Orbs IV_Exodus_Post Apocalyptic Science Fiction Survival Thriller

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  “Yes. Then please fucking do that!” Bouma said.

  All at once, the lights flickered on. Terminals whined to life and displays glowed. Alarms barked and flashed until Diego slammed his fist on a command to mute them.

  “Now, select the emergency override reset command,” Sonya said. “You will need a second person to validate the command at the nav panel.”

  Diego nodded and ran to the nav panel. He reached toward it to confirm the command. Before his fingers touched it, the entire CIC shook with a violent fury. A monstrous roar blasted into the chamber. Part of the bulkhead near Ort bent inward.

  “Ho-ly shit!” Ort said, scrambling to regain his balance.

  The bulkhead started to tear. Metal screamed in protest.

  “Hit that confirmation!” Bouma yelled.

  Diego regained his footing and slammed his fist against the panel. All at once, a loud thrumming filled the CIC. The ship quaked, as if preparing to take off, and a host of new alarms flashed across their displays.

  “Reactors have been reengaged and overloaded,” Sonya reported. “Catastrophic failure imminent. I estimate we have no more than ten minutes before the first reactor experiences meltdown.”

  “Let’s get the hell out of here!” Diego said.

  The bulkhead continued to bow inward. Claws pressed through the twisted metal, and a spider forced its head in. Its mandibles ripped back, and it let out a scream of animalistic fury.

  “RVAMP?” Ort asked.

  “If you use the RVAMP in here, you’ll fry the CIC’s systems,” Bouma said. “We can’t risk that!”

  Ort battered the spider’s head with gunfire. The rounds slapped uselessly against its shield. It didn’t even bother recoiling. Other claws forced their way around the spider’s head, desperate to get at the humans.

  “If we don’t use the RVAMP or EMP grenades on these bastards, we’re not getting out the way we came in,” Ort said.

  Bouma looked around the CIC for an alternate exit. All the scratching and screaming and clawing pressed on his mind. Other bulkheads were now bending inward, yielding to the Organics’ attack. There would be no escape back through the ship. He felt as if he was stuck in a closing garbage compactor, watching the walls press in on him. Already he could hear his bones crack and flesh tear. The Organics would be on them soon, and even if they outlasted the aliens, they would die in the exploding reactors.

  “Can’t go through the corridors,” Bouma said, “so let’s make our own.”

  He pointed to the wide viewports at the front of the CIC.

  Diego looked between the bending bulkhead hatches and the clear polymer viewports. “We’re going to have to blow them, Ort.”

  “This is insane, LT. Can’t use EMPs, but explosives are okay?” Ort said.

  Sonya appeared on the CIC’s fizzling screens. “The circuits controlling the power systems are better insulated against physical forces than they are against internal electromagnetic disturbances on the scale of your RVAMP device.”

  “Whatever you say.” Ort nodded, and began setting a chain of explosive grenades along the edges of the viewports.

  The AI continued. “It is better to—”

  Sonya’s image suddenly distorted, then was replaced by that of an unfamiliar AI. This one appeared garbled by a static snowstorm, its features elongated and blurred.

  “I have… an important message,” the AI said. Its face came into focus briefly before growing pixelated once again. Every word came out agonizingly slow. Bouma wanted to wrap his fingers around the AI’s shoulders and shake it. “I am… Evangeline, the native AI… of the Radiant Dawn. Thank you… for bringing me online… again.”

  Bouma stood transfixed in front of the screen. It took only a second before a spider’s bloodthirsty cry and the sound of tearing metal knocked him back to his senses. “Do you know where the colony is?”

  “The location of the… colony… is… transferred to Sonya. I apologize… for the data… my systems are not fully functional.”

  “Is it safe from Organics?” Diego demanded.

  “I… cannot answer… that with… certainty,” the broken AI said.

  Bouma glanced at the time display on his suit’s HUD. They had only a couple of minutes left before the ship went up in flames.

  “Just send us everything you do know through Sonya!” he yelled at Evangeline. “We’ve got to go!”

