• • •
Twenty biospheres in four days. Hoffman couldn’t believe the situation report. Each image showed the same type of black ship hovering over a buried biosphere, blue spiders swarming into an opening they’d made. He felt completely defeated. The Easter eggs he’d left for humanity were failing. One by one.
Hoffman had sealed himself in his quarters and was staring through the porthole window. Every time his monitor chirped, he feared the worst. That another biosphere had gone off-line. The thought filled him with overwhelming dread. He’d known all along that the military wouldn’t be able to stop the Organics. But he’d hoped his biospheres would be safe. He’d put so much work into finding the perfect locations and filling the buried bunkers with the most capable men and woman the human race had to offer.
And in the end, the aliens had found them. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left. It was an odd feeling, knowing that no matter what he did, he couldn’t help anyone back on Earth. Sure, the submarine under the command of Captain Rick Noble was monitoring the biospheres, but there was little that man could do for any of them. By now the captain probably knew the truth. That humanity’s days were numbered. The doomsday clock was ticking.
Hoffman wondered exactly what was going through Noble’s head. He was a strong man, the son of a navy commander Hoffman had known personally. He remembered how paranoid the man had been in the years before his death, always talking about the apocalypse.
Had Commander Noble known what Hoffman now knew?
Sighing, he pushed the thoughts away. There wasn’t anything he could do about Earth now besides sit back and watch all his plans fail. He had to look to the future.
Hoffman relaxed in his chair. Punching in a few commands, he loaded the confidential NTC database filled with images of the Mars colony.
Clusters of white-domed buildings peppered the alien landscape. Beyond the facilities there were massive cylinders. The terraformers, he thought with a half smile. They would be fully functioning by now, slowly making the planet hospitable to human life. He filtered through the pictures, stopping on the farm of solar panels and then the silos where robots were already storing and preserving the first batches of crops.
By the time Hoffman’s and the other ships arrived, the colony would be fully prepared for the human race. There would be food, power, and most important, oxygen.
A message from Robert rolled across the top of the screen. Hoffman read it aloud. “Biosphere 21 has gone off-line. Will transfer images shortly.”
Hoffman replied with his own message. “Don’t bother.”
There was no response. Flicking off the screen, Hoffman walked back over to the window. The dread he had felt earlier had vanished. It was replaced with hope. The fight for Earth may have been lost and the biospheres a failure, but the view of space reminded Hoffman that the future of the human race was on Mars. And that’s all that mattered.
CHAPTER 6
A PACK of Spiders came rushing out of the desert to the east. Jeff counted six of them. Their bodies cast an eerie blue glow over the sand as they moved toward the base.
“Jeff . . .” David said. “I’m scared.”
“Concentrate. Aim like dad taught you.”
Jeff followed his own advice and lined the crosshairs of his rifle on the pack of approaching Spiders. They skittered past the guard tower and onto the roadway that curved onto the base.
The monsters were so fast, the high joints in their legs allowing long strides.
“Get ready,” Jeff said. His heart was thumping so hard now that he could hear it. He took a deep breath and waited.
Shrieks filled the night as the Spiders fanned out.
“Crap,” Jeff muttered. He thought of his dad and fired off the first shot.
The weapon hammered back into his shoulder. He let out a cry and then refocused. The round had gone wide, missing the intended Spider that was now rushing toward the hangar.
He fired again.
The bullet chipped the pavement, leaving a dent in it. The creature halted, pawing the air with its front claws. Mandibles opened and more of the high-pitched sounds filled the night.
“Shoot, David! Now! ”
The boy did as he was told. The hunting rifle cracked and put David on his ass. But the bullet hit one of the Spiders. Jeff watched in horror as a blue shield pulsated around the monster.
“Crap. Crap, crap!” he shouted. Then he fired again. Every round bounced off and tore into the surrounding concrete.
Jeff pulled off his mask, suddenly feeling like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know what to do. He’d doomed himself and David. The Spiders couldn’t be killed. They had freaking shields!
Frantic, he reached for the bag of grenades and pulled out another. It was his last hope. Without hesitation, he pushed the button and launched the grenade from the rooftop.
Then, he pulled himself up and waited for the invisible blast. What came next sent a thrill through his body that made the Jacked pill he’d taken earlier seem like a piece of candy.
The closest three Spiders instantly dropped to the ground, shrieking, their legs thrashing madly at the air.
