Hollow Moon (38 page)

Ahead was yet another doorway. From the schematic
displayed on the slate in her hand Ravana saw they had nearly reached the cell
block. All of a sudden, the door before them opened and two figures stepped
through.

“Stop right there!” roared Dana, raising a gun. Beside
her stood a young boy, whom after a split second of confusion Ostara and Ravana
both realised was Surya’s cyberclone. “Drop your weapon. You are both under
arrest!”

“Don’t shoot!” Ostara cried. Much to her shame, what
little bravado she had mustered upon stepping foot in the palace had evaporated
at the sight of Dana’s gun.

Ravana stood in stunned silence. Her implant had locked
onto the cell-block security system and to her amazement her mind’s eye could
see the camera feeds from all eight cells. Flicking through them one by one,
she gazed in sorrow at the crumpled, dejected prisoners and suddenly came
across a joyous sight. The familiar bearded figure of her father was in cell
seven, looking weak yet defiant. It was galling to think she was so close to
him yet so far. Beside her, Ostara knelt down and placed Hanuman’s pistol upon
the floor.

“Kick it over here,” ordered Dana, keeping her own weapon
trained upon them.

“As hard as you can,” whispered Ravana. “Aim for the door
behind her.”

Ostara gave her a puzzled look, then booted the pistol
across the floor, sending it ricocheting off the wall and onwards down the
corridor. Just as it neared the door it clipped the cyberclone’s foot, then
passed smoothly through the doorway to the cells beyond. Dana stepped forward,
looking far from impressed.

“O’Brien has quite the resourceful little daughter,” she
remarked. “After you gave me the slip in Hemakuta I never expected you to turn
up here. Did I hear Fenris singing?”

“There is much happening that is most irregular,”
commented the cyberclone.

“I’ve come for my father,” Ravana said calmly. Her
implant had found the circuit she wanted and unbeknown to Dana, every cell door
in the block beyond was sliding open. “It’s been a long day and I’m no mood for
games. You would be wise to stay out of my way.”

Dana laughed. “Is that a threat?”

She heard a noise behind her and froze. Ostara gave a
little squeak of surprise as a figure appeared out of the shadows behind Dana,
then another, all closing in on her in a quiet wave of rage. With pride in his
step, the pilot of the
Platypus
strode
from amongst them, picked up Hanuman’s pistol and placed it to the agent’s
head.

“Actually,” said Quirinus, “what my daughter said was
more a warning.”

“Father!” cried Ravana.

“You won’t get away with this,” Dana replied coolly.

Lowering her gun, she dropped it to the floor, then calmly
reached out and hit the alarm button upon the wall.

The noise was deafening. The wail of sirens, thud of
boots and barked orders of guards merged with a cacophony of screams and shouts
that surged through the palace in an uncontrolled explosion of mayhem. Amidst
the chaos, a masked birdman strode forth, wreathed in the thick cloak of fog
his backpack had added to the confusion. Que Qiao agents who got in his way
were effortlessly thrown aside by a bolt from his lightning rod or a casual
sweep of artificially-enhanced muscles, or found their plasma weapons rendered
useless by the electromagnetic charges exploding in his wake.

Prisoners ran amok in a frenzied attempt to flee the
building. The surveillance network refused to cooperate. The agent in charge of
security, conspicuous by her absence, would be found hours later inexpertly
bound, gagged and locked in one of her own cells.

The scarlet-clad warrior, guided by his infra-red
goggles, reached the fog-bound grand staircase. With a dramatic flourish, he
heroically held out his hand to the girl struggling to lead her rescue party up
through the smoke.

“What the hell are you doing here?” exclaimed Ravana,
startled.

“The Flying Fox at your service!” the birdman declared.
“Follow me!”

Blinded by the thick smoke and a piercing headache,
Ravana had no option but to grab the offered glove and follow. Her other hand
firmly gripped that of her father, who in turn held onto Ostara. Surya’s
cyberclone could navigate perfectly well through the fog but was not programmed
to take the initiative, so in Dana’s absence simply decided to follow another
set of familiar faces.

