“Well deduced,” Ostara remarked. “I’ll make a detective of you yet.”
“Have you seen anyone else?” asked Ravana. “Zotz thought there was a woman on the stairs. He is however wearing a mask and it was very dark,” she added hastily.
“Not a soul. The palace was deserted, but we found a secret passage from Fenris’ room that led up to this tunnel. It was quite a walk! It’s taken us an hour to get this far.”
“Access Tunnel A,” said Surya. “All four kilometres of it.”
“Fenris took the train, I presume?” remarked the birdman. “Resourceful man.”
Ostara gave The Flying Fox an odd look and discretely pulled Ravana to one side.
“Why is Zotz dressed as some sort of superhero?” she asked, her voice hushed.
“It’s a long story!” Ravana whispered back. “Now we’re here, I’m not sure it was a good idea. Zotz is so much more confident as The Flying Fox, but to see him in action is like watching a really bad actor. Does that make sense?”
“What was that?” asked the birdman.
“He has bat-like hearing though,” murmured Ostara, making Ravana giggle.
Surya glanced up from the screen. “Are you coming to look at this?” he asked grumpily.
Ostara, Ravana and The Flying Fox went over to where Surya sat in the carriage. The railcar’s console was connected to the Dandridge Cole’s network. On its holovid screen they saw the familiar grinning features of Endymion, though given the circumstances Ravana was starting to find his perpetual air of blissful ignorance wearisome. Endymion was speaking into his wristpad, with Philyra visible in the shadows over his shoulder.
“Ravana!” greeted Endymion, when she moved into view. “Can I talk to you instead? The professor told me you’re studying engineering.”
“He thinks I’m stupid,” Surya said, speaking in a mock whisper.
“I never said that!”
“Tell Ravana what you found,” Ostara interrupted, sounding exasperated.
“Fenris’ slate,” Endymion declared. Behind him, Philyra held up the slate as if she were selling merchandise on a holovid shopping channel. “It contains technical information and plans for the Dandridge Cole. I think I’ve found what is causing the power drain!”
“Taranis is causing it,” Ravana replied wearily. “He’s holed up near Reactor A.”
“Okay, so you know that bit,” Endymion retorted irritably. “What you may not know is that he has linked the two fusion reactors together, bypassed the overload prevention circuits and switched off remote network access. Both reactors are now controlled solely by the console for Reactor A. The only way to put it right is to go into the engine room.”
“None of us know how to program fusion reactors!” exclaimed Ostara.
“I’ve studied basic maintenance,” Ravana told her, thinking of her classes with Professor Wak. “What about Hanuman? Is he on his way?”
“They’re still working on the Platypus,” Endymion replied, with a tinge of frustration. “As for the reactor controls, I may be able to talk you through it,” he said doubtfully.
Ravana looked glum. “Is there nothing else we can do?”
“We shall force Taranis to undo what he has done!” declared The Flying Fox.
“He doesn’t strike me as the sort of man who could be forced to do anything,” Ostara remarked. “Besides, we have Fenris to deal with too.”
“There is another option,” Endymion said cautiously. “The plans show that the reactor and engine assemblies were built as self-contained modules. The system is designed so that in an emergency the entire engine room can be ejected into space.”
“Gosh,” murmured Ostara. “That’s one way of disconnecting Taranis’ handiwork. What sort of emergency?”
“A meltdown?” suggested Endymion. “Something like that.”
“The reactor chamber is secured by explosive bolts,” said Ravana, remembering the red barrel-shaped devices on the wall in the other reactor room. “I saw them inside the engine room for Reactor B.”
“So we smash something vital then make a quick exit,” the birdman announced. “But will justice be done if we send Fenris and Taranis into deep space?”
“It gets my vote,” muttered Ravana.
“It’s not much of a plan,” mused Ostara. “But it is the only one we’ve got.”
*
Ostara turned from the spy hole in the hatch and regarded Ravana gravely, though it was hard to be serious with a cat bouncing up and down between them. The electric pet was trying to eat the fronds of purple fungus splaying from the air vent in the wall.
