The Clones of Mawcett (38 page)

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Authors: Thomas DePrima

BOOK: The Clones of Mawcett
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With her main objectives completed there was little that Jenetta could do except wait. The three-kilometer wide by one kilometer deep habitat area, with its eighteen levels, was the size of a small city, so it would take hours for the hundreds of Marines assigned to search the base, to complete their task. Jenetta would just have to stand by until that was done.
The_Clones_of_Mawcett
Chapter Eighteen
~ October 9th, 2270 ~
“The habitat search turned up forty-six Raiders who were trying to hide in the bowels of the station,” Major Visconti reported to Jenetta. “The ones that survived their resistance when discovered have been put in with the rest of the prisoners to await more secure quarters.”
“Excellent work, Major,” Jenetta said. “Did we lose any of our people?”
“Our battle armor prevented serious injuries or death from the light weapons the Raiders holdouts had, but we suffered some minor injuries. A few of my people have already returned to duty, and the medics say the rest will all recover fully within a few weeks.”
Jenetta nodded. "I'm glad the injuries were light. We'd better concentrate on getting the rest of the Raiders locked up; we can't just leave them sitting on the floor in the cargo area. Unfortunately, we don't have secure quarters available for such a large prisoner population, so we'll have to prepare something. Now that the Marines assigned to the search are available for other duties, I'd like to use them to clear out one of the large warehouses on this deck. Like the hold of a ship, each warehouse only has a couple of doors, and the prisoners can all be contained more easily there.
“Aye, Commander. Just tell me which warehouse you'd like emptied.”
After a quick look at the station's plans, Jenetta selected a large warehouse that seemed to meet their immediate need.
“If you have people experienced in using cargo handling equipment, we can take everything from the warehouse and stack it here in this road,” Jenetta said, pointing to one of the enormously wide aisles that ran the length of the habitat on that level. “Once the warehouse is empty, we'll secure the emergency exit doors and move all male Raiders not outfitted with restraints, into their new quarters. Your Marine guards will be able to watch them from the ten-meter high catwalk that extends around the entire warehouse interior.” Pointing to a smaller warehouse next to the first, Jenetta said, “This other warehouse should be cleared for the women prisoners. Have the station leaders taken down to the detention center and house them in separate cells. There will be less trouble with the leaders isolated from the rest of the prisoner population.”
“Aye, Commander,” Major Visconti said.
“Carry on, Major.”
Major Visconti turned and immediately called his officers together, outlining the plan and issuing assignments. Within ten minutes, the prisoners designated for the detention center were herded away, and huge cargo handling robots, controlled remotely by Marine operators, were engaged in clearing the designated warehouses.
It took several hours for the small army of bots to clear the two warehouses of their contents. The piles of crates that had been moved out into the roadway weren't very orderly because some of the bot operators were a bit inexperienced, but that was of little importance. Once the prisoners were herded into their new, temporary quarters, and the doors were locked, everyone breathed a little easier. Only three or four Marines would be required on the catwalk in each warehouse now, instead of the three dozen being employed to keep the prisoners 'contained' in the open cargo area.
Jenetta's next task was to get the kitchen operating. They would have to feed the seventeen hundred Raider prisoners three times a day, not to mention the four hundred plus Marines. Major Visconti recruited temporary cooks and kitchen attendants from among his weary Marine force and Jenetta had them prepare a meal for the prisoners and their fellow Marines. There were plenty of foodstuffs and supplies, and the first meal turned out fairly edible. The prisoners were given plenty of food, and crates of fresh fruit were placed in the warehouse confinement area so they could help themselves if they felt hungry. Casks of water were also placed in each of the warehouse lockups. The biggest problem was toilet facilities, but the Raiders would have to get by with tubs, buckets, and basins for the near term.
It took five days of intensive effort for the fleet to complete just their emergency repairs, but most ships were once again fully pressurized. The severe damage to the Chiron would take several more days, but that part of the ship was sealed off and there was no danger to the crew. Searchers found almost a thousand men trapped in the damaged Raider ships, and without any other place to put them, they brought them to the space station prison warehouse. Jenetta found herself cast in the role of a warden, supervising an enormous prisoner population living in excessively cramped quarters with totally inadequate toilet facilities. It was only possible to control them because a large quantity of the electronic restraints had been found. There weren't enough for everyone, but they were placed on any prisoner that got involved in a fight. As soon as a fight broke out, the prisoners wearing the restraints immediately dropped to the floor. Any left standing were zapped with a level two shock that rattled their teeth and left them writhing on the floor for several minutes. Prisoners not wearing restraints were shot by one of the Marines on the catwalk with a stun rifle, and left to nap off the effect of the shot wherever they fell. It usually lasted between four and six hour hours. While unconscious, the prisoner would be outfitted with Raider restraints.
As the ship's engineers were freed from emergency repair work, Jenetta was able to borrow some to work at the new prison. Four more warehouses, three for the men and one for the women, were cleared of cargo and prepared to more properly accommodate prisoners. The new dormitories, each hastily rigged with shower and toilet facilities, and capable of housing eight-hundred prisoners, were available in a few more days. Once the thin, gravity-shielding cloth, like that used in gel-comfort mattresses, was rolled out on the deck for sleeping, the prison dormitories were ready to occupy. The sleeper would be suspended a dozen centimeters above the cloth, until the normal gravity field from the gravity-deck plating curved over the cloth and again took hold of the sleeper, keeping them from floating too high.
