Upon hearing the name of the hollow moon, Hanuman and Ganesa visibly stiffened and a hush fell upon the table. Ostara appeared not to notice, but Ravana caught their awkward expressions and gave Hanuman a questioning stare.
“So you must be Ravana,” he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Complete with some sort of electric pet, I see. Where have I heard your name recently?”
“Yaksha mentioned someone called Ravana when we were at Kubera. She asked the young Raja if he knew anyone by that name,” interjected Ganesa. She gave an apologetic grin in response to Hanuman’s glare. “Whoops! I’ve said too much.”
“The Raja!” cried Ravana. “The Maharani’s kidnapped son?”
“The holovid call,” Zotz murmured to Ostara. “Taranis mentioned their ship.”
“That’s right!” Ostara declared, looking at Hanuman. “We listened in on a conversation between Fenris and someone called Taranis. We know you were delivering equipment to Hemakuta for them. How do you know the Raja?”
“I’m supposed to be asking the questions!” he retorted. “Why are you so interested?”
“Fenris pulled a gun on my father and forced him to fly the Platypus to Ayodhya!” Ravana said bluntly. “All I want to do is find my father and go home.”
“The Platypus?” Hanuman looked startled. “You’re O’Brien’s daughter?”
“You know my father?” Ravana asked, hardly able to believe it.
Ganesa rolled her eyes. “This galaxy is getting smaller by the day.”
“We know Quirinus and the Platypus of old,” said Hanuman. “We’ve shared a Dead Horse Gin or two in many a trading post around the five systems. I had no idea he was involved in this stupid plot Taranis and Kartikeya have cooked up for the conference.”
“Bit of a coincidence, you knowing her father,” Ostara said doubtfully.
“It’s hard not to remember someone who flies a ship called Platypus!” Hanuman said with a smile. “Besides, we’re in the same trade and there’s not many of us independent flyers around. He’s a good man, Ravana. I am so sorry you’re caught up in all of this.”
He spoke with a genuine fondness. Ganesa reached out to Ravana, pushed aside a lock of the girl’s hair and gently touched the scar on her face. Her smile wore a sadness that suggested she knew what had happened to Ravana and her family all those years ago.
“Zotz and I came to Daode to play with the Newbrum band at the peace conference,” Ravana said and sighed. “We thought Fenris asked to come along so he could talk to the Raja’s kidnappers. Nothing seems to make sense anymore.”
“I agree with that,” murmured Ganesa.
“I don’t know the full story myself,” Hanuman admitted. “What I do know is that we’re finding it increasingly difficult to tell one side from another in this crazy war.”
*
Hanuman’s story was a familiar tale. The Que Qiao Corporation had long grown beyond the point where its president and board of governors could claim to have full control. Yuanshi was a long way from the corporation’s headquarters in Shanghai and shareholders on Earth did not want to hear about a war on some far-flung moon. Governor Jaggarneth in Ayodhya had been left to manage the situation, on the understanding no questions would be asked as long as profits continued to roll. Yuanshi was otherwise of great interest to the corporation, for Hanuman and Ganesa had learned that the moon was home to a valuable resource used in the commercial manufacture of AI units.
Jaggarneth long ago decided to use the civil war as an excuse to run Yuanshi as a police state under a corporate version of martial law. The self-proclaimed freedom fighters of Lanka were badly organised, ill-equipped and had not had a strong leader since the death of Surya’s father years before. When the priest Taranis reappeared on the scene and the plot to restore a Maharaja to the throne of Yuanshi was discovered, Jaggarneth set his agents to work to ensure that whatever happened, the war would continue.
“What about the peace conference?” asked Ravana. “Is that all just for show?”
Ganesa shook her head. “The conference is Governor Atman’s idea,” she said. “He’s really sweet and genuinely wants to bring peace to Yuanshi. He doesn’t understand that it’s only Jaggarneth’s meddling that is keeping the war going in the first place.”
