Orbs (23 page)

“Alexia, are you able to scan the facility?” Sophie asked.

“Already completed, Dr. Winston. Check the east corner of the room. A preliminary scan indicates there is something covering the entrance.”

“Would have been nice to know before I stuck my neck in here,” Overton growled.

Sophie smiled and patted Overton on his armored shoulder. She paced toward the tractor, and with his help they pushed it forward. Underneath was a circular door.

He could hardly believe it. Without hesitation, he squatted and wiped off the surface, revealing the etched letters
NSA
.

“National Security Agency,” he said, shaking his head.

“It was basically the intelligence branch of NTC before it became, well, NTC,” Sophie said, joining him on the floor.

“Go back to the truck and get the device. I'll try to get this thing open,” he said, gripping the handle and heaving with his back. He pulled harder and felt the cut on his shoulder tighten.

“Fuck. On second thought, help me with this first,” he said. “On three. One. Two. Three!”

They twisted the circular handle, and the ancient door clicked open, revealing a thin sliver of red light.

“I'll be damned,” he said, peeking into the tunnel. “The lights are still on after all these years.”

Sophie shrugged. “You need to start listening to me more often.”

“I will take that under consideration, Dr. Winston. In the meantime, how about you retrieve the RVM?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied with a salute that was only half ironic.

She jogged back to the truck, satisfied with their find. They were one step closer to their objective—one step closer to seeing if Dr. Hoffman had indeed wanted them to proceed to the ship.

The glow of the stars filled her display as she slipped back outside,
but another glow also illuminated the night. Her heart stopped. A hundred yards away were a dozen Spiders surrounding the Humvee. Their heads tilted simultaneously and a hundred eyes studied her.

“Spiders!” she screamed into her com, backing straight into the metal wall. Fumbling for her pistol, she tripped and fell onto the concrete. The pistol went flying and landed several feet away.

Scratch. Scrape. Scratch. Scrape.

The Spiders skittered across the concrete tarmac. She hesitated, calculating the odds of reaching the pistol before they reached her, and then scrambled back into the hangar on all fours. She slammed the door shut and locked it.

Overton darted over to her and leveled his rifle at the wall. A claw punched through the metal like a knife cutting a piece of bread. Dozens more followed, tearing foot-long gaps in the door.

“We have to get to the train! This isn't going to hold them for long,” Overton shouted.

Sophie tried to follow behind him, watching in horror as the Spiders tore through the wall. “But we need the RVM. We need Alexia.”

He grunted, firing off a volley of plasma rounds through one of the openings. A shriek followed as the rounds tore into one of the Spider's shields.

Overton looked down at the single electromagnetic concussion grenade he had taken from Bouma. He didn't want to use it yet, not this early in the mission, but he didn't have a choice. If he waited, they might be dead before he had another opportunity.

“Get to the train. I'll get the device,” he yelled, firing off another dozen rounds.

Sophie hesitated.

“I said go!”

She nodded and disappeared into the glow of red light spilling out of the tunnel's entrance. Overton watched her go and then returned his attention to the wall. The scraping sound of the claws echoed in his helmet. The noise prompted a steady flow of adrenaline to pump into his veins. It was all he needed for his training to kick back in.

Without further thought, he unclipped the grenade, removed
the pin, and dropped it through one of the openings in the metal. It dropped with a hollow click and rolled a few feet before detonating. He shut off his HUD with a blink and closed his eyes to prepare for the blast. The pulse wave ripped across the tarmac, penetrating the creature's defenses. Through the opening, Overton watched the blue glow of their shields pulsate and fail.

One swift kick from his boot sent the door flying off its hinges. It slid across the tarmac, knocking three of the Spiders down. He pulled his .45 from his holster and smiled.

“Time to die, you little bastards!”

He strode out of the hangar with his pistol in one hand and his rifle in the other. The first shots sent two of the Spiders spinning into the night. Another three advanced, and Overton squeezed the triggers again. Two heads and a torso exploded, showering him in blue goo.

