Hollow Moon (42 page)

“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
bunch 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!”

RAVANA GAZED NUMBLY at the sight of the stricken
Platypus
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.”

The hovertruck skimmed low over the deserted fields,
keeping close to the monorail track as it headed towards Dockside. The crops
below looked pale and stunted in the light of the truck’s headlamps and it was
clear the hollow moon had suffered greatly in their absence. Dotted around the
fields were abandoned mobile light and heat generators, brought out by farmers
in a desperate attempt to save the harvest, but they were no substitute for the
once raging power of the simulated sun. The ecosystem of any artificial world
was a precarious balance between Mother Nature and human ingenuity at the best
of times.

The hovertruck settled to a halt outside one of the
maintenance bays. The door to the workshop opened and a figure suddenly ran out
and away down the road. Moments later, two others appeared at the door in hot
pursuit of the first, then upon seeing the hovertruck gave up the chase and
instead approached the parked truck.