Выбрать главу

Professor Wak manoeuvred away from the open cargo bay door with utmost care. Notwithstanding the temperamental interim repair to his hand, the entire crew was huddled on the tiny vehicle and the ground was half a kilometre away in every direction. Miss Clymene had been granted the seat in the open cab next to Zotz and his father. Everyone else clung despondently to the straps stretching across the flatbed at the rear, like stranded mariners upon a life raft at sea.

The truck began its shallow dive towards Dockside and soon its nervous passengers felt the centrifugal pull of the hollow moon once more. Zotz glanced ruefully over his shoulder, for he had wanted to ride behind with Ravana but had fumbled too long when trying to tie the safety line around his waist. Wak had raised the rails at the sides of the flatbed and no one was in any real danger of falling off, but that did not stop Ostara shifting uneasily towards the centre whilst doing her best to avoid looking down. As they descended towards the ground, the Platypus slowly faded into the darkness until all that could be seen were the red and green navigation lights at the tips of the folded wings.

“Home sweet home,” Ostara said moodily, eager to break the silence.

Ravana gave her a withering look and went back to stroking her cat.

“You had us all worried, fainting like that,” said Ostara. “It was an impressive piece of piloting the way you managed to bring the ship through in one piece.”

“I crashed the Platypus into the sun,” Ravana said bitterly. “Father was nearly killed and the hollow moon looks like a ghost ship. What is there to be impressed about?”

“We’re all still alive!” Miss Clymene said brightly. “Be thankful for that.”

“Yes, but for how long?” Zotz murmured, causing Philyra and Bellona to look at him in alarm. “The air doesn’t smell right. It’s getting cold, too.”

The hovertruck skimmed low over the deserted fields, keeping close to the monorail track as it headed towards Dockside. The crops below looked pale and stunted in the light of the truck’s headlamps and it was clear the hollow moon had suffered greatly in their absence. Dotted around the fields were abandoned mobile light and heat generators, brought out by farmers in a desperate attempt to save the harvest, but they were no substitute for the once raging power of the simulated sun. The ecosystem of any artificial world was a precarious balance between Mother Nature and human ingenuity at the best of times.

The hovertruck settled to a halt outside one of the maintenance bays. The door to the workshop opened and a figure suddenly ran out and away down the road. Moments later, two others appeared at the door in hot pursuit of the first, then upon seeing the hovertruck gave up the chase and instead approached the parked truck.

As the figures emerged out of the gloom, Ravana saw it was Hanuman and Ganesa. She climbed from the hovertruck to greet them, then cursed as her cat took their arrival as a signal to wriggle free and leap away into the darkness.

“Fenris escaped!” growled Hanuman, annoyed. “He jumped us when we went to fetch him from the passenger cabin. I’ve never known anyone be so slippery!”

“Looks like a job for the local security officer,” said Wak, looking at Ostara.

“I’ll deal with him later,” grumbled Ostara. “My friends come first.”

After asking Zotz to take Miss Clymene, Endymion, Bellona and Philyra to one of the habitation cabins, Wak led the rest of the party into the Dockside complex, with Hanuman and Ganesa at the handles of the stretcher upon which Quirinus lay. The workshop and nearby spacecraft maintenance bay had been the scene of many a clumsy accident and so it was no coincidence that the medical unit was close by. The corridors were illuminated by emergency power only and when Ravana followed her father into the dimly-lit medical centre her heart sank at the sight of all the lifeless equipment. Undeterred, Wak instructed Hanuman and Ganesa to lift the unconscious Quirinus onto the nearest bed, then helped Ravana to connect her father up to a battery-powered portable cardiac monitor.

“His vital signs are fine,” Wak reassured her, pointing at the monitor screen. “Unfortunately, there’s not enough power to run the diagnostic unit or the autosurgeon, so unless anyone here is a trained medic there’s little I can do. Your friends have a ship. I suggest you get your father to Newbrum as soon as you can.”

“We’d be glad to oblige,” said Hanuman. “But we’re stuck here too. When we tried to bring the Sun Wukong into the hangar on the elevator there was not enough power to shut the doors. The outer airlock is not opening for anyone until we can close the inner one.”

“Miss Clymene knows first aid,” Surya suggested, looking at the figure on the bed.

“I’ll go and get her,” said Ostara. Anxious to help, she hurried from the room.

Wak came over and put an arm around the downcast Ravana.

“We’ve been in worse fixes than this in the past,” he told her.

“When?” asked Ravana, incredulously. “Everything that can go wrong, has! I wish we’d never gone to Epsilon Eridani. The trip has been a disaster from start to finish.”

Ganesa stood by the door and looked through the window beyond. The distant lights of the crashed Platypus were still visible, reflected in the shattered remains of the sun.

“How about if we drag the Platypus back into the dock and use its fuel cells to power the airlock systems?” she suggested. “That way we could get the Sun Wukong out of here and take Quirinus to Ascension.”

“It’s a thought,” admitted Wak. “Alternatively, there’s a portable generator not far from the palace we may be able to use. The ship from Newbrum is only a few hours away. At the very least we need to be able to operate the airlock when it arrives.”

“Can your ship do that?” Ravana asked Hanuman. “Rescue the Platypus?”

“The Sun Wukong has the original lifting gear still fitted,” he told her. “Those military transports can pluck an armoured tank off a muddy battlefield in Taotie gravity, so I’m sure we can pull your ship out of the hole you made without too much trouble.”

They were interrupted by the return of Ostara, who had with her both Miss Clymene and Bellona. Miss Clymene immediately went to Quirinus’ bedside and looked with interest at the monitor readings, though acknowledged her medical expertise was limited.

“We’ll do our best for your father,” she said to Ravana. “Bellona and I will be able to clean his wounds properly now we’re not bobbing around like drunken fish.”

“And we’ll make a start on towing the Platypus,” said Hanuman, making for the door. “Unless anyone has a better idea, that is.”

“Are you suggesting there is one better than mine?” retorted Ganesa.

Hanuman rolled his eyes and pushed Ganesa towards the door to take their gentle bickering out into the cool night air. Miss Clymene and Bellona quickly got to work changing Quirinus’ dressings, leaving Ravana feeling a little lost and helpless. When Zotz arrived a few moments later, Wak approached her with a proposition.

“I mentioned a portable generator at the far end of the hollow moon,” he said. “My engineers were there yesterday trying to gain access to an old maintenance tunnel. If you want to make yourself useful, I suggest you and Zotz take the hovertruck and if the generator has any fuel left in it, bring it back.”

“I’d rather help Hanuman and Ganesa with the Platypus,” Ravana said moodily, as she idly removed her broken wristpad. “I know that ship better than anyone.”