Orbs (21 page)

She nodded, and he continued. “
Secundo Casu
is the most sophisticated ship ever built. Its engines were designed to run off several different fuels, allowing it to travel significant distances without having to refuel. Between jet fuel, solar power, and a new classified nuclear reactor, this ship has the ability to make it to Mars in six months. I don't know much more than that—Sophie could explain it in much more detail—but that isn't what you want to hear anyways. What you want to hear is why I believe this ship is no longer a prototype and is instead prepped and ready for space flight.”

Overton stopped twirling his knife and set it on the table. “Go on.”

“As I was saying, Sophie had a very specific dream about this ship on Mars, seeing it in action. And after hearing about the implant, I believe she did so for a reason. I believe it means something.” Emanuel unclasped his hands and stepped forward, placing them palm-down on the table. Jamie and Owen sat on either side of Holly, and as he caught Owen's eye, the little boy smiled.

The action took Emanuel off guard. He was about to tell the team one of his craziest theories yet, and this child had absolutely no idea what was going on. For a second he wished he was in Owen's place, almost completely oblivious to the threats around him. But he was a scientist. He cleared his throat and continued.

“I believe her dreams mean
Secundo Casu
is ready for space flight, and could still be our ticket off this planet. I believe Dr. Hoffman was trying to tell us to go there so we could escape and the human species would survive.”

The room erupted into commotion. Timothy began mumbling beneath his breath, and Overton's curses mixed with Bouma's. Emanuel
took a step back, amazed at their reaction. To him it didn't sound all that unrealistic, but he was a biologist, not a Marine or a programmer.

“Who would pilot the ship?” Bouma asked.

“There are only eight of us—not exactly enough to repopulate Mars,” Overton added.

“You're talking about a prototype, first off. Second, if that ship could make it to Mars, and that's a big if, you still have the problem that it's likely at the NTC Spaceport, over seven hundred miles away from here,” Timothy moaned, his voice garbled by his broken jaw. “I know you guys think I'm an idiot, but we wouldn't survive a trip of seven miles, let alone seven hundred.”

“Timothy is correct; I put your chances at survival outside the Biosphere at less than 1 percent,” Alexia said.

“Enough!” Sophie finally yelled, stepping forward. Silence carpeted the room as all eyes focused on her. She pulled her hair into a ponytail. With a deep breath, she leaned forward, bracing her hands on the metal table in front of Overton. “The Organics are draining the oceans.”

“You just figured this out?” Timothy laughed bitterly. “What did you think they were here for?”

Sophie shot him an angry glare. “Do you understand the ramifications of what I just said?”

He shrugged and put an ice pack on his jaw, unable to meet her gaze.

“Do any of you?” she asked.

“We're all dead?” Bouma said.

“Precisely. I don't know how long it will take for them to drain the seas, but judging by how long it took them to suck up all of the surface water, we don't have long. The temperature is already rising.”

Holly frowned. “Can't we stay in the Biosphere?”

Emanuel stepped to Sophie's side. “Ever seen the data from Mars? That's what will happen to the Earth. No water equals no life, period. We could stay here, but only until our resources run out.”

“What are you suggesting we do?” Bouma asked. “Steal a spaceship and fly it to Mars? This isn't the movies, guys.”

Sophie sighed. “We've been through this before. Do we stay, or do
we risk going back outside? Knowing what we do about the situation outside, no rational person would risk the trip to
Secundo Casu
. We have food and water resources here that will last us months, if not years, and the solar energy will keep the power running indefinitely. The device we retrieved from Luke's bunker appears to be effective, so . . .” Sophie paused. She studied the small faces of Owen and Jamie. There was no way she would risk taking them outside again. It wasn't an option.

“I see two possibilities. One, we all stay here and focus on surviving, hoping there is some arm of the government, the military, or other, better-equipped survivors left to fight the Organics and prevent them from draining the seas. Or two, Sergeant Overton and I try to get to the ship. If it is spaceworthy, then I'm sure I could figure out a way to run the autopilot system and fly it ourselves.”

