By that, I understood that she did not mean arach.
“No.”
Point taken.
I made my way back along the building towards its rear. It was odd that a processing center would not be right on the river, but one building back where the catch would be harder to deliver—very odd that a human style dwelling would be set with such broad verandas overlooking the water. That was more akin to a resort, than anything else. Perhaps there was a swimming pool on the other side where I couldn’t see it.
“No, but there might be one inside.”
Well, that answered that, then.
Not wanting to go through the front door, if I could help it, I moved my way back along the warehouse, looking for another entrance. If there were human-style buildings in the settlement, it wasn’t unreasonable to assume there might be human-style exits in them. It also wasn’t unreasonable to assume that the weavers knew the humans were present, and had allowed it.
What if both species had been relying on the vespis not checking on everyone—or not recognizing a human structure when they saw one, or even accepting some bullshit explanation for one? What if these weavers had allowed the wrong kind of human to come into their settlement, and what I was looking at was something that didn’t support a fishing village at all? What if, in fact, the real weaver fishing village was a bit further downstream, and just lent workers to the humans running this place so everything looked...
I found a door.
I stopped running through the possibilities, vaguely aware T’Kit had been privy to everything in my head, and was slightly bemused by it. She could be as bemused as she wanted, but I knew humans. They were assholes. They’d sneak their way in anywhere they thought they could make a profit, and go corrupting whatever native species they thought was useful, in order to get it.
The door wasn’t locked.
I checked it for booby traps, alarms, and a computerized system—and found none. So, no remote unlocking for me. Maybe it was never locked. I crept up to it, and listened carefully. When I was pretty sure there was no one moving around inside, I moved up the single concrete step, and turned the handle.
The door opened inwards, and I pushed it carefully wider. I entered slowly, listening as I went, looking for strands of web that would warn me the arach had been here, or were coming back, straining my ears for a tell-tale hiss. I even sniffed the air, wishing T’Kit was here to lend me her vespis senses. That way we’d know, for sure, whether the arach had ever been here.
The door opened onto a narrow corridor. The first door to the left led to a room that had a bench and sinks on one side, and four cubicles on the other. A toilet block that looked all-too-human to me. The wall at the far end of the room held a dispenser for various hygienic necessities. I stopped.
Nothing moved in here, but I wished the place was sophisticated enough for a security system. That way I could have at least gotten a layout, and scanned it.
Man up, I told myself. It’s not like you haven’t gone low-tech, before.
The door to the right opened into a small dining and kitchen area. It, too, was empty—and windowless… That was strange. I pulled that door closed, as well, and moved down to an intersection in the corridor. There was space on either side of me for rooms, but no entry. I placed my hand on the wall to my left, and felt a faint vibration running through it.
On a ship, I would have said it was an engine room, or something. Down here? No idea.
I stepped carefully to where the corridor intersected another, and stopped, again. There was a single door on the nearest wall in the corridor to the right, but two doors in the one to the left… and another door leading outside at the end. And there were doors on the other side of the corridor, too. I was beginning to get a bad feeling about this place.
“Me, too,” T’Kit said. “Is there anyone in there?”
“No movement. No sound,” I said, and slipped quietly around the corner to the left.
The wall continued to vibrate, and I realized this was probably the cold room. Still, it didn’t hurt to be sure. I moved quickly down to the door. It wasn’t locked. Closed, yes, but not locked. Whoever was operating here, they felt very, very safe.
A light came on inside the room, the minute I opened the door, which was handy. The walls were lined with shelves, and boxes bearing the picture of something fishy. The boxes filled two central racks that formed three corridors coming off a single walk way at the top. I could see that the rack nearest me touched the rear wall, and figured that each passage was a dead end.
Made sense.
Cold air swirled around me, and I guessed the vibration I’d felt came from the refrigeration plant. There were a series of vents in the center of the ceiling, indicating the cooling unit was in the roof, which was why I hadn’t seen it outside. The only problem was that I couldn’t see what was down the furthermost aisles, so I couldn’t be sure no-one was hiding in here—and I was afraid of being locked in, if someone came in from outside.
I didn’t want to go in, but I had to.
I had to be sure.
I took a quick look in both directions, and then stepped in far enough that I could stop the door from closing properly while I grabbed a box off the nearest shelf. When I’d wedged it in the doorway, I hustled the short length of corridor between the shelves, peering down each aisle of shelves.
Of course, the room was empty.
I made it back to the door without any trouble, and put the box back on the shelf, before heading back
