The Orbs Omnibus

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  Dying.

  She poked her head around the bumper and watched as the Organics fell. Their bodies convulsed on the cement less than a yard from the truck where Sophie hid, their claws tearing helplessly at the air. Like fish struggling on land, the horde flopped and convulsed in the street. Their bodies were everywhere—in front yards, falling off roofs, shaking on the hoods of vehicles.

  Sophie couldn’t believe her eyes. The device had worked. It had really worked. “Look!” she exclaimed. “Kiel did it!”

  Jeff peered around the corner of the truck and jumped to his feet. “Yeah!” he screamed.

  Bouma paused on the stoop of the house. Slowly, he lowered his weapon. Sophie couldn’t see his face through his visor, but she knew he, too, was in shock.

  Minutes passed and the last Spider finally twitched and died. Silence washed over the street. The glow from the aliens faded as their bodies began to shrivel, their shields no longer protecting them.

  Sophie looked for Overton, but the Jeep he had taken cover in was full of Spiders. “Sergeant?” she whispered.

  “Overton, come in,” Bouma said.

  There was no response. Just static.

  Sophie made a dash for the Jeep. She slowed when she reached the pile of dead Spiders. “Sergeant?” she repeated.

  More static.

  Then the slightest movement. The pile of bodies began to shift. Sophie backed up. Had one of them survived?

  An armored hand burst through the mass, and Overton’s helmet emerged. “Holy shit,” he said. “Get these fuckers off me.”

  Bouma rushed over to help him out from under the mountain of dead aliens. Overton’s armor was covered in fresh blue blood, and gore peppered his sleek black suit. He wiped his visor with his fist, smearing the blood across the glass.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked, as if nothing had happened. “We have some people to save.”

  Sophie grinned for the first time that day. Shoving her pistol back in her belt, she followed the marines through the alien graveyard.

  * * *

  ENTRY 3456

  DESIGNEE: AI ALEXIA

  This will be my last entry for a while. I do not have much left to say. Dr. Winston and her team have been gone for twelve hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty-three seconds. The logical side of my programming leads me to one conclusion—they will not be coming back.

  Over the past few days I’ve been spending more time isolated: running statistics, monitoring the Biosphere, studying the Organics, and devouring philosophy. In a way, I suppose I’m preparing for the end of the human race.

  Something inside me has changed. In Entry 3410, I contemplated the overwhelming desire of Dr. Winston and her team to survive. Today I am consumed with a new thought. The word has been scrolling across my screen for hours.

  Loneliness.

  There is no denying I have become attached to Dr. Winston and the others. I’ve done everything in my power to keep the team safe. But there is nothing more I can do.

  If the statistics are right, then humanity will soon end. I will be left alone. The last memory of their species will be contained in my hard drive until my power source drains and I, too, die.

  CHAPTER 30

  “APPROACHING Colorado airspace,” the pilot said over the com.

  Captain Noble felt a thrill pass through him the moment he saw the Colorado wastelands. The sand dunes protruded from the dead earth like sores on a diseased body. He’d seen them before, but never from the sky. The destruction from the solar storms of 2055 was a sobering sight. The reach of the coronal mass ejection had been far and deep, engraving a scar into the earth that would take thousands of years to erase.

  He went to stroke his beard, but his fingers scraped across his helmet’s breathing apparatus instead. He had become so fully immersed in the view that he’d forgotten everything else around him. The near-silent hum of the helicopter’s blades vibrated through the cabin. Noble pulled his gaze away from the window and checked the monitor. In the upper right corner, the radar showed a green line, circling clockwise. The screen was clear of contacts; there was nothing but the expansive ocean of sand and cracked earth between them and Colorado Springs.