“Fenris has tried to blow us up once already,” said Ostara. “I’m pretty certain he and Taranis are not going to be pleased to see us. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Not really,” Ravana admitted. “But there’s four of us and only two of them.”
“Assuming we can get in,” added Surya. “When we tried earlier it would not open.”
“The hatch has been jammed from the inside,” declared The Flying Fox, who had already tried the door mechanism. The torch was at his feet, so all anyone else could see was a brightly-lit pair of red legs. “But do not fear! I shall prevail!”
Surya turned his own torch towards the hatch. The birdman grasped the wheel firmly in both hands and strained hard against the jammed lock. A thin whine was heard from his jet pack, then the feeble bulge of his biceps became impossibly impressive as the birdsuit’s electrically-powered muscles did their utmost to amplify the wearer’s own movements. There was a creak of metal and the wheel turned a fraction.
“Those fake muscles are very distracting,” murmured Ostara.
Ravana heard a note of approval in Ostara’s voice and smiled. The hatch gave another groan and then with a sudden bang the wheel began to spin freely in the birdman’s hand. Surya handed Ravana his own torch and went to help, then together they pulled open the hatch to reveal the short passage beyond.
The Flying Fox stepped over the fallen steel bar that had been jamming the lock, spun the handle on the second hatch and pushed it open. Beyond lay an eerie, green-tinged blackness. A damp smell gusted through the doorway and Ravana wrinkled her nose in disgust, then was almost swept off her feet as her frantically-meowing cat darted ahead with the fury of a piranha at feeding time.
“Jones!” she called. Her words vanished unanswered into the dark.
“That pet of yours needs its chips examined,” muttered Ostara.
“The lights were on in the other engine room,” Ravana murmured apprehensively.
“You want me to go first?” asked The Flying Fox.
As one, the other three nodded. Ravana handed the torch to the masked birdman and stood back as The Flying Fox defiantly followed the beam through the hatch.
The lights of the engine room abruptly blazed into life. Before any of them had time to react, a figure waiting beyond the hatch sprang out of hiding and pointed a gun at the birdman’s padded chest. The Flying Fox gave a startled yelp, dropped Surya’s torch to the floor and hurriedly raised his hands.
“Fenris!” he shrieked.
Ravana cursed and muttered something obscene about Fenris’ parentage.
“We have been expecting you,” snarled Fenris. He stepped closer and aimed the pistol at The Flying Fox’s head. “Though not in fancy dress. All of you, get in here!”
“There goes our plan,” sighed Ostara.
Ravana, Ostara and Surya cautiously stepped through the hatch and joined Fenris and his captive on the steel gallery. It took Ravana several moments to realise that the vast cylindrical cavern before them was indeed the double of the other engine room, for everything in sight was covered in purple mould or fungus, while vine-like growths masked every steel beam, ladder and walkway. Like the other room, the centre of the chamber was dominated by the spherical fusion reactor and its attendant network of conduits and pipes. The air was filled by the same strained humming, only this time it was accompanied by an
indistinct and almost human wailing that sent shivers down her spine. Her implant began to pick up vague shadows but nothing her mind could make any sense of.
“You’re a scumbag,” she said, glaring at Fenris. “A cowardly, evil little scumbag!”
“We are here to make you pay for your crimes,” added the birdman, though he sounded far from convinced. One look at the gun had made his artificial muscles wilt.
Fenris ignored them both. “My Raja,” he greeted, adopting a mocking tone. “So good of you to finally join us. Taranis was most disappointed when you declined his invitation.”
“Invitation?” Surya exclaimed, incredulous. “You tried to kill us!”
“Put the gun down, Fenris,” demanded Ostara. “You’re in enough trouble as it is.”
Ravana glanced towards the control console further along the balcony and then froze as Fenris turned and pointed the gun at her.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned. He nodded towards the flight of steps descending from the balcony. “Down there!” he barked.
When no one moved he placed the gun against Ravana’s ribs and gave her a push. Ostara mumbled something under her breath and moved towards the steps, The Flying Fox, Surya and Ravana close behind. Fenris kept his pistol aimed at their backs and did not follow until they had reached the bottom of the stairs.
