Hollow Moon (29 page)

“Agent Dana is working with Fenris,” Zotz reminded her,
putting down the large bag he had with him. “Remember what Fenris said in his
holovid to Taranis? They’re planning a revolution on Yuanshi and it’s all
linked to the kidnapping of the Raja.”

“What?” Now it was Ravana’s turn to look bewildered.

“What do we do?” asked Ostara. “Go to the authorities?”

“Dana is the authorities,” Ravana pointed out. Her cat
had returned and clawed gently at her ankles. “Besides, I ran into Governor
Atman and he was worse than useless.”

“Then we follow them to Yuanshi,” declared Zotz.

“That was my plan,” admitted Ravana. “But I’d be glad of
the company.”

“Easier said than done,” murmured Ostara, looking out
across the runway. Of the spacecraft berthed outside, most were short-range
orbital shuttles. The information screens showed a recent arrival from Yao Chi,
Taotie but no flights to Ayodhya until the morning.

“That’s weird,” Zotz said, tapping his wristpad. “The
satellite image for Hemakuta shows two runways at the spaceport, but the
screens only list flights for one.”

Without waiting for a response, he wandered down the
corridor and was soon lost from sight. Ravana returned to her seat, looked at
Ostara and managed a weak smile.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “This trip is turning
into a nightmare.”

Ostara came and sat next to her. “I heard what happened
in the VR suite. It must be bad enough to suddenly discover you’ve got bits of
circuitry in your head, but to find out like that? I think I would have reacted
just the same.”

“It was horrible,” Ravana admitted.

Ostara took her hand. “Your father meant well,” she told
her. “It wasn’t right that he kept it from you all these years, but that
doesn’t make him a bad man.”

“I know,” said Ravana and sighed. “Dana won’t put him in
prison for helping the Maharani, will she?”

“It won’t come to that,” Ostara reassured her. “Not if I
have anything to do with it!”

Zotz came running back, waving excitedly.

“Come and see this!” he exclaimed, beckoning to them as
he picked up his bag.

Intrigued, Ravana and Ostara followed him to a long
corridor that led away from the main arrivals and departure lounges. At the end
of the passage was a small circular room with a high ceiling, large glass windows
and a door that led outside to an expanse of smooth concrete that was the
mirror image of the airstrip on the other side of the spaceport. Parked at the
end of the deserted landing strip was a large flying-wing spacecraft, one in
military green and black camouflage livery but without official markings.

“A second runway,” remarked Ravana. “Zotz, I’m impressed.
You were right.”

“The
Sun Wukong
,”
said Ostara, looking at the name on the side of the spacecraft. “Where have I
heard that before?”

“Taranis mentioned it during his holovid with Fenris,”
replied Zotz. “He said it was bringing equipment to Hemakuta and then returning
to Yuanshi.”

“So he did,” mused Ostara. “Perhaps we should find the
pilot and ask for passage.”

Zotz gave a crafty look. “Actually, I’m thinking we
should just sneak aboard.”

Ravana nodded, thinking only of her father. “I agree.”

“As the responsible adult here, I should forbid such
foolishness!” Ostara said severely.

“I have to do this,” Ravana said resolutely. Gripped by a
sense of purpose, she suddenly felt much older than her sixteen years. “I will
go alone if I have to.”

“Entering a spacecraft without proper authorisation is
illegal, not to mention extremely risky!” declared Ostara, then saw Ravana’s
woeful expression. “But I have serious reservations over Fenris’ own conduct in
such affairs. I would not be much of a security official if I did not take this
opportunity to investigate the matter further, would I?”

“Then you’ll come with me?” asked Ravana, clutching her
struggling cat to her chest.

Zotz hefted his bag to his shoulder. “I’m game.”

Ostara nodded. “We have to do what we can to find your
father,” she said. “This local craze for kidnapping is getting a little out of
hand.”

Hanuman cast an expert eye over the flight-deck console
and satisfied all was well, buckled himself into his seat. Ganesa had stayed
behind on the
Sun Wukong
and in his
absence had arranged for refuelling and prepared the ship for their return
flight. Neither of them wanted to be in Hemakuta any longer than necessary,
both agreeing the city was far too bureaucratic, false and pretentious for
their tastes. Besides, they were both wanted for smuggling offences on Daode
and bribes to Que Qiao officials were becoming expensive.