Zotz looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Commander Kartikeya and his royalists are a useless bunch of misfits who are more likely to injure themselves than anyone else,” Hanuman said flatly, making Ganesa smile. “Namtar and Inari, who carried out the kidnapping of the Raja, were secretly helped by Jaggarneth every step of the way. Que Qiao agents found a suitable ship and delivered it to where it could be conveniently stolen, while Fenris provided plans to the Dandridge Cole and arranged it so one of the airlocks could be opened from outside.”
“Fenris is a Que Qiao agent?” asked Ostara. “Isn’t he working for Taranis?”
“This is where it gets confusing,” admitted Ganesa. “As far as Kartikeya is aware, Fenris is a double agent whose true loyalty lies with the royalists. I’m not so sure.”
“What about you?” asked Zotz. “You said you’ve met the Raja and you seem to know all about the kidnapping. Are you double agents as well?”
Ganesa looked at Hanuman, then shrugged. “We’re free agents,” she replied. “Mercenaries. We work for anyone as long as the price is right.”
“Who are you working for at the moment?” Ravana asked, eyeing Hanuman carefully. She had yet to make up her mind about whether to trust him and Ganesa.
Hanuman smiled. “Right now we have an empty cargo bay and are open to offers!”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“The farm supplies we brought here were a Que Qiao consignment,” he told her. “Before that, we were in Hemakuta delivering equipment for Kartikeya. And in case you hadn’t guessed, it was our ship that collected Namtar, Inari and the Raja from Ascension and took them to Lanka. I suppose we have a preference for working for Kartikeya and his rebels; the pay’s good and the kitchens at Kubera serve only the best the system has to offer!”
“What was the equipment you took to Hemakuta?” asked Zotz.
“No idea!” said Hanuman. “The crate was sealed and I didn’t ask questions.”
“You really are a class act,” murmured Ostara. “No morals at all.”
“That’s not fair!” protested Hanuman. “Que Qiao frequently threatens to impound the Sun Wukong and throw us in Feng Du unless we agree to play by their rules now and again,” he said. They had all heard of Feng Du, an infamous penal colony on Taotie.
“If you’re in his good books, Hanuman is as loyal as they come,” added Ganesa.
“That’s right!” said Hanuman. “I’ve never let you down, have I?”
Ganesa hesitated. “Well…”
“We’re getting off the point,” Ostara hastily interrupted. “Governor Jaggarneth and Que Qiao helped the rebels kidnap the Raja? Why would they do that?”
“Jaggarneth wants the peace conference to end in chaos,” Hanuman explained. “Partly to enflame the civil war, but also to discredit Atman. Jaggarneth hopes to persuade his superiors that he, not Atman, should be governor of Daode. It’s a more prestigious job.”
“Politics is mind-boggling,” said Ostara and sighed. It was getting too much for Ravana and Zotz, who although interested were tired and on the verge of falling asleep at the table. “One thing you never explained. Why is Yuanshi so important to Que Qiao?”
Hanuman smiled. “You’ve already seen it for yourself,” he replied. “The top secret plantation you somehow managed to enter is in the middle of nowhere for a very good reason. Inside is something very precious indeed.”
Ostara stared at him. “The eggs?”
Hanuman smiled. “And much, much more.”
*
A short while later they found themselves once again at the entrance to the covered plantation. Ostara ventured that they had forgotten to retrieve Zotz’s flying lant
ern, which if discovered could get Hanuman and Ganesa into a lot of trouble. Hanuman appeared to have other concerns and alongside his plasma pistol now also carried a holovid camera. He had been most tactful when asking Ravana whether she could open the gate again.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked her. They had already found that the gate and electronic defences had automatically locked and reset in their absence.
Ravana nodded. The picture of the red square and jagged symbol had come back into her head when she stepped up to the gate and it was a simple matter to manipulate the mental image exactly as she had done before. A loud clunk drifted across the night as the two halves of the gate unlocked and began to roll open.
“That’s amazing,” murmured Ganesa. She had already confessed to be more curious than anyone to see what lay inside. “I also have an implant,” she confided to Ravana. “But I’ve never detected any remote circuits in this area. How did you do that?”
Ravana shrugged. “I just prodded the picture in my head.”
“You have an implant?” Zotz asked Ganesa.
“It doesn’t seem to have the same capabilities as Ravana’s, but yes,” she replied. “I was born in Ayodhya the year Que Qiao started the implant programme.”