High-pitched screams ripped through the night, but he pushed forward unfazed. He fired his rifle at another two monsters still circling the Humvee and turned to finish off three more advancing toward him.

The click of a dry magazine sounded, somehow louder to Overton's ears than the horrifying screams. He tossed the rifle aside and took one knee, aiming the pistol at the remaining two Spiders. Instead of advancing, they circled him, their claws scraping the ground.

Scratch. Scrape. Scratch. Scrape.

He closed an eye and aimed, but resisted the urge. Why weren't they attacking? Was there something they knew that he didn't? Something he couldn't see? It was almost like the fuckers were taunting him.

“Fuck it,” he said and squeezed the trigger. The two bullets whizzed out of the chamber, down the barrel, and into the heads of both Spiders.

Pop.

They exploded like water balloons, their blue blood fountaining into the air. Overton surveyed the gruesome scene. Several of the creatures' limbs twitched on the ground, their claws still scraping the ground harmlessly.

Scratch. Scrape. Scratch. Scrape.

He fired off the remaining rounds in his pistol just to silence them, then glanced over his shoulder at the hangar to gauge the distance
he'd have to haul the damned RVM. The spiked, humanoid head of a Sentinel stared back at him, its reptilian eyes blinking rapidly.

“You have to be shitting me!”

He scrambled to reload his weapon as the monster slithered forward with its massive tail dragging across the concrete. The thing grabbed him before he had time to retrieve a single bullet. It wrapped one arm around Overton and heaved him into the air, bringing him within inches of its face.

“You are one ugly bastard,” he muttered, preparing for the same fate as Finley. He refused to close his eyes. Instead he squinted, studying the alien.

It looked back at him quizzically, tilting its head to one side like it was trying to comprehend something beyond its intelligence. Overton was reminded of a dog he'd had when he was a kid.

That's when it hit him. The Spiders, the Worms, and the Sentinels—they weren't intelligent creatures. There was no way these things had traveled trillions of miles to pillage Earth of its natural resources.

Luke had been right. These creatures were nothing more than foot soldiers in an army controlled by a life-form he hadn't yet met. Overton let out a muffled laugh; he was about to be liquefied by the alien equivalent of a Rottweiler. He faced his fate like a Marine—with his eyes open.

Crack, crack.

The creature's head exploded into pieces, speckling his visor with chunks of blue skin and meat. Overton's mind hardly had time to register the sound of gunfire. He hit the ground with a thud, still wrapped in the creature's limp arm.

Crawling out from under the heavy limb, he pulled himself up and wiped the goo off his visor. Standing twenty feet away was Sophie, still gripping the pulse pistol tightly in her shaking hands. Overton considered yelling at her for taking the risky shot, but changed his mind. The doc didn't have much sense when it came to keeping her ass safe, but she had moxie. Instead he scanned the area for more contacts. His HUD revealed no heat signatures.

He hunched over to pick up his rifle and strolled over to her at a
leisurely pace. “Guess the device doesn't work after all,” he said.

“Not necessarily. They didn't attack until they saw us. I believe they also pick up on movement. When you stopped the Humvee, the drone disappeared. The device appears to distract and confuse them, but it only works if we aren't moving,” she said, her hands shaking. “You know, I did just save your life. Some sort of thank-you wouldn't be out of order.”

“Thanks, Doc,” he said sincerely, placing his hand over hers and slowly forcing her to lower the pistol.

“N-no problem,” she stuttered.

“Where did you learn to shoot?” he asked.

“My dad taught me when I was a kid,” she said. “He, uh, liked to take me to the . . . gun range.”

Overton ignored the obvious lie. “I thought I ordered you into the tunnel.”

“You did, but when I got there I realized I'd lost my gun. There was no way in hell I was going down there without a weapon.”

Overton cracked a grin and chuckled. “You continue to impress me, Doc.”

“Call me Sophie.”

