The Clones of Mawcett (37 page)

As Jenetta walked through the wide docking tunnel that extended from the ship to the dock, memories of her time as a captive at Raider-One flooded her mind. More important matters had occupied her conscious thoughts back then, so the base's architecture had definitely taken a back seat, but from what she remembered, this base appeared identical. At the end of the tunnel, Jenetta stepped into an enclosed dock wide enough for two vehicles or robot loaders to pass easily and safely. The enclosed dock extended out alongside the ship for over a hundred meters from the habitat's perimeter platform, but the airlock in the Prometheus' forward cargo bay was only thirty meters from the front of the ship, so Jenetta's trek was a short one.

A fifteen-meter wide platform extended along the entire front of the habitat and beyond, continuing from the first dock towards the rear of the cavern until it reached the last. A wall of reinforced plasticrete, several meters thick, between the ships in the cavern and the platform, helped insure that the habitat wasn't breached if a pilot got careless when docking. It would take a collision powerful enough to collapse the front of the ship before the platform's protective wall was damaged enough to lose atmosphere. And there were additional protections to insure that the habitat remained airtight even if a ship intentionally rammed the habitat. The back side of the platform abutted another three-meter, reinforced plasticrete wall. A dozen corridors, each with emergency bulkheads, provided entrance to the cargo area. In the event that a drop in pressure occurred on the platform, the bulkhead walls would immediately slide down into place, effectively sealing the habitat and preserving its atmosphere.

Passing through the nearest corridor brought Jenetta to the station's Docking Level cargo area. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of prisoners were sitting on the deck surrounded by armed Marines ready to open fire on any Raider who decided that he or she wanted to fight after all.

Jenetta moved to the deck area established as a temporary command center. As she reached a makeshift table constructed from packing crates, Marine Major Visconti came to an easy attention. At fifty-eight years of age, Visconti had finally overcome the strange feelings he used to experience when he found himself in Jenetta's presence. He knew she was deserving of his respect for the things she had accomplished, but her youthful appearance had for long time troubled him greatly. As a senior officer and forty-year veteran of the Corps, treating someone who looked like an Academy cadet as an equal, or worse, as a superior, was— unsettling.

“At ease, Major. I have orders from Captain Gavin to take command of the station.”

“Yes ma'am, I was so notified.”

“How many prisoners do you have here?”

“One thousand six-hundred forty-seven, mostly men.”

“Have you begun searching for hold-outs?”

“Yes ma'am. Patrols are scouring the station deck by deck,” he said, pointing to floor plans of the station spread out in front of him on the improvised table. Found in the warehouse manager's office, the plans made the task at hand much easier. “Our sensors can pick up the heartbeat of a mouse at a hundred meters, so if anyone is hiding, we'll find them.”

The Docking Level here, like the Docking Level at Raider-One, had a twenty-five-meter high ceiling. According to the deck plans, the next level up had the same basic floor layout and ceiling height. The ceiling heights allowed twenty-meter tall shipping containers to be brought into the warehouse area for loading or unloading via a special airlock located just before the dock platform began it's long passage into the cavern. A lift large enough to accommodate the forty-meter long cargo containers assisted the movement of cargo between the two levels.

“Have you been to the detention center yet?”

“Not yet, ma'am. I concentrated most of my force at the top level of the habitat and they're working their way down, clearing and sealing each level as they go.”

“Where's the commandant of the station?”

“He's over with that group,” Major Visconti said, pointing. “They're the senior personnel.”

“Thank you, Major. Carry on.”

As Jenetta moved towards the prisoners that the Major had pointed to, she knew that she probably could have identified this group without having them singled out. Even in defeat, their faces exuded self-confidence. They were people used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question."

“Who's the senior security person here?” Jenetta asked loudly.

No one spoke up.

“We can find out easily enough if you want to do this the hard way, but it won't be as pleasant.”

“I am,” a man in his late fifties said.

“Your name?”

“Polito. Captain Dennis Polito.”

“Stand up, Dennis.”

“Who are you?” he asked, as he continued to sit on the deck.

“Don't you know?” Jenetta asked, her eyebrows arched in surprise that a Raider chief security officer might not know what she looked like. Her image had been plastered across every newspaper, magazine, and vid news broadcast innumerous times during the past two years. Although her appearance had changed slightly as the DNA changes progressed, he should recognize her.

“You look a little like that Carver bitch that destroyed Raider-One.”

Any hope that Christa was on the station, or ever had been, immediately evaporated. The Raider security officer would certainly have recognized Jenetta immediately if Christa had been here. She worked to keep any sign of disappointment from showing her face. She knew that she had to appear powerful and callous to receive any respect from this man. He was the type that reveled in intimidating others.

“See?” Jenetta said smiling evilly. “You already knew who I am.”

“I'd like just ten minutes with you, alone,” he said, as he got to his feet, his hands clenching and unclenching.