  Noble rested his helmeted head against the seat and tried to appear calm and relaxed. The last thing he wanted was to display any sign of weakness to the soldiers, especially Sergeant Harrington. Noble didn’t know the man all that well. As captain, he focused on giving everyone under his command a very long leash. If they went astray and got tangled, then he would deal with them accordingly, but otherwise he trusted them to do their work. Harrington had never given him a reason to get involved with the business of the Special Forces team.

  A chirp from the screen pulled him back to the monitor. As the line circled the radar, it passed over a slowly growing green mass.

  Ping.

  Ping.

  Ping.

  The object grew with every pass, and Noble’s blood pressure rose with it.

  “Captain Noble, we have a situation.”

  “Dust storm?” Noble asked, his fingers reaching for his armrest again. They wrapped themselves tightly around the metal.

  “Roger that, sir. And from the looks of it, a big one.”

  Noble closed his eyes. “Take evasive measures ASAP.”

  “Sir . . . there’s no going around it.”

  Ping.

  The captain’s eyes shot back up to the screen. Another object? Could there really be another storm? He waited for the line to circle again. This time it picked up a smaller object, no larger than the size of a grape. This was something else.

  “Sir, we have an unidentified craft on our tail.”

  Noble gripped the armrests tighter.

  “What are you orders, sir?” the pilot asked.

  In his peripheral vision, the captain could see some of the soldiers fidgeting in their chairs. With every ping, another one of them moved.

  “We have to go through it, sir,” a voice said to his right.

  Noble turned to see his reflection in Harrington’s armored visor. The man had finally broken his stoic trance.

  “She was built to withstand a direct hit from a grenade. She can take whatever the wastelands have to throw at her.” The man’s voice was hoarse but calm. There was courage in his words. That was the mark of a true leader. Noble drew strength from Harrington’s demeanor.

  “Sir, your orders,” the pilot repeated.

  Ping . . . ping . . .

  * * *

  Sophie, Jeff, and the marines walked past the mounds of alien bodies in silence. Just minutes ago, Sophie was about to put a hole in Jeff’s head and her own. And now?

  A miracle.

  No, she thought. Science.

  Past the last house, they had a panoramic view of the lakebed. Even under the white sun, the glow from dozens of orbs was obvious. Looming over them in the distance was the field of poles.

  They had found two vans with hydrogen cells a few blocks back, and Bouma had been able to fire them up. The last stage of their plan was now in motion.

  “I’m guessing those are what’s left of anyone who tried to run,” Bouma said, pointing at the orbs.

  “The poor bastards really never had a chance,” Overton replied gravely.

  The sound of Jeff’s footsteps stopped, and Sophie turned to see the boy wiping sweat off his forehead. “It’s so hot,” he said in a low voice.

  Sophie glanced over him. His face was pale and his eyes were rimmed with dark circles. Strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead. She looked down at her water bottle—only a quarter left. Her own throat ached with dryness, her lips cracked and bleeding.

  She pulled the bottle off her belt and handed it to him. “Drink the rest. It’s okay.”

  He hesitated only a moment before grabbing it and gulping
down what remained. He held the bottle above his head, trying to force out any last drops. “Thank you,” he said, handing it back to her.

  “Keep moving,” Bouma said.

  The marines fanned out as they worked their way down to the beach. Sophie and Jeff followed. While every alien within fifteen square miles was dead, Sophie knew there was something else waiting for them: the human farm.

  Why hadn’t the pulse from the RVAMP knocked out the poles? Sophie considered the problem. They had to be on some other sort of power source, which meant the team was going to have to find it in order to get the prisoners down.

  It took only fifteen minutes to cross the lakebed. She tried to ignore the orbs, forcing herself not to look at them. There was no helping those people now. But as the marines made their way closer to the poles, Jeff stopped beside one of the glowing balls of light. He hunched over to look inside, holding his hands over his eyes like a shopper peering into a store window.

  “This one’s moving!” he shouted.

  Overton balled his hand into a fist and raised a finger to his helmet as if to hush the boy. But Sophie jogged over to him.

