“Flores is conscious,” Harris informed his commanding officer.
“Good,” Carter said, gathering his supplies and stowing what was left in the boxes.
Harris walked back to the door and placed his ear up against it. “Nothing,” he said.
Anderson was putting the ammonia packet away and sealing the plastic baggie that held it. “Flores may need help walking.”
“We can handle that,” Carter responded, clipping the boxes to his utility belt and standing. He looked down at Jules. “Seems we’ve retrieved our crew member, but we’re cut off. This may take a while.”
Jules nodded, then listened intently and asked, “Do you hear that?”
Carter shook his head. “Hear what?”
“That just it, Major,” Jules said, tapping her headset. “I’m not hearing anything.”
Carter turned to Harris. “Check the transceiver.”
Harris knelt down by the door and turned the front of the equipment to face him. “Got it. The unit was powered down. Must have done that by accident in our rush to escape.”
The man turned the unit on and the transmission was immediate and urgent. “—opy. Come in. Commander, can you read me?”
Jules had clicked her headset back to auto and spoke. “Neil, I copy you now. How do you read me?”
“Thank God,” Neil said. “Lost you there for a while. Listen, we don’t have time. I’m seeing two of those orbs inbound on the hologram now. I may have to exit the construct. What’s your ETA? Did you find Maria?”
“We have her,” Jules said. “What do you mean by hologram? Is it working now?”
“Affirmative, Commander. It came on not more than two minutes ago and I’m not liking what I’m seeing.”
“Break, break, break,” Doctor Hill’s voice came through.
“We’re a bit busy down here, Doctor, so—” Jules started.
Doctor Hill cut her off. “Understood, Commander, but we’re getting an urgent request from the Red Star’s commanding officer to speak with you. Can I patch him through?”
Jules looked at Major Carter, and the man nodded and whispered, “May be important.”
“Fine, Doctor, put him on our frequency,” Jules said.
There was a momentary delay, then Doctor Hill spoke. “You’re live with Commander Monroe. Go ahead, Commander Temshenko.”
“Thank you,” Yuri said. “Commander Monroe, can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Jules said, speaking as simply as she could in order to facilitate the Russian’s potential limited knowledge of English. “What can we do for you?”
“I think it’s more of what we can do for you,” Yuri began, not waiting for a reply. “I’m authorized to notify you that our special forces unit has received orders to assist you. Be advised that they are in route to you now. ETA is only a few minutes.”
Jules and the SEALs took this information in, and the commander hesitated for a few seconds before she responded. “Yuri,” she began, purposely addressing him informally in an effort to show a modicum of comradery with the man. “Why are you telling us this and who authorized your landing?”
Yuri didn’t exactly take it the way she intended. “Commander Monroe, I’m informing you in an effort to prevent hostilities between our soldiers.”
Olga’s voice was faint but audible in the background. “Blyad.”
Yuri ignored the profanity and continued. “The Soviet Socialist Republic does not require authorization to land anywhere on Mars. We will land where and when we choose.”
“Then why inform us?” she asked.
“I already told you,” he replied. “To prevent hostilities between our respective landing parties and to assist you.”
“Yes, you mentioned the prevention of hostilities,” she said, speaking quickly. “Why do you think we need assistance?”
“Our orders were quite specific,” he said. “They indicate that your party is under attack by forces unknown and that our resources are to be utilized to assist as necessary.”
Jules covered her mic with her hand, and said to Carter, “That seems too vague, and if I’m not mistaken, those Spetsnaz commandoes are inbound anyway.”
Carter covered his own and responded in a whisper, “May as well acknowledge, and you should warn them about the orbs.”
Neil’s voice came across their headsets, anxiety most evident in it. “Ah, I hate to interrupt your conversation, Commander, but I’m running out of time here.”
“Neil,” Jules shifted gears, “close the doors to the interior and use a hammer or drill to destroy the key pad.”
There was a pause before he responded, “Are you ordering me to lock you inside?”
“Just do as I say.”
“Commander, if I destroy the—”
Jules interrupted him. “Neil, we can manually open the doors. You need to get them shut and keep them shut before those alien orbs reach you. Keep the wire intact and close them now.”
“Roger, Commander; closing doors now.”
“Yuri, advise your special forces commander that there are mobile alien units that have injured our party with a metal dart or hook. Let them know that there is definitely danger, and a risk of attack if they enter this construct. Do you understand?”
“I copy, Commander Monroe. Should the team expect an open door, or shall they make their own arrangements for entry?”
Jules answered by addressing her second-in-command: “Neil, once you get the interior doors shut, can you exercise the outer airlock doors? We need to let the ... Russians know whether or not we can enable access for them.”
“Working on it now,” he responded. “Interior doors shut and sealed. Working the outer airlock.”
“You recognize the correct....” Jules trailed off, searching for the correct term.
“Yes, I watched Maria do it often enough,” Neil responded.
“Yuri.” Jules changed her attention back to the Russian commander. “Have you been informed of the weapon inhibitor inside the construct?”
