The Orbs Omnibus

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  Jeff thought about trying to help her, but Kiel grabbed his arm. “Look at that!” he yelled over the noise.

  At the edge of the beach the Spider patrol was flopping around on the dirt. Their legs clawed at the air, like an invisible enemy was attacking them.

  “Now’s our chance. Run!” Kiel screamed. He took off into the darkness, away from the poles and back into the empty lakebed.

  Jeff watched him go. His head was pounding, his vision getting cloudy. Everywhere people were screaming and running, dispersing in all directions. Those who weren’t fast enough fell to the ground and were trampled by the others.

  A woman crashed into him, sending Jeff face-first into the dirt. Shoes raced past his head, kicking up clouds of dust. He closed his eyes and protected his head with his hands, waiting for the crush of desperate feet.

  Instead, he felt a pair of strong hands grab him under the arms and yank him up.

  “I told you to stick with me, kid! What do you have, a death wish?” Kiel yelled. “Now get moving!”

  Jeff took off running. In the distance, he could see a pair of houses on the opposite side of the lakebed and made his way toward them. Kiel passed him a few seconds later.

  “Good idea, we need to get out of the open,” the marine said.

  “Wait up, Kiel!” someone screamed from behind him.

  Jeff stopped, nearly stumbling over his own feet. Kiel turned to look over, his shoulder and yelled, “Thompson, where the fuck have you been?”

  Behind them, a burly man with a large bald head stood hunched over, with his hands on his knees. He wore the same green fatigues as Kiel.

  Gasping for breath, the man waved a hand in the air. “I’m . . . sorry,” he panted. “I got . . . separated.”

  Jeff nudged Kiel’s arm. “We need to go,” he said. Everywhere he looked, the aliens’ bodies lay twisted and mangled. Were they dead? Even if they were, Jeff knew there would be more. There were always more.

  “Kid’s right. We need to get out of here. Can you run?” Kiel asked.

  Thompson took his hands off his knees, sucked in another deep breath, and nodded.

  Kiel was running before the other marine had stood up straight. Jeff couldn’t believe how fast the guy was.

  Jeff ran too, his legs kicking up a cloud of dust. It only took a few minutes for them to reach the shoreline on the opposite side of the lakebed. The trio climbed onto a small embankment, the dry weeds crunching beneath their boots. An outcrop of boulders separated them from the houses. Jeff was too short to see much beyond them, but he could see several solar panels on the rooftops protruding over the boulders. They were close to safety.

  “Stay here,” Kiel said. He took off in a sprint toward the houses.

  Jeff watched him vanish into the darkness, wishing he had his rifle. He felt naked without it. Dragging his forearm across his forehead, he wiped a trail of sweat off his face. Then, he took off running, leaving Thompson resting against the boulders.

  “Kid. Wait up!” the man protested.

  Jeff ignored him and ran as fast as he could. It only took him a few seconds to find Kiel. He was standing in the shadows of the first house. The modern three-story building was covered in windows and overlooked the lakebed. Jeff watched Kiel move on.

  The second house was an older brick structure, surrounded by a curtain of dense pine trees. Their green needles had long since browned and fallen to the cracked earth below.

  Kiel turned when he heard Jeff’s footfalls crunching over the ground.

  “I told you to stay put,” Kiel snarled.

  “I’m not freaking waiting back there,” Jeff replied with a frown. “Besides, I can keep up.”

  The marine regarded him with a cocked brow, his bulbous nose twitching. Jeff almost laughed, but thought better of it. After all, this man had helped him escape.

  “Let’s move,” Kiel said with a snort.

  Winded, Jeff pushed on, following Kiel to the west side of the house. Camouflaged by the darkness, Kiel peeked around the corner before balling his hand into a fist. Jeff couldn’t see the marine’s face, but the shaking of his hand was enough for the boy to know he had seen something.

  Jeff hung back. Behind him, he heard the heavy breathing of Thompson, who had caught up with them and braced himself against the brick wall.