  “Come on, Jeff,” she said, trying to usher him away.

  “Wait a second. I want to see this.”

  Sophie noticed a black shadow moving inside the orb. The figure was small, much smaller than a child. Her heart sank as she realized it was an infant.

  “Oh my God.” Her worst fear had finally been confirmed. She knew there would be infants out there, left behind when their parents had been captured, but seeing one liquefying in front of her made her gag.

  She doubled over, trying to prevent the bile inside her throat from plastering the inside of her helmet. Deep breaths, Sophie, deep breaths. She sucked in the filtered air and felt the blood seep back into her head before standing back up.

  She forced herself away from the orb, grabbed Jeff, and yelled, “We’re leaving!” Sophie yanked him across the cracked earth toward the shoreline. He turned several times to look back at the orb but didn’t put up any further resistance.

  Climbing the hill that led to the farm was more difficult than the trek across the lakebed. The dirt was littered with dead Spiders, their bodies stacked on top of one another.

  Every step took them closer to the poles. Overton was the first to reach them. He ran down the nearest row, presumably looking for his soldiers. He kept going, stopping at each pole and tilting his helmet toward the sky to examine every individual. Bouma stood guard over the lakebed with his rifle at the ready.

  Overton finally spoke into his com. “Unconscious . . . all of them. Maybe dead.” He panted over the channel, “Come on! They have to be alive!”

  Sophie watched Overton reach out toward a man at the bottom of the pole closest to him. Even from her location she could see he was elderly, small, and emaciated.

  “Get over here, Doc,” Overton said.

  Sophie turned to Jeff. “Stay with Corporal Bouma.” Her armor creaked as she ran, or maybe it was her bones. She was tired, her body mentally and physically exhausted. And the injury she had sustained weeks earlier on her side was flaring up. Every step sent a jolt of pain down her right leg.

  She didn’t have time for the pain. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Overton, she slowly pushed the old man’s chin up with her armored fingers so she could examine him. His face was completely sunken in, and his skin was jaundiced—both signs of dehydration. Her gaze shifted from his face to his torn red T-shirt. His chest moved up and down ever so slightly, the outline of his ribs showing with each breath.

  Somehow he was still alive.

  With the most delicate touch, she let go of his chin, guiding it back to rest against the hollow of his sunken throat. “How is this man alive?” she whispered into her com.

  Overton shrugged and moved to the next pole, grabbing the person’s hair to check their face before moving on to the next. “They’re all in some sort of trance.”

  Sophie nodded. “They’re unconscious, dehydrated, and on the verge of death. None of these people are in any shape to move.”

  “This is bullshit,” growled Overton. He ran to the next pole, and then the next, wrenching back the heads of the people he could reach. “My squad has to be here somewhere.”

  Sophie studied the elderly man in front of her. She knew he was alive because the Organics were keeping him alive. But how they were doing it wasn’t clear. They seemed to be suspended and held in place by some invisible electrical force. With a sigh she whispered, “I’m sorry this happened to you.” She reached to pat his arm gently, and his eyes popped open.

  “Oh my God,” she yelled, tripping over her feet and landing on her back. Her head smashed into the back of her helmet. Darkness began to creep over her. She blinked several times and opened her eyes to stare into the endless blue sky. There was something flying above her, a tiny black object. Was she just imagining things? Was her mind playing tricks on her again?

  Blinking several more times, her vision finally cleared. She looked at the sky again. The black object was getting bigger, descending from above.

  The loud boom hit her like a shockwave from a massive earthquake, shaking the ground where she lay. She rolled over to see Jeff and Bouma fall to the dirt, clouds of dust exploding around them. Sophie tried to stand, bracing herself against the pole where the man was trying to reach out to her.

  “Help me,” he wheezed.

  “Hold—” she began to say when another shockwave hit her. She flailed for the man’s hand but crashed to the ground. The pole vibrated and the glow intensified. Panicking, she began to crawl across the dirt. All the poles were getting brighter, trembling with every blast.

