HOLDING his breath, Emanuel crossed the room. With a sample of Sophie’s blood in hand he felt like he was holding the most important sample in the world. If she was infected with the alien nanobots, then . . . Well, he wasn’t sure what they would do.
He glanced over at her sleeping profile, the MindTec still hiding her face behind its white plastic arches. It was hard to believe she wasn’t compromised—that her irrational behavior and her thoughts were just part of a state of depression or anxiety.
There was little doubt in Emanuel’s mind that the sample he was carrying would show the same thing that Smith’s had. She was infected. Just how badly was the real question.
“Alexia, prepare for scan.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she replied.
He felt Holly’s hand on his shoulder.
“You ready?” he asked her.
She wiped another tear from her eye and then gave him an unsure half frown. Emanuel motioned toward the chair next to the dual monitors with his free hand. Then he moved to the electron microscope and slid the small tray of Sophie’s blood inside.
He pressed his eye against the machine, too impatient to wait for the image to transfer to the monitors.
“What do you see?” Holly quickly asked.
There it was.
Small, peppercorn-shaped nanobots floated freely. Emanuel zoomed in, still holding his breath. They were like those he’d found in Smith’s blood, but slightly different. Unlike those in Smith’s blood, Sophie’s did not have the same tentacle strands extending from the ends of the nanobots.
“Well?” Holly asked.
He pulled away from the device and looked at the AI console. “What do you make of this, Alexia?”
“Doctor Winston does not appear to have the severe case that Lieutenant Smith is suffering from. I’d hypothesize that the nanobots are replicating very slowly. The bots don’t appear to carry the electrical current.”
“Yet,” Emanuel said.
Holly put her hands on her flushed cheeks. “So if Sophie goes outside, then the alien technology will take over her body?”
“Their rate of reproduction would likely increase exponentially,” Alexia replied. “As you may remember, the nanobots in Smith’s sample all held charges. They were weak, but they appeared to be searching for something.”
Emanuel pressed his eye back against the microscope. The cluster of bots moved lethargically. The observation gave him a moment of hope, a snapshot of an emotion that he’d learned to suppress whenever it surfaced.
“Alexia, why aren’t the bots replicating?” Emanuel asked.
“Well,” Alexia replied, “I would argue the nanobots function in several ways. First, the water removal: the orbs, the poles at the human farms, they all seem to remove water through this alien nanotechnology. Second, they all seem to hold an electrical charge, a charge fueled by the surge, which is then conducted through the Organics’ limbs to form a shield.”
“Sounds correct to me,” Emanuel replied. “But your earlier scans didn’t detect the bots removing any water from Smith. So what is their purpose in the human body?”
“Inconclusive, Doctor.”
Emanuel grunted with frustration. “We know one thing. It’s killing Smith.” He lowered his voice and turned to look at the marine.
“So what are we going to do?” Holly asked. She paced back and forth across the room nervously.
He reached for Holly’s hands and squeezed them softly. “It’s going to be okay. I have an idea.”
He saw a desperate look in her eyes, pleading for good news. Only this time he couldn’t lie.
Emanuel moved back to the monitor, his feet slow and heavy. “Alexia, is there a way to shut off the nanotech without causing further harm to the human cells?”
“Perhaps,” Alexia replied, “but that would require medical equipment we don’t have.”
Emanuel ran a hand through his hair. “So the only option we have is to zap Smith and Sophie with the RVAMP and hope it kills just the nanobots and not them?”
“I see no other option, Doctor,” Alexia replied.
Holly’s face drained of its color. In a soft voice she said, “What if it kills them?”
“I’m afraid it will kill them either way,” Emanuel said gravely. Walking over to Sophie’s bedside, he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. They had no other choice. They had to try and save her.
Emanuel ran his index finger across Sophie’s cheek and watched her sleep. She looked peaceful, a small comfort after all she’d experienced. He rubbed his eyes and said, “We should try and get some sleep.”
Holly exhaled audibly. “I sure could use some.” She reached over and squeezed Emanuel’s hand one more time and said, “Thank you. Thank you for doing all of this for Sophie.”
