One hundred pounds . . . Organic . . . Liquid composition . . .

The results can’t be correct. No such insect exists in my database. Not even in the radioactive Wastelands. I run the diagnostic again and the same results are returned.

Fascinating.

Whatever the entities are, they have entered the facility but have not infiltrated the Biosphere. As the sounds fade, so do the radar blips. I pause for less than a second to consider protocol. Another test, and I’ve determined their trajectory.

It is 99.9 percent likely they are headed toward Biome 2, the Biosphere’s water supply. I do not need to run a test to know it is time to notify Dr. Brown.

Timothy cleared his throat. He was agitated—more so than normal—and his tics had gotten worse. He concentrated on his right eye, closing it for several seconds, waiting for the twitch to go away. Then he slowly opened the lid and widened his eyes.

Twitch. Twitch.

“Shit!” he yelled, stomping his foot on the concrete ground.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Roberts?” Alexia asked, her image appearing on a console in the center of the command room.

“Nothing, mind your own business, holo-girl,” he replied with a snarky grin.

“Very well, Mr. Roberts.”

“Wait, wait!” he yelled, watching her image begin to flicker and fade.

“Yes?” she asked politely.

“Have you heard anything from Sophie or the Marines?”

“No, Mr. Roberts. I lost contact when they reached Latitude 38—”

“I don’t care what location they were at when you lost contact, I want to know where they are now,” he said, drawing out the final word into a whine.

“I apologize, sir, but I do not have access to that information. The magnetic disturbance is preventing any long-distance audio and video feeds.”

Timothy shook his head and slouched in the plush office chair, putting his feet up on the metallic desk. Reaching into a plastic bag, he retrieved a single sunflower seed and popped it into his mouth. He bit down and separated the seed from the shell. His tongue flicked the seed to one side of his mouth. As he prepared to bite into the tiny morsel, his eye twitched again.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled, spitting both the seed and shell into the air.

The sound of the room’s sliding glass door opening distracted him for a moment. He craned his neck, nearly falling out of his chair as Holly raced into the room.

“We have a situation,” she said frantically, her eyes wide.

Timothy looked past her and saw Owen cowering behind her legs.

“What type of situation?” he asked, his twitch becoming more rapid.

The console in the center of the room once again glowed and Alexia’s image flickered to life.

“We have contacts in the tunnel connecting the hangar to the Biosphere facility,” she said.

Timothy stiffened. “What do you mean, contacts?”