“Ravana!” exclaimed her father. His distinctive Australian drawl sliced through the murmurs of those around him. “Who have you brought back with you?”
The Maharani stepped out of the personnel carrier as he spoke. A faint tinkle of jewellery accompanied her; she was liberally decked in a number of gold bangles and had completed her outfit with a chain headpiece displaying a red stone in the centre of her forehead. She moved with a grace that was the antithesis of the usual bounding walk most people adopted in the low pseudo-gravity of the hollow moon, then turned and took small but purposeful steps towards where Ravana and her father stood. The Maharani was flanked by two female attendants who were also dressed in sarees, albeit of a plainer design. As Fenris himself stepped forward, the Maharani put out a hand to stop him, making it clear he was not wanted. Her gaze had not once left that of Ravana’s father.
The Maharani was beautiful. Ravana looked into her heart-shaped features, at her dark eyes and glowing caramel skin framed by a cascade of jet-black hair, then turned her gaze to the floor, her hand moving to touch the scar upon her own face. Her father put an arm around Ravana’s waist and gave her a comforting squeeze. She glanced up into his eyes and noticed with surprise that he was regarding the Maharani with an expression that was unexpectedly cold and unwelcoming.
“Well, well,” her father said, his tone sarcastic. “If it isn’t Maharani Uma, the mighty exiled drama queen of Yuanshi herself.”
The Maharani met his stare calmly, unabashed.
“We meet again, my dear Quirinus,” she purred, her voice laden with silken tones. “As before, I regret it is an act of war that has caused our paths to cross.”
“War?” Quirinus snorted in disbelief. “Here on the Dandridge Cole?”
“Indeed,” replied the Maharani. “And once again, I need your help.”
Chapter Two
The Eden Ravines
BELLONA STARED out of the window of the skybus at the bleak landscape flashing by. The endless grey desert was not much to look at, especially in the dim red light of Barnard’s Star, but it was good to get out of Newbrum’s dome. Her best friend Philyra sat next to her, idly flicking through the latest celebrity gossip holovid on her wristpad. To look at they were nothing alike, yet plump ebony Bellona often thought of herself and pale skinny Philyra as sisters; they were both tall and dark-haired, they studied the same subjects at school and both liked the industrial robopop bands that were the latest sensation coming out of Alpha Centauri. On the other hand, Bellona had tried and failed to understand Philyra’s fascination with the gossip holovids, particularly her current addiction to the long-running game show Gods of Avalon, which featured a host of minor celebrities fighting to survive on a forest moon where robotic mythical beasts, android deities and even the terraformed climate were controlled by a surprisingly sadistic audience vote.
On the seat opposite sat Endymion, a tall and scrawny youth who wore a permanent lazy smile on his face. He was Bellona’s brother and at eighteen Terran years a full three years older than his sister and her friend, who nonetheless both agreed that he often acted more like a four-year-old. Like the girls, he wore a one-piece light blue flight suit that was the school uniform, all of which bore the Commonwealth Space Agency ensign for Ascension on the shoulder: a small brown planet against a large red sun with the national flag of the United Kingdom in the corner. In a rebellious mood he had undone the top half of the one-piece and tied the empty sleeves around his waist, revealing the fibre-optic tunic he wore beneath. Bellona and Philyra had limited their own personal touches to the non-uniform wide silver belts worn tight around their waists, though both had also taken more care than usual to pile on the make-up and antigrav hair lacquer.
The fourth member of their party was Miss Clymene, a portly and slightly eccentric Scottish woman who ruled the class with a firm but fair hand. It was said by her ex-students that she could be both your best friend and your worst enemy; more often than not at the same time. At the moment she was at her most relaxed, sitting calmly across the central aisle opposite Endymion. Miss Clymene was dressed as always in riotous assembly in red, complete with a scarlet beret wedged upon her head to keep her tousled grey locks in check. As Bellona glanced towards her teacher, Miss Clymene looked down at the small touch-screen computer terminal upon her lap and smiled.
“Nearly there!” she exclaimed, putting the slate away. “All excited, are we?”
