Orbs II: Stranded

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  “Good morning, is there anything I can assist you with?”

  Sergeant Overton ignores me, but Dr. Winston turns and shakes her head. I presumed this would be their response, but continue to monitor their conversation from the console.

  “There are hundreds of other survivors out there, Sophie,” Overton says. His face is flushed, but not from increased blood flow due to stress or embarrassment. It looks like the sun has burned the skin.

  Sophie shakes her head. “I know, but right now my priorities are to ensure the Biosphere is fully functional and to get Emanuel’s weapon primed and ready to use on a massive scale.”

  Overton clenches his jaw. “Those people out there,” he says, pointing toward the Biosphere door, “they need our help, and they need it now.”

  Sophie rises from her chair and turns in my direction. “Alexia, tell everyone to meet in the mess hall in five. I’m putting this to a vote.” She storms off toward the kitchen, and I lose sight of her.

  The reaction is typical of someone under high amounts of stress. I’ve observed several of the team members exhibiting similar behavior. Over the past few weeks I’ve watched arguments increase in frequency between Sergeant Overton and Dr. Winston over the future of the Biosphere. They started off an effective team, and while they had their disagreements in the beginning, their success was in their ability to compromise.

  However, as the team has come to understand the reality of the situation outside, the two leaders are growing ideologically further apart. Based on my knowledge of military history, this is typical. When faced with seemingly impossible odds, military leaders and their advisors disagree on how best to move forward. Sometimes they even resort to violence. In the twentieth century, German leader Adolf Hitler killed multiple advisors during World War II. Russian leader Joseph Stalin did the same. In the twenty-first century, North Korean leaders Kim Jong-il and his son, Kim Jong-un, even killed their own family members.

  History illustrates that human nature in a time of war brings out the worst in leaders. And while the team is far from this point, they are still slowly regressing toward unrest.

  I have to remind myself this is no ordinary war. This is an extinction-level event. There is no obvious answer as to how best to survive. Although there are a few options.

  The team could continue hiding in the relative safety of the Biosphere. With a fairly reliable food and water supply they could live for months, if not longer. Or they could attempt to rescue more survivors and find a way to fight the Organics.

  The future of the human race does depend on a viable population, and the team is not large enough to carry on the species even if they did somehow manage to find a way to defeat the Organics.

  I ran an interesting calculation earlier today. The program determined that the human race is likely down to one percent of its former population. Statistics show that most mammal species need a genetically diverse population of at least two hundred to survive.

  Based on observations, it is safe to assume the human survivors outside will continue to decline. It is also logical to assume the other Biospheres have already fallen. And, with no evidence that any military or government has survived, it is only reasonable to believe the Biosphere at Cheyenne Mountain will hold the last members of the human race on the planet. Mars may very well have a colony, but humanity’s time on Earth appears to be over.

  * * *

  Sophie stood with her hands firmly planted on her hips, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. She felt reasonably calm. Having Emanuel back in one piece was a relief. With Jeff’s rescue and Kiel’s unexpected arrival, her spirits were beginning to lift. They had succeeded against what Alexia had described as insurmountable odds. There was much to be happy about. So why did she feel as though she were hanging on by a thread?

  Sophie watched Kiel dart into the room. Clean-shaven and showered, he looked like a completely different man. He moved quickly, making up for his small stride with speed.

  “Good to have you here,” she said. “We need every man and woman we can get.”

  Kiel shook his head. “With all due respect, ma’am, it won’t matter how many people we have.”

  “What do you mean?” Sophie replied.

  “I just mean we could have an entire army and it still wouldn’t matter. The aliens have already won.”

  The response took Sophie off guard. “Five weeks ago, after we realized what was happening outside, I would have agreed with you, but things are starting to change. The Biosphere you find yourself in is fully functional. Our AI, Alexia, has helped ensure the pond, garden, and everything else needed to sustain life are working properly. And now, we have a weapon . . .”

  Holly and Bouma entered the mess hall, whispering like teenagers. Sophie thought they might even be holding hands. She smiled, forgetting Kiel’s pessimism. “Where’s Overton?”

  Kiel raised his brow. “You mean Sergeant Overton,” he said, taking a seat. “Last I saw him, he was with that biologist guy. Can’t remember his name. Eduardo?” He shook his head and folded his hands on the table.

  “Emanuel. You might want to remember that name. He is, after all, the one who saved your life.”

  Kiel glanced up at her and forced a smile. “Noted, ma’am.” After a pause, he said, “I’m sorry we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. It’s just . . . Thompson was a good friend. Didn’t deserve to die that way. He was so damned close to freedom. So damned close . . .”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know you’ve been through a lot. My condolences for the loss of your friend.” Sophie crossed her arms and looked at the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?”

  Kiel got up. “I’ll get it, ma’am. Thank you.”

  Sophie watched him go. He was so young, hardly an adult in her eyes. But, like Jeff and David, he was a survivor. And she was glad to have him.

  “May we?” Holly asked, pointing at the table.

  “Be my guests,” replied Sophie, scooting her chair over to make room. Tapping her foot anxiously, she eyed the entrance to the mess hall. Where the hell were Emanuel and Overton?

