Sentinel - Cyndi Friberg Page 0,20

arm, pressing her back against the building beside them. The spider-drone’s lights blinked off though it continued to hover in midair right in front of them. She started to ask what was wrong, but he signaled for her silence. Squinting into the dimness, Natalie could just make out four small vehicles. A team of bedraggled Sarronti youth was unloading the transports and carrying boxes and crates into a building through an oversized opening, like those found in a warehouse or a hangar.

“Is that Stireton?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He nodded then urged her toward the alley about twenty-five feet in front of them. She darted forward and ducked into the alley, staying as close to the building as possible. He didn’t speak until they reached a wider alley running behind the building. Even then he kept his voice low. “I was worried about this.”

“What’s going on?”

“Stireton manufactures and assembles shuttle and short-range spacecraft parts. During past conflicts, they were among the first to convert to making weapons and parts of warships.”

“What makes you think that’s what they’re doing now?” She huddled close to him, keeping her voice just as low as his.

Salvo found a less grimy space in the alley and opened the metal case across a ground. The spider-like drone perched on the edge of the case as if waiting for its next mission. Salvo crouched in front of the case and selected a slightly larger, disk-shaped drone. He made several adjustments to its instruments as he explained, “The rebels now control the military, and Malik ejected every Ayrontu officer so the Opposition Force no longer has access to munitions or highly weaponized ships. It only makes sense that they would want to change that.”

His hypothesis was logical, but it wasn’t proof. “Do you know what was in those boxes?”

He glanced at her as he straightened, the disk-drone resting on his palm. “Most had no label of any kind, which in itself is suspicious, but one was haphazardly blacked out. Enough of it was still visible for me to recognize the logo. It was the largest refiner of elorium crystals in this star system.”

He made it sound important, but she didn’t understand what he obviously knew. “What’s the implication of that?”

“Elorium crystals power our weapons and most of our warships. Nothing previously made at Stireton required them.”

She just nodded as he set the drone in motion. Was he investigating the mysterious activity out front or were they still looking for Dellia? Rather than ask, she watched carefully and tried to stay out of his way.

Salvo crept closer to the edge of the building, but he only checked to make sure no one had noticed them before he sent the drone flying skyward. The device examined several windows before finding one it was able to slide far enough to one side to allow it to glide inside.

If the drone were searching inside, it seemed likely that they were sticking to the original plan. Besides, what could two people do about the workhouse’s change in direction? That was definitely a job for the local authorities, or the military. She still wasn’t sure how everything worked when the military was also in charge of law enforcement.

Holding his arm at chest level, Salvo activated a holo-display, allowing them to observe the drone’s progress. It flew quickly, swooping down one corridor and then a steep stairway. It emerged in a large open room cluttered with multiple conveyer belts and robotic assembly arms. Dispersed through the robotic arms were Sarronti children and youths. Some worked in cooperation with the robots, others seemed to be competing. At first glance, it didn’t look that different from manufacturing facilities on Earth. Then she focused in on the workers.

“They’re required to work seventy-five percent of every day. Meals, relaxation or sleep must all transpire within the other twenty-five percent.”

She did a quick calculation. That meant they were working eighteen hour days, or the Sarronti equivalent. She was about to tell him how unacceptable she found that when the drone began scanning the workers. Remaining up near the ceiling, it focused in on one gaunt and grimy face after another. Each appeared more tragic than the one before, each more pathetic. Her heart ached and her lips began to tremble. How could anyone take advantage of others like this? Most of the workers were children, for God’s sake.

“How can the elite see this day after day and still sleep at night?” she whispered, stubbornly blinking back tears.

“It’s because they