The Orbs Omnibus

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  “Something spook you?” Overton asked.

  She ignored the question and strained her ears for another few seconds before following him into the shadows. They had to have been over fifty feet beneath the surface, and she was getting more nervous with every step. Things simply didn’t add up. Something about Luke made her feel uneasy—something about his robotic voice and small, hazel eyes.

  She didn’t trust him, but she didn’t know why.

  And although she had delegated security details to Overton, she couldn’t help the impulse to micromanage. As she glanced at the sleeping girl, her long-buried maternal instincts stirred. She’d always been a little disdainful of her colleagues who dropped out of the field to have kids. After meeting Emanuel, she’d started to come around to the idea, but somehow it had never been the right time. The distance between them, new projects, and her own insecurities had conspired against the both of them.

  With a sigh, she reached out to brush the girl’s hair from her face.

  Sophie didn’t have the heart to wake her. Not yet—not until she could guarantee the girl’s safety, something she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to do. The thought frustrated her. She could only imagine what the poor child had already gone through. The possibilities sent a wave of grief through her tired body. She ignored it and continued on, stopping only momentarily to hand her helmet to Finley so she could pull her frizzled hair back into a ponytail.

  “Keep an eye on that guy,” she whispered to the young Marine.

  He narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  They rounded a corner, and the passage widened into a chamber about fifty meters across. It was divided into two sections. One appeared to be some sort of living quarters, with several bunk beds resting against the jagged rock walls. Next to the beds were two chemical toilets cordoned off by a few carelessly hung sheets.

  Not exactly keen on privacy, Sophie thought.

  In the corner was a pyramid of boxes labeled MREs and several crates of bottled water. The area looked to be mostly unused. What was even odder was the fact the space was built to shelter more than one person. Where were the others?

  “This way,” he said from a few paces ahead.

  The team passed into the smaller part of the chamber. In the center of the room sat a large wooden table and a red leather couch. Not exactly what Sophie had expected. Lining the walls were dozens of monitors sitting atop portable metal desks.

  Sophie approached the computers. The setup was complex. Sophisticated. Not the type of hardware the average person had lying around.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Luke cautioned. “Give me a second, and I’ll explain everything.” He strolled over to Bouma. “Why don’t you put her to bed on the couch?”

  Overton gave the slightest of nods, and Bouma laid the girl down and draped her with a tan blanket.

  “This way,” Luke said in the same monotone voice.

  “Mind if Private Finley here pulls sentry duty?” Overton asked.

  Luke halted and cocked his head, looking first at Finley and then back at the sergeant.

  “No point in doing it down here; the door’s secured from the entrance of the house. But if you think that it’s necessary I would post him on the second floor.” He turned his attention to Finley. “Remember that staircase when you came in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take that to the second floor and then make your first right. The office has a perfect view of the frontage road. You’ll be able to see any contacts long before they see you.”

  The young Marine looked at Overton, who gave the command. “Get it done.”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, taking off back the way they’d come.

  “Anything else, Sergeant?” Luke asked.

  “No. Carry on,” he said, watching the man sit down at one of the computer terminals.

  “So, as I was about to say, when I was a younger man I founded a tech startup. My business was in magnets.” He paused to glance quickly at Sophie before continuing. “Long story short, I sold the company five years ago for a sum just shy of a billion dollars. I spent a few years traveling the world and then settled here on this modest property,” he said pointing to the low ceilings of the cave. “I did so because I wanted a place to further my research, and the granite caves provided me the perfect opportunity.”

  Luke spun in his chair and swiped one of the monitors with his fingers. A hologram shot out of a console next to Overton. Hovering over the module was a single blue image. At first glance, it reminded Sophie of the old communication satellites that had speckled Earth’s orbit before the solar storms wiped them all out. But, as the image enhanced, she could tell it was something different—something much more sophisticated.

  “Meet Starbuck,” Luke said, smiling proudly. “She’s the most advanced magnet ever designed. I built her to help mitigate the effect of solar storms.”

  Sophie nearly gasped, finally realizing what had made her so uneasy about Luke. She had met him before, in a meeting years ago with NTC. They were the ones who had bought his technology, but Dr. Hoffman had later scrapped the project for confidential reasons. It all made sense. That was why he had access to the encrypted NTC emergency channel.

  “Yes, that’s right, Dr. Winston. I’m Luke Williard, the former CEO of Solar Mitigation Technologies,” he said, studying the look on her face.

  Overton wasn’t the brightest Marine in his squad, but he was smart enough to recognize what was going on immediately. Luke didn’t need them to rescue him—he needed Sophie. He needed NTC. But why?

  Fuck.

  The Marine didn’t like what was unfolding. He slowly removed his cigarette and stuffed it back into his breast pocket. He didn’t want any distractions if he had to take Luke out.

  “I remember you now,” she said, stepping forward to study the holographic image. She had seen a blueprint of a similar design and recalled the device was, surprisingly, no larger than a car tire. The amount of energy it emitted, however, required that it be sealed inside a heavily fortified shell lined with lead. It was similar to some of the giant magnets she’d worked with in the past, but a fraction of their size.

