffer interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. “But you are being demoted, effective immediately.”

“Wait just a second!” Sophie stepped forward, her nostrils flaring. “Sir, this man saved me. If it weren't for him, this chopper would be buried in the Wastelands and you would be wasting fuel and resources trying to find it.”

The senior staffer turned to face her. “Ah, you must be Dr. Winston,” he said. “I've heard so much about you—”

“Sir, with all due respect, I don't have time for this. I need to see my team immediately.”

“Your team can wait. Let me introduce myself. My name is Dr. Hoffman, and I'm the entire reason you are here. I chose you. Did I choose wrong, Dr. Winston?”

Sophie hesitated. How could she not have recognized him? The CEO of NTC was one of the most powerful men on Earth—and on Mars, if their experiment succeeded. Her hand shook as she offered it to him. “Dr. Hoffman, sir, my apologies. I just wanted to voice my gratitude for this young man's actions. He saved my life.”

A smile curled across Dr. Hoffman's face. He took her hand, shaking it with a powerful grip. He cocked his head and nodded at the pilot, who cowered next to the chopper with the other two NTC soldiers. “You should thank Dr. Winston here. If it were up to me you'd never fly again.”

The pilot moved hesitantly, backing away and heading toward the massive concrete facility built into the mountainside at the edge of the tarmac. “Thank you, Dr. Winston!” he said once he'd reached a safe distance.

Dr. Hoffman turned to Sophie, his smile still glued on his face. She studied him. He was in his seventies, and his age showed. Even in the
mild darkness, the creases on his face were visible, deep valleys above his glowing goggles. A cropped mustache lined his thin lips, and his smile revealed weathered teeth, stained by years of coffee drinking.

“Shall we, Dr. Winston?” he said, gesturing toward the building. “I know you are anxious to meet your team.”

“Yes, Dr. Hoffman. Please lead the way.”

Sophie followed her escort toward the building, her hand still noticeably shaking from their conversation. She could count the men who intimidated her on one hand, but Dr. Hoffman topped the list.

Up ahead, two monstrous blast doors screeched open. The entrance was carved out of the side of a mountain. Above the two doors was a single weathered sign that read, “Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain.”

“NORAD,” she muttered under her breath. She should have known. The ancient military facility was the perfect place for a biosphere. It had been used as the military's aerospace defense command center in the early twenty-first century before it was decommissioned and fell into disrepair. She had been here once on a tour as a child, long before the solar storms scorched Denver. In the distance she could see the lights of Colorado Springs, which had barely avoided the radiation.

Dr. Hoffman shouted from the entrance. “Are you coming?”

“Yes, sir, just admiring the view.”

“I thought you were in a rush.”

“I am. It's just this place brings back memories.”

“Ah, well be prepared for some . . .” He paused. “Changes,” he said with the same sly grin.

Sophie faked a smile and followed him inside the dark access tunnel, listening to the groaning of the blast doors closing behind them. The doors crashed shut, sealing them inside the mountain. Someone flipped a switch, and the hangar glowed to life, the lights clicking on one after another.

This was a different entrance than the one she visited. It was wide enough for a semi-trailer and built exclusively for the military, not for touring school kids. The bright overhead lights illuminated a small electric train that sat idle in the middle of the access tunnel like a carnival ride waiting for patrons.

“This way,” one of the soldiers said, opening the door to the train. Sophie followed Dr. Hoffman inside and took a seat on a metal bench.

“This train will take us to the most advanced biosphere ever designed by man. NTC has sunk a pretty penny into this facility. I trust you will find it acceptable for your research.”

“I'm anxious to start my work in the environment,” Sophie said, massaging her tender muscles. She crossed her legs and rested her back against the cold metal of the bench. Her neck was sore from where the chopper's belt had cut into her flesh. She rubbed it, acknowledging that the aches were better than the alternative of perishing in a fiery wreck.

Dr. Hoffman pulled off his goggles and tucked them inside his jacket. For the first time, his eyes met hers. They were obsidian, much darker than Sophie had imagined. She recalled hearing about them in the past, when several of her team had been invited to a board meeting with NTC leadership.

“The data your team will collect is very important, Dr. Winston. I hope you realize what you have been hired to do.” He scrunched his eyebrows together, peering deeper into her eyes. It was too much; she looked away.

“I'm fully aware of my assignment. Just remember your part of the bargain.”

“I don't gamble when it comes to the end of the world, Dr. Winston. You and your team will have seats on the first flight to Mars. You have my word.”

His reassurance helped her relax, and she settled back into her seat, clasping her hands together and staring out the train window. The concrete walls of the tunnels raced by, illuminated by the white glow of the halogen lights. Eventually, the train slowed to a halt. The two NTC soldiers rose from their seats and stepped out into the tunnel. Dr. Hoffmann followed, once again covering his black eyes with his goggles.

“This way, Doctor,” he said, leading her back into the access lane. “The Biosphere is located in the main chamber. The space has been completely retrofitted and sealed from the outside. A state-of-the-art air filtration system has been added, and the facility is equipped with
an artificial intelligence named Alexia—you will meet her shortly. She controls the temperature, humidity, and all the other settings the Biosphere needs to operate properly. In case of a medical emergency, she will also double as a doctor.”

“Our engineer, Saafi Yool, is more than capable of regulating the settings,” Sophie said. “And among the rest of my staff, I'm sure we can handle any medical emergencies.”

