Staring at the massive labyrinth of containers stretching several stories high and several miles deep, she could believe it.
It was like that old game of Tetris.Cargo containers stacked one on top of the other in a hodgepodge attempt to maximize space.
The organizational skills required to manage something of this magnitude were mind boggling.
Over the towering stacks, Kira could see a crane meant to lift containers to the upper floors that connected to the rest via short flights of metal stairs.
No wonder Titan was known for piracy.
All they had to do was claim a shipment had gotten lost or misplaced.Who would be able to argue in the face of all this?
“Spread out,” Graydon ordered his oshota.
Amila and Isla glided to their right, disappearing down a row as Solal headed up the stairs to the next floor.
Kira took the squirrel Jin had given her out of her pocket and tapped it on the top of its head.“Time to wake up.”
The squirrel opened jewel colored eyes to blink sleepily up at her.
“Where to?”she asked.
The squirrel straightened.After a short second, it tipped its nose toward a row of containers directly ahead.
Kira walked forward.“I guess we’re playing follow-the-leader.”
Graydon followed.
With the squirrel acting as their navigator, they moved deeper into the labyrinth of containers.Many they passed had been beaten all to hell, their color faded and worn from decades of use.Rust spots had invaded the metal in some places.Some were covered in so many layers of graffiti that you couldn’t tell what color they started life as.
“Do humans always leave artwork on any surface they can find?”Graydon asked, studying the silhouette of a blonde woman wearing tight fitting clothing, her chest and ass thrust out suggestively, her jaw covered in the shadow of a beard.
The style of graffiti was an older one.Done to resemble tattoos from old earth when people still sailed the oceans and used maps that said, “here be monsters”.
“More often than not, yes.”
Kira stopped and tilted her head back to examine another piece of graffiti.A torpedo wearing a top hat and mustache.It belonged to a gang out of O’Riley.
“There are cave drawings that go back over 100,000 years,” Kira said.
From the very beginning of their existence, humans had used whatever tools at their disposal to depict their perception of the world.Even at a time when survival was in no way guaranteed, there were some driven to leave their mark.
Art may have grown more complex and elaborate since the days of using colored mud or dye derived from berries to draw animals on cave walls, but the driving force behind it had never changed.There was an innate desire to express themselves embedded in humanity’s psyche.
“Let’s keep going,” Kira said, moving on.
Some of the containers they passed looked brand new.A quiet hum suggesting the presence of built in generators.Those containers, Kira suspected, were being used to transport live cargo.Livestock or plants.
Or humans.
They traveled deeper into the shipyard.Until the good natured shouts from the dock workers could no longer be heard.The beep of forklifts faded.As did the clank of containers as they were moved from place to place.
“This is a good place for an ambush,” Kira observed, noting the surplus of shadowy recesses that were perfect for launching a surprise attack.
“My thoughts as well,coli,” Graydon purred.
The crazy man looked like that was exactly what he was waiting for.
“Whatever you’re thinking—no,” Kira said with a mental groan.
