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ALSO BY NICHOLAS SANSBURY SMITH
ORBS SERIES
Orbs
Orbs II: Stranded
Solar Storms
THE TISSIAN CHRONICLES
The Biomass Revolution
Squad 19
A Royal Knight
WHITE SANDS
An Orbs Prequel
NICHOLAS SANSBURY SMITH
SIMON & SCHUSTER
New York London Toronto Sydney New Delhi
CHAPTER 1
DUST swirled around the streetlights before vanishing under the white afternoon sun. Jeff watched the motes pass from behind the dust-caked window of their car, then began counting the poles out of pure boredom.
Fifteen . . . thirty . . .
After a few minutes Jeff grew bored of that, too. He leaned over to his little brother, David, who was completely focused on his tablet. David swiped furiously at the screen before letting out a deep sigh.
“I lost again!”
“Give it here.”
“No. I will beat it!” David said, a little too loudly.
Jeff looked up nervously as their stepmother, Paula, shot them stern looks in the rearview mirror. “Is this how you two are going to act when you’re with your father? Do I need to remind you he has enough on his plate without having to worry about one of you getting into mischief?”
David looked up from his tablet sheepishly. “No. I will be good.”
Jeff kept his focus on the endless sea of sand dunes outside.
“Jeff?” she asked.
“Whatever, Paula. I won’t stress out Dad.”
There was a short hesitation in Paula’s nod. She cleared her throat as if she was going to say something but instead sighed. Jeff knew she was disappointed that he still wasn’t calling her mom, but he was never going to. His real mom was dead, and Paula would never replace her.
Jeff braced himself as the car accelerated. The short screech of the tires reminded him that Paula had a temper. Crossing his arms, Jeff caught her gaze in the front mirror one last time before leaning away from her view.
David had already returned his full attention to his video game, swiping at the screen even more violently than before. With a smirk Jeff scooted closer to his brother and whispered, “This sucks, but at least Dad is taking me shooting.” He watched David’s eyes widen and shift away from the display.
“Shooting?” The younger boy cracked a grin that showed off the newest gap in his baby teeth.
Jeff brought his fingers to his lips and tilted his head to make sure Paula wasn’t eavesdropping. “Shhh,” he whispered. “You aren’t supposed to know, but maybe Dad will take you, too.”
David’s smile broadened and he nodded confidentially. “Awesome,” he said, slowly enunciating the word.
Jeff would have been excited back when he was seven years old as well, but he was turning eleven in a few days and he wanted to spend his birthday with his friends, not at some stupid base. Even with the promise of a visit to the shooting range, he was less than thrilled.
The trip to White Sands Missile Range was an annual one. Each year they would visit their father, a guard for New Tech Corporation, at the new spaceport. In the past, Jeff had marveled at the shiny buildings and sleek spaceships. They were cool, and the other kids were envious of his trips. But Jeff had grown tired of his friends’ stupid comments.
“I heard NTC is conducting alien experiments over there,” one of them would say, or, “NTC is going to take over the world.”
Of course, Jeff didn’t believe any of it. He’d seen enough to know that aliens weren’t real and that NTC was just another lame security company.
Jeff returned his attention to the window as they passed a field of solar panels. The slender blue squares angled toward the sun, absorbing energy to feed the spaceport.
He sighed as he watched the panels zip by. The field only marked the halfway point of the drive and he was already bored. Reaching down, he pushed the air vent open onto his face and sank back in the leather upholstery.
“I did it!” David shouted, screaming in victory.
Jeff looked down at his brother’s tablet. YOU WIN scrolled across the screen.
“Give it here,” Jeff said, gesturing for the tablet.
David looked at him, his brown eyes studying Jeff’s face skeptically.
“Come on,” Jeff insisted.
“No!” David finally replied.
“Boys, what did I tell you!” Paula said, taking her eyes off the road for a second to look at them in the rearview mirror. “I really don’t want to repeat—”
A sudden boom cut her off midsentence. Paula slowed the car to follow a black . . . something streak across the skyline.
“Woah,” Jeff said. He watched it disappear under the glare of the sun.
“Is that a military jet?” David yelled over the thunderous noise.
Paula shook her head. “Hard to tell, but I thought the air force traveled in squadrons.”
Another blast shook the car as the unidentified ship changed its trajectory. Jeff raised his hand over his eyes to shield them from the glare. This was no air force jet. One of the few things he liked about visiting his dad was getting to see the newest military tech—jets that transformed into other jets, rockets that went completely invisible, and drones with guns larger than his whole body. This was not one of them. This was something different—something bigger and more sophisticated.
“I bet that’s one of NTC’s new prototypes!” Paula yelled.
The ship disappeared again in the thick cloud cover. David was already looking back at his tablet.
Jeff searched the sky, trying to catch sight of the aircraft again, but after a few minutes the sound faded away and was replaced by the hissing wind.