“Not a chance.” Emanuel pounded the table with his fist. “Have you lost your mind? I can't—I won't lose you.”

Overton shook his head and stood, sheathing his knife. “I'm not a scientist or a doctor. Hell, I don't even have a college degree. But one thing I'm good at is reading people. From everything you've told me about this Dr. Hoffman, I bet he had a few tricks up his sleeve. Luke's RVM was one. And I'm guessing another one was that ship.”

“Sergeant Overton is right,” said Sophie. “I believe Dr. Hoffman knew exactly what was coming, and he also knew there would be no stopping it, regardless of how powerful some super-magnet was. I have no doubt Dr. Hoffman had a contingency plan, and I believe that plan was probably
Secundo Casu
.”

“So who's to say Dr. Hoffman isn't already sipping fine-ass whiskey in first class on his way to Mars?” Bouma asked. He cracked a grin that suggested he knew he had said something clever.

“The video feed of Dr. Hoffman proves they were caught off guard as much as anyone,” Sophie said.

“So where does that leave us?” Holly asked. “Even if you and Sergeant Overton manage to make it to the ship, even if it's operational, what about us?”

Sophie sighed. It was a legitimate question and one she didn't know how to answer.

Think, Sophie.

An image of the RVM they had stolen from Luke popped into her mind and she smiled, snapping her fingers.

“There's got to be a way to re-create or duplicate the technology in the RVM. A way we can leave it here to protect the Biosphere and, at the same time, shield ourselves on our trip to the ship.”

Emanuel ran a hand through his hair. “That's a thought. It could work, theoretically.”

“Alexia, do you think you can figure it out?”

A blue hologram shot out of the console in the corner of the room and Alexia's hazy figure appeared. “Of course, Dr. Winston. I will get started now.”

“You forgot about one key piece to all of this,” Bouma said.

Sophie eyed the Marine suspiciously. “What's that, Bouma?”

“Transportation. What will you be using to get there?”

“Ever heard of the electric train beneath the ruins of the Denver Airport?” she asked.

Bouma shook his head.

“Good. That's a promising sign. Most people didn't know about it. There was a secret bunker built under the airport when it was constructed over sixty years ago. The government built something else there—a high-speed electric train that can top three hundred miles per hour. The tunnel extends seven hundred miles to the White Sands Missile Range near Alamogordo, New Mexico. Which, as Timothy already pointed out, is the location of the spaceport and more than likely the location of
Secundo Casu
.”

Overton grunted. “Wily old bastard. How much of this do you think Hoffman planned? It seems like everywhere we go, we put our foot in another one of his plans.”

“What makes you think that train is still operational?” Bouma asked.

Sophie smiled. “The bunker and train aren't really that different from the Biosphere. They were both built so humanity could survive a post-apocalyptic event.”

Bouma shook his head. “Doesn't mean they work. We'd be traveling
on a gamble.”

“Not entirely true,” Emanuel added. “I once dated a woman who was stationed at the Denver NTC headquarters. Apparently, the tunnels are still operational.”

“And how'd you convince her to tell you that?” Sophie said with a raised brow.

Emanuel looked at the ground and then back at the group. “If we can just reach Denver, I'm sure the train will work too.”

“Sounds like a suicide mission,” Overton drawled. “Count me in.”

CHAPTER 25

B
OUMA
had scooped out the entire contents of the orb in the medical ward. It didn't make much difference; Saafi's body had been liquefied. There wasn't anything recognizable left. Not even his clothes remained.

He sighed, watching as Overton placed the container with Saafi's remains next to a makeshift box containing Private Finley's body.

Sniffles and the occasional whimper echoed off the massive walls of Biome 1 as the team prepared the two men for cremation. Emanuel had suggested their remains be burned, and the ashes used to help fertilize the garden. Considering there was nowhere to actually bury them, Sophie had agreed.

“Would anyone like to say anything?” Sophie asked.