Ahead rose the huge bulk of the fusion reactor. Ranged before it, nestling amongst the pipes and purple vines, were twelve glass tanks filled with a green bubbling liquid that masked the grey shape within each one. The vats were as high as Ravana herself and all were linked to a haphazard assemblage of laboratory equipment, which in turn was attached via heavy electrical cables to the fusion plant itself. An irritating dull drone filled the warm air as the parasitical vats feasted upon the reactor’s power.
“Where’s Taranis?” whispered Ravana.
She cautiously scanned the scene for any sign of the priest. Her gaze fell upon a pitiful sight. Half-hidden amidst the equipment was a cage barely two metres square, inside which a trembling creature stared back at her from almond-shaped eyes. It looked for all the worlds like a death-row prisoner as its spindly fingers clung helplessly to the bars. As their gazes met, Ravana did not need to see the beautiful blue markings on its skin to know it was the grey stranger from her childhood, the wounded traveller far from home.
“A grey!” murmured Surya, coming to her side. “They really do exist!”
Suddenly, Ostara shrieked. Something approached from behind the reactor.
Ravana turned and gasped in horror at the half man, half multi-limbed machine that now lurched towards them. The face below the metal skull plates was cruel and haggard with grey skin that hung in folds, yet from the waist down his body was that of a spider walker, the eight-legged mobility chairs she had seen on the streets of Hemakuta. Tubes cascaded from the man’s head and torso into the metal body of the walker, while the black chair upon which he sat seemed to blend seamlessly with the clothing he wore. Taranis was literally both man and machine, for there was no clear divide between where one ended and the other began.
“Ashtapada!” cried Ravana, gripped by the image of a huge mechanical spider.
“The mad priest himself!” Ostara looked shocked and stunned. “It is him, right?”
“That was the face on the holovid,” murmured Surya. He tried to hide behind her.
“I am Taranis!” the newcomer snapped. He sidled closer amidst a creepy contortion of metal limbs. “I have been waiting for you, Raja. I did not expect you to bring a retinue!”
“They are of no consequence,” said Fenris with a sneer. “I will deal with them in good time.”
“They are honoured to be here at the birth of a brave new world,” Taranis declared. “Today my disciples set forth and soon all will bow before the word of the greys!”
The scarlet-clad birdman, who up until now had been silently assessing the situation in the manner of a superhero both startled and annoyed, took a step forward.
“I am The Flying Fox!” he declared. “This madness ends now!”
He raised his fists and strode boldly towards the priest. Taranis shot him a disgusted glare and for an instant Ravana caught a flash of activity via her implant. The birdman gave a shriek of pain as an unseen force took his legs and cruelly splayed them wide. He collapsed into an untidy twitching heap on the floor.
“You fiend!” cried Ravana.
She dashed to her fallen hero and knelt to help him up into a sitting position, ignoring the threat of Fenris’ gun trained on her back. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied her cat dart from behind the nearest vat and towards the cage, its electric nose cautiously sniffing ahead. Taranis lumbered closer and paused.
“The mighty Ravana.” His voice was bitter. “You’re just a slip of a girl!”
“Well spotted,” she mumbled, more than a little perturbed.
“Your mother betrayed the faith!” he snarled. “She was the chosen one; destined to carry the future king of Lanka, born to unite Yuanshi and rid the moon of Que Qiao. I planned your life to the last detail,” he revealed. “You were to have the best schooling, the best training, the best of everything! You were to be the greatest leader and warrior Yuanshi had ever seen. It was I who named you Ravana, demon king! Then your whore of a mother goes and spoils it all by having the audacity to give birth to a girl!”
“How dare you speak ill of my mother!” Ravana retorted, now back on her feet.
“You gave Ravana her name?” asked Ostara. “She was teased dreadfully at school.”
Surya frowned. “Are you saying only boys can be great leaders and warriors?”
“That is the way of the greys!” snapped Fenris.
