Orbs II: Stranded (11 page)

The noise from the platform must have disturbed it. A flutter from inside the sphere startled Sophie, and she scrambled on her hands and knees away from the ledge. The orb began to ripple, cracking down the center. Blue goo bled from the opening and dripped into the darkness below.

Sophie waited.

The crack widened, and the orb split open. The alien that emerged was so different from anything she had seen it was hard for her mind to grasp. She blinked to assure herself it was real. The creature had no face. No eyes, no mouth. Just a stem sticking out where a nose should be. Orange petals surrounded the head, which snaked down and connected to a red bioluminescent torso.

It was . . .
beautiful.

For what seemed like an hour, she sat there studying it, watching the petals curl back, straighten, and then curl again, as if it were breathing.

Turning to examine the next orb, she saw a very different creature inside. This one reminded her of a miniature Christmas tree, with bulblike lights hanging off purple branches. The adjacent orb contained an alien blob of red flesh with spikes lining its egg-shaped body.

It was then Sophie realized she was inside a cargo ship. An alien Noah’s Ark, more than likely filled with species the Organics had collected as they had gone from world to world, collecting water and moving on.

Of course
, she thought. What arrogance it had been to assume that
Earth was the first world they had visited and drained dry.

An alarm screamed, the sound echoing off the walls. Sophie gripped her ears and bent down to put her head between her knees. By the time it finally dissipated, her ears were pulsing with pain.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the first orb. The beautiful orange petals had discolored to a crusty brown. The stem had shriveled, and the torso was shrinking.

Another explosion came from the orb right in front of her. She looked up to see its skin peeling away, revealing the dying alien within. It was then she saw the tube at the bottom of the sphere, hooked up to the creature’s torso. The tube gulped the remaining liquid from the alien and then retracted into the ship’s wall.

Sophie reached out to help, but quickly stumbled and fell. She watched as the flower-shaped alien shriveled like a plant under a scorching sun.

Before Sophie had time to move, the alien disappeared out of the bottom of the orb. She scrambled to the end of the platform and watched an oval-shaped hole open in the bottom of the ship. The alien’s dried body fluttered down until it vanished from sight.

She gasped, her hand cupping her face. If this was an ark, then why had the ship sucked the alien dry?

It was all too much to comprehend, and Sophie pushed herself to her feet. The platform abruptly shook in protest, throwing her off balance.

Sophie let out a cry as she fell over the side. She flailed her arms, desperately searching for something to hold on to.

Below, she could see the tiny opening approaching. Bracing herself, she closed her eyes and waited for impact. In seconds her ruined body would lie mangled next to David’s remains, and the remains of the flower alien.

CHAPTER 16

T
HE
rap of footfalls beating across the pavement was louder than Overton would have liked. He turned his head to see the ragtag squad of men following him.

Only half of them had night vision, and with nothing but moonlight to guide the others, they stumbled along like they were blind. It was a sorry sight, and Overton cringed every time one of them banged into a car or tripped on a curb.

As they navigated around the twists and turns of empty houses Overton realized there was no way in hell they were going to make it another two blocks to the Humvee without being spotted.

“Emanuel, how’s the charge on the, um, magnet thing?”

“The RVAMP?” Emanuel replied over the com. Overton watched him look down at the power meter. “Halfway there.”

“Good. The Humvee should be close, but I don’t want to get caught in the open with our pants down.”

Jeff snickered.

Overhead a drone raced across the sky, leaving a white streak amongst the thousands of stars. Overton hit the ground, ducking for cover. Thompson dove behind a car, crashing into the bumper. The crunching sound of his thick skull breaking the plastic made Overton flinch—not because he was concerned for the man’s well-being, but because the sound could attract enemy attention. He knew Thompson had one of the thickest skulls of any marine in the corp.

The empty vehicles scattered across the street provided plenty of
cover, and each team member found a place to hide. Overton placed his back against a car door.

He listened for any sign of the aliens. Somewhere in the distance a downed power line whined in the breeze. To his right a glass door tapped against its frame. The owner hadn’t bothered to close it, or hadn’t had time.

The sounds sent a chill down Overton’s spine. A quick sweep of the area revealed the same scene he’d seen in the rest of the city. The once upscale neighborhood had been taken over by dust. Remnants of orbs littered the concrete. They were in the middle of some sort of dead zone—a staging area where the Spiders had taken the initial survivors on invasion day and turned them into orbs.