The masked hero led them quickly along the corridor
towards the exit, which Ravana had fortuitously forgotten to close after
unlocking it earlier. There was a loud crash as a door behind them flew open
and they were suddenly joined by an extremely enraged Fenris.

“Don’t leave me in this place!” he roared.

Moments later, they charged through the door at the far
end of the security lobby and spilled breathlessly out onto the runway. To add
to the confusion they were surprised to find Namtar and Inari waiting for them,
even more so when Hanuman and Ganesa suddenly turned up driving a stolen
open-top ground car. Fenris made an ill-mannered grab for the Raja and quickly
bundled himself and the boy into the rear seat of the car.

“Hanuman!” cried Quirinus. “Ganesa! Is all this your
doing?”

“Thank your daughter!” Hanuman called over to Quirinus.
“We were happy to help a friend in need. Your ship is fuelled and ready to go!”

“What is going on?” exclaimed Ostara. Namtar and Inari
climbed into the ground car after Fenris, eager to leave.

“Inari blew up the hoverbus,” said Ganesa. “We needed
another way out of here.”

In the sudden rush to escape, Ravana had lost sight of
the birdsuit-clad figure and now there was nothing but a plume of smoke across
the runway to show where her saviour had been. A whine of distant turbines
reached her ears and she saw a sinister-looking Que Qiao ground car racing
towards them with sirens wailing. On the other side of the airstrip, the robot
refuelling gantry next to the
Platypus
was
retreating into its underground bunker to leave the runway clear for take-off.

“Go!” yelled Quirinus. He passed the borrowed pistol back
to Hanuman. “Thanks for everything. I just hope next time we meet it is in more
civilised circumstances!”

Hanuman grinned. With a roar of turbines, the stolen
ground car shot off like a bullet from a gun, racing in a wide arc towards the
approaching vehicle to divert the pursuers from the
Platypus
and its crew. Quirinus, Ravana and Ostara ran as fast
as they could towards the waiting spacecraft. Two figures frantically waved at
them from the smoke-filled airlock door.

Ravana reached the cargo bay ahead of the others and made
it up the ladder, through the crawl tunnel and onto the flight deck in record
time.

“Ship!” she yelled. “Start the engines!”

The thrusters fired almost instantly. An almighty roar
bellowed through the open airlock and the spacecraft shuddered into life, shaking
the tendrils dangling from the console and knocking Ravana off her feet and
into the co-pilot’s seat. Then her father was beside her, rapidly running his
fingers over the console as he prepared the
Platypus
for take-off.

“Main engines running in air-breathing mode,” the AI
confirmed, sounding almost smug. “Good to have you back aboard, Captain
Quirinus.”

“It’s good to be back,” he replied. He winked at Ravana.
“Let’s get out of here.”

The agents in pursuit of the stolen ground car proved to be
remarkably persistent. Finding all exit roads blocked, Hanuman forced their car
ever quicker along parkland tracks that were no more than footpaths until
finally they could go no further. The ground car was not designed for off-road
use and their frantic dash through the rugged terrain had shook it almost to
destruction. Forced to abandon the smoking vehicle, they were hurrying away
through the surrounding woodland on foot when they were abruptly deafened by
the sound of a spacecraft blasting its way skywards.

“They made it!” exclaimed Ganesa.

“What about us?” retorted Fenris. “It is imperative we
get the Raja to Hemakuta!”

The figure at his side had been badly shaken by the rough
off-road escape and without warning suddenly fell to the floor, trembling fitfully.
Fenris uttered a yelp of dismay and dropped to his knees in a panic.

“Raja!” he cried. “What is wrong? Are you wounded?”

“Dislocated motherboard,” the cyberclone whispered. A
thin wisp of smoke issued forth from his right ear. “Reboot me!”

Fenris lifted his head and screamed. “Idiots! We’ve got
the wrong Raja!”