Ravana glanced towards the caged creature, which was gently stroking her cat with its outstretched grey fingers, then turned to the priest with a defiant stare.
“How can you revere the greys yet treat them so badly?” she demanded.
“They taught me that mind is all and flesh is a mere distraction,” Taranis said. “I was on a mission to a frontier planet when my ship was hit by a meteoroid. I was left stranded, trapped in the wreckage, with no prospect but death. It was they who rescued and repaired my shattered body, yet they saw no difference between my own mortal frame and the mechanical carriage I relied upon to get around. The result is what you see before you.”
“Yuck,” muttered Surya. “I am never going to one of their hospitals.”
“Do not mock the wisdom of the greys!” roared Taranis. “It was you, Ravana, who provided the new mother of destiny. My agents followed you into the woods that fateful day and saw you with the creature. It gave its body to provide the embryos for my disciples, in the same way that I have sacrificed my own flesh to the cause.”
“You took away my alien?” cried Ravana. “For your experiments? How could you?”
“Alien embryos and cloning vats,” murmured Ostara. She looked at the glass tanks and the thick cables running from the reactor. The part of her not terrified seemed rather pleased she had deduced Taranis’ plans so accurately. “I don’t like the way this is going.”
Unseen by all, Ravana’s cat had jumped onto the back of the priest’s spider-walker legs and was busily nibbling the tubes running down the walker’s mechanical spine. Abandoned by the cat, the caged creature stretched a hand towards something beyond its reach on top of a nearby crate, but continued to look at Ravana as if trying to draw her attention. Ravana glanced to the crate and was puzzled by the sight of a large old-fashioned book, then thought of the Isa-Sastra that Fenris had revealed was in Taranis’ possession. Meanwhile, The Flying Fox was back on his feet and more determined than ever.
“Whatever you are doing here, it has to stop!” he declared. He unhooked the high-tension lightning rod from his backpack and pressed a button on his wristpad to activate his smoke shield. “And I am the one to do it!”
“Zotz, no!” screamed Ravana.
Taranis smiled, then gave the m
asked birdman a stare so intense that his eyes seemed to flash fire. An intense bolt of pain shot through Ravana’s implant and with a shriek she fell to the floor, holding her head in her hands. A sudden whooshing noise filled the air as the birdman’s backpack unlatched itself, fired its rockets and soared away across the cavern, taking the smoke screen and lightning wand with it. When the fog cleared, Ravana looked up to see The Flying Fox kneeling before the priest and slapping himself around the face as hard as he could. The birdman’s mask hung in shreds and Zotz’s look of panic made it clear he had no control over his actions. All sorts of random visions flashed through Ravana’s mind and in a sudden blind rage she mentally lashed out and dashed the images to oblivion. Zotz’s hand stopped mid-slap and he fell wearily to the floor.
“Zotz!” wailed Ravana. She crawled across to where he lay. “Stop trying to be so brave!”
“What is going on?” cried Ostara. Behind her, Surya looked more scared than ever.
Taranis shuffled nearer and glowered at Ravana. She had fallen heavily on her weak right arm and the shrapnel wound in her shoulder had begun to bleed once more. Yet she remained defiant as she climbed to her feet and stood before the priest. Her hope had been unexpectedly rekindled by the sight of her cat chewing away behind Taranis’ back.
“Crude but effective,” the priest murmured, unaware of the electric pet’s presence. “I had forgotten it had been arranged for the young demon king to have such an implant.”
“What?” exclaimed Ravana.
“A minor oversight,” Fenris acknowledged. “I see now that Namtar and Inari acted too soon because it was the girl’s implant they detected at the palace, not that of the Raja.”
“Two oversights,” Ostara pointed out. “Ravana’s cat sniffed out this secret lair.”
“That makes me number three,” came a woman’s voice from behind.
Ravana, Surya, Ostara and Fenris turned to see Maharani Uma standing on the gallery near the hatch, calmly gazing down at the scene before her. Taranis had seen her enter and was already shuffling sideways towards the bottom of the stairs. Ravana heard a groan at her feet and saw her crumpled hero trying to sit up.
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