“Open sesame,” she declared.
Above her, the airlock doors gave a metallic screech and slowly began to slide open. As quick as a flash, Ravana clambered up the rope and hauled herself through the widening gap into the airlock beyond. Without stopping to consider how she was doing it, she threw another mental manipulation at the image in her mind to reverse the opening of the doors. She paused, glanced up and tried the same trick for the airlock entrance above.
She did not know whether to look smug or just relieved when the upper doors promptly squealed into life and began to open. Professor Wak pulled free his mangled hand, staggered back to lean against the hovertruck and regarded Ravana with a look of disbelief.
“How did that happen?” he asked, amazed.
“Positive thinking,” she murmured, somewhat stunned.
Wak began hastily isolating the power supply so that the lower doors could not open again. Ravana made for the ladder, eager to get out of the airlock. Upon reaching the top she was alarmed to find Ostara lying unconscious on the floor near the edge of the shaft. After relieving herself of the safety rope and her helmet, Ravana knelt down beside the crumpled figure to see if her friend was okay. She did not notice the arrival of the masked birdman behind her.
“Ostara!” hissed Ravana. “Wake up!”
Ostara’s eyes flickered open and she frantically shot out a hand to point over the girl’s shoulder. Ravana whirled around and saw a figure in a red birdsuit shuffling hesitantly towards them, who upon seeing her fierce expression cautiously lowered a squirming bundle of fur to the ground and stepped back again. The electric cat thanked him with a vicious hiss and ran towards Ravana and Ostara.
“The devil’s come to get me!” Ostara shrieked.
“It’s just an idiot in a custom birdsuit,” Ravana reassured her.
She gave the cat a stroke as it came to her side, comforted by its gentle purrs. Still shaking from her ordeal, she stood up and gave the birdman a weary look.
“What’s with the mask and the fancy costume?” she asked. The suit bulged with muscles that did not look entirely real. “Are you supposed to be some sort of superhero?”
The figure gave a proud salute. “I am The Flying Fox!” he declared. Ravana smiled at his attempt to project his pre-pubescent voice in a way that fitted the heroic facade. “I have rescued Jones the cat from extreme danger!”
“Where were you when my life was in danger?”
“You were in danger?” exclaimed The Flying Fox, concerned.
“Ostara passed out and accidentally shut me and the professor inside the airlock,” Ravana told him. “I think you may have banged your head,” she added to Ostara.
“You don’t say,” mumbled Ostara, rubbing her head. “Sorry for fainting and all that.”
Behind the birdsuit-clad figure, Ravana saw Endymion, Bellona and Philyra arrive at the door to the maintenance shed, followed moments later by an out-of-breath Miss Clymene. The sheer energy of Endymion’s excited burst through the doorway was enough to make the masked hero jump in alarm.
“Who are you?” Endymion asked him, ignoring Ravana and Ostara. “We saw you flying above the palace! That is such a cool birdsuit.”
“This is The Flying Squirrel,” Ostara declared, smirking. “Sorry, Fox.”
“Saviour of electric cats,” added Ravana.
“At your service,” The Flying Fox announced. He bowed gracefully to Ravana, not noticing that her cat was now licking a wall power socket. “I am here to both serve and protect you, wherever and whenever danger threatens. Do not fear, for The Flying Fox will always be near!”
“What’s going on up there?” Wak suddenly cried, calling up from inside the airlock chamber. Finding he could not fly the hovertruck one-handed, he had tried to climb the ladder to see what all the fuss was about but found his attempt frustrated by his flattened hand’s inability to grip the rungs. “This is a restricted area!”
“I must fly,” The Flying Fox told Ravana. “I shall return!”
The masked figure stepped forward, took Ravana’s gloved hand in his own and kissed it gently. Before she had a chance to respond, he spun upon his heels and slipped through the door and out of sight, leaving Ravana somewhat nonplussed.
“How sweet!” said Ostara. “Your very own guardian angel!”
Ravana turned away, embarrassed.
“Why was he wearing a mask?” asked Miss Clymene.
“Perhaps he was on his way to a fancy-dress party,” quipped Philyra.
“A real-life superhero!” Bellona exclaimed. “This place has everything!”
“He isn’t exactly a super…” began Ostara.
Ravana nudged her to be quiet. “He is if he wants to be,” she said softly. There was a note of respect in her voice, for she had been somewhat moved by the strange encounter.
“Hello?” called Wak. “Is anyone listening to me?”
Ravana moved to the edge of the airlock and looked down. The professor had removed his helmet and stood on the back of the parked hovertruck, trying in vain to see what was going on in the shed above. Ravana was acutely aware of Endymion and Bellona peering over her shoulder.
“The people from Newbrum are here,” she called down. “The ones who found the kidnappers’ ship on Ascension.”
“Excellent!” cried Wak. The mystery of how Ravana had opened the airlock and then closed it again seemed to have gone clean from his mind. “Bring them down!”
Bellona looked down into the airlock, then at Ravana’s spacesuit. “Is it safe?”
Ravana hesitated. “I’d be lying if I said it was,” she admitted.
Endymion had already collected a suit from the rack. “I’ll come with you!”
“With me?” remarked Ravana.
She had not intended going back into the airlock after what just happened, not least because the now-fading rush of adrenaline had left behind a very painful ache in her arm. She looked at the nervous expressions of Miss Clymene, Philyra and Bellona, then sighed. She was the only one already dressed for the occasion. Ostara crept behind the safety fence and peered down into the airlock.
“What made that big hole?” she asked woozily, still holding her head. She pointed to the kidnappers’ tunnel. “Burrowing wallabies? A mass migration of earthworms?”
“She’s your investigator?” asked Endymion wonderingly.
“Shut up and suit up,” Ravana told him. “Don’t forget your helmet.”
Clambering down the ladder in the clumsy orange emergency suit was not made any easier with Endymion following her and threatening to tread on her gloves with every step. Professor Wak, once again wearing his helmet, was waiting at the bottom of the ladder. As soon as they were down he bustled them across to the large hole hacked into the side of the airlock chamber.
Ravana peered into the kidnappers’ lair. Beyond the initial wider section, the tunnel sloped down for a short distance before curving back up towards the inner surface of the hollow moon. The roughly-cut passage was not in total darkness, for now the elephant had toppled from its perch a faint glimmer of light filtered through the hole in the palace courtyard, illuminating the jammed wreckage of the wooden cart.
“Look,” came Wak’s voice into their helmets. He pointed to a large circular burn mark upon the lower airlock doors. “The kidnappers brought their ship up the shaft from outside, closed the airlock door behind them and parked the ship on top of the doors. See those food cans?” he continued, pointing to a cluster of tins nestling behind the net fixed to the tunnel wall. “They must have been here a while.”