“Affirmative,” he said. “Also, we understand that gravity can also fluctuate.”
“Roger,” she said. “Doctor Hill, monitor their frequency if they need to talk and secure our channel ... now.”
“Understood, Commander,” he said. There was a hissing then clicking sound, and then Doctor Hill said, “Frequency clear, Commander.”
“I hope so,” Jules said.
“How in hell did they know so much about what’s happening down here?” Carter asked, suspicion evident in his voice.
“We did send NASA the latest reports, didn’t we, Neil?”
“Affirmative, Commander.”
“Could they have intercepted our transmissions?” Carter asked.
“Doubtful,” she replied. “More than likely they were given this information by either our own government, for some unknown reason, or they have their own rather efficient intelligence services back home. Either way, it is what it is.”
“Well, we can’t very well stay in this room forever,” Carter said, walking around the room and giving it a good assessment for the first time. He reached the far bay that was still lit with the blue light. “Is this where you found her?”
“Yes.” Jules nodded. “I wouldn’t do that.”
Carter had extended a hand to the edge of the light. He looked at her and she saw the resolve in his eyes. “Understood, but I need to know what we’re up against.”
The man stuck his hand into the light and quickly pulled it back again. He managed not to scream, but his intake of breath was clearly audible, as was the grimace he displayed across his face.
“Son of a bitch, that hurt.”
“I warned you,” Jules said, though her voice conveyed compassion, not condescension.
“Yes, you did, Commander,” Carter said, shaking his hand as if to restore feeling to it. “What kind of fu— ... I mean, messed up alien race have we come across? What kind of species tortures another?”
“It cer
tainly felt that way,” Jules began. “However, I can’t help but think we’re missing something.”
“Well, they sure as hell aren’t,” Harris said from his post by the door. “They seem to have been hitting us pretty well since we arrived.”
Flores had moved to the wall next to the door with assistance from Anderson, who now stood and flanked the other side, opposite Harris, holding his crowbar at the ready. Flores spoke softly from his seated position, back against the wall, barely heard from across the room. “I agree, they’ve hit us damn hard.”
“Look,” Jules began, “I’m the first to admit that I’m not the resident expert on alien psychology or SETI objectives and milestones. I’m sure Doctor Jones and Maria here are far smarter than I on such things, but I did have my head probed by that ... thing there, and it seemed different than just pain. Simply putting your hand in it won’t give you the same experience.”
Carter walked over to Jules, a mere three steps, and knelt again on one knee. “What exactly do you mean by ‘probed?’ Can it read your thoughts, see secrets, things like that?”
Jules had the distinct impression that the major was all business, looking at the alien, blue light experience from the lens of counter-espionage. She shook her head. “No. I think it wants information, but not in a strategic or tactical way.”
“What kind of information?”
Jules searched her memory for the experience and struggled to find the words to convey her thoughts. Finally, she simply said, “I felt like it was ... confused.”
“Wait a second,” Carter held a hand up towards her. “Now you’re indicating it wasn’t simply probing, but transmitting information to you?”
Jules shook her head again and squinted her eyes shut tightly in frustration. It took her a minute to compose herself, and once again, she was grateful that the major seemed to be a most patient man. “It was probing, but during the ... experience, I had a distinct feeling as if ... as if....”
“Go on,” he prompted her gently.
“As if its own intent bled over, back fed into my consciousness; as if I could understand it in a very small way.”
“So you made first contact with this alien entity? It has emotions and feelings?” Carter prompted her.
“No,” she said, looking him in the eyes. “I understood something, but the emotion was all mine. This ... thing had none. It was as cold and calculating as a ... computer.”
“AI,” Harris said, nodding his head.
“Pretty good bet,” Carter said.
Before he could speak further, Neil said, “Outer doors engaged, Commander. Be advised that the cavalry has arrived and it’s Russian. Shall I let them in?”
“Damn,” Carter said. “May as well, and point them back here to us in the Alamo.”
Chapter 10
Retreat
ALIEN CONSTRUCT
93° West, 4° South
Near Tithonium Chasma, Mars
In the near future, Year 4, Day 179
THE ARRIVAL OF THE Russians had an immediate impact. Neil was able to open the doors for them to travel into the outer command room. Using their own tools, they opened the interior doors and dispatched the pair of floating, black orbs that appeared to be waiting for something. Given the instructions to “follow the wire,” the Spetsnaz commandoes reached the second circular corridor that led to where the Americans were.
“I don’t speak Russian, Commander, but I think they’re at your door now,” Neil said.
“Roger that,” Jules responded. “Major, you ready to pry the doors open?”
“I’d prefer to be sure.” The option was taken from him as the doors slowly opened. “Hold your fire,” Carter said, knowing they had nothing to fire, but used the term anyway for the benefit of his men.
The first special forces man was an officer, obvious by the epaulettes on his suit and the red star over his helmet’s visor. He held what looked like a crossbow with a wicked metallic-tipped bolt secured in its launcher. The man said something that was inaudible, though his attempt to communicate was obvious. He gave his weapon to his second-in-command behind him and took his helmet off. “Polkovnik Popov.” The man clipped his helmet to his belt and took his weapon back, pointing it in their general direction.
