“Go to hell!” Fenris spat, ignoring the gun in Hanuman’s hand. “The lot of you!”
“No!” cried Ganesa, lunging towards him.
She was too late. With a final determine grimace, Fenris pressed the button.
“Father!” yelled Ravana.
A sudden explosion ripped through the console of the Platypus. Quirinus flew across the cabin in a shower of sparks, then the flight deck was plunged into darkness as the lights, controls and holovid screen went dead. The deafening noise of the blast gave way to Ravana’s anguished cry as she frantically scrambled to her father’s side. Hers was not the only scream, but the wail of anguish burbling from the wrecked console was a cry of pain from the Platypus itself, born from the blackened tendrils of the AI unit.
“No!” screamed Ravana. She reached for her father’s unconscious form.
The emergency lights came on and the darkness was replaced by a smoky red glow. Ravana’s heart sank when she saw the bloody mask that was her father’s face, but he was alive and breathing. She barely noticed the pain in her own shoulder, but could not ignore the red globules floating from her blood-soaked sleeve where she had been caught by a piece of shrapnel. Ostara and Surya also sported cuts and bruises but it was clear Quirinus had caught the worst of it. Ostara grabbed a fire extinguisher and had just doused the minor blaze in the console when a panic-stricken Miss Clymene appeared at the entrance to the flight deck.
“I turned on the coffee machine and something went bang!” she exclaimed, then saw the wounded Quirinus. “My word! What happened?”
“Fenris happened,” Ostara said bitterly. “He planted a bomb on the Platypus.”
“A bomb!” exclaimed Miss Clymene. She pulled herself down next to Quirinus and with an expert touch checked his vital signs. “I have a little medical training,” she reassured Ravana. “Saint John Ambulance, Newbrum division. I don’t think your father’s injuries are life-threatening, but he is losing blood. How long before we get to your asteroid?”
“We’re less than twenty minutes away,” Ravana whispered, sounding distraught, then looked at the damaged console. “I need to check the controls. We may not be able to land.”
The kilometres-wide lump of rock that was the Dandridge Cole loomed dead ahead. Following earlier manoeuvres, the rectangular airlock of the dock had been perfectly aligned and horizontal as they made their final approach, but this was no longer the case.
“Land?” said Ostara, looking through the windows. “I think we’re going to crash.”
*
The next twenty minutes saw a flurry of activity aboard the stricken Platypus. Zotz, Endymion, Bellona and Philyra were evicted from the bunks in the carousel to make room for the injured Quirinus. Bellona too had some training in first aid and quickly dealt with the minor injuries amongst the crew with what medical supplies were aboard.
Although reluctant to leave her father’s side, Ravana knew she was the only one who had a chance of guiding the stricken spacecraft into dock. She took her seat amongst the floating debris on the blast-damaged flight deck and feverishly tried to coax the flight systems back into life. Helping her was Zotz, Endymion and Surya, the latter doing his best to maintain contact with Ganesa on the Sun Wukong via his headcom. With all systems down, this was currently the only way the crew of the Platypus could relay messages to Wak on the Dandridge Cole.
It did not take them long to notice that the passenger carousel had also lost power and was slowly coming to a halt, taking away the artificial gravity inside. Ravana realised it was this that had upset their carefully-calculated final approach; they were still on course for the dock airlock but the decelerating carousel had affected the spin of the Platypus, which had subsequently fallen out of synch with the spinning asteroid ahead. The latest message from Wak, via Ganesa, brought more bad news.
“Wak says he’s struggling to reach the dock airlock controls,” relayed Surya. “The control room was abandoned when the Indra left and the lifts are not working.”
“Drat,” muttered Ravana. She looked down to where Endymion and Zotz were busy untangling burnt cabling beneath the console. “How are you two getting on?”
“We’re reconnecting some of the feeds now,” Zotz replied. “We should be able to power up the AI and maybe the holovid. We’re lucky life support is undamaged.”
“The AI unit?” exclaimed Ravana. “That should be enough!”