  “Why . . . are . . . we stopped?” he asked between breaths.

  Before Kiel could reply, Jeff heard the sound that frightened him the most.

  Scratch, scrape, scratch, scrape.

  It was distant at first, but grew louder with every heartbeat.

  * * *

  “Move!” Overton yelled into his com. He could hear the scraping of the Spiders behind him but didn’t risk the second it would take to glance over his shoulder. Emanuel’s weapon had killed every Organic within a one-mile radius, but others had quickly shown up to avenge their friends.

  Overton scanned the street desperately for an escape route. He wasn’t about to leave his men in the field, but he also wasn’t any good to them dead. His plan was to lose the aliens and circle around to find Thompson, Kiel, and Jeff.

  There.

  At the end of the street a school bus had fishtailed, blocking the route like a blood clot in an artery. That was where they would make their stand. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a large pack of Spiders had joined the chase. He’d faced worse odds before by himself; a dozen of the bastards weren’t going to stop him from rescuing his men.

  “Get inside the bus. I’ll hold them off,” Overton shouted, dropping to his left knee. With a single motion he swung his rifle to his shoulder, aimed through the sight, and fired off a volley of shots toward the approaching monsters.

  As the bullets ricocheted off the Spiders’ defenses, his stomach sank. Their shields were still active. Overton knew he wasn’t as smart as Sophie or Emanuel. This, he accepted. But he had something they didn’t: killer instinct. He dropped his rifle, reached for one of the electromagnetic grenades, and pushed the small red button on the side.

  Click.

  He tossed the device into the air, watching it through his HUD as it sailed toward the aliens. They scampered forward, unaware that they were about to receive a massive shock. Overton was running before the grenade hit the ground. A brief flash of light filled his HUD as he burst through the open bus door. Blinking, he stuffed his armored body into one of the seats and jammed his rifle out the window just as one of the Spiders crashed into the side of the bus.

  The impact jolted Overton backward into the aisle. He fumbled for his rifle as he landed on his back with a thud.

  “Shoot them! Shoot them now!”

  With their HUDs down and weapons low on ammo, Emanuel and Bouma fired off calculated shots, aiming strictly for the creatures’ heads. Within seconds the outside of the bus was covered in watery gore.

  By the time Overton had regained his composure, the aliens were dead. And he hadn’t even fired a single shot. He turned from the window and surveyed his men. He couldn’t see their faces through the tinted visors, but he knew what lay behind the glass.

  Fear.

  If it weren’t for the adrenaline racing through his veins, he would be feeling the same thing. But he didn’t have time for that.

  “We need to find the survivors before another patrol finds us. Take a minute to let your HUDs reboot. Grab some nutrition, and then we’re out of here,” Overton said.

  Bouma reached for a new magazine and jammed it home into his rifle. “Last one.”

  “How long until your device is recharged?” Overton asked.

  Emanuel plopped the metal device onto the seat and examined its side. Glancing up, he said, “Something’s wrong. Only four of the nine bars are lit. It’s not recharging as fast as I thought it would.”

  Overton felt his stomach sink. He knew how fucked they were if th
e weapon didn’t come back online. He tilted his helmet and scanned the street. A soft, cool blue beam of light pulsated at the end of the street as the aliens approached. He could hear their claws now—the gut-wrenching scratch, scrape of their impending doom. Overton clenched his teeth. He knew he was running out of time to save the others.

  CHAPTER 13

  SOPHIE studied the branches of a maturing apple tree in Biome 1. Green leaves rustled slightly in the breeze of a hidden vent unit far above her. In less than a month, the tree had doubled in size, and would soon be producing fruit.

  It was nothing short of a miracle, but for Sophie the sight was painful. The vibrant green of the leaves and crisp brown bark reminded her of what had been lost outside the safety of the Biosphere. It reminded her she would never again see lush forests or fields of crops. More than anything, it reminded her of the reason she was there in the Biosphere in the first place. The Earth had been dying for decades; the Organics were just finishing what her species had begun.