“I hope you get to see that one up close during your visit. Then again, even with his security clearance, I doubt your dad will be able to get you into the hangar,” Paula said.
The annoying ping of the turn signal filled the vehicle as Paula pulled her gaze from the sky. The car began to accelerate just as a deafening horn blared from behind the vehicle.
Slamming the brakes, Paula let out a cry. “What the hell!”
Jeff jolted forward in his seat, the belt tightening around his chest painfully. He caught a glimpse of two black Humvees racing by them at what he guessed were speeds in excess of one hundred miles an hour.
A cloud of dust quickly consumed their sedan. Paula sucked in several anxious deep breaths before turning to the backseat. “Are you guys okay?”
Jeff clutched his belt and looked over at David who was whimpering. The tablet’s screen had shattered against the car door.
“You okay, little bro?” Jeff asked.
David held up his shattered tablet up and whimpered, “It’s broken.”
Jeff could see a new set of words scrolling across the cracked screen. GAME OVER.
Peering back up at Paula, Jeff saw the tops of NTC buildings in the distance, their metal surfaces shifting in the heat waves. The buildings quickly vanished in a trail of dust as the Humvees sped onward.
With his heart fluttering inside his chest, Jeff couldn’t help but think that maybe this trip to White Sands was going to be more exciting than he thought.
CHAPTER 2
MICHAEL Fitz propped his robotic leg up on his desk and leaned back in his chair. The mecha
nical sound of his joints wasn’t loud enough for anyone to notice, but he swore that he could hear the clicking in his head. The limb had never felt like part of him. Even the flesh covering it was fake, and the artificial nerves had never really worked properly. Most of the time the leg was numb.
The intercom on Michael’s desk coughed to life and the voice of the NTC watch commander, Alexander Blair, replaced the clicking he knew wasn’t really there.
“Michael, I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your family just got to Gate 1, but we are redirecting them to the civilian zone.”
Michael pulled his leg off the table and scooted up to the com. Running a hand through his thinning hair he said, “What? Why? Normally they get to come straight to the restricted part of the base.”
“Sorry, Michael. We have a situation. All civilians are to be redirected. Access to the spaceport has been cut off. You can see them when your shift is over.” Static replaced the man’s voice for a few seconds before Blair continued. “Not sure what’s happening, but these orders came from the top. Don’t get too comfortable. We may need you.”
Michael stared at the com in disbelief. There was a hint of nervousness in Blair’s voice. He’d heard the signs too many times during his tour in North Africa to ignore—the slight lilt, as if every word were a question, the pause. Something was very wrong. Hardened men like Blair didn’t get nervous without cause.
A hollow silence filled the small office as Michael lost himself in his thoughts. Situation? They had never had a situation before. Sure, there had been protests when NTC first started building the spaceport, a few bomb threats, and the occasional high school student that had tried to sneak his girlfriend into a restricted zone for “star gazing,” but nothing significant enough to lock down the base. The base’s security team had been able to mitigate any threats in the past.
Michael checked the time.
Shit.
He still had thirty minutes left to his shift. If there was a situation, then chances were he would be stuck at the spaceport until it was over. He might not be able to see his family until tomorrow.
Just my luck.
Michael stood and strolled over to his locker where a wrapped present sat waiting for Jeff. This year, Michael had finally decided the boy was old enough to have his grandfather’s rifle—much to Paula’s dismay, of course.
With a sigh, Michael grabbed his own rifle and shut the locker. After strapping the weapon over his metal armor, he slipped his helmet on and took a deep breath of the filtered air. It still smelled like cheap plastic.
NTC was the largest security and science company on Earth. The least they could do was equip their soldiers with a decent-smelling helmet. He took in another breath, grimaced, opened the blast door, and walked into the bright sun.
As soon as his eyes adjusted to the glare he saw the reason for the heightened security. Just above the cloud cover, a ship the size of a small city was slowly making its way to the base. The craft was a monstrosity. He’d never seen one so big. It had to be NTC.
* * *
“What do you mean we’re being redirected?” Paula asked, her head angling out the open window.
“Ma’am. I’m not going to repeat myself. Access to the base has been restricted. You won’t be able to see your husband until his shift is over. Please take a right and head for the civilian quarters.”
Jeff couldn’t tell if the guard was frustrated or not. The man’s voice was muffled by his breathing apparatus. Paula, however, was about to blow a gasket. Her face was red, and had been since the two black Humvees had nearly T-boned their car earlier.
Paula let out a huff. “Fine.”
The tires screeched and Jeff’s head lurched forward.
“Jeez!” he blurted.
“Sorry,” replied Paula as she steered the car toward a cluster of buildings just beyond the guard post.
Jeff caught a glimpse of something on the horizon. Squinting, he climbed up farther on the backseat to get a better look. It was another ship, but he wasn’t sure if it was the same one they’d seen before. There was no deafening roar or quake that followed it as it maneuvered gracefully over the skyline.
