Page 67 of Tempting Jupiter
No answer.
His heartbeat quickened and whooshed loudly in his ears. “Alfred, tell her I’m not going away until she answers.”
“The captain is in the pilot’s station. Would you like me to ask her to join you in her room?”
“How the Hell did she get there?” Unless she’d gone there in the middle of the sleep cycle.
“She used the captain’s cabin level passage.”
Seneca spun on his heel, studying each of the closed doors along the corridors. He’d assumed they were storage. Heat crept up the back of his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. He jerked open the most logical door and found a narrow hall with several more doors. His ears flicked. He could hear her. Her voice drifted up from an open hatch in the floor at the opposite end of the hall.
He stalked toward her voice, ears forward and alert.
“This is just what I needed. Thanks for coming through for me, Gulliver.” The cheer in Feeona’s voice sounded forced.
“It was the least I could do. Only the second time you’ve ever asked for anything and the first time I had to turn you down.” The male voice rasped with age and vice. “Glad you found another way.”
Who was he and what had he done for Feeona?
“I have to go, Gulliver.” The level of strain had multiplied.
The man began to speak, but his voice was cut off before he’d formed his next word. Seneca could hear her making manual entries at her controls then footsteps.
The hatch was plenty wide, so he ignored the ladder and dropped down through the opening with a loud thud. Once down, he realized why he hadn’t noticed the hatch previously. Its ladder was tucked into a nook in the corner. It wouldn’t be visible from anywhere in the room.
“Seneca?” Feeona appeared in front of him, eyes wide. “Everything, okay?”
Frustration, suspicion and worry warred inside of him. It escaped his throat as a growl.
She put her open palm over his heart. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. There is nothing going on here to worry you.”
Her placating only added fuel to his volatile emotions and somehow the fatigue-darkened skin beneath her eyes deepened his anger. He had to talk through the rumble in his chest. “Who were you talking to?”
She turned and walked back to her control panel. “An old friend that I trust. Since Roma has people looking for us everywhere, I had to go through him to get a few things we’re going to need. Starting with the engineering plan to Morgan’s ship. I found out where it was built and tracked down one of the crew chiefs that worked on it, but I needed Gulliver to bargain for the plans.”
She tapped a button and diagrams appeared on several screens.
Seneca could identify patterns that might be the outlines of rooms and corridors, but there seemed to be layer upon layer and swarms of symbols he didn’t recognize. “This is where they’re holding Jupiter?”
“Mmm.” Feeona made the small sound as she flicked through different views of the ship’s layout. “Here. This is the holding area.”
He directed his gaze where she pointed. It was… He had no idea what he was looking at. “Show me.”
She zoomed the picture to show just the area she wanted then traced a line around the screen with her finger. “This is the outer bulkhead for this section. It’s thick. Too thick to cut through safely.” She moved her finger to trace smaller sections within the larger one. “These are cells. It looks like they’re configurable. He can change them around to suit his needs. Complex system, but I guess he can afford top of the line.” There was no liveliness in her voice now—neither real nor forced. Only grim determination and exhaustion.
“How will we know which of these cells will be used to house Jupiter?” There were so many. So many cells. So many souls sold into slavery.
“We won’t.” She rubbed at her temple. “When we get on board, Bug could track him down, but that would take time and would mean we’d have to walk in there without the details nailed down. We’ll have to free him when he’s on display for the auction.” She wrapped her arms around her body. “It would be a hell of a lot better if we could get him out before Roma arrives.”
“You believe they’ll send a large force to transport him back to Roma?” Seneca considered what little he knew of their owner, Grand Owens. “Or do you think he will send hunters to capture me as well?”
She grimaced. “We’d better assume they’ll do both.”
The bleakness in her voice darkened his vision with anger. Had she ever truly believed they could do this? “We can’t fail.”
“We won’t.” She sighed then dropped her arms and straightened. “I know it might not sound like it, but I am good at this. Really good.”
“You’d better be.” Seneca squeezed his fists against his need to shake her.