  Dr. Hoffman—the real Dr. Hoffman, not the monster from her dreams—had said that the Biospheres were humanity’s final hope. He had planted them across the world so that after the Organics had left, the human race could sprout and flourish again.

  Dr. Hoffman had made a fatal miscalculation. The Biospheres would never survive. The Organics would drain the planet of all water, leaving it a desolate and uninhabitable wasteland. Even inside the Biospheres, humanity would shrivel and die. The only way to ensure the human race’s survival was to fight back.

  Sophie stuffed her hands in her pockets and continued across the platform, sucking in the sweet scent of oranges and basking in the cool, crisp air. A faint rustling noise emanated from the crops, and she turned. The kids had taken to playing hide-and-seek between the cornstalks.

  “Hello?” she shouted. “Is someone there?”

  A hoarse whisper responded. “Doctor Winston.”

  The voice was familiar, but oddly distant.

  “Who’s there?” Sophie entreated.

  This time there was no response.

  She shook her head. Was she starting to lose it? Or were the phantom noises and voices real?

  “I said who’s there!” She jumped off the platform with a sudden burst of courage. Standing on her toes, she desperately searched over the tips of the crops, but saw nothing.

  “Over here, Doctor Winston,” said the deep voice. This time it was behind her. She turned. A figure stood outside the sealed front entrance leading to the hallways beyond Biome 1. It was Dr. Hoffman.

  “You aren’t real,” Sophie shouted, closing her eyes. “You aren’t . . .”

  Another voice cut her off. “Sophie?”

  Her heart sank as she opened her eyes and turned to see Holly standing at the opposite end of the Biome.

  “Sweetie, who are you talking to?”

  Sophie glanced over her shoulder one more time to ensure Dr. Hoffman was gone, and then focused her gaze on the apple tree just as a single brown leaf fluttered to the ground.

  * * *

  The mess hall was deathly silent. Holly sat sipping tea, savoring the flavor. With no way of telling how much longer their NTC supplies would last, she didn’t want to waste a single mouthful.

  “How are the kids?” asked Sophie. The voice startled Holly and caused her to knock over her mug. She fumbled for it, but it was too late. A small river of brown liquid raced across the table. Before she could stop it, the tea began to drip onto the floor.

  Sophie strolled up to Holly’s side, and the two looked down at the mess. There was a time when neither of them would have thought much of it. But now the mere sight of wasted water was enough to make them both cringe.

  “I’m to the point where I’m honestly considering drinking that,” Holly said.

  “No, you aren’t,” Sophie responded firmly. “We have food and water to last months. Maybe even longer.”

  Holly grimaced. “But we don’t have much tea.”

  “You can live without caffeine, Holly.”

  The psychologist frowned and made her way to the kitchen to the stainless-steel cabinet. Inside, there was a single jar of tea packets, individually sealed. She rummaged through the container, counting eleven in all.

  Slamming the door shut, she grabbed a plastic cup and walked back into the mess hall, where Sophie was waiting.

  “Where’s the towel?” asked Sophie.

  Holly ignored her and crouched down over the puddle, slowly scooping the liquid into the cup.

  “Holly, what are you doing?”

  She continued scooping the tea into the cup with her index finger. She could feel her cheeks getting hotter by the moment.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “We need to save everything we can,” Holly said. “I know it’s silly, but tea is the one thing that I have left connecting me to the old world. It’s the one thing that makes me feel . . .” She paused to search for the right words. “It makes me feel like I can still have part of my old life.”

  Sophie didn’t reply, but Holly felt her stare. When she finally finished, she rose to her feet and placed the cup in front of Sophie.

  “These are the things we need to make sure we savor,” Holly said. “Without the small pleasures from the old world, we’ll slowly devolve into . . .”

  “Into what?”

  Holly shook her head. “Sophie, why did you hire me?”

  “Because I trust you.”

