Steph Bennion - Hollow Moon

“Where are we going?” asked Bellona.

“We? I’m going to drop by work,” he told his sister, coming to a standstill. His latest job was as an apprentice ground crew operative at space-traffic control, which more often than not involved making tea for everyone else. “I don’t know where you’re going.”

“Can’t we come with you?” asked Philyra. “I’m bored.”

Endymion gave a non-committal shrug and carried on walking, Bellona and Philyra trotting behind him. Soon they were passing through the main departure lounge, where around two dozen people were waiting to board a flight to CSS Stellarbridge , Ascension’s orbital space dock. The small delta-winged shuttle was visible through the window, parked in the hangar outside the lounge but still within the spaceport dome. Ghostly monochrome advertising holograms drifted through the room on a wave of banal chatter as each tried to sell upgraded hotel bookings and last-minute insurance to the travellers. Endymion glanced at the waiting crowd and then groaned, recognising them as students and tutors from the academy at Bradbury Heights. As he and the girls hurried past, three of the students left the group and stood in their path, blocking their way.

“Xuthus!” murmured Philyra, fluttering her eyelashes at the boy in front.

“Whoopee,” muttered Bellona. The girl beside him was Maia.

Xuthus, Maia and the boy with them all wore distinctive black and gold flight suits, no doubt bought especially for the trip to Daode. The spray-tanned American families who lived in Bradbury Heights all had some connection with the large pharmaceutical companies based there and as such benefited from the high salaries paid. Unfortunately, there were always those who revelled in displaying their wealth. Endymion scowled.

“Clear off, Xuthus,” he growled. “I’ve seen enough slimy bugs in the Ravines today without needing to look at you too.”

Xuthus gave a hollow laugh. “Well, if it isn’t the mighty players of Newbrum,” he said scornfully. “The entire band, in fact. All three of you.”

“It’s not size that matters,” retorted Endymion. “It’s what you do with it. At least, that’s what your girlfriend told me.”

“Whatever,” snapped Xuthus.

“It’s a shame you couldn’t come on our flight,” said the other boy, a short and rather rotund figure, who addressed Endymion with mock sympathy. “We’re on the Fenghuang III , a proper interstellar cruiser with separate cabins and everything.”

“I’ve heard of that ship,” said Philyra. “The captain is a pirate who dumps his passengers into the nearest black hole if they don’t laugh at his jokes. Oh, don’t worry, Lodus,” she added, as the boy looked worried. “There isn’t a black hole in the universe big enough to throw you into.”

“Did you get my message?” asked Maia, leering at Bellona.

Bellona gave her a withering look. Endymion heard her mutter something about a freak falling planetoid dislodging Maia’s smug smile, or perhaps even doing it herself.

“Maia, my dear,” Bellona said sweetly. “You really should get a new wristpad. The holovid you sent me did not do justice to your beauty.”

“Really?” Maia tossed her immaculate blond coiffure, genuinely flattered.

Bellona nodded. “Close up you’re far more ugly.”

“Girls! Calm down!” cried Endymion, as Maia leapt angrily towards Bellona. Behind him, Philyra winked at Lodus, then giggled. The boy responded with a grin. “Put your claws away! See, even Lodus can see it was just a joke!”

“Were you laughing at me?” Maia asked fiercely, turning on Lodus.

Lodus shook his head, suddenly very nervous. “Me? No. Never!”

“Yes you were!”

“I was laughing with you, not at you.”

Endymion gave Bellona a nudge. “I think it’s time we left,” he whispered.

Leaving Xuthus to deal with the squabbling Maia and Lodus, Endymion led Bellona and Philyra towards the sliding doors at the far side of the departure lounge. He was almost at the exit when he paused, then a mischievous grin crept upon his face as his eyes fell upon a touch-screen terminal on a nearby wall. After quickly checking to make sure there were no spaceport personnel about, Endymion retrieved a short cable from his pocket and connected his wristpad to the terminal.

“Xuthus is quite cute,” said Philyra dreamily. “For a Bradbury Heights boy.”

“I’d like to shove his violin where the sun doesn’t shine,” Endymion muttered. There was a rebellious glint in his eye. His fingers were a blur upon his wristpad.

“What are you doing?” asked Bellona. On the wall-mounted screen, the holovid advert for rock-climbing tours of Mars’ Olympus Mons changed to a floor plan of the spaceport. She looked down at his wristpad. “Oh no,” she murmured. “You wouldn’t.”

A hissing of running water suddenly filled the air, a sound quickly drowned by loud screams from the departure lounge behind. Moments later they saw Maia run past, her blond hair now extremely bedraggled and dripping wet. More of the Bradbury Heights party followed to escape the sudden downpour inside the lounge. As Endymion, Bellona and Philyra watched, a spaceport security guard ran past them into the fray, getting soaked in the process. Philyra was helpless with laughter, leaving Endymion to grab the dumbstruck Bellona and hustle them away through the doors. The grin on his face grew wider by the minute.

“That was fun!” he exclaimed.

“What did you do?” asked Philyra, once they were out of sight of the guard.

“I set off the sprinklers!” Endymion said gleefully. “I thought I’d dampen their spirits a little. Give them a proper send off.”

“You are awful,” Bellona told him. Her brother caught her secret smile, as if she regretted not getting a picture of Maia running past with her expensive hairdo ruined.

“How did you manage that?” Philyra inquired. Endymion could tell she was trying not to sound impressed. Her wristpad was no different to his own.

“I have a whole load of hackware hidden on the servermoon,” he told her, coming to a halt before the door to a lift. Ascension’s servermoon, a kilometre-wide orbiting data satellite, not only provided Newbrum with all the data storage it would ever need but also an extra-dimensional transceiver array linked to servermoons in other star systems.

Endymion led them into the lift, swiped his security pass across a reader on the control panel and pressed the top button. The lift shook badly on its short journey to the second floor but soon they were piling out into a large, circular room in which half a dozen people were working in front of computer terminals with large screens. Windows rose on all sides, half of which looked inside the dome to give a birds-eye view of the spaceport hangar. The rest provided a panoramic vista of the main runway and coastal plains to the north.

“Gosh,” murmured Bellona. “Nice view.”

“Spaceport control,” Endymion announced. “This is where I work.”

“Endymion Ezenduka! Have you being setting off the fire sprinklers again?”

Startled, Endymion saw a tall, middle-aged English woman bear down upon him with a disapproving stare. From the blonde hair fixed in a bun down to her highly-polished boots, she cut an imposing figure in her corporate suit of navy skirt and jacket. She was clearly not pleased to see Endymion, but not many people were.

“Administrator Verdandi,” stuttered Endymion. “I didn’t expect…”

“Thought you’d give your friends a quick tour while the boss was away?” suggested Verdandi, sternly. “I am here on official business, so please try and behave.”

Endymion stared meekly at the floor. “Of course, Administrator.”