Truthfully, it was hard for Overton to grasp just how many Spiders, Worms, Sentinels, and God knows what other creatures were out there. The very thought of the slimy bastards enraged him.

After a second more of silence, he shot a hand signal to Bouma, who relayed the gesture to the rest of the squad. It was time to move on. He led the team through the shadows, using the houses as protection.

At the end of the street he could see the outline of the Humvee. It was too early to smile in relief, but Overton grinned anyway.

Almost there.

Bursting around the final front yard, he moved into the street, waving his team on. “Let’s go,” he whispered over the channel.

They had made it halfway to the truck when the scraping of claws echoed on the concrete behind him. It was faint at first, and Overton hoped it was just Jeff or Kiel brushing up against a car door, but deep down he knew what made the sound.

Risking a glance over his shoulder, Overton saw a hazy but distinct blue flickering behind them.

Quickly he checked the distance between the team and the Humvee. It was too far. They would never make it.

“Down,” Overton muttered. He dropped to the ground and crawled under the nearest truck. The others followed suit, ducking for cover where they could, hiding behind anything that might shield them.

“Hold position,” Overton whispered over the open net. He watched
Bouma bring a finger to his mouth and silence the men who didn’t have access to the channel. They were a few yards back but seemed to understand.

Next, the sergeant continued crawling under the vehicle, his helmet scratching across the chassis. Wincing, he struggled to get a view of their six, where he’d seen the light.

He pulled his rifle close to his chest. Ever so carefully, he raised the scope to his visor, where it linked up with his HUD, and waited for the image to focus. What he saw paralyzed him. Dozens of contacts. Fifty. Maybe more. The end of the block was teeming with the creatures.

After a full career in recon, he knew better than anyone when to fight and when to run. This was not a time to make a stand.

“Emanuel, get that weapon ready! Everyone move!” Overton’s voice carried down the street and mixed with the shrieks of a dozen Spiders, which had climbed onto the tops of houses, cars, and trees in every direction.

Overton didn’t waste any time. Once he was on his feet, he took a single electromagnetic grenade and tossed it into the air.

“That’ll slow ’em down,” he grunted.

The squad zigzagged through the suburban street, dodging cars and jumping over plastic trash bins and lumps of fleshy gore. They made it to the Humvee just as a brilliant flash from the grenade knocked out their HUDs.

Overton grabbed the driver’s door and snapped around to make sure all his men were accounted for. Three large, two small—they were all there.

“Get us the hell out of here!” Kiel screamed, sliding into the backseat.

Thompson grabbed Jeff and boosted him into the Humvee. The big marine climbed in behind him while Emanuel jumped in the passenger seat. Bouma jumped in just as the engine roared to life.

Overton finally allowed himself to breathe and stomped on the pedal as if it were a poisonous spider. Twisting the wheel to the right, he steered the truck up onto a curb, smashing into three of the closest Spiders.

“Watch out!” Jeff yelled as another one of the creatures lunged off a rooftop and landed on the Humvee. Overton pushed down on the gas and they fishtailed; the alien scrambled, its talons sliding across the hood until one of them hooked into the soft metal.

“Go, go, go!” Thompson screamed. He pounded his fist on Overton’s headrest.

When the tires stopped squealing, the truck lurched forward and Overton steered it back onto the street. The Spider let out a deafening screech of pain. Two of its legs were trapped under the front of the vehicle. With one of its free legs, it swiped at the windshield. The glass shattered as the alien tore it away and launched the pane into the night.

“Shoot it! Someone shoot it!” Kiel yelled from the backseat.

Overton ducked as the Spider swiped through the open windshield with another claw. Throwing on the brakes, he sent the creature flying backward, two of its claws still stuck in the hood. The limbs ripped from its body, spraying blue goo in all directions. Overton didn’t waste any time smashing into the injured creature with the truck’s brush guard. The alien’s shrieks sent a thrill through him as he sped down the street, the Spider still stuck underneath the truck.

He snorted a laugh. “Having fun yet?”

Only Jeff laughed.

Taking a hard left, Overton pulled the Humvee onto the highway, and the Spiders finally disappeared from sight.

The sound of labored breathing filled the vehicle.

“Everyone okay back there?” Overton spun to check on his team.

Kiel nodded. “Jesus, man. That was close.”

“Seems to always be like that with this guy,” Emanuel said. He shook his head and turned to look out the window.