  “Our damaged communications array… was unable to send you… the rest of our message,” the AI said. “I would like… to amend it. ‘Danger: high Organic presence detected within the vicinity of the Radiant Dawn. It is not recommended to land near this vessel.’”

  “Oh, no shit?” Ort said, the sarcasm loud and clear amid the roars of the Organics tearing into the CIC.

  “I estimate the friendly AI is too corrupt to provide any more useful data,” Sonya reported.

  “Then I estimate it’s time to go,” Diego said. “Blow the screens.”

  In Bouma’s mind’s eye, he saw the wreckage of all the other ships that had landed near the Radiant Dawn. Maybe they’d come to offer aid or, like the Sunspot, this was the only human signal they’d detected on Mars. Either way, if, by the grace of God, there were others out there making the journey from Earth to Mars, they might intercept the same signal. Even if they destroyed this ship, other AIs might be relaying the message, and more humans could be headed this way. His thoughts turned to Captain Noble. Surely that surly old seadog and his crew would find a way off the planet. Bouma would be damned if they didn’t at least try to warn him that the Radiant Dawn was a trap.

  “Wait!” Bouma said before Ort could set off the explosives. Ort shot him a bemused look. The Sunspot’s comm arrays had been damaged just like the Dawn’s had. But maybe… “Sonya, send an encrypted warning to all human AIs that might be out there. Tell them about the Dawn, and the Organics on Mars. They have to know that there’s someone on this planet, but don’t let them fall into this trap.”

  “It will be difficult to ensure the integrity of such a communication with either the Dawn or the Sunspot,” Sonya said.

  “If we’re lucky, enough of the message will get through from each ship that someone back on Earth or flying through space will get it,” Bouma said.

  “As you wish.” Sonya paused before relaying a new message. “To anyone that’s listening, this is AI Sonya of the NTC Sunspot, broadcasting from Mars. We believe we have located the colony, but there are also Organics here and no sign of humans. Standby for more information.” She sent the coordinates and then said, “I’ve programmed this as a repeating broadcast.”

  “Good,” Bouma replied. He flinched as one of the hatches tore off the bulkhead. Broken pieces of displays and terminals flew with it, clattering about the CIC. The shuddering from the overloading reactors grew more violent.

  “Blow the viewports! Now!” he yelled.

  Ort depressed the button on his detonator. The reinforced polymer viewports blew away. The tug of the changing atmospheric pressure was immediate. Wires and chunks of broken terminals shot out the fresh wound in the CIC and across the bow of the Radiant Dawn. A loosened command chair tumbled toward Bouma. He twisted out of the way.

  The tentacles of the changing atmospheric pressure wrapped around his limbs and tore at him, pulling at his armor. Over the storm of noise around him, he heard shouting. Howling winds, ricocheting blasts of shrapnel, roars from the overloaded reactors, and frustrated Organic screams drowned out the voices of his teammates.

  He fought the instinct to grab hold of something, and let his body succumb to the violent wind. Everything around him blurred. His body was lifted into the air and carried out of the CIC as if by a tornado. He tucked into a ball to prevent his limbs or head from slamming into anything on the way out.

  As soon as he cleared the jagged remains of the viewports, everything went silent. He was suspended in the air for a few moments before the low gravity carried him back to the planet’s surface. He tumbled across th
e dirt. Ort and Diego hit ground a few feet away, leaving small craters in the red soil.

  “That was a hell of a ride,” Ort said, lifting his huge frame up from the dust.

  “It’s not over yet,” Diego said. He pointed at the Rhino. “If we don’t hurry, we’re walking.”

  They dashed across the soil, bounding and leaping. The throbbing pain of exhaustion and lactic acid seeped into his overworked muscles. He didn’t let that hold him back until they stormed into the Rhino. When he shut the hatch, a wave of relief surged through him. Diego jumped into the driver’s seat.

  “Go!” Ort yelled.

  The vehicle roared off. The vehicle’s whirring electric motors never sounded so sweet as that moment when the Rhino carried them away from the stricken Radiant Dawn. Diego gazed straight ahead, his focus fixed on the path ahead.

