Hollow Moon

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Hollow Moon Page 30

by Steph Bennion


  “The hell you will,” retorted Quirinus, causing both Ravana and Ostara to look at him in surprise. “If I’ve learned anything on this trip, it’s that friends look out for each other. I’m setting the final course corrections now and we’ll be with you in an hour or so.”

  “Your friends certainly made their mark. The young girl’s news report on the conference is all over the net!” said Wak, managing a brief smile. He waved a subdued farewell with his hastily-repaired artificial hand. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  The screen went blank. With a deep sigh, Quirinus tapped in a new set of coordinates into the flight computer, checked the revised flight path on the console navigation screen, then wearily leaned back into his seat.

  “Everyone’s gone?” asked Ostara, sounding dubious. “Can that really be true?”

  “Wak can be a little melodramatic at times,” said Quirinus dismissively.

  “I hope my mother’s okay,” Surya murmured anxiously. “Can I call her?”

  Quirinus shrugged and waved towards the holovid console. Surya was surprised to find that the unit already held the Maharani’s private contact details at the palace but said nothing. However, when he tried to establish a connection there was no reply.

  “Your mother would be first in line if it came to abandoning ship,” Quirinus told him, sounding bitter. “I’m sure she’s perfectly safe.”

  Seeing Surya’s downcast frown, Ostara put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

  “You’re very grouchy,” she said to Quirinus. “What’s wrong?”

  “After all we’ve been through I was looking forward to getting back to a normal life,” he replied. His face revealed his concern. “Or as normal as living in a hollow asteroid can be. The Dandridge Cole’s systems should not have failed like that.” He looked across to where Ravana was busy at the console. “Have you found that ship behind us?”

  “Not yet,” she replied, then gave him a sly look. “The auxiliary scanner systems are not very user-friendly. How about if I use my implant to talk directly to the AI?”

  “Can you do that?” asked Ostara, surprised.

  Quirinus gave Ravana a stern look. “You’ve been talking to the ship,” he accused her. “Do you really want to link the Platypus to that thing in your head?”

  “Do you mean the same ‘thing’ that got us into Sumitra so we could rescue you?” asked Ravana. “I don’t particularly like the idea of having an alien lump of hardware in my skull, but now I know it’s there I may as well learn to make the most of it.”

  Quirinus sighed, then pressed a switch on the console. “Ship! Can you enable the cranium implant interface? Restrict access to Ravana only.”

  “A pleasure to be of service,” the ship replied. “Military special-services implant detected and interface calibrated to optimum settings. Ravana, welcome to my mind.”

  Ravana became aware of a new image in her thoughts. The glowing purple symbol was hard to decipher at first, then she smiled as she realised what the exquisitely-rendered icon was meant to represent. In a way, it was the obvious choice.

  “Is that really a duck-billed platypus?” she asked the computer.

  “Available data suggested it was the most appropriate image,” the ship confirmed.

  “Happy now?” asked Quirinus.

  Ravana did not answer at first. Unable to resist, she mentally pressed the platypus-shaped symbol and watched with her mind’s eye as it changed colour to green and expanded to show a long, scrolling line of other symbols, each one representing a different onboard system. Yet behind all this was a hazy image of the Platypus itself, one created from a fine web of lines splaying like tree roots from a bright focus near the bow. Reaching out with her mind, Ravana felt the power of the ship quivering in every strand, from the pulsating brain of the AI unit to the distant tips of its rudders. Somehow, the Platypus felt alive.

  “It’s incredible!” murmured Ravana. “It feels so organic, as if the ship and I are one!”

  “Organic?” remarked Surya. “It’s just a machine!”

  Quirinus regarded her oddly. “The tendrils, perhaps?”

  “That must be it,” Ravana said dreamily. “Amazing!”

  “Is she okay?” asked Ostara, concerned. “She looks possessed.”

  “Perhaps I should deactivate the link again,” said Quirinus, looking perturbed. He reached over and gently shook her shoulder. “Ravana! Snap out of it! We have work to do.”

  Ravana caught her reflection in the windscreen and jolted of her reverie, startled by the expression upon her own face. It reminded her of when she had once been ill with a virus and hallucinating with a fever.