Jeff climbed up to look out the back window. “Holy crap! I can’t believe we made it out of there. Thanks for not forgetting about me.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. Like you said, I owed you one.”

Jeff chuckled and sat back down. He reached for a seat belt and clicked in.

“Where the hell are we going?” asked Thompson, wiping sweat from his flushed face. “And where the hell have you been hiding all this
time?”

Overton stared ahead at the dark road, using his night vision to navigate the littered highway. He checked the mirror again, looking at the dirty faces of his lost—and now found—men. Instead of responding, he pushed down harder on the pedal. There would be plenty of time to explain everything to them. For now, he wanted to make sure they got back to the Biosphere in one piece. He had a small army now, a team he could launch his counteroffensive with, and a weapon that would ensure success.

A crooked grin spread across his face. He would have his war after all.

CHAPTER 17

W
HEN
Alex awoke, he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. He tried to sit up, but a flash of pain in his forehead forced him back down. Beneath him was a soft bed—a small comfort, but only a distraction from the fear swelling inside him. The last thing he remembered was the beach packed with Spiders.

His brain was so full of cobwebs, his memories stuck together. The one thing he wanted to remember seemed out of his grasp. Clenching his teeth, he massaged his temples.

What the hell had happened to him, and how did he end up in this place?

The chirp of a monitor spread a gracious orange glow over the sparsely furnished room. The quarters were small, no larger than a holding cell. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he panicked. Was he in a jail? Had he been captured? The space looked human.

He scanned the room for anything useful—anything that could help him remember.

The monitor flashed again, and three letters rolled across the screen.

N
T
C

And then he remembered: the bright light, the massive vessel, and the NTC officers pumping water out of his lungs. He had been captured; he was aboard a New Tech Corporation submarine.

Alex tried to sit up again. He brought a hand to his pounding skull and tried to clear his mind. It was then he noticed the wrapping around his wrist. Someone had dressed his injury. His eyes fell to his legs.

He was dressed in sweats.
NTC
was stitched across his chest.

Footfalls outside the room pulled his attention to the open door. The panic subsided; there wasn’t any prison he knew of that kept the cells unlocked. He turned back to the monitor and noticed a tray on the small desk nearby. On it was a plate of food and . . . Alex could hardly believe his eyes. He jumped out of the bed and pounced on the glass of water. It was gone in one large gulp.

Next he attacked the plate of food. He shoved chunks into his mouth, not even sure what he was eating. His jaws were smacking so loudly, he almost missed the voice in the doorway.

“Hungry?”

Alex turned to see the same tall, bearded man from earlier. With his broad shoulders and red beard, he reminded Alex of a Viking. Several medals decorated the man’s chest, implying he was no ordinary NTC staffer. Alex was torn between wanting to shout at the man and wanting to thank him for his rescue. NTC had abandoned his Biosphere and left everyone to die, but these officers had dressed his wounds and given him water. He didn’t know how to react, or what to say.

“You’re one lucky son of a bitch,” the man said, and extended his hand. “Captain Rick Noble; we’re pleased to have you aboard.”

Alex reached out instinctively, his eyes still fixed on the captain’s medals. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Noble smiled. “I can assure you, Alex Wagner, you’ll be very safe—”

Hearing the man say his name reminded Alex of all that NTC had done. “Listen, I appreciate the rescue, I really do. But NTC knew about this shit from the beginning!” Alex said, his voice echoing off the walls. “You could have done something to stop it . . .” He trailed off as he considered his words. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe NTC couldn’t have stopped it. Maybe that’s why the sub was hiding under the ocean.

Noble didn’t immediately respond. Instead he turned toward the monitor, running a finger through his beard. The screen had switched to a video feed of a pair of jellyfish gliding by, a beautiful purple glow from their bodies illuminating the water around them. There was something tranquil about their movements. The anger building inside Alex subsided as he watched the creatures. He had seen them
on documentaries before, but it never occurred to him that he might someday see these animals in their natural habitat. As he watched their bodies pulsate, Alex shifted uncomfortably. The jellyfish were far too reminiscent of the aliens that had been hunting him for the past week.

“Fascinating, aren’t they?” asked Noble. “The fact that they can live so far down, where the pressure would kill a man in seconds, is nothing short of miraculous.”

Alex shook his head. “With all due respect, I doubt you paid me a visit to discuss biology. Why are you here? Why did you save me?”

