Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [44]
“If we can get the drop on a couple of these bastards the next time they come down here for a parley, maybe we can take over the ship,” Master Chief Ruiz suggested in a hoarse whisper.
Jackson shook his head. “I got a look at this place when they hauled me up to the bridge. It’s the size of an aircraft carrier—think Nimitz class.” He referred to a class of ship from the late twentieth century that had been replaced in recent decades by smaller aircraft carriers, but every one of the SEALS knew what he meant.
Ruiz shook his head in frustration. “Then what are we going to do, LT?”
“We’re going to keep our eyes open and our wits sharp. For now, we’re going to learn as much as we can.”
“That outer door is sealed but good,” LaRue said grimly. “Rocky and I worked on it for an hour and couldn’t get the sucker to budge.”
“There’s not much to see in this room,” Chief Harris said bitterly. “The ventilation ducts are all too narrow for anything bigger than a house cat even if we could pry off the grates. There’s nothing useful in that little kitchenette they call a mess: plastic bowls and those flat paddles they use for spoons. And the only exit from the head is the water drain, and that has a valve in it.”
Jackson nodded, not surprised. “I’ve requested another space, somewhere where we can exercise, from Catal. I stressed that we will atrophy quickly and that if he wants his people to study us, he needs to allow us to keep in shape.”
The door to the barracks room whooshed open at that moment. Consul Char-Kane of the Shamani, flanked by a pair of Eluoi guards, entered. The guards remained outside, and the door closed behind her.
“So, you’re up and about, I see,” Jackson said sarcastically. He wasn’t entirely sure he trusted her, especially since she seemed to have the run of the ship where she was supposedly a prisoner.
“I am up, yes. But what am I about?’ she asked, puzzled.
“Never mind,” the lieutenant replied. “What brings you down to our little corner of the ship?”
“The savant has agreed to your request for an exercise space,” she announced. “He requested that I come here to inform you of that fact.”
“Savant?” Dr. Sulati asked.
“That’s the Tezlac Catal fellow I was telling you about,” Jackson explained.
Char-Kane nodded. “It’s a title of very high esteem among the Eluoi. They are a mystical people, given to superstition, much of it based on the legacy of their great prophet, who lived some five thousand years ago. The savants are his direct descendants, and they wield absolute power in Eluoi society.”
“You seem quite friendly with him,” Director Parker declared pointedly. The Bostonian had been growing increasingly restless and vocal as the hours had passed with no overt action taken against them. “We have been betrayed. Why should we accept anything you tell us?”
“My people have been betrayed, too,” Char-Kane said with no outward sign of offense. “There were many Eluoi agents planted among the crew of this ship. A number of my people were killed when the ship was taken over. The rest are in captivity in another hold.”
The MS1 director huffed. “I still don’t see—”
“So Catal is willing to let us stretch out a bit?” Jackson interrupted.
“Yes. There is a large space down the corridor from this room. He has agreed that those three compartments can be opened to you, since he can easily seal off the transport shaft connecting this area to the rest of the ship. But it will give you room to move around, to, as you called it, ‘stretch out.’”
“How long are we going to be traveling, and where are we going?” the LT wondered.
“I do not know our destination, though it will be one of the Eluoi worlds near this rim of the galaxy. We are in the void between the stars now, traveling far faster than light. At these speeds, intervals of travel can be minimized but not eliminated. A trip across the galaxy, for example, would