“Jeff, please sit down while the car is moving.” Paula said.
He ignored her for the moment, hoping to get a better look.
She sighed and peered into the rearview mirror. “What is it now?”
“Nothing, just thought I saw something,” Jeff said, sliding back into his seat. He forced a smile and clicked his seat belt. When he looked up to gauge Paula’s expression he saw a convoy of trucks speeding down the road in their direction. They were the same sleek black as the two that had almost run them over earlier. He wondered where they were coming from this time.
“Cool,” David said, putting his tablet on the seat next to him.
Jeff pushed his face against the window as the trucks zipped by. He recognized the insignia on the side of the vehicles immediately. It was NTC’s main emblem; blue lettering with a white border and flames in the background. But he didn’t recognize the letters above it.
OOTAS.
“What does OOTAS stand for, Paula?” he asked.
“I can’t remember . . .” She paused and watched the convoy. “I think it stands for the Office of Technology and Science.”
Jeff watched the trucks as they passed. There were ten total. Sure is a lot of security for a bunch of scientists, Jeff thought. The trip was getting more interesting by the minute.
CHAPTER 3
CUT to the chase, Miss Carlson,” Dr. Hoffman grumbled. He looked out the tinted window and caught the gaze of a young boy staring at his convoy as it sped by.
“Sir, preliminary data suggests the Organics will make landfall in less than three hours. HQ is telling us to get the hell out.”
Dr. Hoffman didn’t flinch. He’d known it was coming for years now. Ever since scientists discovered the drone, Eve, he had been preparing. He had several pet projects that were assigned the highest level of confidentiality. The first were the biospheres he’d constructed across the world—advanced vaults that would ensure humanity’s continued survival during and after the invasion. His favorite project was the prototype spaceship, Secundu Casu, which he had overseen from start to finish. There were other ships as well, prototypes like the Sun Spot and the Van Allen. And of course, there was the colony on Mars. With the cards on the table, his bets looked pretty good. He’d spread his projects out over the Earth leaving humanity outs if one project failed.
He glanced down at his watch. The advance team of robots he sent up years ago would be finishing up the Mars facility just in time for the arrival of the first colonists.
It was all part of his master plan.
The look on Amy Carlson’s face, however, reminded him that the clock was ticking. They were running out of time to implement this bold plan.
Amy was bright red, a deep panic engraved in her features. Dr. Hoffman had never seen her like this before. She was only thirty years old. Young for an NTC vice president. But, he’d chosen her because she was a straight shooter, knew how to handle herself in dicey situations, and was respected by his other advisors.
He couldn’t really blame her for her anxiety. She was leaving behind everyone she loved for a chance at survival on another planet. Her loyalty to NTC was unwavering, but even Dr. Hoffman knew there were limits to what his employees were willing to give.
“Sir, more intel coming in over the net.” Amy paused to push her headset closer to her ear. “Jesus, sir,” she said, staring at him. “Satellite imagery has picked up the first images of the alien fleet.”
Dr. Hoffman felt a thrill run through his body. The sensation was something between excitement and pure fear. He’d been waiting for years to hear those exact words—words he always knew would come, but not this fast.
“How many?” he finally asked.
Amy maneuvered herself in her plush leather seat and crossed her legs, bringing the tablet to rest on her lap. With
a quick flick of her index finger the screen glowed to life and a hologram warmed the backseat with an orange glow.
Dr. Hoffman leaned in and removed his glasses. “My god,” he said. At first glance, it was difficult to see the ships against the backdrop of space, but with a flick, Amy had added a new overlay, illuminating all of the crafts.
Hundreds.
No.
Thousands.
All heading straight for Earth.
Dr. Hoffman pulled away from the image and tapped the back of the driver’s seat. “Floor it, son! We don’t have much time.”
* * *
Michael stuffed Jeff’s birthday present into his backpack, throwing the bag around his shoulders as he checked the clock one more time. Five minutes until his shift was over. He’d already changed out of his uniform, and he hoped his replacement would arrive early.
Outside the small bunker, the sun was hovering high in the afternoon sky. A glare reflected off the sleek black spaceship that had landed moments earlier. A crew of NTC workers was already swarming the ship, inspecting every nook and cranny.
It had to be a new model. The ship was four stories tall, double the size of the other NTC prototypes, and the wings were twice as long. He estimated the wingspan in his head.
Holy shit.
They had to be over one hundred meters.
Michael stood there marveling at the craft. Besides a small strip of quartz glass near the cockpit, the ship was completely windowless. The black craft was speckled with hundreds of small hatches that would open once the ship was in space, deploying solar panels to help power the life-support systems.
The blare from a car horn startled him as he turned away from the spaceport. Speeding toward him was a convoy of black trucks. He took a step back from the blacktop to watch them pass.
The armada of NTC vehicles didn’t even slow down as they passed the front of his bunker, where his replacement, Jimmy, had just reported to duty.
White Sands Page 1
