Steph Bennion - Hollow Moon

“Mother!” cried Surya. “I thought you had abandoned me!”

“Maharani Uma,” snarled Taranis, mocking her with a sarcastic version of a salute. “Exile has done you good. All these years and you have not aged a day.”

“Fenris convinced me you were in genuine need of sanctuary,” she said, looking squarely at the priest as she moved down the steps. “To my shame I played along when he duped Quirinus into bringing you here like a shipload of spare parts. But you must have known that once I learned the extent of your treachery I would not let it pass.”

“You wanted to be back in power as much as anyone,” Fenris challenged her. “You do not have the moral high-ground here!”

“You knew he was here?” Surya looked at his mother in dismay.

“He was out of sight, out of mind,” she replied bitterly. “It was only later I learned of Fenris’ deceit. During the evacuation I found the tunnel and came to confront Taranis myself. I did not have the strength to open the hatch so hid until I saw you arrive. I am glad you have found friends,” she said. “That is the only good thing to have come from this sorry tale.”

The Maharani reached where Fenris stood at the bottom of the steps, regarded him coldly, then slapped him hard across his face. Before he had time to react, her other hand closed deftly around the gun in his hand and plucked it from his grasp.

“That man nearly murdered us all,” Ravana said angrily, as she helped The Flying Fox to his feet. “He put a bomb on the Platypus . My father may never be able to see again.”

“Fenris lacks the courage to kill face to face,” the Maharani remarked. She drew Surya close and put a protective arm around his shoulders. “Arranging the kidnap was bad enough, but what I truly cannot forgive is the attempts to brainwash my son! I found your secret device under Surya’s bed, so don’t deny it,” she said to Fenris.

“That is the way of the greys,” Fenris replied, unabashed. “In your head be it.”

“That box was a mind probe?” asked Surya. “I’m glad I broke it.”

“What!?” retorted Fenris.

“From what Kartikeya told me, you were ready to join us with or without mental manipulation!” Taranis said to Surya. One of his legs limped as he clanked closer, but as yet the priest remained oblivious to the cat munching upon his circuitry. “It seems your mother’s desire to return to a life of idle luxury in Ayodhya has rubbed off on you.”

“What did you want with Surya?” demanded the Maharani. “You already have a puppet to do your bidding on Yuanshi, not to mention your devoted Dhusarian followers.”

“Kartikeya is weak and his rebel army are fools!” Taranis snapped. “As for the so-called Dhusarian Church, it needs me in more places than I am able to be. My congress of disciples, alien cyberclones implanted with my wisdom and desires, will take on this burden and spread the word of the greys!” The years fell away as his words erupted with a passion that judging by her scowl the Maharani remembered only too well. “The first twelve are but moments from birth. A new Maharaja on Yuanshi will put the Que Qiao plantations in my hands and provide hundreds more!”

“You’re using equipment stolen from our laboratories!” Ostara suddenly realised.

“The detective has finally cracked her first case,” Fenris said mockingly.

The Maharani handed the pistol to Ostara. “Feel free to shoot him,” she said.

“We need to get to the reactor controls!” Ravana whispered urgently.

“It is too late for that,” snarled Taranis. “My disciples awake!”

Ravana felt another rush of images flow through her mind. A series of gurgles filled the air and green liquid began to pour from vents at the bottom of the twelve cloning vats. Now she could see clearly the creations within and stared in both fascination and horror as the inhuman figures began to twitch and press spindly grey fingers against the glass. As the tanks drained their last, Taranis’ twelve disciples were revealed in all their twisted glory; strange hybrids with the muscular stance of a human but with the haunted features of their unwilling mother. Yet the gentle composure of the creature quivering inside the cage was lacking in the twelve, for their lizard-like grimaces mirrored the merciless countenance of Taranis himself. Their six-fingered fists hammered upon their glass prisons in newly-born rage.

“Greys?!” exclaimed The Flying Fox.

“Lizard men!” gasped Surya.

“She’s the mother,” murmured Ostara, pointing to the cage. “So Taranis is the father?”

“Gross,” muttered the Maharani. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

Ravana winced and put a hand to her head. Inside her mind, the angry thumping of fists against glass was a thunder of hatred and confusion. She did not know how, but she could feel the thoughts of the twelve as their raw alien emotions bled into her implant, drenching her in fear from within. She suddenly felt a hand shaking her shoulder.

“Ravana!” whispered the birdman. “You’re going into a trance again!”

“I can’t help it,” she moaned. “It’s all too much!”

“Don’t worry,” he replied. “If I get a chance, I know what to do!”

The glass vats had now completely drained, leaving a pool of green sludge upon the floor. The steel walls of the engine room echoed with a staccato of loud clunks, then a vertical slit appeared in each tank and they began to split like huge seed pods. Grey scaly fingers scrabbled through the widening gaps as the clones inside forced the vats open.

“Magnificent!” Taranis cried. “My children! My disciples! My chosen ones!”

He turned his back upon his human audience and shuffled through the sludge to welcome his creations. Ravana’s cat still clung to its precarious perch on his spider-walker torso, voraciously gnawing upon the bundle of wires caught up in its diamond-tipped paws. Now two of Taranis’ mechanical legs were visibly dragging, yet the priest was too wrapped up in his moment of triumph to notice.

“Jones!” whispered Ravana. “What are you doing?”

“I think your cat has bitten off more than it can chew,” observed Ostara.

One by one, their grey scaly skin damp and glistening, the twelve clones stepped free of their glass wombs, lifted their arms towards the priest and in unison released a quivering howl. They were truly a terrible sight to behold; a humanoid yet somehow reptilian perversion of nature that moved with the cold implacable air of a snake preparing for the kill. The grey in the cage whimpered and tugged frantically at the bars of its prison. The clones cried out again, only this time their squealing voices sounded defiant and almost human.

“zz-taaraaniis-zz!” screeched the twelve. “zz-leeaad-uus-zz!”

“Do my bidding, my disciples!” the priest cried, then whirled around and pointed to his unwilling guests. “These people are unbelievers. Show them the path to oblivion!”

The clones instantly lunged forward and surrounded Ravana, Ostara, the Maharani, Surya and The Flying Fox to block their escape. Ostara gave a shriek and dropped Fenris’ pistol, then watched in dismay as it clattered across the floor and out of sight. The twelve stood poised, their bony grey fingers outstretched like claws as they awaited the word of the priest. Looking smug, Fenris strode to Taranis’ side. His gloating smile quickly faded when he saw the mess Ravana’s cat had made of the priest’s electronic entrails.

“Blasted cat!” he yelled. “Get off him!”

“What is going on?” roared Taranis.

“Was this your plan?” Surya asked Zotz, who had finally removed his tattered mask.

Fenris leapt forward, grabbed the electric pet and pulled it away from the priest, then dived for cover as a shower of sparks exploded from Taranis’ mechanical torso. A thin burbling voice drifted up from the AI unit beneath the seat of the multi-limbed chair.