  “Sorry about that,” she apologised.

  Her father gave her an expectant look. Ravana remembered what she was supposed to be doing and using her implant selected the scanner array at the stern of the hull. As her father had noted, there was nothing on radar but she saw the optical scope had detected a moving object on a matching trajectory several thousand kilometres behind. She set the scope to maximum magnification and routed the output to the console screen.

  “That’s what Wak saw behind us,” she said at last. “I found it on long-range visual. It must be a stealth gunship not to show up on radar.”

  “Or an ex-military transport,” murmured Quirinus. He seemed impressed by what Ravana had done. The image on the screen showed an angular flying-wing spaceship that to all of them looked stupefying familiar. “That is almost certainly the Sun Wukong.”

  “What are they doing here?” asked Ostara.

  “More to the point, why are they ignoring Wak’s communications?” Quirinus asked. He checked a scanner reading again and then sat back, looking more puzzled than ever. “Their ship’s location beacon is switched off. Why would they hide from us?”

  “Shall I try to get them on the holovid?” asked Ravana.

  Quirinus nodded. Ravana called up the contact reference for the Sun Wukong and sent a call signal, then when there was no reply sent another, but the screen remained blank. Meanwhile, Surya experimented with his implant’s built-in communicator, but if Ganesa was on the other ship she was out of range. They both quickly admitted defeat.

  “Nothing,” said Ravana and sighed. “Equipment failure, perhaps?”

  “Perhaps,” mused Quirinus. Something was very odd indeed.

  *

  Space-traffic controllers in the Barnard’s Star system were far more laid-back than their Epsilon Eridani counterparts and the Platypus had been able to come out of extra-dimensional space a mere three hours away from the Dandridge Cole. The spinning asteroid was getting larger through the flight-deck windows, but behind them and closer still was the rapidly-approaching Sun Wukong, its crew still ignoring all transmissions.

  Quirinus and Ravana pushed this particular mystery to the back of their minds, preoccupied as they were with the manoeuvres needed for their final approach. The entrance to the hollow moon’s dock was a large rectangular airlock on the central axis, which like the rest of the asteroid spun at a stately one revolution per minute. The Platypus had to come in on a perfect trajectory and match this spin precisely if it was to make a successful landing.

  “Ravana? Surya? Can you hear me?”

  Ravana looked around the cabin, confused. The woman’s voice was familiar but there was only herself and her father on the flight deck.

  “Ship?” she called, hesitantly. “Was that you?”

  “Please clarify your query,” the AI intoned, inadvertently answering her question. Its voice was not the one she had heard.

  Quirinus looked up from the console. “Who are you speaking to?”

  “I thought I heard someone,” said Ravana, looking wary. “Didn’t you?”

  “First sign of madness, hearing voices in your head.”

  “Hello? Is there anybody out there?”

  “There it is again!” cried Ravana.

  Surya appeared at the hatch, excited and out of breath.

  “
Ganesa!” he exclaimed. “She’s trying to contact us via her implant!”

  “Oh my,” murmured Ravana. She located the headcom icon in her mind. She had forgotten to switch it off after their hasty departure from Ayodhya.

  “Finally!” gasped the voice in her head. “I can’t stay here much longer!”

  “Ganesa? Is that really you?” asked Ravana, astonished. “Where are you?”

  “Hiding in the toilet on the Sun Wukong!”

  “Yuck,” remarked Surya, pulling a face. “How gross.”

  “What’s worse is Hanuman dumps his dirty laundry in here and it smells as bad as the toilet itself,” replied Ganesa. “But you must listen! You are in grave danger!”

  “We’re nearly home!” Ravana protested. “What can possibly happen now?”

  “Fenris is here, holding a gun to Hanuman! He made us follow you back!”

  “Fenris!” Ravana hissed. “He’s hijacked the Sun Wukong!”

  Her father looked up in alarm. “What?”

  “Ganesa is hiding in the toilet,” Surya added, feeling he should say something.

  “This is too much,” muttered Quirinus. He pressed a switch to activate the ship’s intercom. “Ostara? Can you get up here?”