  That gave Bouma a moment to assess which, if any, of the Organics were following them. They were forcing their way out of the hole in the CIC now. Spiders leapt down toward Mars’s surface. Nothing they couldn’t handle with their remaining ammo and a solid RVAMP blast.

  A guttural screech followed, and Bouma snuck a glance over his shoulder to see the one thing they couldn’t take down. The massive frame of the Sentinel, emerging from the gaping hole in the ship. Its reptilian body squeezed out of the torn metal as if it was hatching from a giant, silver egg. It reared back, and its jaws opened to let loose a roar. Rows of teeth gleamed in the weak sunlight.

  The Sentinel slithered down from its perch as a tongue of blue plasma cut through the belly of the Radiant Dawn, a column of azure that torched into the sky. A second later, more fingers of plasma pierced the Dawn’s hull. Then a sudden flash of white light swallowed the entire ship. Organics thrown from the Dawn turned to ash in the resulting explosion. The ground trembled, shaking even the Rhino as it raced away, and a rolling cloud of dust swallowed them.

  The men each ducked, to avoid any shrapnel that might pierce the Rhino.

  Bouma tried to temper the swell of victory as he watched the mushroom cloud form. The war wasn’t over yet, but watching those Organic bastards go up in flames sure felt like a victory.

  “Boom, boom,” Diego said, making his fingers into a gun and aiming it back at the burning wreckage.

  Bouma took off his helmet and mopped his brow with his glove. They had barely escaped with their lives, and were returning without the supplies they desperately needed. But they had found a piece to the puzzle about the fate of the colony. Even better, they had prevented any other humans from meeting the same fate as that graveyard of ships.

  That didn’t help Sophie, though. She was going to die if they didn’t find more cryo fluid. And if they didn’t locate supplies, everyone was going to die. How much worse could it get?

  Emanuel’s voice crackled over the comms. “Bouma, do you copy?”

  “Copy.”

  “We got more Organics incoming.”

  “From the dust storm?”

  “That’s right,” Emanuel responded.

  “Yeah, we heard,” Diego said. “We’re getting our asses back there as fast as we can to help. But we took care of the bastards at the Radiant Dawn.”

  “I saw,” Emanuel said.

  There was a pause over the line. Bouma had worked with Emanuel long enough to know what that hesitation meant. A knot in his gut tightened.

  “It’s worse than we thought,” Emanuel said. “Sonya’s initial estimates were off. We’re not talking about dozens of Organics. We’re talking hundreds.”

  ***

  Diego let the cold wind of the airlock blast over him. It felt damn refreshing after everything they’d been through. He could focus on this moment forever, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. The small comfort between two hells.

  Emanuel met them on the other side of the airlock with a harsh bite of reality. “Sonya estimates at least three hundred Organics are using that storm as cover.” He led them away down the corridor. “There may be even more headed our way now, but it’s impossible to discern with all the noise from the storm.”

  “I knew that blast wasn’t going to go unnoticed,” Diego said.

  “Yeah. It may have saved us, and given us a bit of time, but now we’ve let every Organic in the region know we’re here,” Bouma said.

  Diego rubbed his scalp. His hand brushed over the short bristles of hair, coming away doused in sweat. Body odor trapped in his suit found a way into the corridor, filling it with the scent of battle.

  “Any chance you got the ship in flying condition while we were away?” he asked, hoping for a shower.

  “The ship isn’t going anywhere, and we can’t stay here. Not with that horde barreling down on us,” Emanuel replied.

  “What about Sophie?” Bouma asked.

  “Holly and I have prepared her cryo chamber for transport. We’re going to need you guys to help load her into the Rhino. At least we can take her with us.”

  While we figure out what the hell we’re going to do with her, Diego thought. He wondered if it was even worth trying to bring her with them. She was as good as dead. It didn’t make sense to lug her around when what they really needed was to get out of here as fast as possible. But there was no way he could tell Emanuel that. It would only waste time, and add more stress to the situation. Tension was the last thing they needed right now.

