Hollow Moon (7 page)

He beamed, waiting for a reaction to his joke. Endymion
shrugged, looking baffled. Bellona and Philyra turned away, embarrassed by an
adult’s attempt at humour.

“That’s very amusing,” said Miss Clymene slowly, eyeing
the scientist carefully.

“Other people think so,” he muttered. “To conclude, the
impact was enough to give Ascension days and nights; though as you know, days
here are much longer than they are on Earth or Taotie. This is also why the sun
rises in the west rather than the east.”

“Why would it rise in the east?” asked Philyra. “That’s
stupid.”

“That’s enough questions,” Miss Clymene snapped. She
turned to their host. “Thank you for your time. It has been most educational,
but I’m sure you have lots of lovely scientific things to do. I was hoping to
meet up with a friend of mine who works here. When I spoke to him this morning
he promised to show us the meteor that came down in the Ravines.”

“Was it a big one?” asked Endymion. “I can’t wait to see
it.”

The scientist looked apologetic. “That may not be
possible,” he confessed. “The area is off limits at the moment. It’s not what
we thought it was.”

“It’s not a meteor?” asked Bellona. “What is it then?”

“I’ve already said too much,” the scientist admitted.

“Perhaps we should just head for the camp and get some
rest,” said Miss Clymene. “I’ll catch up with my friend tomorrow and ask if we
can come and see the meteor next time.”

“Next time?” Endymion looked downcast. “It won’t be here
next time.”

“In my experience, when meteors fall down, they stay down,”
the teacher said firmly. “Now, say thank you to the nice scientist for showing
you his hologram.”

“Thank you Mister Scientist,” intoned Endymion, Bellona
and Philyra.

Miss Clymene nodded courteously to the scientist, who
looked a little bemused. They received few visitors at the Ravines, unless you
counted the shadowy grey figures his colleague was convinced lived out in the
jungle.

“I hope it was educational,” he replied. “Good luck with
the camping!”

Before long, they reached their camp for the night, which
was an inflatable dome permanently pegged to the ground in a small clearing not
far from the research station. The concept of ‘night’ was largely artificial;
as the scientist had noted, days were long on this strange world. Ascension took
the equivalent of fourteen Terran days to rotate just once on its axis. In
contrast, the planet was so close to Barnard’s Star that it positively hurled
around the star, taking just three Terran weeks to complete each orbit. This
also meant that the relatively-small Barnard’s Star looked six times bigger
from the surface of Ascension than Sol did from Earth, though the weak daylight
offered by the ancient red dwarf was nowhere near as bright. Ascension’s orbit
and rotation, along with its backwards rotation, resulted in a day that lasted
on average eighty-four hours, followed by a further eighty-four hours of night.
The native plants of the Eden Ravines had long evolved to cope, but human
biology was not so adaptable and remained firmly wedded to the old day-and-night
cycles of Earth.

Therefore, even though the sun was almost directly
overhead, the twenty-four-hour clocks of their wristpads were telling them it
was getting close to bedtime. The journey out to the gloomy Ravines had been
long and they were all tired. Bellona and Philyra sat outside the dome,
munching upon the contents of their pack lunches while Endymion sat to one side
with his stomach rumbling. Miss Clymene had just arrived back at the camp after
having returned briefly to the research station. In her hand she held a small
metal canister, from which emanated an odour not unlike mushroom soup. Endymion
eyed it hungrily.

“You’re in luck, Endymion!” Miss Clymene declared. “It
just so happens that the scientists have discovered a plant in the Ravines that
isn’t toxic to humans. What’s more, they’ve kindly made some into soup for you.
Isn’t that nice of them?”

Endymion took the canister from her and opened the lid.
The steaming liquid inside was a luminous shade of grey with orange lumps
floating upon the surface. Close up, the smell was not so pleasant and so
strong he wanted to gag.

“Yuck!” exclaimed Endymion. “It looks like a can of cat
vomit!”

“I did tell you not to forget your pack lunch,” Miss
Clymene pointed out, sitting down beside them. “Well, that’s the alternative.
Maybe next time you will remember to take notice of what I say.”