“When was that? Forty, fifty years ago?” joked Hanuman.
Ganesa gave him a playful punch. “Don’t be horrible! I’m thirty-two.”
Hanuman grinned. Ahead, the gate rattled to a halt. Holding his lamp high, he stepped into the jungle beyond. Close behind were Ravana and Zotz, with Ostara and Ganesa bringing up the rear with the aid of a second lantern. Ravana and Zotz had jumped at the chance of another adventure in the plantation. Ostara, after mumbling something about her comfy Pampa Palace hotel room and her foolishness in not taking a relaxing bath when she had the chance, needed a little more convincing. Ravana once again carried her cat, which still acted most strangely and tried to scrabble up her leg whenever she put it down.
They retraced their earlier steps in no time and arrived back at the edge of the circular pit. Ganesa was fascinated by the grey spheres; although well-versed in the native flora and fauna of Yuanshi, she too had not seen anything like them before. A faint heat rose from the pit and Ravana was convinced the eggs trembled slightly. Zotz had found his fallen lamp, its rotors now dented, but continued to peer into the surrounding jungle as if expecting to see something else. Hanuman took out his holovid camera and spent a few moments recording the scene, slowly panning from left to right as he did so.
“Are they really alien?” asked Ostara. “What lays eggs like that?”
“A massive spider!” said Zotz gleefully. Ravana grimaced in horror.
“The red-crested thunderworm,” Hanuman told them. “A species native to Yuanshi.”
Ravana shook her head. “No way. Thunderworms do not grow that big!”
“Genetically engineered ones do,” Hanuman told her, lowering the camera. “It’s unusual to see a hatchery out here in the open, but this isn’t what I wanted to show you. Everyone knows about egg.”
“Do they?” asked Ostara, looking wary. Ravana shrugged.
Ganesa seemed surprised. “You’ve never heard of egg?”
“Alien or chicken?” asked Zotz.
Ravana remembered a curious phrase Maia had used at the floating market, seemingly as an insult. “The girl from Bradbury Heights asked Endymion if he was on egg,” she mused. “Is ‘egg’ the nickname for some sort of drug?”
“The Administrator said something similar at Newbrum spaceport,” recalled Ostara.
Hanuman laughed. “You’ve never heard the phrase ‘egg head’?”
As one, Ostara, Ravana and Zotz shook their heads.
“How do you stay so sweet and innocent in this day and age?” asked Hanuman and grinned. “Thunderworm eggs are the main ingredient in a street drug known as egg: a fine yellow powder that people mix into drinks for the ultimate mellow experience. It leaves you blissfully happy, without a care in the world,” he added wistfully. “Egg heads tend to stumble around in a daze, grinning at everyone and being far too laid-back for their own good.”
“That does sound like Endymion,” admitted Ravana. “Perhaps I should try feeding some to Jones. It’s been a bag of nerves ever since we got off the ship. Do you want some egg?” she asked her pet, motioning towards the hollow. The cat looked at her in disgust.
“Drugs made from worm eggs?” Zotz was astounded.
“Que Qiao has whole plantations dedicated to it here on Yuanshi,” Hanuman told them. “Yet egg is illegal and banned across the five systems. You can be arrested and thrown in jail if caught in possession of even the tiniest amount.”
“Que Qiao is both police and pushers,” Ganesa said bitterly. “By being part of the drug trade they can control the supply and keep certain elements of society in check.”
“I don’t believe it,” retorted Ravana.
“This is nothing,” Hanuman told her. “Wait until you see the big secret!”
“If this place is so secret, how do you know about it?” asked Ostara.
“Que Qiao use outsiders to deliver to this research facility because officially it doesn’t exist,” he explained. “If the wider world ever got to know about it, Que Qiao agents would happily shoot everyone involved, burn the place to the ground, then moan about having to make an expenses claim for shiny new suits to replace the ones covered in soot and blood.”
Ravana looked at Ostara and gulped. Hanuman stepped forward once more and urged them to follow, leading them around the edge of the pit and deeper into the plantation. After a few minutes, they caught sight of a low windowless building nestled in a small clearing and surrounded by a barbed-wire fence. Hanuman led them towards a gate in the fence and the unmistakeable hum of an electrified fence.