  He tried a different tack. “Do we know where we’re going?”

  “Yes and no,” Emanuel answered. “Sonya has analyzed the rest of the message that was supposed to have been sent from the Dawn. We have a rough idea of where we need to go, but the Radiant Dawn’s AI was too damaged. It didn’t give us a precise location.”

  “That’ll have to be good enough,” Diego said. He looked out through one of the portholes. The dust cloud was growing closer, and with it, the flicker of blue. He pointed out toward it. “Any direction is better than that one.”

  “Any idea what kinds of Organics we’re looking at?” Bouma asked.

  “Hard to say, but the odds aren’t good.” Emanuel shook his head and so did Bouma. They entered the medical bay in silence.

  Holly was tending to Jamie and Owen, who were being woken up from their induced slumbers.

  “Wish we could just stand our ground. I don’t like the idea of running right now,” Bouma said.

  “The Rhinos aren’t exactly meant for holding a crew long-term either,” Diego agreed.

  “We’ll make them work,” Emanuel said. “Our only chance is to run. Even if we could defeat this wave, they now know where we are. We can’t hold this position forever.”

  “Ort, gather up all the ammunition and weapons we’ve got left,” Diego said. “Bouma, help him.”

  The two disappeared into the depths of the wrecked ship.

  “Can we move Sophie now?” Diego asked. Moving her chamber was going to be the hardest part of loading up the Rhino. Diego preferred to do that first in case they ran into any unforeseen complications.

  “Yes. Like I said, she’s ready,” Emanuel said. He pointed to a motorized cart waiting to transport the cryo chamber. All the cryostat fluid tubes had already been attached to a mobile fluid filtration and oxygenation system. The difficult task would be positioning the chamber on the cart without losing control of it. Normally, the chambers were transported without people in them, so the carts weren’t designed with sufficient redundancies to protect human life.

  “How are the kids doing?” Emanuel asked Holly.

  “They’re coming to. The biomonitors point to full recovery for each of them. They’ll be a lot better out of their chambers for this trip.”

  At least that was a welcome bit of news.

  “Good. Jeff and David?” Emanuel asked.

  “Running up to check on them next,” Holly said.

  Diego positioned himself near Sophie’s chamber and snuck a glance at her as they prepared to move the chamber.

  “When I unlock it, we need to slide it over these rails.” Emanuel pointed to the h
alf-meter-long track that ran from the chamber to the cart. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “On three. One, two, three.” Emanuel hit the physical release button.

  Pistons hissed as they drew back from the chamber’s scaffolding. The heft of the chamber pressed hard against Diego. While the cart and track system carried most of the weight, it was still enough to push Diego backward. His heels slid across the smooth deck. He pressed his weight against the chamber, working desperately to slow it lest they lose control.

  He stared hard into the chamber. Eyes closed, her light hair drifted around pale features that looked almost translucent. Blue vessels shone under her flesh, and her muscles flexed. Despite the state of her body, there was a calmness in her expression.

  Diego had been there when she’d activated the RVAMP that had fried nearly all the nanobots in her bloodstream. He’d seen the pained expression on her face from a distance, and then she’d fallen unconscious.

  Now she seemed peaceful. That had given some comfort to Emanuel, and Diego now saw why. But he couldn’t help wonder if she had any idea what kind of hell was erupting around her. All because the others were determined to save her life.

  “Push!” Emanuel said, breaking Diego’s reverie.

  They slid the chamber onto the cart, and both men let out a long breath of relief.

  “Thank you,” Emanuel panted. He started to move the motorized cart toward the corridor, but paused. “I appreciate what you did back at the Dawn, and I want you to know I’m grateful.”

  “No problem, Doc,” Diego said. He studied Emanuel’s sincere expression for a moment longer. It was then he realized how different the dynamics of this team were compared to any other he’d fought with. Except for Bouma, they were academic types and children, for God’s sake. And, somehow, they had survived the nightmare when hardened soldiers like him had fallen at the claws of the Organics. Part of that was because men like Sergeant Overton and Captain Noble had sacrificed themselves so these people could live.