“Yes, Miss Clymene,” muttered Endymion, meekly. Holding
his nose, he took a sip of the soup and cringed. “Actually, this isn’t bad.”

“Really?” Philyra was curious.

“No,” he admitted. “It tastes revolting.”

After they finished eating, Miss Clymene pulled out her
slate to catch up on her work. They were supposed to be departing for Daode in
two Terran days’ time but spaceport customer services at Newbrum had still not
found them a flight to Epsilon Eridani. Endymion’s earlier comment about
sharing a shuttle with Bradbury Heights had touched a nerve, as their rivals
had chartered the only interstellar cruiser currently docked at Ascension and
made it clear there were no spare seats for the Newbrum school band. It soon
transpired that this was not a problem she could resolve right now.

“No signal,” she sighed, tossing aside the slate in mock
disgust. The bottom of the Eden Ravines was out of range of Newbrum’s
transmitters and all she was getting was the scientists’ local network, which
was sluggish and confounding her attempts to link to the wider net.

Philyra looked at her own wristpad in disgust. “How can
you not get the holovid channels here?” she complained. “This place is the
pits!”

“Exactly,” said Endymion. “A great big deep dark pit.
That’s why there’s no signal.”

“But this is inhumane! How dare they take away my
Gods
of Avalon
!”

“It’s just a holovid programme,” murmured Bellona, then
jumped as Philyra shot her a look dripping with venom.

“Just a holovid programme! How can you say that?” she
retorted. “I’m going to miss the vote on Sonja versus the Dethridge Demons!”

“How can you watch holovids on such a small screen?”
asked Bellona. Her lack of enthusiasm for the media capabilities of a wristpad
was partly due to a childhood ear infection, which had left her unable to have
the cochlear implant necessary to listen to broadcasts without plugging in
earphones. She found the amount of time Philyra spent glued to her wristpad
somewhat disturbing.

“I’m sure a few hours without net access won’t kill us,”
Miss Clymene said brightly, standing up. “We could all do with an early night.
Can I trust you all to get some sleep and not to go wandering off into the
jungle?”

Bellona looked fearfully into the trees. “Are we safe
here?”

“As long as you leave the strange vegetation alone,” Miss
Clymene confirmed.

“And the alien plants leave us alone,” added Endymion.

Philyra gulped. Miss Clymene gave him a withering look,
then disappeared inside the inflatable dome and out of sight. Bellona scowled
at her brother, who promptly turned his back on her to instead absorb himself
in something on his wristpad.

“What are you doing?” she asked at last. “I thought there
was no signal down here.”

“Hacking into the scientists’ network.”

When he failed to elaborate, Philyra edged across and
peered over his shoulder, then shrugged. Bellona waited a little longer before
asking the obvious question.

“Why?”

“I want to see where that meteor landed.”

A hush descended once more upon their camp, until all
they could hear was the tap-tapping of Endymion’s fingers upon his wristpad’s
screen.

“Is he always this talkative?” Philyra asked Bellona.

“The life and soul of the party.”

Endymion appeared to have found what he sought. Standing
up, he shuffled around in a circle, looking at his wristpad as he did so, then
stopped.

“That way,” he declared, pointing into the jungle.
“Coming?”

“Yeah, why not,” said Philyra, climbing to her feet. “I’m
bored,” she explained, seeing Bellona’s look of surprise. “And not in the least
bit tired.”

“It’s not far,” Endymion told Bellona. “I got the
coordinates and a map of the Ravines from the scientists’ database. It can’t be
more than a kilometre away.”

The prospect of a mini adventure did not appeal to
Bellona at all, but the thought of being left behind at the camp with no one
but Miss Clymene for company was possibly worse, particularly now she could
hear her teacher’s gentle snores drifting through the open door of the dome.
Bellona reluctantly stood up and came to her brother’s side.

Endymion picked up his radiation cloak and grinned.
“Follow me!”