He managed a smile, “Meet me back here at seven AM. We’ll run this by Sophie when she wakes. After all, it’s her decision.”
She nodded and crossed the room, stopping in the doorway. “Alexia. Please look after Sophie.”
“Certainly, Doctor Brown. Goodnight.”
Leaning over Sophie, Emanuel kissed her softly on the forehead in the gap between the plastic MindTec arches.
“Goodnight,” he whispered into her ear.
He hesitated before leaving the room. Something didn’t feel quite right. It lasted only a few seconds, and a quick scan of the room revealed nothing. Smith and Sophie were both fast asleep, their eyelids closed.
Shrugging the paranoia off, Emanuel was moving toward the exit when he suddenly felt as if he was being observed. When he turned, he could have sworn Smith’s eyes were open. He froze, focusing on her profile, but saw nothing to indicate she was conscious. With a yawn, he pulled Smith’s blanket up to her neck and then walked out of the room.
Lieutenant Smith peeled back an eyelid. She watched the bearded man leave the room. A moment later a tingling began working its way through her body.
Her toes moved first. Then her right leg, and then both of her legs. Before she knew what was happening she sat up, her gaze sweeping the room. She focused on two dual monitors above the main terminal. She noted the wall cameras above the displays, one of which had settled on her, studying her, as she was studying it.
She sprang to her feet and sprinted to the monitor. Her hands shot out and typed on the keyboard. A screen she didn’t recognize emerged.
AI MAINFRAME
Smith’s fingers danced across the keyboard, typing commands she didn’t understand. The involuntary action prompted the calm robotic voice she’d heard before.
“What are you doing, Lieutenant Smith?” Alexia asked.
Smith ignored her.
New data rolled across the display.
WARNING—COMMAND WILL SHUT DOWN AI
DO YOU WISH TO PROCEED?
Smith watched her right index finger hover over the Enter key. She pushed down.
AI WILL SHUT DOWN IN T MINUS 15 SECONDS . . .
DO YOU STILL WISH TO PROCEED?
She suddenly felt a presence to her right. Alexia’s face had emerged above the console. “Please do not proceed any further. I will be forced to take severe measures. This is your only warning.”
Smith’s lips parted into a sadistic smile. She felt powerful. Without further hesitation she hit the Enter key again, and the AI’s translucent image faded away.
Turning, the marine rushed across the room to the exit. The time had finally come to return to the blue ones, the architects. She twisted the door handle and slipped into the darkness.
Holding his arm, Captain Noble returned to the CIC from the medical bay. The swelling had gone down, but it was still sore to the touch. The scene in front of him instilled a different type of pain, a mental anguish that was far worse than any torn muscle or ligament.
The smoke had cleared and most of the systems were already back online, but the damage was severe. Noble reflected on words his father had said the night he had died.
Every commander will regret an order over the course of their career. The test of a true leader is how they recover from that decision and what they learn from their mistake.
Depends on how big the mistake is, Noble mused, scanning the CIC. How many had died because of his decision? How many more would die now that the GOA was damaged? The ripple effect was extensive.
Leaders were rarely allowed the luxury of a second chance during a time of war. He’d had more than his share of them. Like those stories he’d grown up listening to about soldiers surviving countless bullet wounds. But he wasn’t sure he deserved the same luxury.
The crackle of white noise over the PA system snapped him from his thoughts.
“Captain, we have casualty reports coming in from the med bay,” Irene said.
“Go ahead,” Noble said with reservation.
“Twelve dead, and thirty-four wounded, sir.”
His gaze dropped to the floor, numbness prickling down his body. The reports were worse than he thought. Over half of his crew dead or wounded.
“Damage was severe. Engines 1 and 2 are still offline, but I’ve been able to reroute power to Engines 3 and 4. They are both fully operational,” Irene said. “Compartments 4 and 5 were purged of water and sealed. I also cleared Compartment 6. All systems are back online.”
“What about the cargo bay?” Noble asked. “Were crews able to salvage anything besides the Sea Serpent?”
“Aye, sir. Engineering believes they will be able to restore some of the vehicles and one of the gunships.”
“How about the drones?”
“Only one left.”
Goddammit, Noble thought. “Tell Ort I want to see him when he has a moment.”
