Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [47]
Although they hadn’t found a way to get out of the ventilation systems—most of the grates were only about a hand span across—they had been able to look into many compartments. The shuttle bay was huge and currently occupied by two ships, including, presumably, the one that had lifted them off the surface of Mars. Two other docking berths were empty.
They located the control center for the ship’s massive external batteries as well. A dozen Eluoi worked in that large compartment, watching screens and fiddling with massive and intricate controls. The humans studied the gunners silently but were unable to deduce how to control the weapons. But at least they knew where they were controlled from.
They also located the large barracks where some fifty prisoners were contained in more crowded conditions than those of the Earthlings. These were obviously the original Shamani crew of the ship, judging by their hair and eye color. They were a mix of males and females, and most seemed to sit about lethargically. Some of them appeared to be meditating, others sleeping. Conversation was minimal, and the males and females apparently had segregated themselves on either side of the large compartment, though there was no physical barrier between them.
The two snooping SEALS received a nasty start when a horn blared while they were observing the Shamani prisoners, but it proved to be just some sort of summons. They watched while half the captives filed slowly out the door. There was a smell of strong spices wafting through the compartment, and they eventually concluded that the horn simply might have been an announcement of mess time.
Nearby was another, more luxurious compartment just beyond the prisoners. Feeling a little bit like Peeping Toms, they watched Consul Char-Kane enter that room and deduced that those were her quarters. She began to peel off her tunic as the SEALS hastily moved on to the next observation.
Now they were making their way slowly back to their own compartment. After catching their breath and wiping off the sweat, they continued on. Master Chief Ruiz noticed with some surprise that their white clothes were staying very clean; the vast network of ducts seemed to hold very little dust.
Harris stopped at another grate and looked down into a dimly lit storage locker while Ruiz waited behind him.
“Psst!” the bosun’s mate said urgently. “Master Chief, have a look!”
The master chief crawled forward and looked down with eyes already used to almost zero illumination. As a result, the satchels and uniforms, backpacks, guns, harnesses, and pressure suits secured in the racks of the storage locker were instantly recognizable as very welcome old friends.
And in that recognition he found renewed hope.
“We found our equipment, LT,” Ruiz explained in a hoarse whisper. “It’s on the same deck as this compartment!”
“Good work, Chief,” Jackson replied. He listened intently as the two men, pointing out the details on the schematic of the ship, described their reconnaissance. They showed him where the control room for the ship’s external batteries was, as well as the shuttle bays, the dormitory quarters where the Shamani prisoners were contained, and the other features they had discovered during their excursion.
The conference was interrupted, however, when Parker came in and announced, “Consul Char-Kane is outside. She said she needs to see you right away.”
“Bring her in,” the lieutenant said, and the director stood back to let the Shamani woman enter.
“What’s up?” Jackson asked.
“Several things. We’re nearing our destination, which is an Eluoi city on a world called Batuun. The savant intends to take you to the anthropology lab there for study.”
“Not without a fight!” the lieutenant growled.
“Actually, there will be no fight if Tezlac Catal has his way. In about one hour he intends to have your compartments filled with disabling gas, the same gas that he used to knock you and your men out in the shuttle when you first arrived here. You will be trundled up like so many sacks of flour and borne