With a nod Overton said, “All right, Sophie. Now let's get the RVM and Alexia. We have a train to catch.”

CHAPTER 27

J
AMIE
stood on the metal bench next to Holly, attempting to braid the psychologist's blond hair. “Why did the monsters come?” Jamie asked, so softly that Holly almost didn't hear her.

Owen, leaning against Holly's side, answered, “My dad said that there's no such thing as monsters.”

“Your dad was right, Owen. There is no such thing as monsters. The things outside are just animals, but from another planet.”

“Animals? Like cows?” Jamie asked, her eyes wide and full of curiosity.

“Sort of like cows,” Holly agreed.

“Cows that want to eat us?” Owen said.

Holly bit her lip and scooted forward, searching for some way to salvage the explanation. “Well, we eat cows, and cows eat grass . . .”

“I'm hungry,” Jamie said abruptly, changing the subject as only a child could. She jumped off the metal bench and clutched her stomach.

“What would you like to eat?” Holly asked.

“Ice cream,” Owen said.

“And cookies!” Jamie added.

Holly laughed. “Let's see what we have in the kitchen, shall we?”

Both children hurried through the mess hall toward the kitchen. Jamie hummed a song along the way, and Owen dragged his filthy blanket on the floor. Holly marveled at their resilience. Just days ago they had both lost their whole worlds. Yet after hours of counseling, it turned out all Holly had to do was mention the word “cookie” to get
them to smile.

Pots and pans clattered as Timothy poked through the cabinets in the kitchen. Holly paused to study him. His behavior was becoming increasingly erratic. It was really too bad she couldn't simply give him a cookie to calm him down, too, but she could always slip a Xanax in his water. It was a compelling thought.

“He's a real piece of work, isn't he?”

Holly smiled, seeing Bouma standing in the shadows of the hallway leading to the personnel quarters. In the dim light he looked stoic, almost like a statue. With his chiseled jawline and short, cropped hair he was the stereotypical Marine, and in a way, kind of good-looking. Besides, it wasn't like there was a huge male population left.

The thought was selfish. She had two children to look after. And one adult who acted like a child. She watched Jamie and Owen tear into a freeze-dried packet while Timothy glared at both of them.

“How are you doing, Holly?” Bouma said. He moved closer to her, his eyes darting back and forth from her to Timothy. He had been watching the man closely, concerned that he would try something stupid with Overton and Sophie gone.

“Good.”

“Okay, good,” the Marine said awkwardly. He'd never been great with women, but he knew the short answer meant she didn't want to talk. Turning to leave he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait,” Holly said.

Bouma held his breath and spun to face her.

“If you ever want to talk, I'm here for you, just as much as I am for my original team,” she said.

“When do the kids go to bed?”

“I'll put them down after dinner tonight.”

“Meet me in Biome 1?”

Holly smiled. A walk through the gardens sounded exactly like what she needed.

“It's a date,” she said. She stiffened, realizing that he might take her at her word. “I mean, um, I'll be there.”

Bouma smiled, trying to hide his crooked teeth. “See you then.”

The blank white walls of the medical ward kept Emanuel at ease, but they also made him drowsy. Sleep had become elusive ever since Sophie had left. He had kept himself occupied by turning a section of the medical ward into a laboratory, where he had begun dissecting the remains of one of the Spiders. He'd performed countless necropsies on animals in his career, but this was by far the most intriguing, and also the most risky. Who knew what unfamiliar contagions or viruses the aliens were carrying? Alexia had left a subset of her personality with the biosphere to monitor its conditions, and Emanuel had put her on standby to run constant scans for potentially harmful foreign substances before he was exposed.

Emanuel finished suiting up by covering the last of his bare skin with a pair of plastic gloves. The Biosphere had not come equipped with hazmat suits, so he had improvised and used one of the NTC suits he'd found in the decontamination chamber. Hopefully that would be enough.

He peeled back a layer of the Spider's translucent skin with a scalpel, clamping it open. Then, with an artist's precision, he used a laser to cut a tiny slit in one of the blue veins running the length of the creature's dismembered torso.