Again, Noble remained silent, his blue eyes studying Alex. The tension between them built in the stillness. Finally the captain said, “If you want to find out, follow me. I think we can answer all your questions.”

Noble stalked out of the room, not bothering to see if Alex followed. Alex looked down again at the tray of food and noticed a small tube of medicated ointment. He would have smiled if his lips weren’t so cracked. NTC had certainly laid out the red carpet for his arrival. They had given him food, water, and medication for his dry lips. That was enough for him. Grabbing the tube, he raced into the hallway, yelling, “Wait up!”

Noble was waiting for him a few doors down, his hands clasped behind his back. He eyed Alex’s wrist before continuing down the hall.

“How’s that feeling?”

Alex looked down at his injured arm and shrugged. “Not bad.”

For the next several minutes he led Alex through the bowels of the massive sub. They walked in silence, and Alex took in the sounds of the ship. The scuffling of feet from busy crew, the sporadic chirps from engineering monitors, the hissing of steam. He soaked it all in.

As they passed through an auxiliary machine room, he realized he was not on a tour. Captain Noble was leading him somewhere. With every step, Alex felt a growing tension. Weeks of constant vigilance had left him on edge, and although there were no alien monsters here, NTC might be hiding something much worse on this secret submarine.

They continued through another series of passages. Blue screens and control panels lined the walls, monitoring everything from life support
systems to the sanitary sewer.

“Morning, sir,” a crew member said as Noble squeezed past him. Alex didn’t recognize her as one of his saviors from the night before, and he wondered how many people were aboard the submarine.

The captain nodded and smiled. “Morning, Pearce.”

As they traveled deeper into the vessel, Alex took note of the interaction between Noble and his crew. The captain made a conscientious effort to stop and say hello to every one of them. He wasn’t like the other NTC brass Alex had met. They had all been humorless hard-asses, exactly the sort of people who toed the company line even if it meant sending the rest of the world to hell. Alex hated the bastards on principle, but Noble seemed more, well,
noble
than the rest of them.

When they arrived at the CIC, Noble stopped. He turned to face Alex, his shoulders blocking the entrance.

“We don’t normally let civilians in here, but I’m making an exception for you,” he said. “This is the nerve center of the
Ghost of Atlantis
.”

Alex raised an eyebrow.

“Those of us in the know call her GOA—and luckily there aren’t many of us in the know. Our coordinates are top secret, and from what we’ve seen so far, the aliens apparently have a hard time detecting us through all this water. Ironic, isn’t it?”

Alex shrugged. He was just glad the Spiders hadn’t followed them into the water.

“Technically, you are standing inside the most advanced submarine ever engineered. Like Atlantis, we’re deep below the waves, hoping to stay hidden from an invading force. We have more than enough food and weapons in case we get into a dicey situation,” Noble said, smiling. “But enough about all that. Are you ready to see why I brought you here?”

Alex nodded, but as he followed the captain into the dimly lit room, he had the sinking feeling that he wasn’t ready for whatever Noble wanted to show him.

Everyone in the Humvee froze when they saw the ship. The drone was
flying low to the ground, cruising across the skyline.

Overton eased the truck to a stop and wedged the vehicle behind a pair of sedans. Killing the engine, he turned to look at Emanuel.

“Is that thing charged yet?”

The biologist shook his head. “I need more time.”

Bouma poked his helmeted head into the front seat. “Maybe it won’t see us,” he said.

Overton turned to watch the drone make another pass. It was circling, looking for something or someone.

Hunting.

They were only a few miles from the turnoff for the Biosphere—so close, but impossibly far at the same time. With a blink, Overton switched his HUD to infrared again, just to ensure there weren’t any other Organics in their path.

“I need to get back to my brother,” Jeff said.

“I know kid, I know. Let me think,” said Overton. He turned to Emanuel. “Don’t bullshit me. Will that thing work if we need it?”

“Yes,” said the scientist, “but the effect will carry over a shorter range than the last time.”

Overton exhaled, fogging up his visor. “All right, we sit here for five more minutes. If the drone doesn’t pass us by, we go to plan B.”

“What’s plan B?” Kiel asked.

“I don’t know yet, but I have five minutes to figure it out.”

“Guys . . .” Jeff whispered. Louder, he repeated, “Guys!”

“What is it, kid?” Overton barked, turning to look at the boy. As soon as he did, he saw the horde of Spiders barreling down the highway.

