Hanuman looked at the main console display and squinted at the view inside the hold. Three figures were clearly visible, crouched low behind the ship’s cargo of animal feed and crated farming equipment.
“Rather young for pirates, don’t you think?” he observed. “I’m sure you would agree that the Chinese woman is far too pretty and innocent-looking to be a Que Qiao spy.”
Ganesa raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Do we throw them off?”
“Anyone desperate enough to hide aboard this ship is obviously anxious to avoid the authorities and therefore can’t be all bad,” remarked Hanuman. “They look harmless enough. Just make sure they’re able to open the inner airlock to the passenger cabin when they need to and hit them with the usual depressurisation warnings once we clear Hemakuta airspace. I’ll go and introduce myself once we break orbit.”
“Right you are, boss!” giggled Ganesa. “You’re just a big softy at heart.”
“I may have a sideline in selling child slaves for all you know,” he retorted.
Ganesa smiled again and selected the controls to fire up the main engines. Moments later, the Sun Wukong was accelerating hard down the runway, all systems purring in a sweet technological symphony as it prepared for another fiery ascent into the void.
Chapter Nine
The dark side of Yuanshi
THE SUN WUKONG stood at rest in the darkness, cocooned in a hush broken only by the gentle ting-ting of cooling metal. The spacecraft had made for the side of Yuanshi that faced the mighty Shennong, descending through the night to land at a lonely forest airstrip on a small island continent and hundreds of kilometres from the nearest major settlement. The ship had come to a halt near the single security light above the gate at the end of the runway, beyond which lay a cluster of large square buildings. The dark was far from total, for the huge crescent of the gas giant that hung above the horizon bathed the scene in a sickly yellow aura, casting the surrounding bamboo forest into sharp relief.
Ravana peered through the cabin porthole, looking for signs of movement, but all was still. The Sun Wukong’s pilots had left the ship shortly after landing, leaving robot porters to unload and take away their cargo to the nearby buildings. Upon finding them lurking in the passenger cabin, the man who introduced himself as Hanuman had not been angry but had made it clear he wanted them off the ship as soon as they made planet-fall. The trouble was they had no idea where on the moon they actually were, or indeed where to go from here.
“I take it this is Yuanshi?” whispered Ostara, at the next window.
“Seeing Shennong in the sky like that brings it all back to me,” Ravana murmured, stroking her cat. “There’s no way it would appear that big from Daode.”
“We should leave,” said Zotz nervously. “Before they come back.”
The airlock door to the cargo bay was unlocked and before long they were slinking surreptitiously away into the warm night air. Like that of all terraformed moons, Yuanshi’s atmosphere was thin but had a high oxygen content to compensate. However, the civil war had left the terraforming programme on Yuanshi less advanced than on Daode and once out of the ship the difference in air quality was noticeable. Moving quickly as they were, by the time they reached the fence separating the runway from the nearby buildings, Ostara and Zotz were panting heavily and close to collapse.
“My word!” exclaimed Ostara, between gasps. “This is like running up a mountain!”
“Why aren’t you out of breath?” Zotz asked Ravana, sounding almost offended.
“I was born on Yuanshi,” she reminded him. “I guess I’ve still got the lungs for it.”
The nearby gate, lit by the sole security light, had been left wide open by the long-vanished robot porters. Beyond, a gravel track ran towards the nearest of the vast warehouse-sized constructions they had seen earlier, which now they were closer proved to be immense square tents of canvas sitting upon stone foundations. From where they stood the lower point of Shennong’s crescent was just visible through the thin canvas walls of the nearest tent and its yellow light revealed a tantalising glimpse of a jungle-like interior. Yet there was still no sign of the crew of the Sun Wukong, or indeed anyone else. The quiet within the forest clearing was positively eerie.
“I thought Yuanshi was supposed to be a war zone,” murmured Zotz.
“We’re obviously far away from any fighting,” guessed Ostara. “And from anywhere else by the look of it.” She looked hopefully at Ravana. “Any ideas?”
“You’re asking me?” Ravana retorted. “I haven’t a clue where we are!”
“You were born on this moon!”
“I left Yuanshi when I was seven,” Ravana said irritably. She was starting to think that stowing away on the Sun Wukong had been a very bad idea. “All I can tell you is that this is definitely nowhere near Ayodhya, which is where Fenris was heading. If my wristpad wasn’t broken I may have been able to tell you more.”
“I doubt it,” remarked Zotz. He had been tapping fruitlessly at his own device, having dropped his bag to the floor. “I can’t get a signal. I think this place is shielded.”
“Nothing at all?” asked Ravana.
“I did receive a message just before we landed,” he admitted. “Miss Clymene was asking where we were and why we missed the rehearsal this evening.”
Ravana groaned. “Everything is going wrong. Were you able to send a reply?”
Zotz shook his head. “Sorry.”
“Well, we can’t stay here,” Ostara said brightly. “Let’s have a look around.”
Zotz glanced back at the Sun Wukong. “We could wait until the crew returned.”
“I have a feeling we wouldn’t be welcome,” she replied. “Come!”
Ostara led the way through the gate and on towards the nearest tent. Ravana felt her cat squirming in her arms, clearly distressed, yet when she tried to put it down it dug its claws into the sleeves of her flight suit and refused to let go. As they approached the huge wire-mesh gate in the wall of the nearest tent, her pet began to wail in a highly disturbing manner, each meow fainter than the last until finally it fell into a trembling silence. Ravana was getting another of her headaches and the increasingly erratic and uncalled-for vocal displays of an electric cat were not helping at all.
“This gate is locked,” observed Zotz. He peered at the control panel on the wall next to the entrance. “And electrified. I wonder what’s inside?”
Ravana stared at the panel, then her eyes went wide as an image suddenly popped into her thoughts. Somewhat unexpectedly, in her mind was a pictogram of the gate, just as she had seen the airlock control whilst dangling down the shaft on the Dandridge Cole.
“Pictures in my head,” she murmured.
She knew now it was her cranium implant that had opened the airlock; a revelation she found somewhat disquieting. The gate control was relatively straightforward in comparison, being a simple square of red lines with a jagged red symbol upon it. Armed with a determined scowl, Ravana directed her thoughts to mentally push first against the symbol and then the square. In her mind she caught an odd little beep, then both images changed from red to green. There was a loud clunk as the real gate powered down and unlocked.
“Are you okay?” asked Ostara, seeing Ravana wince.
“This thing in my head feels ready to explode,” she said grimly. Ahead, the two halves of the gate slowly rolled aside to reveal a dark and humid interior.