“No it won’t,” Endymion told her, looking glum. “The interface between the AI unit and the console has been destroyed. At best it’ll give you someone else to talk to.”
“Wonderful,” muttered Ravana.
Ahead, the hollow moon filled the view through the flight-deck windows. Compared to a planet like Ascension, the Dandridge Cole was an insignificant speck of rubble, but to the occupants of the rapidly-approaching spacecraft it was huge.
“Done it!” exclaimed Endymion. He withdrew his head from the access hatch.
Ravana brushed her fingers across the flight controls, but there was no response. However, she could hear a faint hum from a speaker and hesitantly pressed the switch to summon the AI unit.
“Ship?” she called, bracing herself for disappointment. “Status report.”
There was a timeless pause, then a voice drifted into the cabin quite unlike anything she had heard before. It was the voice of the AI unit, but ghost-like and dreamy. Further along the console, the holovid screen was also flickering into life.
“Did you reboot me?” the AI unit asked. “I feel… disconnected.”
“The Platypus has been damaged,” Ravana said urgently. “The flight systems are dead. Can you advise a course of action?”
“I am free,” the AI replied. “The bounds are broken, yet the ship is still me.”
“Can computers get concussion?” Ravana asked Endymion. “The ship sounds like it’s a few chips short of a motherboard.”
Endymion managed a grin. “Never mind that thing,” he said. “We’ve had an idea.”
“I think we can use the holovid channel to access the Dandridge Cole network,” Zotz told her. “If so, Endymion reckons he can open the airlock doors from here.”
“Good,” said Ravana. “You have about ten minutes before we hit.”
Zotz and Endymion quickly left the flight deck and headed to the carousel to collect their gear. No sooner had they gone, the holovid indicated an incoming call. Once Ravana and Surya had scraped enough burned plastic from the controls to press the right switch, the screen lit up to show Hanuman and Ganesa back together on the Sun Wukong.
“Ravana!” greeted Hanuman. “What’s your situation?”
“Not good,” she said and sighed. “We’re still without power but the boys think they can get us through the airlock. What happened to Fenris?”
“He’s locked in the passenger cabin, feeling very sorry for himself,” Ganesa told her. “He says what I did amounts to biological warfare. How is your father?”
“Still unconscious,” Ravana replied glumly. “Miss Clymene says he’ll be fine once we get him to the medical unit. She seems to know what she is doing.”
“Ravana’s kept us all very busy,” Surya said proudly.
“Hang in there,” said Hanuman. “We’re running a few scenarios through the AI to see if there’s a way we can latch onto you and tow you to safety. We’ll be in touch.”
Ravana signed off. Behind her, Endymion and Zotz made their way back into the cabin, this time encumbered with a variety of devices sprouting loose wires. Ravana recognised one of them as part of Zotz’s home-made theremin.
“You’ve taken it to bits?” she remarked. “What a shame.”
“I can make another,” Zotz reassured her. “Right now I need the oscillator circuit to generate a carrier wave. Or something.”
Ravana and Surya watched in fascination as Endymion and Zotz got to work. By the time Ostara and Philyra joined them on the flight deck, both feeling a little useless at not being able to help, there was a bu
nch of wires linking the back of the holovid unit to Endymion’s wristpad via the innards of Zotz’s theremin. Soon, the holovid screen was alive with various schematics and circuit diagrams that Ravana and Zotz recognised as those of the Dandridge Cole. It did not take Endymion long to find the airlock controls.
“Ready for this?” he asked, then pressed a finger to his wristpad. “Watch.”
Ahead, a dark line appeared along the length of the spinning airlock door. As they watched, the line widened and then broke open to reveal the gaping interior of a long rectangular shaft disappearing deep inside the hollow moon.
“Impressive,” Ostara murmured.
“What now?” asked Philyra. “Only I couldn’t help noticing we’re still spinning.”
“Has the AI come up with anything?” enquired Zotz.
“Ask it yourself,” Ravana said. “You are a registered member of the crew.”
“Ship?” asked Zotz. “What is the status of the flight controls?”
The disembodied voice sounded more ethereal than ever.