Jeff looked up at Overton, squinting. “Let’s kill ’em,” he said. “Let’s kill ’em all.”

Overton saw Bouma smile from the backseat. That was his line.

The CIC was packed with staffers, some carrying tablets, others carrying old-fashioned notebooks. A chorus of chirps and beeps echoed through the space. Overhead, red and white LEDs flickered in every direction. The entire scene was chaos. After being alone for so long, the
noise made Alex feel uneasy.

“This is where we monitor everything. And by
everything
, I mean everything. See that over there?” Noble said, pointing to a hologram of what appeared to be the UK. “They got hit the worst. The Biosphere there has been silent since invasion day. We’ve had intermittent contact with the Brazilian Biosphere, but nothing in the past week.”

“How many Biospheres are there?” asked Alex.

“There were fifty, strategically placed throughout the world. Truth is, we didn’t know about them until we received a message from Doctor Hoffman. Before that, we had been drifting through the Pacific for five months with no details about our deployment.”

Noble paused and looked at the electronic map of the world.

“There are only ten Biospheres left that we know of. Every week it seems like one of those red dots fades off the screen. Thankfully, a few are still holding strong. Our Cheyenne Mountain facility seems to be faring much better than the others.”

“Dr. Rodriguez,” Alex blurted, remembering their conversation. “From Cheyenne Mountain. I spoke to him on the radio back on the beach. He said something about developing a weapon that could change the course of the war.”

“What else did he say?” Noble asked, his eyes instantly growing wider.

“That’s it. I was being chased by those things.” Alex looked at his feet.

Noble nodded, and didn’t press any further. “You’re damned lucky to be alive, Alex. Damned lucky. Without that radio sending us signals, you would have been fish food by now.”

Alex glanced at the radio sticking out of his pocket. The top of the device was scratched from when he had tossed it aside a few days before. He tucked it deeper into the safety of his pocket.

“You okay?” Noble asked.

“Yeah. I just don’t get it. If all modern communications have been knocked out—including satellites—then how does this radio work?”

“Good question,” Noble quickly replied. “Truth is, we don’t really know why, but anything analog seems to work. The magnetic
disturbance above the surface,” he said, pointing toward the ceiling. “It fried most everything on invasion day, and it continues to disrupt communications. Whoever designed the radio for the Biospheres must have known something we don’t. This sub is linked directly to the channel these analog radios transmit on.”

Alex scowled. “So you’re saying that NTC knew about the invasion?”

“I’d say there’s a good chance, although I don’t know much more than you,” Noble replied. He turned to check one of the monitors before continuing through the CIC. They passed a pair of holographic charts and stopped at a large monitor. “We’re learning more and more about the aliens every day, which still isn’t much in the scheme of things, but enough to start planning.”

“Planning?”

“An offensive. This vessel is humanity’s best hope and her most valuable weapon. We’re equipped with nuclear-tipped missiles, three NTC-44 helicopters, a smaller sub for recon, and a crew of 120 brilliant men and women. We’re more than capable of waging a full-fledged war from eight hundred feet beneath the surface.”

Alex surveyed the CIC again. He was impressed, but after seeing what had happened on the outside, he doubted the sub could do much more than annoy the Organics.

“Follow me,” Noble said, motioning Alex past an NTC guard at the hatch. As they made their way down a small flight of metal stairs into the heart of the CIC, a man in a neatly pressed blue NTC uniform approached them.

“Captain on deck,” he said.

Noble smiled. “Lieutenant Commander Lin, this is Alex Wagner.”

Lin reached out to shake Alex’s hand. “Welcome aboard.” Though his words were friendly, there was a calculating intelligence in his eyes.

“There’s someone else I’d like you to meet,” Noble said. “Irene, are you busy?”

An orange avatar shot out of a console next to the door. Alex knew right away it was the ship’s AI. She had the cropped hair typical of other AIs, but she wore glasses—something he’d never seen before.

“Hello, Alex. I am Irene. Welcome to the
Ghost of Atlantis
. Please do
not hesitate to ask if you need anything,” she said with a thick Russian accent.

“Thank you,” Alex said as he followed Noble past another row of terminals. “A Russian AI?” he whispered.

The captain chuckled. “I failed to mention the most advanced submarine in the world was actually built by the Russians. Commissioned by NTC in twenty fifty-nine.”