Unfortunately, the rounds from the pulse rifles had made his work very difficult. The Organics' defenses were clearly advanced, with their shields and supersonic shrieks, but without these weapons they were surprisingly fragile. Like jellyfish washed up on the beach, their skin and insides just seemed to melt away.

The specimen in front of him was the most intact he had been able to find. With half a head, a full torso, and two of six legs remaining, it was plenty for him to work with.

As he took a sample of the fluid from the vein, one of the creature's eyeballs popped out of its socket and rolled across the table.

Emanuel couldn't help but chuckle under his breath; there was something almost slapstick about the moment. The sight of gore had never bothered him. And even if it had, he wouldn't let it stop him from
performing the necropsy. After all, it wasn't every day a brand-new alien species showed up.

It was delicate work, yielding more questions than answers. For example: How did the Spiders' defenses work? He saw no indication of an energy source, nor any technology that would create their shields. In fact, he didn't see a single hint of advanced biological functions, which meant they were more than likely just the grunts, conscripted to collect water and resources for their more intelligent commanders.

The thought made him nervous. He had only begun to scratch the surface of the aliens' chemistry and composition. Their fragile bodies weren't what scared him, though—it was the fact that he still wasn't sure who or what was giving them orders. Without specimens of the Sentinels or the worm-like creatures that Overton had described, Emanuel had no way to determine which, if any, was the dominant life-form. It was more likely that they hadn't even seen the superior Organics yet.

And why would they have? If these aliens had the ability to travel across the vast distances of space, why would they risk harm by showing themselves?

Emanuel suddenly felt weary. Humans were never much of a threat to the Organics in the first place. If anything, humans had been a threat to themselves. After all, that's why he was standing in a biosphere designed to help mankind venture into space, the last place they hadn't destroyed.

He peeled back another layer of veins and pushed the questions from his mind. Focusing on his work was the only thing that calmed him. It was also the only thing that helped prevent his thoughts from turning to Sophie. He fumbled with the scalpel and tore several of the veins open. Blood splattered onto his faceplate.

“Shit,” he said under his breath. “Alexia, are you seeing anything worrying?”

“Dr. Rodriguez, my scans aren't picking up anything that registers in my database as toxic. However, there are several elements that are unidentified, and therefore I can't advise on their effect on human biology.”

Emanuel watched the blue liquid trickle down the glass protecting his face. He could no longer feel his heart beating, or the air coming through his nostrils. The sight of the alien blood so close had paralyzed him with fear. “Dr. Rodriguez, is something wrong?” Alexia said.

He shook his head. “Well, I think it just sank in that I'm dissecting an alien life-form, but I'm fine.”

Alexia did not respond, and Emanuel wiped the mess off his face guard. Then he snapped his gloves tightly around his wrists. He compartmentalized the fear by reassuring himself that his work was extremely important to the future of the human race.

He retrieved a vial of the Spider's blood and used a pipette to transfer a sample under the electron microscope. He magnified down to a single cell, moving from one cell to the next.

Hours of studying the sample resulted in little new information. He already knew the blood contained mostly water, but it was the other elements that interested him.

Resisting the urge to remove his glasses and rub his tired eyes, he instead sent the data to Alexia. “Let me know if you see anything I'm missing here,” he said, stretching his back and letting out a groan.

Before he had a chance to straighten his spine, Alexia emerged on the console next to him. His sight was hazy from staring into the microscope for so long, but he could have sworn he saw excitement on her face.

“Dr. Rodriguez. This sample of Organic blood does contain approximately 80.43 percent H
₂
O. However, the other 19.57 percent consists of a substance very similar to plasma. I'm still breaking the data down, but it appears the blood has an electronic component, which likely has something to do with their defenses.”

Emanuel smiled. He hadn't wanted to admit it before, but he was really starting to enjoy having Alexia around.