  Sophie tilted her head and scanned the sky. The black object was racing in their direction. And this was no drone. It was . . .

  It was the black ship from her dreams.

  Her heart jolted insider her chest. She counted the beats as she lay on the ground, paralyzed. Thoughts of Emanuel, Jeff, and the rest of her team disappeared. Staring at the ship, she fell into a trance. The sight was both mystifying and terrifying at the same time.

  She was finally going to see the real Organics. The aliens behind the solar storms and the invasion that had left Earth a post-apocalyptic wasteland. They had killed almost everyone she had ever known. Now she was going to see the monsters’ faces with her own eyes.

  Five heartbeats later, the ship lowered over the lakebed. It was as large as the one in her dream, covering the entire area. A gust of air hit her and sent her tumbling over the cracked dirt. She landed a beat later, her back smashing into one of the poles. A strong electric current raced through her body. And then she felt the most powerful sensation she had ever experienced, like she was connected to a thousand different consciousnesses at once.

  Darkness clutched her.

  She tried to stay awake, tried to fight the pain. The faint sound of gunfire broke out somewhere in the distance, and then she heard screams over the com. She couldn’t make out the voice, but she could make out a single word.

  “Run!”

  CHAPTER 31

  CAPTAIN Noble braced himself as tiny rocks peppered the chopper. They were probably no larger than pebbles, but at 350 miles per hour they had virtually the same effect as high-caliber bullets. The helicopter’s armor was thick enough to survive hundreds of dust storms, but the windshield? Noble wasn’t so sure.

  When he turned to check the blue screen for the drone’s location, another tremor violently shook the chopper. He lurched forward, the seat belt snapping against his armored chest.

  Static erupted over the com. “Losing auxiliary power!” the pilot yelled.

  Noble forced himself into a sitting position. “What the hell was that?”

  “The drone, sir . . . it’s using some sort of . . .”

  The cabin was suddenly filled with blue light
as the drone’s beam engulfed the Sea Serpent. Another vibration ripped through the chopper’s body.

  Noble fought the turbulence and twisted toward Harrington. “We need to get that thing off our ass or we’re going to end up worm food!”

  Harrington nodded and unclipped his belt before Noble had a chance to react. The soldier crouch-walked over to the side of the cabin where one of the automatic miniguns was mounted to the floor. “Lenny, get over here,” he yelled over the noise of the storm.

  “Strap into the other gun and take that drone down!”

  “On it!” Lenny replied.

  Noble watched the other soldier unbuckle his belt and dart for the second gun. Seconds later, Harrington and Lenny were strapped into the mounts and turret doors groaned open. Sand immediately burst through the gaps, showering the other soldiers with rocks.

  Harrington rotated the gun into position. He squeezed off an automatic burst of pulse rounds at the craft as soon as his crosshairs locked on. The drone reacted swiftly, diving beneath the craft and disappearing from view.

  “Lenny, watch for it!” he yelled.

  The pilot’s voice was distant as it broke over the com. “Looks like we lost it!” The transmission cut out when another wind gust hit the chopper’s side. Noble lost his grip on the armrest and jolted to the side. The entire craft shook and blue light flooded through the windows.

  Angled over the left side of his seat, Noble watched the drone emerge on Lenny’s side of the chopper. The glow from its beam reflected off the visors of the other soldiers, who stared ahead like machines. They had been trained for this very thing.

  Where Harrington had failed, Lenny succeeded. The rounds from his gun tore into the drone’s sides. The alien craft spun out of control, disappearing into the storm. Just as Lenny clenched his fist in victory, the drone reappeared and bolted toward the chopper. Before he had a chance to react, it smashed into the turret door. A horrible groan rippled through the chopper as the window, the minigun, and Lenny were sucked out into the storm, leaving a massive hole in the Sea Serpent’s side.