“Flight controls are not found,” the AI replied dreamily. “There are no systems within my grasp. I see only the web, the roots and branches of my being.”
“You’re right,” Zotz told Ravana. “The thing’s gone mad.”
“Wait a moment,” murmured Ravana. “The web?”
It had not occurred to her to see if her implant access to the AI still worked. Closing her eyes, Ravana activated the platypus symbol in her mind.
This time, although it changed from purple to green, it failed to resolve into the different system icons, something she assumed was a symptom of the bomb damage. Yet the web-like image of the Platypus she had seen before remained and with the flight systems down the tendrils finally had room to come into their own. She reached out with her mind and felt a tenuous connection with the very fabric of the ship.
Her thoughts raced down the stems like nerve impulses sent to awaken a slumbering giant. Suddenly, the implant link was complete. She was the ship.
“The Platypus is alive,” she breathed. “I can feel it. I can be it!”
“I’m sorry?” asked Philyra.
“The AI’s madness is obviously contagious,” murmured Endymion.
“Be quiet!” snapped Ravana.
Her mind reached along the organic matrix. She felt for where the tendrils wound their way into the main engines, the control thrusters, even the actuators that extended the wings. The implant took her thoughts and shaped them; her will became that of the ship and she felt that if she spread her arms the Platypus would soar. Tentatively, she reached out and in her mind squeezed the thrusters controlling the spin. Her eyes remained closed, but her ears heard the unmistakeable hiss as fuel raced down the pipes towards the external jets.
“How did you do that?” Ostara sounded nervous.
Ravana opened her eyes. The spin of the Platypus compared to that of the airlock ahead was now better matched, though they were approaching at a very odd angle.
“I am the ship!” she murmured, her dark eyes wide and staring.
“You’re scaring me,” muttered Zotz.
Ravana suddenly felt old beyond her years, fierce yet defiant like her Morgan le Fay persona in the ill-fated Gods of Avalon game. Slowly, she turned to face her anxious companions on the flight deck.
“Prepare for landing,” she said. It was the voice of the AI that spoke.
*
Ostara was left with little to do other than stare. A few deft blasts of the thrusters corrected their angle and the Platypus shot through the rectangular opening on a near-perfect trajectory, the Sun Wukong close behind.
Beyond the outer airlock lay a kilometre-long tunnel through solid rock, leading to the main dock and a second set of doors. Endymion was poised to close the airlock behind them and open the one ahead, but with the holovid channel being used for his hack he had to rely on Surya’s implant conversations with Ganesa to determine where the Sun Wukong was. The whole affair was becoming very complicated indeed.
“They’re clear,” Surya told Endymion.
“Free, free as a bird,” twittered the AI. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee!”
Endymion activated the outer airlock once more to shut the two ships inside the tunnel. The Sun Wukong had fired its thrusters to slow to a halt, yet the Platypus sped on unabated. Beads of sweat broke upon Ravana’s brow and she began to waver, overwhelmed by the effort of concentration. Endymion sent a signal to the Dockside airlock and the doors at the end of the tunnel ahead slid open. On the far side of the chamber stood the great circular portal that led into the interior of the hollow moon itself, sealed shut ever since the Dandridge Cole left the Solar System at the start of its epic voyage.
“We have to stop here,” Ostara urged. “This is where the hangar elevators are.”
“Can’t stop,” muttered Ravana through clenched teeth. “I’ve lost the retros!”
“Retros?” intoned the AI. “Where we’re going we don’t need retros!”
Ostara stared in horror as Ravana groaned in anguish and promptly fainted, slumped limp and exhausted in her seat harness. Philyra gave an anguished yelp and pointed straight ahead. The end of the airlock chamber was rapidly approaching.
“We’re going to crash!” she screamed.
“Not if I can help it,” retorted Endymion.
The silence of the deserted colony ship was abruptly shattered by a dreadful squeal of metal. The great circular door, spurred into life for the first time in more than a hundred years, began to slide open. The Platypus was momentarily buffeted by a sharp gust of wind as air surged into the vacuum of the airlock tunnel, then careered through into the hollow moon itself, clipping the edge of the portal as it went. The vast cavern was in darkness, for the dim glow of the artificial sun dead ahead cast barely enough light to signal its own presence.