Jeff joined David at his position and together they watched the other three Spiders crash into the side of a building.
“Shoot them! Shoot them now!” Jeff said. He positioned his rifle on the ledge and opened fire. The bullets tore into the lead Spider’s unprotected flesh. Blue mist burst into the air, peppering the concrete with goo.
He moved on to the next Spider and continued firing.
Seconds later, the last creature groaned and died.
Panting, the two boys glanced over the rooftop at the mess below in awe. “We did it,” Jeff said, his words slow but confident.
“Wow,” David said. He rubbed his shoulder. “This thing hurts when you shoot it.”
Jeff laughed.
They continued to look down at the alien corpses with morbid fascination. Jeff felt satisfied, like he’d just passed the most important test of his life.
“Would dad be proud of us?” David asked.
Jeff hugged his little brother and said, “Yes, bud. Dad would be proud.”
• • •
Jeff couldn’t remember how long they’d been at White Sands. The days and nights continued to tick by, and somehow they continued to survive. Had they been out here five days now? Six days?
He shook his head and pulled up his gas mask for another bite of granola bar. It was the last one he had in his bag. There were still MREs left, but judging by the package, they weren’t going to taste that great. But, what the heck?
He had already torn into the side of the package with his knife when he heard voices. David heard them, too. The boy jumped to his feet and grabbed the ladder to the open hatch. They climbed onto the roof of the hangar and sprinted to the west wall.
Could they really be voices? After all this time?
When they reached the ledge Jeff saw something that he wasn’t sure he would ever see again. Human beings. Two live human beings.
Jeff wanted to jump and shout and scream, but instead he ducked down, out of sight. He reached up and pulled David down with him.
“They could be bad people,” Jeff said.
“But . . .” David started to say. He nodded. “Okay.”
Peeking over the side, Jeff watched one of the soldiers walk into the hangar. Raising a finger to his mask, Jeff said, “Shhhh.” The sound came out muffled and deep.
The boys walked back to the ladder and quietly made their way down into the office. Jeff watched the soldier drop to their knees in the center of the room and let out a wail. “No!”
Waving his brother forward, the boys raced down the staircase to the bottom floor with their rifles drawn. They cautiously approached the person in black body armor. Stepping into the light Jeff caught the s
oldier’s eyes through their visor. Tears fell down her face.
Jeff turned to David, unsure of what to say. But deep down he knew they were finally leaving White Sands—that they were finally going somewhere safe.
About the Author
Nicholas Sansbury Smith is the author of several post-apocalyptic books and short stories. He worked for the State of Iowa for nearly ten years before switching careers to focus on his one true passion—writing. When he isn’t daydreaming about the apocalypse he’s likely racing in triathlons around the Midwest. He lives in Des Moines, Iowa with his family and several rescued animals. For more information, visit him at NicholasSansbury.com.
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ALSO BY NICHOLAS SANSBURY SMITH
ORBS SERIES
Orbs
Orbs II: Stranded
Orbs III: Redemption
Solar Storms
White Sands
Red Sands
THE TISAIAN CHRONICLES
The Biomass Revolution
Squad 19
A Royal Knight
THE EXTINCTION CYCLE SERIES
Extinction Horizon
Extinction Edge
Extinction Age
Author Q&A
So, first of all: aliens! Orbs has a classic alien invasion plot, but you’ve managed to make it feel completely fresh. What drew you to this idea and to the world of science fiction?
The idea for Orbs came to me at a very unusual time. I was vacationing in Mexico and stumbled upon a section of our resort that was cordoned off for a wedding. There were these brilliant blue balls set up across the lawn on thin stilts. At first glance, the orbs looked like they were hovering. I took a few pictures and continued to the beach, not thinking much of it.
A few days later I was outlining a story and had finished most of the world building: the biosphere, abandoned city of Colorado Springs, the alien invasion. But, I knew I was missing an important part. Where had all the people and animals gone? I didn’t want to follow the traditional abduction plot or have a bunch of green aliens running around with ray guns.
I thought back to those captivating orbs I’d discovered a few nights before. Could I turn them into something equally as terrifying as they were beautiful?
That’s essentially how Orbswas born.
Looking back over my life, I think I was always meant to write science fiction. As a kid, I never believed my parents when they told me monsters weren’t real, and I’ve never doubted that aliens exist. I grew up obsessed with the Doom universe and, eventually, Halo and Gears of War. I wanted to write a story that made others feel the same way I felt after spending hours in these surreal universes. Like any other storyteller, I wanted my readers to live and breathe the world I’d created. In my opinion, there is no better escape than a good science fiction adventure.