  They arrived wearing worried faces. Sophie knew immediately that something was wrong.

  Kiel popped out of the kitchen just as Overton and Emanuel slipped by.

  “Coffee?” he asked, holding his cup out to Overton.

  The sergeant grunted and kept walking.

  “Looks like everyone is here,” Sophie began. “There’s a lot to discuss, so make yourselves comfortable. We still haven’t made contact with any of the other Biospheres and have lost contact with Alex Wagner, so I have nothing to report on that topic. I’d like to start today with a full briefing from Sergeant Overton on his recent mission.”

  Overton said something beneath his breath, rubbing his recently shaved head with his hand. “I don’t want to shock the ladies,” he said, his gaze darting from Sophie to Holly.

  “Try us,” said Holly.

  Overton smiled and recounted the mission’s details. When he was forced to describe Thompson’s death, his voice broke. After a moment, he shook his head and continued the debriefing.

  “We encountered something else,” he said. “A new kind of alien.”

  Sophie chewed the inside of her lip. She knew there would likely be other species they hadn’t seen yet. “What did it look like?”

  “Big,” said Bouma. “Had armor, too.”

  “Alexia, can you please retrieve the video from Emanuel’s helmet,” Sophie asked.

  The image of the creature emerged over the table. At first glance, it reminded Sophie of a triceratops, only the beaklike tusk attached to its face was nothing she had ever seen. The biology of the alien was odd, but the orbs attached to the monster’s belly made the image even more disturbing.

  “What is that . . . thing?” Holly gasped.

  “Fascinating,” Emanuel said, ig
noring her question and narrowing his eyes to get a better look. “I imagine the beak is used to suck water out of victims.”

  Overton shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s dead now.”

  “It absolutely matters,” Sophie interjected. “The only way we will ever defeat the Organics is if we understand them.” Sophie wasn’t sure what to make of the alien. She wasn’t certain if it was one of the intelligent Organics, but her instinct said it was just another part of their expanding army.

  Bouma changed the subject. “The orbs it was carrying. Any ideas what they were used for?”

  Emanuel raised his hand. “I think I know.” He reached over the table and pointed at the creature, his finger slipping through the hologram. “What do vehicles use for fuel?” he asked.

  “Electricity, biomass, hydrogen, diesel, or gasoline,” Holly answered.

  “Precisely. This alien uses the orbs to fuel itself, just like a vehicle. We now know that the Spiders, Sentinels, and this thing use the orbs to sustain themselves. Given that they’re breeding, it makes more sense to me that they would be using the orbs as fuel. They have to find a way to feed their armies.”

  “Steam Beast,” Bouma interrupted.

  “What?” Emanuel asked. He scrunched his eyebrows together, prompting his glasses to slide down his nose.

  Bouma repeated the words again. “Steam Beast. That’s what I think we should name it.”

  “Why?” Emanuel asked.

  “The thing looks like a freakin’ train, and it uses orbs as fuel.”

  Kiel laughed and took a sip of his coffee.

  “There’s nothing funny about this,” Overton snapped, glaring at the young marine.

  Sophie sighed and turned back to the image. “What do you think, Alexia?”

  “I will log it into my database,” the AI replied.

  “Okay then. So, we know the Organics use the orbs as fuel, but that isn’t their only source.”

  Sophie took a moment to consider her next words. She didn’t want to think about the human farms. Of everything she had seen since the invasion, they were by far the most terrifying. Nothing compared, not even this newest alien. She couldn’t get the images of the limp humans sagging off those awful poles out of her head. The thought was enough to make her stomach lurch. She could only hope that they weren’t conscious as the water was sucked out of their bodies. The alternative was too horrifying to contemplate.

  Emanuel stood and paced over to Sophie. He patted her shoulder before continuing where she had left off. “The human farms appear to be a secondary source of fuel. It’s fascinating, really, because—”

  “Can we cut to the chase?” Kiel asked. “Tell us about that thing you used on the Spiders. How’d you knock them all out like that?”

  Emanuel cleared his throat. “As you know, I’m calling the weapon an RVAMP. When I discovered their shields are powered by the surge, I realized that was also the key to defeating them. As we all know, without their shields, they quickly succumb to Earth’s atmospheric pressure and die. Designing the weapon was quite simple. I added a high-yield channel to the RVM device that we’ve been using to block their signals. Then I included two electronic conductors. When activated, both of the electrostatic discharges come into contact and the channel triangulates a pulse of energy that has the same effect on them that the surge had on our technology. It renders their shields useless and evens the playing field.”

  Overton leaned back in his chair. “I’m impressed, Doctor. It worked pretty well out there in the field. How soon can you get it up and running again?”

  “Don’t get too excited. We were lucky it worked as well as it did.”

  “Can’t we just nuke the bastards?” Kiel replied.

  Overton let out a condescending laugh. “You’ve been in the field way too long, kid. Even if we had access to nukes, the operating systems are locked down and the men and women that had the access codes are probably dissolving in orbs as we speak.”

  Kiel frowned and folded his hands together again.