He moved to another station and flicked the display of the monitor. “Fascinating. Electrovalent blood,” he mumbled, scanning the data again to make sure he was reading it correctly. It was shocking, but at the same time it made sense. The shields were likely powered by the creatures' blood. When they were feeding, their systems must shut
down, and in turn lower their defenses.

The revelation made his heart beat rapidly in his chest. If his theory was correct, then he had just found the Organics' biggest weakness.

A strange, metallic rustling sound rang out in the ventilation above. The noise startled him, and he quickly forgot about the implications of his findings. He froze, listening intently.

Silence.

Emanuel was just about to shrug off the noise and return to his work when he heard the rustling again. It was growing more pronounced, as if something was moving through the ductwork.

He grabbed the scalpel and edged toward the door. Just before he reached the sliding glass panel, he recognized the sound.

Scratch, scrape, scratch, scrape.

Timothy forced an ice pack against his jaw. His face throbbed. The painkillers had worn off. A broken jaw wasn't something that just healed overnight, even with the incredible advances in modern medicine. It would take another week before the bones would be completely repaired and the pain subsided.

A crack in his coffee cup reminded him of the scar on Overton's face. The bastard had given him a scar, too. He grimaced and probed the tender spot where the Marine's fist had made contact. The scar was only an inch long, but it would be a constant reminder of his hatred for the macho Marine.

Timothy had hated men like Overton his entire life. They had bullied him as a child, and bullied him as an adult. But he would have his revenge somehow, presuming the man made it back to the Biosphere alive.

He pushed the anger aside and swiped one of the monitors with his index finger. Several images of the Organics appeared, screenshots captured by the security cameras before the power was cut. Timothy grabbed the mug and took a sip of cold water, savoring it as it ran down his throat. There was a time when he'd have preferred some radioactive-colored, over-caffeinated soda. It was hard to imagine that something
as simple as water would be a luxury—something they would have to ration.

The world had changed dramatically. Things he had once taken for granted had become extinct overnight. No more fast food. No more sci-fi movies on TV. No more internet porn. Timothy wasn't sure he wanted to keep going in a world like that. There was no way to determine how much was left outside, or if there were any survivors who could get the grids running again.

The world was no longer the safe and convenient place he had grown to know and love. He would never be able to FaceTime with his friends on his fancy Apple sunglasses or blog his research to thousands of followers. He realized with a sickening lurch that his entire online gaming guild was probably dead. They wouldn't be fighting dragons together anymore. No, this time the monsters were real, and it looked like they were headed for a total wipe. Game over.

Timothy took another sip of water and focused on the images of the Spiders crawling across the screen. The first picture showed a dozen of the creatures entering the facility. The next showed the same group climbing into an air duct in the briefing room outside the Biosphere. It was when they got inside the facility that things got interesting.

Ten of the Spiders dropped into Biome 4, where they branched off into two groups. The remaining two Spiders never reappeared after entering the ducts from the briefing room.

He scanned the images again, thumbing to the last picture taken before the power had gone out. The other two creatures were definitely absent.

Switching to video feed, he watched the scenes again, tracking the Spiders from the tunnel all the way to Biome 4, where they split up and disappeared. It was like the Spiders had simply vanished.

His stomach growled, reminding him it was time for his lunch ration. He stood, stumbling slightly as blood rushed to his head. It was his first day walking without any sort of assistance, and he was still getting used to it. Fumbling with his chair, he pushed it aside and slipped through the automatic door into the dimly lit hallway.

Somewhere behind him, a faint, metallic scratch tickled the very
edge of his hearing. He halted, straining his ears to make out the noise, but it disappeared as quickly as it had emerged. With a shrug he continued down the passage to the mess hall. He could see Holly and the children were already there, no doubt scarfing down the last of the mac and cheese.

Another growl from his stomach urged him forward. He stopped in the entryway to the cafeteria to catch his breath. Holly looked up from her tray. She had a strange expression on her face. Jamie looked up next. Her mouth opened and unleashed a bloodcurdling scream.