The wheels from a stretcher clanked over the metal grid tiles on the top floor of the bridge. A pair of medics pushed the last body across the platform. Noble watched them struggle to get the wide cart through the glass doors.
“Move your end to the right,” one of the men said. With a grunt he shoved the bed. The edge clipped the door and the deceased’s hand flopped over the side.
Noble saw a thick gold ring sparkle under the bank of LED lights. His stomach sank; below the white sheets lay the body of his XO. He bowed his head, forcing himself to look away.
Behind him Athena cleared her throat and put her hand on his shoulder. “Sir, are you okay?” Her touch was comforting, and for a moment he let himself enjoy the unfamiliar sensation.
Her hand slid away. “Sir, I’d like you to look at something.”
She continued to talk as they walked across the bridge to her station. “When Irene rerouted power, I noticed something.”
Noble raised a brow as they arrived at Athena’s terminal. The left monitor displayed the map of the Biospheres Dr. Hoffman had constructed across the globe. His stomach churned for a second time in as many minutes when he saw all the lights had gone dark. Cheyenne Mountain was offline.
“This can’t be right,” he mumbled, sitting down in her chair for a better look.
“That’s what I thought, but I already checked with Trish. She can’t get a signal from them.”
Noble stood and looked for his communications officer. Near the front of the room, from which the rows of monitors were separated by a middle passage, he saw the profiles of three crew members huddled around the main display. They spoke in a hushed whisper with a maintenance worker in a red pair of coveralls.
“Trish,” he shouted, waving her toward him.
Trish’s freckled face emerged from the group a few seconds later. “Sir,” she said.
“What do you make of this?” he asked, gesturing toward the Biosphere map.
The young officer leaned over and punched a code into the terminal. The screen flickered and a diagnostic report emerged.
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN . . .
UTM COORDINATES . . .
LAST CONTACT . . .
0745 HOURS . . .
“The last signal picked up from the Biosphere was thirty minutes ago,” Trish replied. “Usually the signal is continuous.”
Noble resisted the urge to scratch his chin. He looked up, toward the front of the room. Travis and Reggie were glaring at him. When they noticed he was staring, they turned back to the maintenance worker.
“Could this be from interference?” Athena asked.
“Unlikely,” Trish replied. “We haven’t had any since the invasion. When those lights go out”—she pointed at the map and then ran a finger across her neck— “it means something catastrophic has occurred at the Biosphere.”
Noble had heard enough. “Irene!” he shouted.
One of the remaining speakers in the corner of the room crackled. “Yes, Captain.”
He paused to consider his next command, giving himself an order first. Maintain your focus. You are no good to your crew without your level head. He remembered his father’s words:
Will you run from the horsemen, or will you fight?
But the horsemen weren’t human. There wasn’t a manual that he could consult to determine their next move. After losing the X-9, the only allies he had left in the world were Dr. Sophie Winston and her team at Cheyenne Mountain.
In the world.
Noble thought about that, sweeping two fingers across his jawline, from one side to the other and back again. The answer was clear to him. He had to know what happened at Cheyenne Mountain. “Irene,” he said firmly. “You’re my new XO.”
“Aye aye, sir,” she replied.
“Your first order . . .”
The room went silent. Even the red-suited maintenance worker paused in anticipation.
“I want to send our remaining drone to Cheyenne Mountain to try and reestablish contact,” he said.
“What?” Trish replied. “You’re kidding, sir.” She suddenly looked away, as though ashamed of losing her self-control.
Noble folded his arms and raised his voice. Loud enough to remind Trish he was still in charge.
“Doctor Rodriguez provided us with the weapon that could end this war. I made a promise when I was at Cheyenne Mountain. I told them I wouldn’t abandon them.”
Trish crinkled her nose. “Sir, with all due respect, sending out our last drone is senseless. A waste of precious resources.”
Another voice chimed in. “I’m with the captain,” Athena blurted. “There has to be some explanation,” she said, her voice almost pleading for an answer. “What if the Biosphere team needs our help? They may be our last connection to the outside world.”
Trish sighed deeply. “There is an explanation,” she said. “Everyone there is dead.”