  Ostara was at the hatch almost immediately, relieved to have an excuse to leave the carousel. Having finished reading Sherlock Holmes, she had run out of things to talk about with Miss Clymene and the rest of the Newbrum band were dozing in the bunks.

  “Are we there yet?” she asked brightly.

  “We’ve got trouble,” Quirinus told her. “Fenris has taken over the Sun Wukong.”

  “Ganesa called us on her implant headcom,” Surya explained.

  “What does he want?” asked Ravana, speaking hurriedly to Ganesa. “Can we help?”

  “Fenris has gone crazy!” Ganesa wailed softly. “He’s put a b…”

  Ravana and Surya winced as Ganesa’s sharp scream sliced through their thoughts like a wayward laser-cutter and then just as abruptly cut off. As they sat staring at one another, wondering what had happened, the console holovid flickered into life. Recognising the incoming call-sign as that of the Sun Wukong, Quirinus hesitated a few moments and then touched the screen to accept the call.

  “Fenris,” he growled, as the man’s unpleasant leer appeared on the screen. Fenris sat in Ganesa’s usual seat, calmly pointing a plasma pistol at Hanuman, who was at the helm beside him. “You’re the one person I really did not mind leaving behind on Yuanshi. What have you done to Ganesa?”

  “Never mind her!” snapped Fenris. “Where is the Raja?”

  “I’m here,” declared Surya, moving into view. “What do you want, Fenris?”

  Fenris trembled slightly and the holovid screen revealed beads of sweat upon his brow. When he spoke again, his careful words were filled with the quiet desperation of a man who knew the consequences if he did not accomplish his mission.

  “My dear Raja,” he said slowly. “Taranis and Kartikeya were ready to give you the throne of Yuanshi, yet you cast them aside. It is not your fate to hide away like a rabbit in a hole. I beg you to accept your calling and return with me to Lanka.”

  “You tricked me!” exclaimed Surya. “Endymion found the brainwashing device at the conference. You wanted me as a phoney figurehead to use in your rebellion!”

  “Yes, I saw your friend’s broadcast,” Fenris growled. Next to him, Hanuman gave a wry grin. “You have every right to be angry. We have not treated you with the loyalty and respect that a future Maharaja deserves. Come back with me and Yuanshi will be yours!”

  “Put the gun down,” said Quirinus, his voice stern.

  “You are in no position to give orders,” retorted Fenris. He lifted his other hand to the holovid lenses and showed them the small device in his grip, his thumb poised over its single red button. “Indeed, you would be wise not to cross me at all.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” asked Quirinus.

  Without warning, the image on the screen flickered and they were suddenly confronted by the haggard and grotesque countenance of a man poised to give them nightmares. The face of the dark-clad figure was disfigured by metal skull plates, from which a tangle of tubes emerged to run down over the back of his seat. A haze hung in the air, partly obscuring the bubbling vats and laboratory equipment visible in the background. Of those watching from the flight deck of the Platypus, three of them instantly guessed the man’s identity. Quirinus, shocked at how time had taken its toll, knew without a doubt.

  “Taranis!” he exclaimed. “But how?”

  “Who gives him beauty tips?” Ostara muttered, her face curled in disgust.

  Ravana stared in horror at the gnarled figure on the screen. After all she had heard about the mysterious priest, she had been expecting a warrior-like firebrand preacher, not someone who looked like a crippled mad scientist. The priest pointedly ignored herself, her father and Ostara and instead fixed his steely gaze upon Surya.

  “Raja Surya,” Taranis declared, his tone cracked but strong. “I have been watching your progress for a while. You disappoint me, my prince.”

  “What do you want from me?” asked Surya, his voice wavering.

  “You speak as if afraid of what I offer,” Taranis remarked. “What I desire is for you to embrace your destiny! Your public spat with the fool Kartikeya is regrettable though not unexpected, for he is a man of limited vision. Great things are in store for you, but you must heed those who seek to guide you.”

  “That doesn’t really answer Surya’s question,” Ravana interjected.

  Taranis turned and looked at her coldly, not at all impressed by her interruption.