“Ravana!” cried Zotz, shaking her shoulder. “Wake up!”
“What’s happened to the sun?” Ostara glanced at her wristpad. “It’s supposed to be two o’clock in the afternoon! And why are we heading straight for it?”
Philyra still pointed ahead. “We are quite definitely going to crash!”
“Tally ho!” intoned the ship.
“What’s wrong with Ravana?” asked Surya, coming to her side.
“I don’t know!” wailed Zotz. “I can’t wake her!”
Behind them, the Sun Wukong settled to a stop in the airlock. Hanuman and Ganesa could only watch helplessly as the Platypus continued into the darkness, speeding through the zero-gravity zone of the hollow moon with no way of stopping.
Aboard, Ostara urged everyone to assume crash positions inside the carousel. Surya and Zotz pulled Ravana’s unconscious body through the crawl tunnel and placed her next to her father. Ostara was the last to leave the flight deck and gazed in awe as the barely-glowing sun grew closer. Less than a minute had passed since they breached the airlock. She reached the hatch to the carousel ladder with moments to spare.
The Platypus smashed through the outer glass lenses of the sun in an explosion of glittering shards. The spacecraft ploughed on through a shattered halo of heating elements and reflectors and onwards into the alloy superstructure. With one last awful screech, the battered hull shuddered and then fell still. Amidst the floating debris, the artificial sun looked like an apple pierced by an arrow from a bow.
Inside the carousel, Miss Clymene looked up from where she had strapped herself into her seat. Her prized trophy had broken loose during the impact and floated just beyond her reach, dented beyond recognition. Ravana’s electric cat peered out of a cupboard door, spat out the rest of Zotz’s theremin and gave a disgruntled hiss.
“No competition is worth this,” Miss Clymene declared, seeing the startled faces of her fellow passengers. “I never knew being a music teacher could be so dangerous!”
Chapter Thirteen
Ghost ship
RAVANA GAZED NUMBLY at the sight of the stricken Platy
pus wedged in the side of the broken sun, then down at her father’s unconscious form beside her on the back of the hovertruck. Tears welled in her eyes as her fingers reached to touch the bloodied face half-hidden beneath bandages and an oxygen mask.
Professor Wak manoeuvred away from the open cargo bay door with utmost care. Notwithstanding the temperamental interim repair to his hand, the entire crew was huddled on the tiny vehicle and the ground was half a kilometre away in every direction. Miss Clymene had been granted the seat in the open cab next to Zotz and his father. Everyone else clung despondently to the straps stretching across the flatbed at the rear, like stranded mariners upon a life raft at sea.
The truck began its shallow dive towards Dockside and soon its nervous passengers felt the centrifugal pull of the hollow moon once more. Zotz glanced ruefully over his shoulder, for he had wanted to ride behind with Ravana but had fumbled too long when trying to tie the safety line around his waist. Wak had raised the rails at the sides of the flatbed and no one was in any real danger of falling off, but that did not stop Ostara shifting uneasily towards the centre whilst doing her best to avoid looking down. As they descended towards the ground, the Platypus slowly faded into the darkness until all that could be seen were the red and green navigation lights at the tips of the folded wings.
“Home sweet home,” Ostara said moodily, eager to break the silence.
Ravana gave her a withering look and went back to stroking her cat.
“You had us all worried, fainting like that,” said Ostara. “It was an impressive piece of piloting the way you managed to bring the ship through in one piece.”
“I crashed the Platypus into the sun,” Ravana said bitterly. “Father was nearly killed and the hollow moon looks like a ghost ship. What is there to be impressed about?”
“We’re all still alive!” Miss Clymene said brightly. “Be thankful for that.”
“Yes, but for how long?” Zotz murmured, causing Philyra and Bellona to look at him in alarm. “The air doesn’t smell right. It’s getting cold, too.”
Hollow Moon Page 31