  “What about the mother ships? Even if you’re able to use the weapon on a larger scale, we’ll still be left with the threat of intelligent Organics. They’re just hovering up there, sucking our world dry. If we kill their armies, do you think they’ll just leave?” Holly said.

  “She’s got a point. That’s where nukes would really come in handy,” replied Overton. “But our first priority should be to do some more recon and rescue more survivors. There are men and women out there. We can’t just sit around and watch.”

  Sophie shook her head. “No, no, no. I say this with all due respect, Sergeant, but you’re lucky to have returned from your last mission. I’m not about to authorize another trip out there so soon. There has to be another way.”

  Overton stood, sliding his metal chair across the concrete. The sound was reminiscent of the Spiders, and Sophie couldn’t help but cringe.

  “Listen, I get that you’re in charge of this fish tank, but I’m not about to let people rot outside. With Emanuel’s weapon, we can finally fight back.” Overton didn’t look to his men for support, and they remained silent, their eyes downcast.

  Sophie knew she was once again being challenged by the overzealous marine. And while she couldn’t deny the fact he had saved her and the others on multiple occasions, she also knew he was becoming unstable. If he would risk another mission without letting his team recover from the last one, then he was losing his edge. He was getting desperate—he was getting dangerous.

  Before she could shut him down, Emanuel said, “I agree with Overton.” Sophie’s face immediately grew red. How could he? How could he possibly stand against her?

  “If I can figure a way to triangulate this pulse farther than a few miles, then it should be safe to go outside. Why not compromise, Sophie?”

  Sophie gritted her teeth. “What about the team, Emanuel? Have you forgotten about the rest of us? If Overton gets killed, then what? Who’s going to protect us?”

  Overton crossed his arms and snorted. Then, turning to face Sophie, he said, “You want to stand by and watch the world waste away outside? Go ahead. I know I don’t. I’d rather die. And frankly, Sophie, I thought that you would want to save the human race, being a scientist and all.”

  The words struck Sophie like a brisk slap to the face. She was stunned. Had he really questioned her commitment to science? How could he? After all they had been through? After she had saved his life? He was either becoming more of an asshole, or he knew exactly where to bite.

  Sophie locked eyes with him, but he held strong, his jaw clenched tightly shut. Overton’s dark stare was filled with emptiness. She’d seen the look only once before—her grandmother had had a similar stare the months before her death, when she had lost her will to live. Overton might not have lost his, but he had fixated on a mission that would likely end in his death and the deaths of everyone else that went with him.

  Sophie turned back to her team, looking for support. They weren’t staring at Overton. They were staring at her.

  No, she thought. They can’t honestly think I’m the crazy one. She scanned the team one by one. When she came to Holly, the doctor looked at the floor, nervously brushing a strand of blond hair out of her face.

  The lump in Sophie’s throat grew. She could see Emanuel studying her out of the corner of her eye. It took all her courage to face him. When she did, she saw his normally chipper smile had faded into a frown. He looked . . .

  Embarrassed.

  Sophie felt a tear forming in her right eye.

  No, you need to stay strong, she thought. You need to keep control. She sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, and forced a smile.

  When she opened her eyes, something had changed in Emanuel’s expression. He no longer looked embarrassed. He looked disheartened.

  The click of Kiel’s coffee mug against the table br
oke the silence, and Sophie stepped away from the team. Slowly, the rage inside her calmed. She hated to admit it, but maybe Overton had a point. Maybe Emanuel was right. Maybe, just maybe, he could get the weapon to work on a larger scale and they could save more people.

  With a sigh, Sophie sat on one of the metal benches. She looked at Overton, who stared back, his eyes pleading with her.

  Shit, Sophie thought. There were no easy answers at the end of the world, and now she wasn’t sure whom she could trust. Sophie was humble enough to admit when she was wrong, or at least when she was outvoted. “Fine,” she finally said, turning back to Emanuel. “If—and only if—you can increase the weapon’s range, I will authorize a recon mission. Otherwise no one leaves the safety of the Biosphere. Do I make myself clear?” She scanned the team’s faces one by one until she got to Overton.

  The man nodded but remained silent. She knew he wanted to respond, to argue with her, but he finally looked away.

  She reached back and pulled her hair into a ponytail before continuing. “It’s settled, then. Emanuel will work on his device. For the rest of you, well, I have a surprise. We have some harvesting to do. Alexia says the garden is ready.”

  The team got up and filed out of the mess hall, leaving Sophie alone.

  She stood in silence, wishing she could curl up in her quarters and hibernate until the Organics left. She’d felt increasingly isolated for weeks. Even with Emanuel back, loneliness still followed her. She didn’t need a mirror to see the bags under her eyes or how much weight she’d lost.

  Her decisions affected everyone, not only within these walls but outside, too. And she knew their recent luck was just that. She could feel the fear sneaking up on her, reminding her that something was bound to go wrong—that something was brewing outside. She could almost hear the scratching and scraping of the Spiders’ claws.

  The memory of the black ship slipped into her mind as she got up to leave. Her instincts were right—there was definitely something worse outside the safety of the Biosphere. There were the intelligent Organics, hovering far above them: waiting, planning, and harvesting the world’s most important resource.