  “The girl who cried wolf,” he said. “Perhaps Fenris should have silenced you at the start. You are yet another who failed to heed their calling, my so-called Ravana.”

  Ravana looked startled. “How do you know my name?”

  Taranis ignored her. “Fenris will take you back to Lanka,” he instructed Surya. “The peace conference may not have ended the way we planned, but fate has decreed this encounter and fortuitously provided the means to depart this wretched asteroid. The time has come for our disciples to take the word of the greys across the five systems!”

  “I do not understand,” Surya protested weakly.

  “You’re not the only one,” mumbled Ostara.

  “Fenris will collect you shortly,” Taranis replied. “We will meet soon enough!”

  The holovid screen went blank, then switched back to showing Fenris and Hanuman on the flight deck of the Sun Wukong. Fenris looked slightly stunned and Ravana was left with the impression that he had not expected Taranis to personally intervene in such a way. Nevertheless, he soon regained his composure.

  “Captain Quirinus!” Fenris barked. “Prepare to be boarded!”

  “Don’t be foolish,” snapped Quirinus. “I will not permit our ships to be linked whilst you have a gun to Hanuman’s head. I suggest you request landing clearance from Wak and we’ll continue this conversation on the Dandridge Cole.”

  “I don’t think he was asking for your permission,” Hanuman said cautiously. “Ganesa was trying to warn you. Fenris has planted a bomb on your ship.”

  “What!?” cried Ravana. “A bomb?”

  As one, she and her father looked at the panel covering the AI unit, removed by persons unknown whilst the Platypus was at Hemakuta and hurriedly shoved back into place by Ravana after they left Yuanshi orbit. As quick as a flash, Quirinus tugged at the panel and pulled it free, leaving it to float away across the cabin. The computer had given the all-clear prior to take-off. It had not occurred to either of them that something may have been placed inside.

  Looking now, Quirinus cursed as he spied an unfamiliar orange cylinder attached to the console power feed. The device was small, yet positioned in such a way that when detonated would leave the Platypus incapacitated but otherwise undamaged.

  “Crap,” he muttered. “There’s something there alright.”
/>
  “You should listen to your friend,” said Fenris, showing them what they now guessed was the bomb trigger, his thumb still hovering above the red button. “I order you to power down your ship and prepare for boarding. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

  “Taranis said he has been watching my progress,” Surya murmured, looking warily at the holovid screen. “How is that possible?”

  “Do you want to meet with him and discuss it?” Quirinus asked Surya, glancing up from where he had been peering into the hatch.

  Surya shook his head. “Not on your life!”

  “There’s your answer,” Quirinus told Fenris. “Your prince wants nothing to do with you or your mad priest. Put the gun down and behave.”

  The watchers on the Platypus suddenly saw a third figure move quietly out of the shadows behind Fenris and Hanuman, unseen by the two men. Ganesa had a nasty bruise forming around her right eye, but her glare was defiant. In her hand, cautiously held at arm’s length, was what seemed to be a bundle of rags.

  “This is your last warning,” Fenris declared, holding up the trigger in his hand.

  “There’s innocent people aboard!” exclaimed Ravana. “You can’t be serious!”

  Fenris opened his mouth to reply. His next words were lost as Ganesa lunged forward and clamped her hand across his face. With a gurgled cry of disgust, Fenris tore off his safety harness and tumbled from his seat, releasing the plasma pistol as he scrambled free. Caught by the force of his departure, Ganesa reeled backwards in the zero gravity.

  Hanuman had not moved. Still strapped into his chair, his gaze went to the pistol and pair of socks spinning lazily above his head. The pilot reached up, plucked the gun from the air and pointed it at the fallen Fenris, who had come to a halt entangled in a rack of spacesuits. Ganesa ricocheted off the ceiling, twisted and grabbed a handrail.

  “Are those my dirty socks?” asked Hanuman. He sounded offended.

  Seizing his chance, Quirinus ducked into the maintenance hatch and gingerly began to undo the wire clips securing the bomb to the console power conduit. On screen, Fenris scrambled free of the rack and faced the holovid cameras once more. The trigger device remained in his grip.

 

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