“Whoopee,” muttered Endymion, staring at the floor.
Bellona gave him a kick. His tunic momentarily flickered, the graphic of polonium rock band Butt moving a little then stopping before the tunic’s resonator could play a segment of their song Smell My Gas.
“Is he on egg?” remarked Miss Clymene, looking at Endymion carefully. She was referring to the latest mood-enhancing drug out of Epsilon Eridani.
Bellona laughed. “No, he’s always like that.”
“Aren’t you glad to get out of the city?” Philyra asked him.
“This is a school trip,” he retorted. “It’s not the same. I’m not even in the same class as you and Bellona.”
“On the contrary, during the run-up to the band competition you are most definitely part of my class,” Miss Clymene said firmly, her voice slightly scolding. “You know the rules. We rehearse together; we study together. It is a shame there’s only you three at the academy who actually have any musical talent, but that’s the way it is.”
“There’s only twelve people in the whole school,” Philyra pointed out.
“Newbrum’s starting to look like a ghost town,” her teacher agreed, though school numbers had also suffered due to the big corporations setting up their own private schools. “The Clarke family shipped out to Tau Ceti last month. The Robinsons too are talking of going back to the Solar System to work on a terraforming project on Mars. There won’t be any proper families left on Ascension at this rate!”
“My dad says there’s no jobs,” mumbled Endymion. His and Bellona’s parents, both top-class aerospace engineers, had emigrated from Nigeria to the Barnard’s Star system before he was born and were now starting to regret it. “Not unless you want to work at the hydrogen works or the spacecraft breaking yards.”
“Not me,” retorted Philyra. Her own Ascension-born parents were descended from the English settlers who had helped to found Newbrum. “When I leave school I’m going to catch the first ship to Alpha Centauri and get a job at the holovid studios on Avalon. They say they’re always looking for new talent.”
“Do they indeed,” Miss Clymene murmured.
“Perhaps we could leave you on Daode,” suggested Bellona, teasing her.
Philyra shook her head, horrified. “Why is the band competition there, of all places? Isn’t there war in Epsilon Eridani, or something?”
“Not on Daode,” Miss Clymene reassured her. “I have been through this several times. We have been invited to represent Newbrum in the school band competition at the peace conference on Daode. There will be bands from all across the five systems, plus of course all the politicians and officials who are coming together to try and bring peace to the region.”
“So there is a war?”
“On Yuanshi,” her teacher confirmed. “Not Daode. Different moon entirely.”
“The Avalon holovid news teams will be there,” Bellona reminded Philyra, who immediately brightened. Endymion was somewhat more lacking in enthusiasm.
“We’ve got no chance of winning, have we?” he grunted. “Just the three of us?”
“The band may be small but it’s perfectly formed,” remarked Miss Clymene.
“We sounded awful at rehearsal this morning,” Bellona said with a sigh. “I couldn’t stop my clarinet from squeaking. It sounded like a chicken trying to lay an emu egg.”
Philyra giggled. “Or a goose being plucked to death.”
“Bradbury Heights has a full orchestra,” muttered Endymion, referring to the academy that had become their traditional rival. The domed city
of Bradbury Heights was the second-largest colony on Ascension after Newbrum, with a far better locale north of the equatorial desert. “I hope we’re not sharing a shuttle with those egg heads.”
“I can see your brother is as excited about this competition as he is about today’s trip to the Ravines!” Miss Clymene remarked to Bellona. “Endymion, my dear, please don’t let your bubbling enthusiasm spoil it for everyone else.”
“That’s right!” exclaimed Bellona, giving him a prod. Nevertheless, the rehearsal earlier that morning had gone spectacularly badly and in her heart, she knew Endymion was probably right about their chances. “We’re on a field trip! This is better than sitting in a class doing astrophysics or Earth history, surely?”
Endymion shrugged. “I’ve been to the Eden Ravines before,” he grunted.