Dr. Hoffman stopped in front of the open blast door, staring into the chamber. “Consider Alexia part of your team—a safeguard, if you will. Do I need to remind you how important this mission is, Dr. Winston? The future of humanity depends on your results. It's the reason I have taken time from my very busy schedule to be here for the beginning of this project. I don't like to waste my time. Am I wasting my time?” One of his eyebrows formed an arch over his goggles.

Sophie took a deep breath. “No,” she said. “As we already discussed, I'm well aware of the significance of this mission. I do not, however, trust any AI, especially one I haven't worked with before.”

Dr. Hoffman turned. “Dr. Winston, this isn't open for negotiation. Alexia is part of your team now. Accept it, or we will find someone else.” His tone was firm, and Sophie realized this wasn't something she could argue.

“Okay then. Alexia is part of my team,” she lied. She was anxious for a shower, a hot cup of coffee, and the familiar faces of her team. Even if that team now included an unfamiliar hologram.

The smell of cheap coffee hovered in the room. Biologist Emanuel Rodriguez brought a steaming mug to his lips, and took a sip. His brown eyes studied the three senior NTC staffers huddled around the table in the front of the briefing room.

At the head of the table was Dr. Hoffman. To his right was Amy Carlson, a tall and beautiful redhead with a face peppered by freckles. In her five years at NTC, she had risen from being an assistant to become Vice President of Science. Her rise to power was often attributed to her looks, but Emanuel knew that behind her pretty face was a keen mind.

To Dr. Hoffman's left was NTC's vice president of security, Sean Edwards. Edwards was a sixty-year-old retired British special operations veteran who had been Dr. Hoffman's right-hand man for several years. The left side of his face was normal for a man his age—wrinkled and a pasty white. The right side, however, was grotesque. His eye was sunk into his skull, the victim of shrapnel from a grenade that should have killed him. The skin was weathered and scarred from the burns that had consumed his face after the explosion went off. Even without the scars, he would have been frightening, but his appearance wasn't the only thing that intimidated his opponents. Rumors of his brutality were widespread, even outside the company.

Emanuel brought the cup back to his lips and took another sip, cringing at the bitter taste. His eyes flicked from the table to the corner of the room, where two NTC soldiers stood, their rifles strung over their shoulders and their red goggles emitting the familiar glow of the world's most powerful security and science firm. Their eyes may have been hidden, but their stoic faces radiated intimidation.

He wasn't sure why Dr. Hoffman had elected to show off the company's muscle. After all, the room was packed with Dr. Winston's team and the support staff who would be monitoring them from a facility in Colorado Springs. And once the Biosphere doors closed, the only thing that could open them was Alexia. No one, not even Dr. Hoffman, would be able to persuade her to open the doors early. It was a safeguard programmed to protect the Biosphere mission at all costs. The rules were clear—no communication with the outside unless absolutely necessary.

Dr. Hoffman began the presentation, pacing to the center of the room, where he scanned the crowd imperiously.

“For the sake of everyone else in the room, I'm going to start with a brief introduction of the Biosphere team. We should all know who we'll be watching.” Dr. Hoffman smirked. “In the front row we have Dr. Holly Brown,” he said, turning to the petite blonde, who smiled brightly and waved. “First in her class at Johns Hopkins with a doctorate in psychology. Dr. Brown, you'll be in charge of monitoring your team's mental and emotional health.” He paused and scanned
the crowd. “Ah, there you are, Mr. Roberts,” he said, pointing next at the young, curly haired programmer. “Timothy Roberts, the infamous ex-hacker. Recruited by MIT at seventeen, kicked out at nineteen, and recruited by the federal government at twenty. Isn't that correct? I've been waiting a long time to meet you.”

The programmer rolled his eyes but managed a nod. Dr. Hoffman quickly paced over to the next team member.

“Next we have Saafi Yool, the team's engineer. Mr. Yool was the recipient of a Fulbright scholarship and graduated from Stanford University with a degree in engineering. I understand you are a refugee from Somalia,” Dr Hoffman said, looking down at the slender man whose long legs sprawled all the way underneath the chair in front of him.

“That is correct, Dr. Hoffman,” he said with a warm smile.

“Welcome, Mr. Yool,” he said, moving on to Emanuel. “Here we have Dr. Emanuel Rodriguez. As the team's biologist, you may be the most important member,” he said with a quick wink.

Emanuel took another sip of coffee and continued to stare forward, unmoved by Dr. Hoffman's antics.

“And last, but certainly not least, is the team lead, Dr. Sophie Winston. Graduated from Princeton with a PhD in particle physics, and now one of the world's leading experts in solar weather. I am told that if it weren't for her work during the 2055 solar storms, the results would have been much more severe.”

“I'm not sure about that—” Sophie began to object before Dr. Hoffman cut her off.

“Thank you for being here, Dr. Winston,” he said, locking eyes with her for several seconds before moving back to the center of the room.

“Thank you for the opportunity,” Sophie replied, trying to conceal any disdain in her voice.

“With the formalities out of the way, I'll cut right to the chase. Those of you who know me already know I am not big on small talk. We are all here to achieve the same goal—to test the Biosphere for future space flight. This mission is one of the most important in human history, and I thank you for being part of it. With that said, there are
several rules you all need to know before you are sealed in tomorrow morning. Projector, Alexia.”