Chapter 13

 A barely noticeable small tremor ran through the hull - the dock's grip drives started working, holding the shuttle for the entire flight. Like the anabiotic beds, the device was also called the dock. Somerset glanced out the window. In the rounded rectangle of glazing, the structures of the transport ship and the neighboring shuttle, which was also about to undock, were visible.

 Somewhere behind, a very muffled hum was heard, sounding in time with the new vibration - the chemical maneuvering engines started working, capable of only taking the shuttle away from the main ship to a distance where the main engines could safely turn on. Take it away at a walking speed or so - the supply of chemical fuel was meager.

 The picture in the window came to life - a farm and some block, shrouded in a white blanket fried by all sorts of radiation, began to move away.

 Somerset turned his head and looked ahead, into the compartment. Ahead, the displays of the pilots' instrument post were visible. It was sys.258 - another shuttle, not the one they took off on. The hijacked shuttles were not identical. However, the layout of the compartment with the airlocks and the visible post in this slightly heavier ship was very similar.

 - How much time until entry into the atmosphere? - Somerset said, looking into the peephole of the individual console.

 - Fifty minutes until the start of the entry maneuver, - sounded in the earpiece.

Then his own seat began to press on his back, and the compartment filled with a low hum that made any conversation impossible - the main engines started working - two pairs of ejectors, drawing their energy from as many as two "tubes" - that's what they called small-sized thermonuclear reactors. The shuttle was thus a two-tube one.

 The shuttle "revved up" for about a minute and a half at most - no more was needed. The orbital mechanics had to finish everything further - the shuttles, like the main ship, were already firmly seated in Earth orbit. It was possible to simply stand in a circle and wait for evacuation teams.

 Now all that was left was to sympathize with those who remained in the second line - waiting out the landing on Earth, being in the lower gateway was too much even for the reckless "Martians". Although it was necessary to sympathize in one thing and envy in another: Dolbin, Walter and Leita were here, on the same board. Whether to be happy about this or not, Somerset did not know.

 Dolbin's plan was not a figment of his imagination, but the idea of establishing strong and numerous connections with Earth failed. Not only did they manage to involve only a dozen more people in the conspiracy, but the new illegal information flow from Earth, judging by the statements of Walter and Leita, who understood this matter, turned into solid fakes. It was an old and proven method of counteraction - amateur designers of Martian transceivers had encountered exactly the same problem. It must be that some powerful artificial intelligence had gotten involved.

 Several of the people newly involved in the conspiracy showed ingenuity and made some efforts, as a result of which all four "ringleaders" ended up on the same board. Somerset would not have been particularly upset if this had failed and he had flown on another ship, but considering the efforts made by the people, he could not afford to act weak and refuse. Now they had to put into action the radical option - the very same, desperate one, with the seizure of control.

 - What's with the connection, commander? - Dolbin shouted.

 By that time, the engines had already stopped working, and silence reigned in the compartment. Silence, of course, compared to the period of active maneuver, since all these auxiliary units from ventilation to the idle systems of the reactor tubes worked not silently at all.

 - Communications are in order, we will be met, - a cry was heard from the pilot's post.

 In general, according to all the instructions, the shuttle was controlled by two crew members, but this was constantly neglected. Another good form, or rather, a kind of sign of daring, was not to fasten the seatbelts completely, but to fix only the legs with the appropriate belts. This was wrong, but they did it all the time in orbit. Now, however, a rather tough maneuver of entering the dense earth's atmosphere was ahead, so such showing off was completely unnecessary. That is why even before the "dedoking" began, someone called out to the pilot, reminding him about the belts. On Mars, unlike the prim pilots and other crews of Earth, they were not used to being affected and communicated quite simply. There was one large enterprise there. It was a pity that it had gone down a dubious path. Somerset wasn't thinking about the strange behavior of the Earthlings at the moment.

 Their whole confrontation and crisis were also strange, causing a depressing impression, so fundamentally nothing changed here.

 - Where are we landing? - Dolbin did not calm down.

 - Kennedy Rocket Field. Nevada.

 - Did Earth tell you or did you choose it yourself?

 - Of course, Earth. This is Earth. Have you gotten out of the habit? They don't land just anywhere here.

 - Really? And I thought you'd take us straight to our cities, - Dolbin laughed.

 - The pilot didn't answer.

 Somerset glanced towards Dolbin. He was sitting on the right, next to Walter, who was holding his computer in his hands. Leyta was sitting in his, Somerset's left row, closer to the control post.

 - Well, guys, if you succeed, I'll be surprised for a long time, - thought Somerset, however, at that moment he was already completely convinced of their arguments. Along the starboard side of the compartment, spots of bright sunlight slowly floated. The sunlight was inspiring - although it was transatmospheric, it was already terrestrial sunlight - on Mars the light was noticeably dimmer.