Following the map on his wristpad, he led them away from
the camp and towards the edge of the jungle surrounding the research station.
Philyra fell in step behind him, leaving Bellona to bring up the rear. Although
the sun remained high, once they slipped beneath the cool leafy canopy it
became too dark to see more than a few steps ahead and Endymion soon had to
rely on the tiny display on his wristpad for directions. The black and purple
foliage grew more dense and chaotic the further they walked and before long
they had to force their way through the twisted undergrowth to make progress.

Faint slithering sounds and the distant screeches of unseen
creatures kept their nerves jangling. Bellona screamed as a huge black insect,
at least a metre long and looking like a cross between a centipede and a
scorpion, suddenly shot across her path just centimetres from her foot. She had
already decided that Philyra was acting far too serenely for someone scared
stiff of the Terran spiders that had taken up residence in Newbrum’s dome.
Endymion himself appeared oblivious to everything apart from the image on his
wristpad.

“This is stupid,” mumbled Bellona.

For what seemed the millionth time, she untangled her
hair from a spiny purple stem she was sure had been chasing her through the
overhanging foliage. Her companions did not appear to be having any problems
negotiating the undergrowth and she was convinced the jungle was singling her
out for attention. It did not help that she only had one free hand, for the
other clung to her radiation cloak as if her life depended upon it. Philyra
wore hers with an air of casual confidence that made the baggy lead-lined cape
look like the height of fashion.

Ahead, Endymion had stopped. “This is it,” he whispered.
“Look!”

They had reached the edge of another clearing. Philyra
and Bellona peered over his shoulder to where he pointed, expecting to see a
small crater with a smouldering meteor at its centre. What they actually saw
was nothing of the sort.

“It’s a spaceship,” murmured Bellona, surprised. “What’s
it doing here?”

Endymion stepped out of the jungle and slowly approached
the spacecraft. It was a lunar-class exploration vessel, consisting of a large
spherical hull standing upon four landing struts with a single booster engine
at its base. The lower half of the hull was an open frame that held a
cylindrical-shaped object on one side of the engine and a heavy-duty winch on
the other. One of the slanting struts had a ladder attached, above which an
open hatch in the side of the hull offered a tantalising glimpse of the
spacecraft’s interior.

“The
Nellie Chapman
,”
remarked Philyra, reading the legend on the side of the hull.

“It’s an asteroid mining ship,” Endymion told her. “You
can see the Astromole drilling machine in the cradle underneath.”

“I didn’t know people were mining in the Ravines,”
remarked Bellona.

“They’re not,” replied Endymion. “Or at least they’re not
supposed to be. It’s protected territory. You’re not even allowed to fly in the
area.”

“So what’s it doing here?” asked Philyra.

“No idea,” Endymion murmured. Bellona saw his eyes were
upon the gaping hatchway. “Do you think there’s anyone inside?”

He started to walk across the charred ground towards the
bottom of the ladder. Bellona ran after him and put a hand to his arm.

“Wait! Are you sure it’s safe?”

“No,” he admitted, grinning. “But I’m only going to
look.”

“Be careful not to press any buttons,” Philyra called
out. “You might fly off!”

“Don’t give him ideas,” muttered Bellona.

Endymion reached the bottom of the ladder and began to
climb. The hatch was at least five metres up but before long he was peering
cautiously through the opening, looking for any signs of life. The entrance
airlock and the cabin beyond appeared to be deserted. He turned and gave
Philyra and his sister a brief wave, then clambered inside.

He had never been in a mining ship before and was
surprised at the sparse flight deck. Everything looked extremely solid and
built to last, with the only concession to comfort being the padded cushions
upon the pilot’s and co-pilot’s seats. The
Nellie Chapman
was designed for the rough-and-tumble of prospecting
on rocky worlds and to survive the odd crash landing. It was not the ship of
choice for a long cruise around the star system.

The flight computer had a heavy-duty keyboard with
oversized keys for use by someone wearing a spacesuit. Endymion found the power
switch and watched the display screen glow into life, then jumped at the sound
of an unexpected loud click from under the console. He was curious as to why
the mining ship was in the Eden Ravines and it only took him a moment to call
up the navigation system and download the flight log to his wristpad. It was
then he spied a small foil-wrapped carton lying on top of the console and
recognising it for what it was, hungrily picked it up and stuffed it into a
pocket.