“No need for that,” Carter said, stepping up to stand in front of the colonel.
The man spoke in Russian, and then the second-in-command took his own helmet off, using his legs to hold his weapon between his knees. After repeating the same movement of securing it to his belt, he spoke with a heavy accent. “The colonel asks if you’ve secured the alien compound.”
“Nothing is secure,” Carter said, never taking his eyes off the colonel, who managed to almost match his stare but was forced to elevate his eyes slightly at the unusual height of the American officer. “Who are you?”
“Sorry, I am Captain Petrov.”
The colonel said something in Russian, then the captain repeated his request and looked annoyed. “The colonel asks if you have this place secured.”
“I won’t repeat my answer,” Carter said.
The captain spoke to the colonel, and what appeared to be a heated exchange took place before the captain asked, “Are there any Chinese troops here?”
“No,” Carter said. “Did you secure the corridor?”
The question seemed to surprise the captain, who hadn’t been expecting one. Reluctantly, he relayed it to his commanding officer, then repeated his reply: “See for yourself. The extraterrestrial units have been eliminated.”
Carter didn’t take his eyes off the colonel for several long seconds before finally stepping to the man’s side to look between the doors and into the hallway. He spoke to his own men now. “Pull the doors all the way open.”
Anderson and Harris complied, and the movement caught the attention of the Russian soldiers in the hallway who either turned their heads or turned their heads and their weapons in their direction.
“Doors open.” Harris spoke the obvious.
The Spetsnaz formation was obvious; two on each side, crouched and training their weapons down each hallway. The dark, ebony floors made it difficult to see, but having ranged weapons was a visible advantage. The remains of several more black orbs also gave testament to the effectiveness of their weapons.
“Satisfied?” Captain Petrov asked.
“Quite,” Carter said, moving back to a defensive position between the Russians and his own astronauts.
“Commander, we have another request to talk from the Red Star,” Hill cut in over their headsets.
“Let him go,” Jules said.
The Russians spoke between themselves, and it took a second before an accented voice came through. “Commander Monroe?”
“Go ahead, Commander Temshenko.” Jules was going to be formal in front of the Soviet special forces officers.
“I must warn you that the alien device near Pavonis Mons appears to be powering up again.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes, the residual bands from gamma to X-ray are increasing, along with static interference across the entire RF range. I fear another attack is imminent.”
“Did you copy, Doctor Hill?”
“Yes, Commander. Do you have instructions for us?”
“Prepare to boost for geosynchronous orbit.”
“But, Commander, that will commit us to an extra year and a half on this mission,” Hill protested.
The announcement got the attention of the SEAL team and they all looked at her intently. “I understand, Doctor, but how many hits do you think our ship can handle before we run out of spare chips?”
“Understood,” he said simply.
“Do you have all shielding in place?” she asked.
John Royal answered: “Yes, Commander, we’re locked up tight as we can be.”
A blast of static followed, then silence. “Monroe to Hill, do you copy? Monroe to Royal, acknowledge.”
“That doesn’t sound good,”
Neil said. “I’ve lost all telemetry and communications with Red Horizon.”
“What about the Red Star?” Jules asked.
“Wait one,” Neil said. After a few seconds, his voice was heard again. “Sullivan to Temshenko, can you read me?”
“Loud and clear, Commander Sullivan. It appears your ship was hit again by the alien device.”
“Roger, we lost communications—do you have a visual on our ship?” Neil asked.
“Yes,” Yuri responded. “She’s dark, but intact.”
“Understood. Are there any messages you want relayed to your special forces team?” Neil asked.
“Negative, we—”
There was a pause, then Olga’s voice said, “Sukin sin,” and the frequency went dead.
“Damn it,” Neil said.
“What’s happening, Neil?” Jules asked, starting to become frustrated and tired from sitting on the alien floor.
“Inform those Russians that they lost their ship as well. It appears the Alpha Target hit the Red Star right after hitting our ship.”
“You understand?” Jules asked the captain.
The man nodded, and said something in Russian before the colonel repeated what Olga had said. The Captain absentmindedly translated it. “Son of a bitch.”
NASA SPACE COMMAND
Houston, Texas
In the near future, Year 4, Day 181
“ARE THE COMMS BACK up yet?” Mister Smith asked from the command center floor, standing next to Rock’s console.
“We’re getting the initiating ‘handshakes,’ and then we should be back up. I’d have thought you and the military would know that by now.”
“No need for that,” Smith said. “You know we’re piggy-backing off the same communication system. Why is it taking so long this time?”
“Unknown,” Rock said, looking across the busy room as telemetry data and notification logs, reports, and documents were starting to stream back in. “Maybe you can take your seat and listen in ... let us do our job.”
“Fine,” Smith said, heading to the rear of the room where a joint console was located, sometimes used by the NSA, other times by various stakeholder departments.
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