You started out as a very successful self-published author and decided to move to a more traditional house. Can you tell us a little bit about your publishing journey and why you decided to come to Simon451?
I owe much of my success as an indie author to the research I did before self-publishing Orbs. I spent months studying and following the trends in the genre. This meant that I had to dedicate time to marketing and other tasks that took away from my writing. Independent publishing is an oxymoron, really. Indies have to build a team to help them. That team consists of artists, editors, proofreaders, reviewers, beta readers, etc. It’s a lot of work to bring all those people together! I wanted to focus more on my stories and after talking with Brit Hvide, my editor at Simon451, I knew it was the right home for me.
Focusing on my writing also meansbetter writing. My agent, David Fugate, said I’d be going to writing “boot camp.” I’m not sure I would go that far, but Brit has absolutely helped me improve my storytelling skills. I feel lucky to be where I am, and I’m excited to see where this journey will take my stories.
Alexia, an artificially intelligent being, is the only character whose narrative is in the first person. Everyone else’s narrative is in third person. Why did you make that choice, and what were the challenges of each perspective?
Ah, what a great question. A lot of people have asked why I did this. Early on, I knew Alexia’s personality had to “evolve.” As an artificially intelligent being, her character was the most challenging, and I didn’t want her to seem too . . . robotic.
Writing Alexia’s narrative in the first person allowed me to get into her head in a way that’s difficult to achieve with third person. As the story continues in Orbs II and Orbs III, I think the reader will better see why I chose this route.
On the other hand, using third person allowed me to have lots of supporting characters that helped develop my post-apocalyptic world. I think that’s important in an end-of-the-world thriller. Focusing on multiple characters and showing how each of them deals with the stress and terror of the world collapsing around them pulls the reader into the story. They get to experience a variety of emotions and experiences from multiple points of view.
With Alexia’s first-person, the reader gets a unique view into this oversized fishbowl. Orbs II and Orbs III will focus even more on her evolution.
Who are some of your writing heroes and why?
Man, this is always the hardest question because there are so many.
Joe Haldeman is always the first author that comes to mind. I’ve dragged his novel The Forever War around the world with me. The first time I read it, I was camping on an island in remote Canada. That entire week I was absolutely enthralled with the story and lived in that world. Mr. Haldeman has a gift for storytelling that is so very rare.
Recently, I’ve been reading a lot of Hugh Howey. His imagination and ability to stay ahead of trends is impressive and inspirational. I’ve lost a lot of sleep thinking about the world of Wooland Sand. But he isn’t just a writing hero because of his stories. He’s a friend to authors and a powerful voice in the changing publishing environment. He’s kind of the author with the red cape. If publishing has a superhero, Mr. Howey is that hero.
Lastly, I have to mention Rick Yancey. The Fifth Wave blew my mind in a way that brought me back to the stories that defined my childhood. His writing contains a wit and an intelligence that pulled me into that story more than any other I’ve read in the past couple years.
You work full time as a writer. What is your writing routine like?
My writing routine has become a great source of humor among my friends. Why? Because as much as I thought I could write from home, that simply hasn’t happened. I spend almost all of my time at the library or in coffee shops around my area. The baristas at Caribou Coffee and Smokey Row know I drink double espressos and have a weakness for milk chocolate.
My routine starts in the morning. Just like a pre-workout stretch, I like to begin the day with reading. It gets the creative juices flowing. Then, I jump right into writing or editing. I take a break in the afternoon to train for triathlons, and then I start where I left off and work until dinner. If I have a deadline or feel overly creative, I work at night. There’s something romantic about writing when it’s dark.
The beauty of writing is that you can work whenever you want. The downside is that you can work whenever you want. I’ve always been a motivated person, and fortunately my transition to full-time writing has been great. Triathlon training helped me build a stronger work ethic, and I’m used to working extremely long days.
The odd part of writing is that I don’t feel like I’m working. I’ve been writing full-time for about six months and it almost feels like a really long vacation. If everyone loved their job as much as I do, then I’m convinced we would live in a world of peace.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Nicholas Sansbury Smith
Originally published in 2013 by Nicholas Smith
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Simon & Schuster Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
First Simon451 ebook edition July 2014
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The Orbs Omnibus Page 88
