Steph Bennion - Hollow Moon

“These people are living in a cave,” remarked Philyra.

“One flying through space,” Endymion pointed out.

“But a cave nonetheless,” mused Miss Clymene. “It is a little weird.”

“The freighter that brought us here was odd too,” said Endymion. “A real mongrel. Everywhere I looked there were bits from other ships that had been modified to fit. I’ve never known a spacecraft that small to have a centrifugal passenger cabin.”

“The girl with the scar on her face was flying it part of the way,” said Bellona with a tinge of jealousy. “She can’t be much older than me.”

“It’s a shame the pilot is so dead against going to Epsilon Eridani,” said Miss Clymene and sighed. Somewhat optimistically she and her students had come prepared for a week-long trip to Daode, even going so far as to say their farewells to friends and family on Ascension, but after broaching the subject to Quirinus during their flight to the Dandridge Cole she was not hopeful. “For a moment I thought we’d found us a ship. The man Fenris was very interested in the peace conference and wished us all the best in the competition.”

“If we ever get there,” murmured Philyra gloomily.

“Don’t give up hope!” exclaimed Miss Clymene. “I have a feeling the people of this strange world brought us here for a reason.”

“They did mention an invite to dinner,” Bellona reminded her.

“Perhaps we’re the main course,” said Endymion. “They may all be cannibals.”

He grinned. Philyra and Bellona had gone wide-eyed in fright.

Maharani Uma settled into the velvet cushions of her chair and regarded the object upon the table before her with suspicion. Fenris stood at her side, momentarily distracted by the faint sound of voices coming from the palace gardens outside the window. Professor Wak was close to finding the other end of the tunnel the Raja’s kidnappers had used in their escape and had brought a couple of maintenance robots to the courtyard, though as yet they had only succeeded in breaking the trunk off the stone elephant plugging the hole.

Their visitors from Newbrum had been encouraged to walk the grounds ahead of dinner. The Maharani had an important call to make and was not in the mood for exchanging social pleasantries.

Upon the table was a small flat case, the lid of which was open so that the Maharani could directly face the holovid screen concealed within. The Dandridge Cole boasted its own low-power extra-dimensional transceiver array, liberated from the disused emergency communications centre at Lan-Tlanto, which provided the hollow moon with a link to the Ascension servermoon and thus the interstellar network. The screen relayed the image of a neatly-dressed bureaucrat with pale skin, dark thinning hair and clean-shaven features. The man’s sumptuous surroundings reflected that despite his innocuous appearance, he was one of the most powerful people in the Epsilon Eridani system. The Maharani was rather annoyed to see that the man was in fact sitting at the desk that used to be hers in her old home, the Palace of Sumitra in Ayodhya.

“How dare he use my office!” she hissed to Fenris. “The cheek of the man!”

Fenris leant forward and addressed her in a low voice. “He can hear you, Maharani.”

“Indeed I can,” said the man on the screen, his Eastern European tones not unlike Fenris’ own. He allowed himself a small triumphant smile. “To what do I owe this honour, my exiled queen? It is good to see that you have not entirely abandoned the modern world.”

“I have no time for pleasantries, Jaggarneth,” snapped the Maharani. “What have you done with my son? What sort of game are you and your Que Qiao minions playing this time?”

Jaggarneth’s smile faded. “Are you accusing me, the governor of Yuanshi, of kidnap? This relationship is a three-way orbit and I do not take kindly to slander.”

“I was told you had news,” retorted the Maharani. “If not about my son, then what?”

“I have made enquiries on your behalf,” Jaggarneth told her. His manner had softened in recognition of the Maharani’s genuine concern. “My sources suggest the young Raja has been taken by terrorist agents working for Kartikeya and is being held in Lanka, possibly in an attempt to derail the peace conference. You may rest assured that Que Qiao in Ayodhya are giving it one hundred and ten per cent to bring your son to safety.”

“I am sorry I accused you so,” said the Maharani, a little subdued. “My son means everything to me. It was fated that he would one day return to Yuanshi, but not like this.”

“Your desire to see an end to your exile is well known,” Jaggarneth acknowledged. “Though should I choose to turn my telescope to new worlds, my superiors remain far from convinced that my successor should be the deposed prince and his regent.”

The Maharani glanced at Fenris. “This man is starting to annoy me.”

“I heard that!” retorted Jaggarneth. Fenris smirked.

“Whatever,” snapped the Maharani. “As for your ‘telescope’, my sources tell me you’ve had your eye on the governorship of Daode for some time.”

Jaggarneth shot her a knowing glance. “Let’s move that off the launch pad for a moment. All I will say is if the peace conference was in anyway disrupted it would have unfortunate political consequences for both Yuanshi and Daode.”

“And you would not want the governor of Daode to look bad, would you?” the Maharani suggested slyly. “I do not approve of my son being used as a political pawn.”

“It is Kartikeya’s limited ambition that has made him reach for the low-hanging fruit,” Jaggarneth retaliated. “I am sorry it is your son that is caught up in all of this, for I suspect you would otherwise approve most heartily.”

The Maharani glared at him. “Find my son,” she snapped. “Your politics disgust me.”

Without waiting for a response, she got up out of her chair and walked to the window, leaving Fenris to close the holovid connection.

“Odious man!” she muttered, gazing out at the gardens beyond.

“I can still hear you!” came Jaggarneth’s voice from the holovid unit.

“Not for much longer,” muttered Fenris, reaching for the power switch. Closing the case, he joined the Maharani at the window and awaited her instructions.

“You must go to Yuanshi,” she told him. “I do not trust Jaggarneth to do my bidding, let alone understand half the phrases he uses. How dare he call my son a low-hanging fruit!”

“The only interstellar ship to hand is the Platypus and Quirinus refuses to go,” remarked Fenris. “He made that quite clear.”

“So you said,” mused the Maharani. “Tell me your plan.”

“After I left Quirinus and that idiot security officer, I spoke to a few people at the spaceport. The teacher and her pupils have been invited to the peace conference to take part in the school band competition, which Governor Atman is running to show how the five systems ‘can join together in harmony’,” said Fenris. His scornful tone suggested he was not exactly enthralled with the concept himself. “I also learned that as yet they have been unable to find a ship to take them to Epsilon Eridani. That is when I invited them to meet with you.”

“And here they are, stomping on my flowerbeds. How does that help us?”

“If we can persuade Quirinus to take the Newbrum school band to Daode, I can easily accompany them,” replied Fenris. “From there it is but a short hop to Yuanshi.”

“Quirinus is hardly likely to be so charitable to total strangers.”

“Ravana, his daughter, is musical. If she were to be invited to join the band…?”

The Maharani regarded Fenris cautiously. His suggestion was unusually devious and for a moment she found herself wondering if he had planned it this way from the start.