“Did you make the delivery okay?” asked Ganesa.

“Fenris didn’t turn up to the rendezvous, so I left the
equipment in the conference hall control room as per instructions,” Hanuman
replied. He noticed Ganesa was giving him an odd look. “Is anything wrong?”

“We have stowaways,” she informed him. “In the hold.”

“More rats?” asked Hanuman. Their home port of Lanka was
overrun with vermin and it was becoming increasingly tedious to keep them from
sneaking aboard and chewing on the ship’s wiring. “Never mind. They won’t last
long in there once we hit deep space.”

“Look for yourself.”

Hanuman shrugged. “Computer,” he ordered. “Give me visual
on the hold.”

“That command is not recognised,” came the synthesized
reply. Hanuman scowled.

“I’ll do it,” said Ganesa, smiling. “Computer, can you put
the cargo bay monitor on the main screen, please?”

“Confirmed,” the computer intoned.

Hanuman looked at the main console display and squinted
at the view inside the hold. Three figures were clearly visible, crouched low
behind the ship’s cargo of animal feed and crated farming equipment.

“Rather young for pirates, don’t you think?” he observed.
“I’m sure you would agree that the Chinese woman is far too pretty and
innocent-looking to be a Que Qiao spy.”

Ganesa raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Do we throw them
off?”

“Anyone desperate enough to hide aboard this ship is
obviously anxious to avoid the authorities and therefore can’t be all bad,”
remarked Hanuman. “They look harmless enough. Just make sure they’re able to
open the inner airlock to the passenger cabin when they need to and hit them
with the usual depressurisation warnings once we clear Hemakuta airspace. I’ll
go and introduce myself once we break orbit.”

“Right you are, boss!” giggled Ganesa. “You’re just a big
softy at heart.”

“I may have a sideline in selling child slaves for all
you know,” he retorted.

Ganesa smiled again and selected the controls to fire up
the main engines. Moments later, the
Sun Wukong
was accelerating hard down the runway, all systems purring in a sweet
technological symphony as it prepared for another fiery ascent into the void.

THE
SUN WUKONG
stood
at rest in the darkness, cocooned in a hush broken only by the gentle ting-ting
of cooling metal. The spacecraft had made for the side of Yuanshi that faced
the mighty Shennong, descending through the night to land at a lonely forest
airstrip on a small island continent and hundreds of kilometres from the
nearest major settlement. The ship had come to a halt near the single security
light above the gate at the end of the runway, beyond which lay a cluster of
large square buildings. The dark was far from total, for the huge crescent of
the gas giant that hung above the horizon bathed the scene in a sickly yellow
aura, casting the surrounding bamboo forest into sharp relief.

Ravana peered through the cabin porthole, looking for
signs of movement, but all was still. The
Sun Wukong
’s pilots had left the ship shortly after landing,
leaving robot porters to unload and take away their cargo to the nearby
buildings. Upon finding them lurking in the passenger cabin, the man who
introduced himself as Hanuman had not been angry but had made it clear he
wanted them off the ship as soon as they made planet-fall. The trouble was they
had no idea where on the moon they actually were, or indeed where to go from
here.

“I take it this is Yuanshi?” whispered Ostara, at the
next window.

“Seeing Shennong in the sky like that brings it all back
to me,” Ravana murmured, stroking her cat. “There’s no way it would appear that
big from Daode.”

“We should leave,” said Zotz nervously. “Before they come
back.”

The airlock door to the cargo bay was unlocked and before
long they were slinking surreptitiously away into the warm night air. Like that
of all terraformed moons, Yuanshi’s atmosphere was thin but had a high oxygen
content to compensate. However, the civil war had left the terraforming
programme on Yuanshi less advanced than on Daode and once out of the ship the
difference in air quality was noticeable. Moving quickly as they were, by the
time they reached the fence separating the runway from the nearby buildings,
Ostara and Zotz were panting heavily and close to collapse.

“My word!” exclaimed Ostara, between gasps. “This is like
running up a mountain!”

“Why aren’t you out of breath?” Zotz asked Ravana,
sounding almost offended.