Hanuman paused before the gate and turned to Ravana. “Can you open this one?”
“Is that all I am to you?” she asked warily. “A bunch of keys?”
“How provincial. No one uses actual keys anymore, do they?”
Ravana recalled that locksmith was still a valid trade in some of the more backwards communities of the hollow moon. An image of the gate had already popped into her mind. With a quick mental flex, she released the lock as easily as before. The gate swung open.
“Happy now?” she asked.
Hanuman bowed. “You are most kind, my lady.”
The sunken building ahead was as big as a spacecraft hanger. The concrete bunker was entirely featureless apart from a recessed steel door and a sinister-looking chimney stack disappearing into the gloom. Behind the building was what looked like a small power station. Hanuman walked briskly down the narrow cutting towards the door and gestured impatiently for the others to follow.
“Note the fusion power plant,” he remarked. “You need a tremendous amount of power to run a cloning facility. Ravana, can you get us inside?”
She came to his side and concentrated upon the picture of the door in her head.
“This one’s tricky,” she told him. “There’s three separate locks, plus some other device I’m not sure about.”
“A booby trap?” suggested Hanuman.
Ganesa gave him a worried stare. “Is that likely?”
Hanuman shrugged. “Explosives, maybe. Or a toxic gas cylinder. Who knows?”
“Perhaps it’s keeping something in,” postulated Zotz. “Rather than keeping us out.”
“Wonderful,” Ostara murmured.
Ravana considered the image in her mind. Hanuman’s response and her own engineering knowledge was enough to tell her that the flashing red square with the skull-and-crossbones symbol probably needed to be deactivated first. Nevertheless, it was with some trepidation that she reached out to give the square a mental prod; and a huge relief when the symbol stopped flashing and changed from red to green. With renewed confidence she quickly released the three locks and jumped as a trio of solenoids shot back with a clang. Moments later, a warning buzzer sounded and the hea
vy door swung open.
“Good girl,” murmured Hanuman. He made as if to step through the door, then hesitated. “A word of warning. This is not for the squeamish.”
The space inside was dimly lit by a series of glowing roof tiles that revealed the scale of the interior but little else. The air was filled with a strong smell of hay and animal sweat, reminding Ravana of her days on the farm back on the hollow moon, as did the muted rustlings, squawks, squeaks and heavy breathing that told her they were not alone. Hanuman moved to the control panel on the wall next to the door and activated a switch. Above them, the roof tiles brightened and flooded the bunker with light.
Ravana shrieked. In a cage dead ahead, regarding her with eyes the size of plates, was the biggest spider she had ever seen. Its bulbous purple-black bulk twitched upon hairy legs that were as tall as she was and Ravana stared transfixed in horror as cruel pincers either side of its mouth flexed in anticipation. Ostara scowled and drew her close.
“Yuck,” Ostara muttered. “How gross.”
“Ashtapada!” wailed Ravana, looking fearfully at the caged arachnid. “I always thought the stories were myths! What’s one doing here?”
“It’s not just spiders,” exclaimed Zotz. “Look!”
The building was filled with rows of metal cages, nearly every one of which contained a creature of some sort. Startled, Ravana recognised some from her childhood days in Lanka: a nearby cage held a bat-like northern blood yerk, while further along she could see the familiar silhouette of a rainbow cloud surfer, so called because of the huge hydrogen-filled sac that enabled the jellyfish-like predator to float in air. Yet there were many others she could not identify, though a few looked tantalising like the poor animal she had seen at Hemakuta floating market.
The cages here were larger, but little attempt had been made to furnish them with a mock natural habitat as a concession to their reluctant occupants. The whole scene had a clinical air about it, one made ominous by the way it had been hidden from prying eyes.
“It’s like some sort of secret zoo,” murmured Ganesa, visibly shocked.
“Yes, but where are the keepers?” asked Ostara. It puzzled Ravana too that they had not seen another soul anywhere in the plantation. “Who looks after the animals?”
Hollow Moon Page 23
