Steph Bennion - Hollow Moon

“Down the stairs,” Ravana whispered. “As quietly as possible!”

“What if I refuse to be quiet?” replied Fenris, speaking deliberately loudly and making Ostara jump. “What would you do to me then?”

“Shut up!” hissed Ostara, raising the pistol to his head.

“Firing the gun will only hasten the discovery of our presence,” Fenris said with a leer. “Perhaps a fine Dhusarian hymn will do just as well!”

To their horror, he suddenly started singing at the top of his voice:

In a panic, Ostara lashed out with the butt of the pistol and hit Fenris hard upon his left temple, cutting off his song to send him crashing to the floor. Ravana stared in horror at the prone figure suddenly motionless at her feet.

“What have you done?” she whispered.

Ostara quickly bent down and felt the man’s pulse.

“He’s out cold,” she muttered. “That’ll teach him to sing hymns at us.”

“We can’t leave him lying on the floor like that!”

“Stick him in there,” said Ostara, pointing to a nearby door.

Ravana cautiously opened the door and peered inside. To her relief, the office beyond was unoccupied; that is until she and Ostara dragged Fenris off the landing and propped him up against the wall inside. Ravana closed the door on the drooping figure, then frowned.

“There’s no lock,” she murmured.

“Can’t be helped. With any luck, by the time he awakens we’ll be long gone.”

With Fenris no longer around to hinder them, they made swift progress down the stairway and soon Ravana was tentatively probing the implant images of the security gate at the bottom, while Ostara kept a lookout for agents. A few seconds later the gate was open and they hurried along the short corridor beyond to a further locked door, which Ravana found offered no more resistance than the others. She could sense a multitude of systems monitoring their progress, but any red flashing image in her mind she identified as a security device miraculously changed to green as they approached, for it seemed her implant was keeping them from tripping any alarms.

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.