“Hopefully, this visit will be different,” said Miss Clymene. “I have it on good authority that a big meteor came down near the research station just this morning and it reminded me that a trip to the Ravines is part of your education. I thought it would be a good opportunity for you all to take a break from lessons and rehearsals.” She sounded as if she needed a break herself. She had spent days trying to secure them a flight to Daode to no avail.
Bellona glanced at her brother but Endymion still looked terminally bored. With a sigh, she looked out of the window once more. The bloated red sun that was Barnard’s Star hung almost directly overhead. The truncated shadow of the monorail track rushed by, wavering alongside them upon the desert sand, with the smaller shadow of the skybus itself above it. The pilot-less skybus flew on short stubby wings but was connected to the rail by a long telescopic arm, which served to transfer power from the rail to the four electric turbines that pushed the skybus through the thin atmosphere at speeds approaching five hundred kilometres per hour. The Eden Ravines nature reserve, the one and only certified natural wonder of the planet of Ascension, was obviously not as popular as the Newbrum tourist board would have people believe, for the four of them were the only people aboard. On the other hand, the population of Ascension was far from huge and it was not beyond the realms of possibility that, like Endymion, everyone else on the planet had already seen it.
“I didn’t know you’d been before,” Philyra remarked to Endymion, looking up from her wristpad. “When was that?”
“A couple of years ago. I worked at the labs on a science project.”
“That was community service,” Bellona reminded him. “Sweeping the floor does not count as a science project. I forgot you were sent to the Ravines.”
“Community service?” Philyra’s eyes went wide. “What was that for?”
Endymion muttered something and cast his eyes to the floor.
“He reprogrammed the kitchen AI unit at school to serve chocolate sauce instead of gravy,” Bellona told her. The academy’s industrial-sized food molecularisor featured what was supposed to be the latest thing in artificial culinary intelligence. She giggled. “It was days before anyone complained.”
“Or even noticed,” Miss Clymene added wryly. “The canteen’s desserts always did taste a bit too meaty for my liking. Much as I’d like to sit here and reminisce about young Endymion’s misdemeanours, our stop is approaching. Unless you want to stay on to Kirchel, I suggest you collect your things and get ready. Don’t forget your pack lunches!”
As she spoke, the skybus lurched slightly, then the high-pitched whine of the turbines slid into a gentle decrescendo as the vehicle began to lose speed and drop towards the rail below. Moments later, there was a solid clunk as the telescopic arm pulled the skybus down onto the monorail trolley. They were no longer flying.
Outside the window the desert stretched to the horizon, yet ahead they could now see a break in the endless grey monotony. Indeed, a break is exactly what it was, for here the monorail track passed close to the edge of a huge crack in the desert floor, which was just the start of a vast network of deep crevices that radiated for hundreds of kilometres across the surface of the planet and down through several kilometres of rock.
“We are now approaching Eden Ravines,” came the calm and measured voice of the automatic pilot. “Please mind the gap.”
“That’s a big gap,” muttered Bellona. The edge of the Ravines was close.
The skybus slid to a halt beside the barrel-shaped building of corrugated steel that served as the station. Clutching their emergency life-support masks, Philyra, Bellona, Endymion and Miss Clymene moved to the door and waited for the station’s airlock tube to extend and dock with the skybus. After what seemed an age, the airlock warning light switched from red to green. The door slid open a fraction, then jammed.
Miss Clymene sighed. “Does nothing on this planet work properly?”
She gave the door a kick, which responded with a horrible grinding noise and slid open a fraction. The four travellers bustled into the chamber before the door could change its mind. The airlock snapped shut at their heels and then shuddered in the blast of turbines as the skybus accelerated away from the retracting tube. Several anxious moments passed before the airlock tube jolted home with a metallic clang.
The exit door before them slid open and as one they hurried through into the reception room beyond. Bellona saw Miss Clymene glancing at the airlock maintenance log next to the door and shudder. The girl peered over her shoulder and saw the last entry was by an engineer she knew had returned to Earth three years ago.
“What’s up, miss?” asked Philyra. Their tutor wore a perturbed expression.