COMMANDER KARTIKEYA stared out across the packed
auditorium and tried not to panic. The stage lights masked the individual faces
of the seated audience, but that did not stop him being acutely aware of the
thousand or so eyes directly upon him, plus the several million more watching
from across the five systems through the wonders of holovid broadcast
technology, all awaiting his response. Yet the carefully-prepared closing
speech on the rostrum before him was now worthless. His cunning plan had come
to nothing, leaving him all alone before all the worlds with nothing to say.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Yaksha speaking
into her headset as she watched from the wings to his left. Her voice in
Kartikeya’s earpiece once again whispered the words that had rooted him to the
spot.

“I repeat, Fenris is not coming,” said Yaksha.

Governor Jaggarneth leaned forward upon his own rostrum
and regarded Kartikeya with a smug, self-satisfied smile. His secretary had
eavesdropped upon the hushed backstage conversation amongst Kartikeya’s
entourage and relayed the news to him also. His own devious scheme to bring
chaos to the peace conference also rested upon the Raja’s surprise appearance,
but he seemed happy to settle for watching the rebel leader squirm.

Beside him, the statuesque female presenter of
News
120
, the Yuanshi-based politics show,
quickly sensed the hesitation and stepped in to fill the gap.

“Commander Kartikeya, do you not think this is a valid
point?” she asked. “Would Yuanshi not be better served by a government modelled
on twenty-third century corporate lines, rather than on what most would see as
out-dated concepts of tradition?”

Kartikeya stared helplessly across the stage. He
recognised her words as the gist of Jaggarneth’s last argument but was unable to
recollect him actually saying it. Looking down at his rostrum, he
half-heartedly read the first few lines of the speech on his slate screen but
knew he could no longer expect inspiration from that quarter. The military man
inside him realised he was cornered. With a grim resolve he decided to come out
fighting.

“We are not here to decide which is the best way to
govern,” he declared. “My own belief is this is something only the people of
Yuanshi can decide. I have come to this conference in good faith, to seek peace
and a settlement that offers the best for all!”

Unseen behind the curtain across the stage, Miss Clymene
and the three remaining players of the Newbrum Academy band sat listening as
they waited for their own turn in the spotlight. Hearing Kartikeya’s words,
Endymion looked at Bellona and pulled a face.

“Seek peace, my ass!” he whispered. “Start a revolution,
more like!”

“I heard someone backstage mention Fenris,” Bellona
murmured. “The people who came with the rebel leader seem very upset. Has there
been any word from the others?”

“Nothing since the message Zotz sent me an hour ago,”
Endymion told her. “If they were on their final approach as he said, they
should have landed by now.”

Miss Clymene put a finger to her lips. “Hush!”

Philyra stared forlornly at Ravana’s cornet and Zotz’s
theremin, which they had placed upon the two empty seats in a moment of wishful
thinking. Hearing a muted snigger, she glanced over her shoulder and saw
Xuthus, Lodus and Maia standing in the doorway of the backstage dressing room,
pointing at the Newbrum band and giggling. She was just about to respond with a
suitable hand gesture when Endymion’s wristpad beeped.

“A message?” asked Miss Clymene hopefully.

Endymion looked at his wristpad and nodded. “They’re here!”

As one, four pairs of eyes turned expectantly towards the
backstage door.

On stage, the headline debate of the conference
floundered. Kartikeya was struggling to maintain his composure in the face of
Jaggarneth’s flamboyant yet distracting rhetorical onslaught.

“I have not come to this gathering to kill the
thunderworm that lays the golden egg,” Jaggarneth was saying. “We all know the
fear of bad government can seem like too many molecularisors frying the
dessert. The Que Qiao Corporation will of course consider all proposals for a
preliminary cooperative arrangement to examine the options for the strategic
delivery of a democratic extra-dimensional flight path to peace.”

Kartikeya blinked. “Does that mean you are open to
negotiations?”

“I am not about to topple our rockets and reject the
bible black of infinity,” the governor replied, smiling graciously. “Nor am I
here to put the cat amongst the blood yerks. It is not wise to put all our
isotopes in one reactor. The procurement of effective government is not
something that can be forced through a quantum gate, as I’m sure you will
agree.”

Despite not understanding a word Jaggarneth was saying,
Kartikeya found himself nodding. Just as he was starting to lose the will to
live, the voice in his ear crackled again.