  “I presume you didn’t just ‘stumble’ across my bunker, now did you, Dr. Winston?” Luke said coyly. He turned his attention back to the computer screen. Then he reached for his glasses and balanced them on his nose before proceeding to swipe the screen again. The image over the console faded and vanished. Seconds later a new image flickered to life. It was the outline of his house. And around it appeared to be some sort of oval-shaped screen.

  “What you are looking at is an invisible shield surrounding the property. I’ve used electromagnetic energy to effectively sustain a wave of energy that camouflages anything within a square mile of here.” Luke scanned the faces of Bouma and Overton, who stared back at him blankly.

  “I know it’s hard to understand, but in essence—”

  “You’re using their technology against them,” Sophie said, interrupting Luke midsentence.

  “Precisely, Dr. Winston. In 2056 I was contracted by NTC to study the electromagnetic disturbance that fed the solar storms. It was when we discovered them that we also discovered this technology.”

  Bouma’s face turned bright red. “You fucking knew about the Organics this entire time?”

  Luke looked at him for a split second before scowling. “Of course NTC has known all this time. There are thousands of people that knew this was coming.”

  Overton shook his head at the corporal, effectively ordering him to back off without uttering a word.

  “As I was saying, NTC contracted me to work on building this technology long after I had sold them the rights to my company. But then, two years ago, Dr. Hoffman decided it was no longer a valuable investment for them,” he said with another scowl.

  Sophie froze in place. Ever
ything was beginning to make sense now. The Biosphere mission. The invasion. NTC’s plans had been in motion for years. How had she been so naive? And why had she been left in the dark for so long?

  Frustrated, she shook the questions from her mind and stepped closer to the monitors. “Tell me everything you know about the Organics,” she said, her business voice kicking in.

  Luke folded his hands behind his head and leaned back. “You better take a seat, Dr. Winston. We may be here for a while.”

  CHAPTER 19

  I WANT my blanket,” the boy screamed.

  “We have to get him to calm down!” Timothy shouted.

  “You need to calm down, too,” Holly whispered back, impatiently. She stooped to pick up the boy’s blanket, quickly handing it to him.

  “Contacts in Biome 1,” Alexia said over the com. Her voice repeated the statement over and over.

  Holly thought briefly of Emanuel. She desperately wished he were there—that he was by her side instead of Timothy—but he wasn’t, and she needed to be strong for Owen’s sake.

  “We have to move,” Timothy choked out, frantically scanning the medical ward for a nook, a cabinet, anywhere he could jam his thin body.

  “There’s nowhere to go,” Holly said.

  “There.” He pointed at the other two cryo chambers nestled beside Saafi’s.

  “Are you insane?” Holly whispered.

  “If those things are just after the pond, then by all means sit on the bench in the corner. You’ll probably be fine. But if they aren’t, if they’re looking for us, then waiting in the open is going to get you killed. I, for one, want to live, and those chambers might just save our lives. If Alexia can shade the glass and turn our machines off, then maybe—just maybe—those freaky spider aliens won’t rip us to shreds.”

  Holly looked over at the chamber, mulling over his theory. It took only a second to convince her.

  “Owen, you get in first,” she said, guiding him over to the nearest tube. The glass door hissed and cracked open as she picked up the whimpering child up and placed him inside, climbing in after him.

  Timothy pulled himself into the other one. Both lids slowly whined shut.

  Holly hugged Owen and patted his back as the glass panels clouded over. She watched Timothy slowly fade from view, his eyes staring back at her.

  “It’s going to be okay. We’re safe in here,” she whispered to the boy.

  “I want to go home,” he whimpered again.

  “Shh. You have to be brave. Your mommy and daddy want you to be a brave boy so they can see you again.”

  He looked up at her with his large, blue eyes, struggling to get a hand free so he could wipe away the tears. “You think so?”

  “I know so,” she whispered.

  The flickering of the room’s lights pulled her attention away from him. Through the tinted window of the tubes, she could see the lights twinkle several times, struggling for power before finally shutting off. Darkness carpeted the room, and the beeps from Saafi’s chamber ceased.

  A lump formed in Holly’s throat, but she didn’t dare swallow. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. Or was it Owen’s heart?

  With the power out, Saafi’s life support would be out too. So would the locking mechanism for the door. On top of that, Alexia would have no way to communicate with them. She pulled Owen tighter, her skin rising with goose bumps. There was nothing she could do for Saafi—nothing she could do for anyone. They were going to die. She was convinced of it. She swallowed and watched a faint blue glow wash over the room as the door clicked open.

  Scratch. Scrape. Scratch. Scrape.

  The sound filled the silent space, sending a chill down her back. It was the most awful noise she had ever heard, like a drowning animal trying to claw its way to safety.