“Commander Pretorious had a similar wish,” Jenetta said softly. “It turned out to be the very last wish he ever made. Be careful what you wish for, Dennis; I don't have much use for Raider jailers. Did you know the late Commander, by the way?”

“I knew him. I had a lot of friends on that station.”

“His neck made the most peculiar sound when I snapped it,” Jenetta said, trying to appear icily calm and speak with clinical detachment as she thought about the fight. “It totally spoiled his aim, and he only succeeded in ruining my tunic with the laser pistol that he was aiming at me.” She stared intently at the Raider officer. “I bet you probably had friends on this station also, but a lot of them are now floating around outside, without E.V.A. suits. At least you were smart enough to surrender without a fight. Now tell me, Dennis, how many prisoners do you have in your detention center here?”

The security man glared at her for a few seconds. She had as much as called him a coward in front of his associates. He said, through clenched teeth, “Sixty-seven.”

“How many men, how many women?”

“Forty-two men, twenty-five women.”

“Where's your electronic controller?”

“It was confiscated by your Spacc Marines.”

“Okay, Dennis. Sit down again.” Jenetta said, waving her hand in dismissal as if he was a small child.

He glowered at her as he sat back down.

She looked over the prisoners until she spotted the individual that had earlier identified himself as the commandant of the station.

“You, commandant what's your name, where's your controller?” Jenetta knew that he had identified himself as Commandant Mercandis, but she purposely avoided using his name to make him feel insignificant. Deflating his ego a little could help weaken his resolve during interrogation sessions later.

“It was confiscated also.”

Jenetta turned and walked back to the command post. “Major, where are the possessions that were confiscated from the prisoners when they were searched?”

“Over there, ma'am,” he said, pointing to several open-topped packing crates filled with clothing and various sundry items. “What are you looking for?”

“Two things. First, I need one of the large brass keys used by the guards to open the cell doors. And second I need a restraints controller; either a black one or a green one.”

“What's the difference?”

“There are four colors. Only the green and black controllers, the ones belonging to the detention center supervisor and the base commandant, can lock and unlock the collars, so I need one of those to free the captives in the detention center.”

Searching through the crates, they found a number of keys, half a dozen blue controllers, and even a few red ones before Major Visconti came up with the green one at the same time that Jenetta found the black one.

“Thank you, Major. I'll need a squad of your men to accompany me to the detention center, and also a look at your deck plans.”

Twenty minutes later Jenetta entered the detention center with the squad of Marines. The Marines went in first and made sure that the area was clear of guards and holdouts, then Jenetta started with cellblock A, freeing each of the prisoners, one at a time. Memories of her own time in the Raider detention center on Raider-One again flooded her mind as she dealt with the human wreckage that she found. As on Raider-One, the women were being systematically brainwashed to make compliant pleasure slaves, and the men were just worn down from the constant brutal treatment designed to subjugate them and make them compliant slaves for the hard labor camps.

At first, most of the prisoners wouldn't believe they were being released. They thought it was just one more prank being perpetrated by the sadistic guards. Only when their neck collars were removed did they begin to believe that the release was genuine. The women either broke down in tears, or cowered in fear, while the men reacted by trying to shake hands with each of the Marine males and trying to hug or kiss Jenetta or the two Marine females. There was no additional threat, as had been the case when Jenetta made her escape from Raider-One, so the captives could just relax and be themselves.

When all the captives were free, Jenetta led the way back to the Docking Level, passing three Marine mop-up patrols on the way. She personally escorted the group to the docking bay where the Prometheus was moored and turned them over to the housing officer. For now, the former captives would be taken to a conference room, fed, and clothed. While still guarded, their identities would be checked to ensure that they were in fact Raider captives, and not Raiders attempting to mingle with prisoners in order to escape justice. They would have to wait until the doctors were finished with the wounded, and then they'd receive complete medical checkups. Lastly, they'd be assigned to visitor's quarters in a secure area aboard ship. Before returning to her other duties, Jenetta called the Chiron bridge and asked for the loan of the ship's psychologist to help with the former captives, especially the women. The Prometheus' psychologist wouldn't be able to handle the large group alone.

Jenetta's first task, after finishing with the captives, was to find the base's data center. Using Major Visconti's map she set off with the squad of Marines to track it down. A large metal waste basket, containing partially melted data rings, record wafers, and high-capacity storage rods, was still smoldering on the deck when they located the center, and she knew they were too late, but Jenetta grabbed a portable Alonn Gas canister mounted on the wall and smothered the fire completely. She felt sure that the systems people would have difficulty getting anything useful from the base's computer. All internal storage must have been erased before the commandant surrendered.

Before returning to the warehouse level, Jenetta and the Marines stopped by the detention center to pick up all the restraints that had been left there. The senior Raider personnel would object to having the restraints put on them, but they had little say in the matter. Once the collars were locked on, Jenetta knew they wouldn't pose any discipline problem. With the press of one little button on the controller they would be writhing on the floor in agony. That was how the Raiders controlled their slaves. The restraint sets left after the senior people were outfitted would be used on the burliest of the rest.