“I was born on Yuanshi,” she reminded him. “I guess I’ve
still got the lungs for it.”

The nearby gate, lit by the sole security light, had been
left wide open by the long-vanished robot porters. Beyond, a gravel track ran
towards the nearest of the vast warehouse-sized constructions they had seen
earlier, which now they were closer proved to be immense square tents of canvas
sitting upon stone foundations. From where they stood the lower point of
Shennong’s crescent was just visible through the thin canvas walls of the
nearest tent and its yellow light revealed a tantalising glimpse of a
jungle-like interior. Yet there was still no sign of the crew of the
Sun
Wukong
, or indeed anyone else. The quiet
within the forest clearing was positively eerie.

“I thought Yuanshi was supposed to be a war zone,”
murmured Zotz.

“We’re obviously far away from any fighting,” guessed
Ostara. “And from anywhere else by the look of it.” She looked hopefully at
Ravana. “Any ideas?”

“You’re asking me?” Ravana retorted. “I haven’t a clue
where we are!”

“You were born on this moon!”

“I left Yuanshi when I was seven,” Ravana said irritably.
She was starting to think that stowing away on the
Sun Wukong
had been a very bad idea. “All I can tell you is that
this is definitely nowhere near Ayodhya, which is where Fenris was heading. If
my wristpad wasn’t broken I may have been able to tell you more.”

“I doubt it,” remarked Zotz. He had been tapping
fruitlessly at his own device, having dropped his bag to the floor. “I can’t
get a signal. I think this place is shielded.”

“Nothing at all?” asked Ravana.

“I did receive a message just before we landed,” he
admitted. “Miss Clymene was asking where we were and why we missed the
rehearsal this evening.”

Ravana groaned. “Everything is going wrong. Were you able
to send a reply?”

Zotz shook his head. “Sorry.”

“Well, we can’t stay here,” Ostara said brightly. “Let’s
have a look around.”

Zotz glanced back at the
Sun Wukong
. “We could wait until the crew returned.”

“I have a feeling we wouldn’t be welcome,” she replied.
“Come!”

Ostara led the way through the gate and on towards the
nearest tent. Ravana felt her cat squirming in her arms, clearly distressed,
yet when she tried to put it down it dug its claws into the sleeves of her
flight suit and refused to let go. As they approached the huge wire-mesh gate
in the wall of the nearest tent, her pet began to wail in a highly disturbing
manner, each meow fainter than the last until finally it fell into a trembling
silence. Ravana was getting another of her headaches and the increasingly
erratic and uncalled-for vocal displays of an electric cat were not helping at
all.

“This gate is locked,” observed Zotz. He peered at the
control panel on the wall next to the entrance. “And electrified. I wonder
what’s inside?”

Ravana stared at the panel, then her eyes went wide as an
image suddenly popped into her thoughts. Somewhat unexpectedly, in her mind was
a pictogram of the gate, just as she had seen the airlock control whilst
dangling down the shaft on the
Dandridge Cole
.

“Pictures in my head,” she murmured.

She knew now it was her cranium implant that had opened
the airlock; a revelation she found somewhat disquieting. The gate control was
relatively straightforward in comparison, being a simple square of red lines
with a jagged red symbol upon it. Armed with a determined scowl, Ravana
directed her thoughts to mentally push first against the symbol and then the
square. In her mind she caught an odd little beep, then both images changed
from red to green. There was a loud clunk as the real gate powered down and
unlocked.

“Are you okay?” asked Ostara, seeing Ravana wince.

“This thing in my head feels ready to explode,” she said
grimly. Ahead, the two halves of the gate slowly rolled aside to reveal a dark
and humid interior.

“You used your implant!” Zotz exclaimed. He looked at Ravana
in awe.

“Girl and machine in perfect harmony,” she replied
gloomily.

Inside the tent, the dim light of Shennong shimmered
softly upon a confusion of tightly-packed trees, shrubs and undergrowth
drenched in heavy condensation. The air was alive with the gentle cacophony of
rustles, chirrups and slithers of creatures of the night, punctuated by
occasional glints from tiny watching eyes. The lack of artificial light
emphasised the primeval ambience. An unnerved Ravana, Ostara and Zotz found
themselves huddling close as they peered into the riot of foliage before them.