Overton stepped forward. He stared ahead at the remains for several minutes, his back stiff and his posture straight.

“I didn't have the chance to get to know Mr. Yool, but based on what you all said about him, he was a good man.” Overton stepped closer to the small container with Saafi's remains. “I promise you one thing, Mr. Yool—your death will not be in vain,” he said. Then he turned to Finley's coffin.

“Finley was a good Marine. The best. I was hard on the kid only because I knew it's what he needed to be successful. In the few months he was with my squad, I got to know him as more than just the goofball with jumbo ears—more than the high school wrestler who liked fast cars and country music. Private Finley's life was just beginning, but it was cut short by those monsters. I swear to you, Finley, we'll make 'em
pay.” Overton ran his hand over the stubble growing on his head. “He was a good kid. A good man.”

Overton bowed his head and closed his eyes. If Sophie didn't know better, she'd think he was praying. She gave him a moment and then patted him on the back. “Thank you, Sergeant. Private Finley was a respectful and capable Marine, one we will certainly miss. I did not know him well, but from what I saw he served his country admirably.” She paused and looked over at the smaller box that held Saafi's remnants.

“Today we also remember Saafi Yool. He was one of the finest gentlemen I'd ever met. Saafi was a fighter. After he escaped his war-torn homeland of Somalia and made his way to the United States, he obtained an advanced degree in engineering, quickly rising to the top of his field. His life was truly remarkable, and ended too soon.”

She stepped aside and slid back into the group. A small hand gripped hers, and she looked down to see Owen's wide eyes staring up at her.

“Are they going where my mommy and daddy are?” he asked.

“Yes, honey, they are.”

Holly glanced over at her, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Then she bent down in front of the children and said, “Jamie, Owen, I'm going to tell you something now that may be hard, but you're both brave kids and will understand. Okay?”

The two children looked up at her, their eyes wide and full of innocence.

Holly knew that no matter what she said, the kids would likely not understand what had happened to their parents, Saafi, or Finley. But she was from the school of thought that the best explanation for a child experiencing loss was a simple one.

“Sometimes we have to deal with losing those we love and care about. Now is one of those times,” she said. “Your parents, your families, and Mr. Yool and Mr. Finley—they're in a good place now. It's a safe place, a happy place. They can't be with you right now, but you always have your memories.” Sophie looked over at her and offered a short reassuring nod, but Holly quickly saw a sad little frown dawn across Owen's face.

“They're in heaven with my grandma and grandpa and Sam,” he
said, as if repeating something he'd been told before.

Jamie looked down at the ground and began to whimper. “I wanna see my mom and dad.”

Holly crouched to the girl's level and put two fingers under her chin, tilting her face up so she could look at her.

“Your parents would want you to be here now, Jamie. They'd want you to live your life.”

Jamie pulled away. “But I want to be with them now!” she cried.

Holly pulled Jamie to her, letting the little girl cry into her side.

Overton lit a match and placed it under the makeshift caskets. The boxes burst into flames, the scent of gasoline filling the room.

Deep within the computer system, Alexia watched with her artificial lenses, controlling the air ducts so the smoke was filtered and sucked away. A sensor went off and she checked a line of data running across her display.

The team's survival rate had been updated earlier, and somehow she had managed to overlook it. With the recent losses of Mr. Yool and Private Finley, the group's chances of survival had decreased to 15 percent.

Emanuel waded through the lush crops in the garden biome. The scent of ripe tomatoes filled his nostrils, and for the first time he felt like he was actually doing what he had been hired to do.

He checked one of the cornstalks, which were already over three and a half feet tall. Peeling back the tassel, he examined the ear. Several kernels were turning brown. He had foreseen this and grabbed his tablet. With the swipe of his finger he pulled up a list of possible maize diseases that could have this effect. He selected a chemical that would control the blight and made a note to add it to the irrigation supply for this row.

Next on his tour of the crops were the cucumbers. He paused to stare at the area where just a few days earlier they had laid Finley and Saafi to rest. The vines were out of control and jutting out in all directions. He sighed and made note of another chemical he would need.