For the prisoners, it was like moving from a flea-bag hotel room to a luxury suite.  From the catwalk in the respective warehouse, Jenetta addressed each group as soon as their move was completed. She informed them that anyone involved in a fight, or observed damaging the equipment or facilities, would find themselves back in the first warehouse without beds, toilets, or showers. If that wasn't enough to subdue most of them, the restraints would. As soon as Jenetta left, most lined up for their first hot shower since the Boshdyte had opened the doors to the asteroid.
Jenetta had to practically beg for people to fill critical positions as she tried to organize the rest of the station. She needed engineers to maintain the power systems, and since the destruction of the computer files had wiped out all the inventory records, she needed hundreds of clerks and laborers to begin the onerous task of sorting out the cargo found in the warehouses. She also needed regular cooks and mess hall people to replace the temporary Marine personnel that had been doing the job. The food was passable, but every meal had strangely started to taste the same. Jenetta had found it surprisingly difficult at one meal to taste the difference between the Meatloaf Italiano and the Tuna Noodle Casserole. Fortunately, laundry services were fully automated, so only a few people were required to monitor the equipment and bots as clean clothes were provided for three thousand prisoners and guards.
Jenetta began her days at 0600 and rarely returned to her quarters aboard the Prometheus before midnight.
Two weeks after being sent to take control of the space station, Jenetta had her first official visitors. Following a tour of the station, Captains Gavin and Kanes returned with Jenetta to the commandant's office that she had taken over for her use. The large, three-dimensional SimWindow behind her desk was playing a historical vid of the Gatun Locks at the Panama Canal. The bright blue sky was the color of Jenetta's azure eyes, and you could almost smell the wildflowers that were in full bloom in the old Canal Zone. The century old springtime scene made you want to rush outside to watch the huge seagoing ships as they passed through the locks.
Dozens of different vistas from Earth or other planets could be loaded from the SimWindow's memory core, with each image appearing so real that you'd swear you were really standing inside a building at that location. A real-time image of the cavern port outside the habitat was also available for viewing at any time. By using special cameras and sensors, the computer made it seem as if you were looking through a real window at the ships parked at the docking piers. The computer naturally enhanced the image to make it appear like a large, well illuminated warehouse instead of the airless, dimly lit cavern that it really was.
After preparing mugs of coffee at the beverage synthesizer in Jenetta's office, the three officers sat down to talk.
“It looks like you have everything under control here, Jen,” Gavin said.
“Yes sir, we've stabilized things here, for now, but I know that it's not a long-term solution. You can't keep hundreds of prisoners permanently housed in one large room, and we have four such rooms. They're still getting over the shock of losing their space station and their freedom, but that won't last. We've kept them clean and well fed, so they're calm right now, but boredom is going to cause problems in the future. And I'm sure that most are planning escape attempts. We have to constantly be on alert.”
“Yes, I know. Still, you've done a fantastic job here and I appreciate it. Captain Kanes' people will be in to help, beginning tomorrow. They've stayed out of the way so you could lock down the station and get things organized, but now that you're firmly in control they want to start interrogating the prisoners.”
“We'll start with the ones that you have in the detention center,” Kanes said. “They'll have the most information and are likely to be the ones most interested in cutting a deal since they'll face the most serious charges.”
“Yes sir. I've kept them isolated since the first day. I've ordered the guards not to talk to them or even respond to questions. That should have loosened them up a bit and made them ripe for a little conversation.” Smiling, she added, “I understand that several started off demanding to see me, and are now politely requesting to see me. I haven't gone down there yet.”
Kanes smiled and nodded. Space Command rules forbid the torture of prisoners, psychological as well as physical, but they were still operating under battlefield conditions here so a little discomfort or inattention was excusable, and could be used to advantage.
“Jen,” Gavin said, “you should know that Commander LaSalle has been found. Apparently the escape pod malfunctioned and ejected just a fraction of a second before the ship impacted against the doors of the asteroid. The main rocket on the pod fired, but then pieces of the Boshdyte, or perhaps chunks of the port doors blown off in the explosion, struck the pod. I suppose it was a miracle that the pod walls weren't penetrated. As it was, the maneuvering thrusters failed to operate, leaving her with no way to correct and stabilize. Everyone was so busy with the battle, and then with repairs, that she wasn't found until this morning. The Tsgardi don't use gravity plating in their pods, and I'm afraid that the days of constant tumbling have unbalanced her mind. When she was rescued, she was screaming your name.”
“My name, sir?”
“Yes. Apparently she blames you for what happened to her. She keeps screaming ”Carver, you did this to me,“ over and over. The doctors tell me she can't possibly return to her post on the Prometheus. She'll be taken to a GSC psychiatric hospital for evaluation and treatment.”
Jenetta had been too busy to think about LaSalle since the battle began. The thought occurred to Jenetta now that she might have been the one spinning and rolling off into space if LaSalle hadn't tried to prevent her from gaining any more recognition and increased prestige in the eyes of the captain.
“As you once told me, sir, she was a good officer. Her sacrifice won't be forgotten.”
“I've recommended her for a commendation. You'll take over as acting first officer when you return to the ship, until her replacement arrives.”
“Yes sir. When will I be returning?”
“Although the Prometheus' most serious wounds will be repaired within a couple of weeks, we could be here for months while lesser repairs are completed. Space Command Supreme Headquarters has decided to occupy this station and has designated it as an official base because it's closer to the Frontier Zone than any other base within three hundred light-years. You've been named as the interim Base Commander until a permanent administrator arrives.”

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