Steph Bennion - Hollow Moon

“The problem with the fusion reactor is critical!” Wak was saying. “We’ve been unable to locate the power drain and it’s worse than ever! The fuel-cell reserves are gone, life support is about to shut down and everyone else left some time ago aboard the Indra , leaving just me here trying to do what I can. And I mean everyone. It’s not looking good, Quirinus. My advice is to make planet-fall at Newbrum or Lan-Tlanto.”

“We’re on the wrong trajectory for Ascension,” Quirinus told him. “Besides, that would leave you stranded!”

“The ship from Newbrum coming to collect your passengers is thankfully now also bringing an emergency crew,” replied Wak. “I’ve also picked up another spacecraft behind you on visual, but whoever’s aboard is not responding to transmissions.”

“There’s a ship behind us?” Quirinus sounded surprised. “There’s nothing on radar.”

Ostara caught his glance and responded with a shrug. Seeing Ravana drift towards her with a purposeful look in her eye, Ostara vacated the co-pilot’s seat and watched as Ravana buckled herself in and proceeded to run her fingers over the scanner console.

“I repeat, you are advised to divert to Ascension,” said Wak. “I’ll be fine.”

“The hell you will,” retorted Quirinus, causing both Ravana and Ostara to look at him in surprise. “If I’ve learned anything on this trip, it’s that friends look out for each other. I’m setting the final course corrections now and we’ll be with you in an hour or so.”

“Your friends certainly made their mark. The young girl’s news report on the conference is all over the net!” said Wak, managing a brief smile. He waved a subdued farewell with his hastily-repaired artificial hand. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

The screen went blank. With a deep sigh, Quirinus tapped in a new set of coordinates into the flight computer, checked the revised flight path on the console navigation screen, then wearily leaned back into his seat.

“Everyone’s gone?” asked Ostara, sounding dubious. “Can that really be true?”

“Wak can be a little melodramatic at times,” said Quirinus dismissively.

“I hope my mother’s okay,” Surya murmured anxiously. “Can I call her?”

Quirinus shrugged and waved towards the holovid console. Surya was surprised to find that the unit already held the Maharani’s private contact details at the palace but said nothing. However, when he tried to establish a connection there was no reply.

“Your mother would be first in line if it came to abandoning ship,” Quirinus told him, sounding bitter. “I’m sure she’s perfectly safe.”

Seeing Surya’s downcast frown, Ostara put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

“You’re very grouchy,” she said to Quirinus. “What’s wrong?”

“After all we’ve been through I was looking forward to getting back to a normal life,” he replied. His face revealed his concern. “Or as normal as living in a hollow asteroid can be. The Dandridge Cole ’s systems should not have failed like that.” He looked across to where Ravana was busy at the console. “Have you found that ship behind us?”

“Not yet,” she replied, then gave him a sly look. “The auxiliary scanner systems are not very user-friendly. How about if I use my implant to talk directly to the AI?”

“Can you do that?” asked Ostara, surprised.

Quirinus gave Ravana a stern look. “You’ve been talking to the ship,” he accused her. “Do you really want to link the Platypus to that thing in your head?”

“Do you mean the same ‘thing’ that got us into Sumitra so we could rescue you?” asked Ravana. “I don’t particularly like the idea of having an alien lump of hardware in my skull, but now I know it’s there I may as well learn to make the most of it.”

Quirinus sighed, then pressed a switch on the console. “Ship! Can you enable the cranium implant interface? Restrict access to Ravana only.”

“A pleasure to be of service,” the ship replied. “Military special-services implant detected and interface calibrated to optimum settings. Ravana, welcome to my mind.”

Ravana became aware of a new image in her thoughts. The glowing purple symbol was hard to decipher at first, then she smiled as she realised what the exquisitely-rendered icon was meant to represent. In a way, it was the obvious choice.

“Is that really a duck-billed platypus?” she asked the computer.

“Available data suggested it was the most appropriate image,” the ship confirmed.

“Happy now?” asked Quirinus.

Ravana did not answer at first. Unable to resist, she mentally pressed the platypus-shaped symbol and watched with her mind’s eye as it changed colour to green and expanded to show a long, scrolling line of other symbols, each one representing a different onboard system. Yet behind all this was a hazy image of the Platypus itself, one created from a fine web of lines splaying like tree roots from a bright focus near the bow. Reaching out with her mind, Ravana felt the power of the ship quivering in every strand, from the pulsating brain of the AI unit to the distant tips of its rudders. Somehow, the Platypus felt alive.

“It’s incredible!” murmured Ravana. “It feels so organic, as if the ship and I are one!”

“Organic?” remarked Surya. “It’s just a machine!”

Quirinus regarded her oddly. “The tendrils, perhaps?”

“That must be it,” Ravana said dreamily. “Amazing!”

“Is she okay?” asked Ostara, concerned. “She looks possessed.”

“Perhaps I should deactivate the link again,” said Quirinus, looking perturbed. He reached over and gently shook her shoulder. “Ravana! Snap out of it! We have work to do.”

Ravana caught her reflection in the windscreen and jolted of her reverie, startled by the expression upon her own face. It reminded her of when she had once been ill with a virus and hallucinating with a fever.

“Sorry about that,” she apologised.

Her father gave her an expectant look. Ravana remembered what she was supposed to be doing and using her implant selected the scanner array at the stern of the hull. As her father had noted, there was nothing on radar but she saw the optical scope had detected a moving object on a matching trajectory several thousand kilometres behind. She set the scope to maximum magnification and routed the output to the console screen.

“That’s what Wak saw behind us,” she said at last. “I found it on long-range visual. It must be a stealth gunship not to show up on radar.”

“Or an ex-military transport,” murmured Quirinus. He seemed impressed by what Ravana had done. The image on the screen showed an angular flying-wing spaceship that to all of them looked stupefying familiar. “That is almost certainly the Sun Wukong .”

“What are they doing here?” asked Ostara.

“More to the point, why are they ignoring Wak’s communications?” Quirinus asked. He checked a scanner reading again and then sat back, looking more puzzled than ever. “Their ship’s location beacon is switched off. Why would they hide from us?”

“Shall I try to get them on the holovid?” asked Ravana.

Quirinus nodded. Ravana called up the contact reference for the Sun Wukong and sent a call signal, then when there was no reply sent another, but the screen remained blank. Meanwhile, Surya experimented with his implant’s built-in communicator, but if Ganesa was on the other ship she was out of range. They both quickly admitted defeat.

“Nothing,” said Ravana and sighed. “Equipment failure, perhaps?”

“Perhaps,” mused Quirinus. Something was very odd indeed.

Space-traffic controllers in the Barnard’s Star system were far more laid-back than their Epsilon Eridani counterparts and the Platypus had been able to come out of extra-dimensional space a mere three hours away from the Dandridge Cole . The spinning asteroid was getting larger through the flight-deck windows, but behind them and closer still was the rapidly-approaching Sun Wukong , its crew still ignoring all transmissions.