  “If you really trust me, then you’ll listen to what I have to say.”

  “Okay,” Sophie said crossing her arms.

  “We are in week six of this mission, or whatever you want to call it. I’ve been monitoring everyone’s behavior. Yours especially.”

  “Go on,” Sophie said cautiously.

  “You are slowly becoming a different person. This is common in apocalyptic scenarios. Long-term violence can have strange effects on leaders with strong moral convictions. Good people, good leaders.” She paused. “Good leaders like you.”

  “And you think I’m becoming a bad person?”

  “Not at all,” Holly replied. “That isn’t what I’m saying. You have so much to worry about. Our food supply. Our safety. Emanuel, Jeff, David. Everyone. You’re trying to figure out the Organics, and on top of all that, you’re still suffering from nightmares. This is too much for anyone to bear. Eventually, you will crack.”

  Sophie stiffened. “What are you suggesting, Doctor Brown?”

  Holly sighed. “You’re missing the point. I’m simply trying to say you need to be cognizant of the actions of people around you. Have you been watching Sergeant Overton?”

  Sophie seemed to relax at this. “A little bit.”

  “Have you even noticed Bouma and I . . .”

  “Yes. I’ve noticed,” Sophie said with a smile. “Okay, I get what you’re saying. I need to pay closer attention to the team. But I don’t think we’re quite desperate yet. We aren’t animals; we don’t drink tea off the table.”

  Holly nodded sheepishly. “It’s late, Sophie. We should get to bed. I’m going to check on the kids one more time.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Sophie asked.

  “No, I’ll be fine. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  Holly felt Sophie’s gaze on her back as she walked out of the room. As soon as she left the room Holly could have sworn she heard something that sounded a lot like a plastic cup being tossed into the trash.

  * * *

  ENTRY 2019

  DESIGNEE: AI ALEXIA

  Seventeen sensors have gone off in the past twenty-four hours; the Biosphere has several critical issues. Even with the front entrance sealed, contaminants are finding their way inside. I’ve isolated the problem to the air duct the Spiders hibernated in weeks ago, and I’ve already deployed the last autob
ot to deal with the problem.

  Besides the pollutants, I’ve been busy monitoring what remains of the team. As the hours pass, the program I use to calculate the possibility of their survival slowly ticks away. With Sergeant Overton, Corporal Bouma, and Dr. Rodriguez out in the field, the Biosphere is left virtually unprotected. Even with the main RVM device functioning at 95 percent, the Organics have still found ways to penetrate the facility.

  I’m worried.

  No, that isn’t the correct word. I’m afraid that if the Biosphere is compromised, the others will die. The children. Dr. Winston. Dr. Brown. Everyone. As I have changed, I have grown attached to them.

  From the millions of programs I’ve downloaded on human emotion, I am beginning to understand a simple term.

  Helpless.

  Without the marines, Dr. Winston and Dr. Brown are completely dependent on the RVM protecting the facility.

  Survival seems impossible. And the team is beginning to see that. In between cleaning toxins and rerouting power, I have observed all the team members’ actions. They are losing hope. They are beginning to understand the reality of the situation.

  No one is coming to help them.

  CHAPTER 14

  ALEX ran. He ran faster than he would have thought possible, his muscles stretching, groaning. Protesting with every motion.

  He was back on the beach, surrounded by Spiders. And they were gaining on him.

  Alex could feel the pulsing in his head, could feel the blood pumping through his veins. He struggled to breathe. Puffs of hot air escaped from his chapped lips. His head bobbed up and down as he ran. Without his helmet, he had a much wider view of his surroundings. And with that view came the terrifying understanding that he was being hunted.

  There were so many of them. Hundreds, if not thousands, chasing him from every direction. Their skin glowed in the darkness, turning the beach into one massive night-light. Fifteen more heartbeats and he was at the water’s edge.

  A group of Spiders advanced, theirs claws tearing through the sand. They were close. So close he could hear their legs whooshing through the air.