Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [67]
“Is that a military installation?” the lieutenant wondered.
Char-Kane followed his pointing finger. “I doubt it. I suspect that is the spaceport, where shuttles land and launch and receive service. Of course, it will have a military component, but I suspect it serves the whole planet.”
They watched as rockets flared on one blunt-nosed shuttle and the craft rocketed into the sky, trailing smoke, accelerating on a course that suggested it was heading for orbit. Moments later, another shuttle came into view, this one a circular vehicle that was descending, braced against gravity by the thrusting of four rockets.
“That looks just like the one that came down to Mars,” Jackson noted, observing the different shape of the round ship compared to the sleeker and more pointed shuttles that were standing here and there on the spaceport.
“It is!” Char-Kane said, an unusual degree of excitement in her voice. “That is a Shamani shuttle. It must be the other one from the Gladiola.”
“Can you hold this pattern?” Jackson asked. “I’d like to keep an eye on that shuttle.”
“You got it, LT,” Falco replied. With a gentle touch on the controls, he guided the aircraft into a gently banked turn, allowing them to circle some distance away from the spaceport.
The lieutenant was looking over the controls, seeing several vidscreens that currently were displaying views before, behind, and to either side of their transport. “Is there any way to zoom these things in?” he asked Char-Kane.
Before she could reply, Sanders had figured out the controls and managed to bring one camera into position to get a fairly good look at the descending shuttle just as it was touching down in the middle of a great cloud of billowing smoke. Backing out a bit to widen the view, the ensign whistled.
“Looks like they’re pulling out all the stops with the honor guard,” he said, pointing to the screen. Jackson saw large formations of troops, all drawn up with parade-ground precision, marking off a large square, with the shuttle landing in the middle. Each formation looked to be the size of a full battalion and was centered on a flag bearer who held up a white banner on which that green bull’s-eye was prominently displayed.
“One’ll get you ten the savant is aboard that shuttle,” the lieutenant suggested.
They watched for a few more minutes as the smoke cleared and the debarkation ramp lowered from the belly of the shuttle. The resolution was not clear enough to recognize faces, but from the glimmering gold around the sleeves of the first passenger to debark, they were pretty certain Jackson was right. Several other people trailed behind him, and the newly landed travelers broke into two parties.
One, led by the savant, entered a large transport craft that took off immediately, escorted by several fighter-type jetcars. The other passengers got into a transport similar to the one the SEALS had captured, and that one, too, quickly took to the air.
“Follow that ship, the smaller one,” Jackson ordered.
Keeping about ten klicks back but watching their target through the vidscreen, the SEALS trailed along. A visual inspection showed that the larger transport, the one presumably carrying the savant, was heading directly for the pyramid. The small aircraft traveled in the same direction but finally slowed and settled into a landing approach on one of the flat-topped buildings right next to the government center.
They held back, still watching, until Falco looked at the officer and indicated one of the dials.
“This thing has been flying all day, LT,” he declared. “And it looks like we’re getting near the end of the reserve tanks. We’ll have to set her down pretty soon.”
“All right, Derek. Hold on just a sec—move in a little closer and let’s see what happens.”
They maximized the magnification of the viewer and watched as the jetcar landed on a circular pad between several large hangars. Falco eased them as close as he dared, and they watched the screen