“Nothing to worry about,” said Miss Clymene, brightly. Bellona caught her glance. A lesson on the dangers of poorly-maintained airlocks on a planet with a mostly poisonous atmosphere was the last thing any of them wanted right now. “This way!”
The station was a single long hall with the airlock at one end and a second set of doors leading to a lift at the other. The curved walls and roof were punctuated by a series of small portholes through which little could be seen, though enough to suggest that the station was right on the edge of the ravine itself and even overhanging it a little at the far end. At various places upon the wall hung touch-sensitive electronic screens, of which just three were operational. One was running a holovid advertisement for a new production of the play Waiting for Goddard, showing an excerpt where two old women were arguing and pointing at something unseen in the sky. The remaining working screens flickered with a lazy silent slideshow of awestruck tourists walking through a dark forest, but the glass was so badly scratched it was difficult to make out details. Bellona touched the controls of the nearest screen but nothing happened. Realising she was alone, she looked up and saw Miss Clymene and the others waiting for her at the doors of the lift, which now stood open.
“Bellona!” exclaimed Miss Clymene. “Are you coming?”
Leaving the screen, Bellona skipped across the hall towards the lift. Miss Clymene handed her a hooded cloak of a dull grey colour, which when she took it turned out to be surprisingly heavy.
“Keep this safe,” her tutor told her. “If you hear a solar flare warning, put it on as quickly as you can and pull the hood tight.”
“What does the warning sound like?” asked Bellona.
“No idea!” replied Miss Clymene briskly. “I’m sure we’ll know it when we hear it.”
Bellona solemnly regarded the cloak in her hands as she and her fellow students were bustled into the lift. She knew that Newbrum dome and other buildings had radiation shields, for Barnard’s Star was not as stable as it looked, but it had never occurred to her that they would need to take extra precautions out here. Once they were all safely inside, Miss Clymene indicated to Endymion to press the button marked ‘down’.
Philyra screamed. Before Bellona knew what to expect, the lift dropped through the floor of the station and moments later they were hurtling down the rocky cliff towards the bottom of the ravine six kilometres below.
*
The subterranean landscape of the Eden Ravines was unlike anything Be
llona and Philyra had ever seen before. It was an eerie jungle of purple and black; a twisted confusion of trees and plants so strange to the human eye that their first reaction was one of fear. Tall black spires sheathed in velvet-like scales forced their way between fat stems sprouting huge circular leaves of indigo. Spiny fronds of purple erupted from the myriad of bushes and shrubs that clung to every available piece of ground and rocky ledge, the dark foliage punctuated with blobs of yellow and white which were tiny flowers and fruits. The cliff itself was covered in what looked like dark green moss but which was probably nothing of the kind. A thin cool mist hung in the air, glowing faintly pink in the sunlight filtering down into the ravine, adding a further sense of unreality to the scene. The weird vista was all the proof needed that Ascension was indeed an alien world.
The lift had travelled down the side of the cliff and come to a halt out in the open on the floor of the ravine. Seeing that there was nothing but open air on the other side of the doors, Bellona and Philyra instinctively put on their emergency life-support masks, their nervousness compounded when Endymion and Miss Clymene did not follow suit.
The lift doors opened. Bellona watched anxiously as her brother stepped out of the lift onto the floor of the ravine. Endymion took a few bounding paces, then stopped and slowly turned to face the occupants of the lift, his face twisted in terror. Suddenly, with a terrible choking cry, he fell to his knees, his hands up around his neck.
“Help me!” he cried, wheezing painfully. “I can’t breath!”
Bellona shrieked. Philyra looked on in horror, her hands clasped to her face mask.
Miss Clymene walked calmly out of the lift and approached Endymion, who was now writhing around the floor in convulsions. She too was not wearing her face mask, but contrary to Bellona’s and Philyra’s expectations she did not keel over to join Endymion on the ground.
“Get up, Endymion,” she said wearily. “You’re not fooling anyone. I can see now why you never get picked for the school’s theatre group. I’ve never seen such bad acting.”
Hollow Moon Page 4