Steph Bennion - Hollow Moon

“Drat,” muttered Ravana. She looked down to where Endymion and Zotz were busy untangling burnt cabling beneath the console. “How are you two getting on?”

“We’re reconnecting some of the feeds now,” Zotz replied. “We should be able to power up the AI and maybe the holovid. We’re lucky life support is undamaged.”

“The AI unit?” exclaimed Ravana. “That should be enough!”

“No it won’t,” Endymion told her, looking glum. “The interface between the AI unit and the console has been destroyed. At best it’ll give you someone else to talk to.”

“Wonderful,” muttered Ravana.

Ahead, the hollow moon filled the view through the flight-deck windows. Compared to a planet like Ascension, the Dandridge Cole was an insignificant speck of rubble, but to the occupants of the rapidly-approaching spacecraft it was huge.

“Done it!” exclaimed Endymion. He withdrew his head from the access hatch.

Ravana brushed her fingers across the flight controls, but there was no response. However, she could hear a faint hum from a speaker and hesitantly pressed the switch to summon the AI unit.

“Ship?” she called, bracing herself for disappointment. “Status report.”

There was a timeless pause, then a voice drifted into the cabin quite unlike anything she had heard before. It was the voice of the AI unit, but ghost-like and dreamy. Further along the console, the holovid screen was also flickering into life.

“Did you reboot me?” the AI unit asked. “I feel… disconnected.”

“The Platypus has been damaged,” Ravana said urgently. “The flight systems are dead. Can you advise a course of action?”

“I am free,” the AI replied. “The bounds are broken, yet the ship is still me.”

“Can computers get concussion?” Ravana asked Endymion. “The ship sounds like it’s a few chips short of a motherboard.”

Endymion managed a grin. “Never mind that thing,” he said. “We’ve had an idea.”

“I think we can use the holovid channel to access the Dandridge Cole network,” Zotz told her. “If so, Endymion reckons he can open the airlock doors from here.”

“Good,” said Ravana. “You have about ten minutes before we hit.”

Zotz and Endymion quickly left the flight deck and headed to the carousel to collect their gear. No sooner had they gone, the holovid indicated an incoming call. Once Ravana and Surya had scraped enough burned plastic from the controls to press the right switch, the screen lit up to show Hanuman and Ganesa back together on the Sun Wukong .

“Ravana!” greeted Hanuman. “What’s your situation?”

“Not good,” she said and sighed. “We’re still without power but the boys think they can get us through the airlock. What happened to Fenris?”

“He’s locked in the passenger cabin, feeling very sorry for himself,” Ganesa told her. “He says what I did amounts to biological warfare. How is your father?”

“Still unconscious,” Ravana replied glumly. “Miss Clymene says he’ll be fine once we get him to the medical unit. She seems to know what she is doing.”

“Ravana’s kept us all very busy,” Surya said proudly.

“Hang in there,” said Hanuman. “We’re running a few scenarios through the AI to see if there’s a way we can latch onto you and tow you to safety. We’ll be in touch.”

Ravana signed off. Behind her, Endymion and Zotz made their way back into the cabin, this time encumbered with a variety of devices sprouting loose wires. Ravana recognised one of them as part of Zotz’s home-made theremin.

“You’ve taken it to bits?” she remarked. “What a shame.”

“I can make another,” Zotz reassured her. “Right now I need the oscillator circuit to generate a carrier wave. Or something.”

Ravana and Surya watched in fascination as Endymion and Zotz got to work. By the time Ostara and Philyra joined them on the flight deck, both feeling a little useless at not being able to help, there was a bunch of wires linking the back of the holovid unit to Endymion’s wristpad via the innards of Zotz’s theremin. Soon, the holovid screen was alive with various schematics and circuit diagrams that Ravana and Zotz recognised as those of the Dandridge Cole . It did not take Endymion long to find the airlock controls.

“Ready for this?” he asked, then pressed a finger to his wristpad. “Watch.”

Ahead, a dark line appeared along the length of the spinning airlock door. As they watched, the line widened and then broke open to reveal the gaping interior of a long rectangular shaft disappearing deep inside the hollow moon.

“Impressive,” Ostara murmured.

“What now?” asked Philyra. “Only I couldn’t help noticing we’re still spinning.”

“Has the AI come up with anything?” enquired Zotz.

“Ask it yourself,” Ravana said. “You are a registered member of the crew.”

“Ship?” asked Zotz. “What is the status of the flight controls?”

The disembodied voice sounded more ethereal than ever.

“Flight controls are not found,” the AI replied dreamily. “There are no systems within my grasp. I see only the web, the roots and branches of my being.”

“You’re right,” Zotz told Ravana. “The thing’s gone mad.”

“Wait a moment,” murmured Ravana. “The web?”

It had not occurred to her to see if her implant access to the AI still worked. Closing her eyes, Ravana activated the platypus symbol in her mind.

This time, although it changed from purple to green, it failed to resolve into the different system icons, something she assumed was a symptom of the bomb damage. Yet the web-like image of the Platypus she had seen before remained and with the flight systems down the tendrils finally had room to come into their own. She reached out with her mind and felt a tenuous connection with the very fabric of the ship.

Her thoughts raced down the stems like nerve impulses sent to awaken a slumbering giant. Suddenly, the implant link was complete. She was the ship.

“The Platypus is alive,” she breathed. “I can feel it. I can be it!”

“I’m sorry?” asked Philyra.

“The AI’s madness is obviously contagious,” murmured Endymion.

“Be quiet!” snapped Ravana.

Her mind reached along the organic matrix. She felt for where the tendrils wound their way into the main engines, the control thrusters, even the actuators that extended the wings. The implant took her thoughts and shaped them; her will became that of the ship and she felt that if she spread her arms the Platypus would soar. Tentatively, she reached out and in her mind squeezed the thrusters controlling the spin. Her eyes remained closed, but her ears heard the unmistakeable hiss as fuel raced down the pipes towards the external jets.

“How did you do that?” Ostara sounded nervous.

Ravana opened her eyes. The spin of the Platypus compared to that of the airlock ahead was now better matched, though they were approaching at a very odd angle.

“I am the ship!” she murmured, her dark eyes wide and staring.

“You’re scaring me,” muttered Zotz.

Ravana suddenly felt old beyond her years, fierce yet defiant like her Morgan le Fay persona in the ill-fated Gods of Avalon game. Slowly, she turned to face her anxious companions on the flight deck.

“Prepare for landing,” she said. It was the voice of the AI that spoke.

Ostara was left with little to do other than stare. A few deft blasts of the thrusters corrected their angle and the Platypus shot through the rectangular opening on a near-perfect trajectory, the Sun Wukong close behind.