  She felt Owen shivering and tightened her arms around him. She took in a deep breath, holding it. The glow increased, illuminating the room with a ghostly blue. She peered through the side panel and saw the creatures with naked eyes for the first time. Her heart skipped inside her chest as the spiders entered the room.

  Scratch, scrape, scratch, scrape.

  With her free hand, she covered Owen’s eyes, but she couldn’t close her own. Something compelled her to watch the creatures. She counted a total of seven, and remembered Alexia saying she had picked up nine contacts. Her thoughts returned briefly to Emanuel. Was he okay? Had he found a place to hide?

  Scratch, scrape, scratch, scrape.

  She watched the creatures explore the room, their thin legs almost gliding across the floor on the tips of their claws. Slowly they made their way through the space. One of them jumped on top of the bench and tore at the white cushion. Two others surrounded Saafi’s chamber and paced back and forth. A fourth scampered toward her chamber.

  Scratch, scrape, scratch, scrape.

  For a second, her gaze locked with the spider’s.

  Could it see them through the tinted glass?

  Her heart skipped another beat and adrenaline raced through her veins. Crack!

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see the spiders clawing at Saafi’s tube. The glass splintered as they bashed it with their limbs. Her own spider was still staring at her, its head tilting to one side.

  She took in a deep breath.

  Please go away. Please go away.

  And then, as if in response to her thoughts, it was gone, joining the others as they broke into Saafi’s tube. She watched the glass crack. What started as a small break turned into a web of fractures. Within seconds, they would be inside.

  She could see Saafi’s emotionless, emaciated face through the clear panels of his chamber. The sight was too much to bear. She focused on his chest instead, still heaving up and down as he breathed. He was totally unaware of what was about to happen to him.

  Tears filled her eyes. She had known Saafi for years. He was a good man. Worst of all, there was absolutely nothing she could do for him. The feeling of helplessness washed over her, mixing with a cloud of grief and anguish.

  One of the spiders pulled the glass from Saafi’s chamber with two of its legs. With another pair of legs, it pulled Saafi out, suspending him in midair. A second spider scuttled up beside the first and shot out a thin, blue web. The material covered Saafi’s feet, wrapping them tightly. Slowly the spiders worked their way up his legs, torso, and chest, twirling him around and around.

  Holly continued to watch, petrified. The only consolation was that he was in a coma and, hopefully, wouldn’t be able to feel any pain. She reminded herself of this over and over again as the web tightened around his neck.

  And then his eyes opened.

  He tried to suck in a deep breath but couldn’t—the thin blue web was too tight. Instead, his eyes darted around the room, trying to focus in the dim light. Slowly they came to rest on the creatures. His mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out; the web quickly covered his mouth, his nose, and finally his eyes.

  Holly’s stomach lurched. She coughed bile into her mouth but forced it down, the tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. The last thing she saw before she fainted was the spiders dragging Saafi’s cocooned body away.

  * * *

  Overton twirled his combat knife before jamming it into a thick piece of sausage on his plate. His shoulder was surprisingly free of pain. The gel was just one of many advances in modern medicine that extended the lives of Marines. Even when they were torn and shredded like the piece of meat in front of him, they could be patched back together and returned to service as effective killing machines.

  He smiled and brought the steaming piece of sausage to his mouth and bit in, savoring the juices as they ran down his hoarse throat. It was the first decent meal he had eaten in days, and he was going to enjoy it, savor it as if it was his last—after all, it very well could be.

  He w
asn’t sure how much time he had left. And after seeing what they were up against, he was willing to bet that his life expectancy had dropped considerably since the invasion.

  “She’s awake,” Bouma whispered in his ear.

  Just my luck, Overton thought, staring down at the two strips of bacon and half-eaten sausage that he was going to have to let go cold. He sheathed his knife and headed for the red couch, joining Sophie and Bouma.

  “My name’s Sophie,” she said, crouching next to the girl.

  The kid cowered away. She had her arms wrapped around her knees, with her head dangling between them. Every time Sophie moved closer, the girl would hide between them a bit more.

  Overton put his hands on Finley’s and Bouma’s shoulders. “Give them some room,” he ordered. The three headed back to the large table, where they grabbed their meals and retreated from sight.

  Sophie hardly noticed them leave. Her mind was racing; it wouldn’t stop. She replayed the events of the past week over and over. First the dead livestock and dead communication line, then the orbs, the drone. Next, there were the Marines saving her team from a sure death. And then Owen had appeared.

  Two children and a handful of Marines. The only known survivors besides Luke Williard; the scientist whom she’d met years before.

  None of it made sense, and yet it all made sense. Everything was connected. Like a spider’s web branching out in a thousand directions. Her dreams were the one piece of it that she just couldn’t grasp—the dreams that she should have listened to long ago.

  “How is she doing?” a voice said from behind her.

  Sophie angled her head. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard Luke approach.

  “She’s been like this all morning. I can’t get her to say a word.”

  “Typical response. After what she’s been through, it’s no surprise,” Luke said.