Overall, the garden was doing well. Even with the introduction of foreign toxins, he would be able to salvage at least 80 percent of the harvest. The food would last them months, but eventually it would run out.

The thought was sobering, but he pushed on. All that mattered now was survival. If what Sophie had dreamed was true, then they were all on borrowed time anyway.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind and made his way past the control room, where Timothy sat in front of one of the monitors playing a game of solitaire to keep his mind occupied. Emanuel chuckled under his breath and continued to the mess hall. Holly was teaching Jamie and Owen basic math on a tablet. Alexia's hologram watched from the console behind them, occasionally offering suggestions or corrections to Holly's instruction.

In the med ward, Sophie and Overton were hard at work retrieving supplies for the anti-Organic shield generator. He paused to watch them strip the panels of the cryo chambers so they could get at the guts of the machine. Alexia had provided them a list of all the items they would need to create a second RVM similar to the one Luke had built. They'd been on a scavenger hunt all over the Biosphere.

“Need something?” Bouma asked from the corner of the room. He sat patiently on a bench, playing on his tablet while waiting to be summoned for a task.

“Just came to get a chemical for Biome 1,” Emanuel said.

Bouma nodded and returned to the blue glow of his device.

A few hours later Overton was in possession of a hunk of metal that looked like a greasy turtle shell. The veins in his forearms bulged as he dropped it on one of the tables in the mess hall where the team had gathered.

Sophie followed him, a wide smile on her face. “It's done,” she said. “Alexia has already confirmed it works. The only thing we need now is a power source to keep it running on the trip to the Denver Airport.”

“That's not the only thing, Dr. Winston,” Overton said, stretching his sore arms. Pain raced down his shoulder, which still hadn't healed completely.

“Transportation to the airport?” Sophie asked, beaming. “Don't worry, I'm already ahead of you on that.”

“What's your plan, Doc?”

Sophie strolled over to the table, staring at the device. She knew they needed something with an energy source powerful enough to sustain it for the duration of the trip. There was one Humvee left on the tarmac, but unless they could find a way to hook it up to the engine without draining juice from the rest of the vehicle, it probably wouldn't work.

Ideas raced through her head. Even with a cloudless sky, solar power wouldn't be potent enough. It would also fail as soon as they entered the tunnels under the airport.

She frowned and glanced over at the console where Alexia's hologram was glowing brightly. “Alexia, what's the most powerful energy source in the Biosphere?”

“That would be my fuel source, Dr. Winston.”

“Really? Is it portable?”

“Protocol is to stay with the facility, but I was designed to travel in cases of emergency.”

“I'd consider this an emergency,” Overton chuckled.

A grin streaked across Sophie's face. “How would you feel about a road trip?”

“That would be acceptable,” said Alexia.

“Corporal Bouma, you'll be in charge of security, and Emanuel will assist with all Biosphere operations while we're gone. Holly, look after the children, and . . .” Sophie paused. “Look after Timothy, too.”

The man scowled from his wheelchair, holding an ice pack tightly to his jaw. “Good luck,” he mumbled.

Sophie decided to assume he was being sincere for once and thanked him. She turned back to Alexia's hologram. “We'll leave as soon as it gets dark. In the meantime, I'm going to need your assistance with removing your fuel cell and hooking it up to the device.”

Alexia smiled for the first time in her existence. It was something she had been saving for the right time, a human reaction she had studied for years. She considered the moment a perfect time to test her hypothesis.

It worked; Sophie returned the smile before pacing over to the
children, mussing Owen's hair with a swift pat on his head. For less than a millisecond Alexia felt a strange reaction trickle through her system. She scanned the constant line of data running across her display. The code was odd, unlike anything she had seen before. It wasn't full of symbols and numbers—it was a statement that repeatedly scrolled across the bottom of her consciousness:

You are feeling happiness. You are feeling happiness. You are feeling happiness.

She was, by every indication, evolving.