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“You took away my alien?” cried Ravana. “For your experiments? How could you?”

“Alien embryos and cloning vats,” murmured Ostara. She looked at the glass tanks and the thick cables running from the reactor. The part of her not terrified seemed rather pleased she had deduced Taranis’ plans so accurately. “I don’t like the way this is going.”

Unseen by all, Ravana’s cat had jumped onto the back of the priest’s spider-walker legs and was busily nibbling the tubes running down the walker’s mechanical spine. Abandoned by the cat, the caged creature stretched a hand towards something beyond its reach on top of a nearby crate, but continued to look at Ravana as if trying to draw her attention. Ravana glanced to the crate and was puzzled by the sight of a large old-fashioned book, then thought of the Isa-Sastra that Fenris had revealed was in Taranis’ possession. Meanwhile, The Flying Fox was back on his feet and more determined than ever.

“Whatever you are doing here, it has to stop!” he declared. He unhooked the high-tension lightning rod from his backpack and pressed a button on his wristpad to activate his smoke shield. “And I am the one to do it!”

“Zotz, no!” screamed Ravana.

Taranis smiled, then gave the masked birdman a stare so intense that his eyes seemed to flash fire. An intense bolt of pain shot through Ravana’s implant and with a shriek she fell to the floor, holding her head in her hands. A sudden whooshing noise filled the air as the birdman’s backpack unlatched itself, fired its rockets and soared away across the cavern, taking the smoke screen and lightning wand with it. When the fog cleared, Ravana looked up to see The Flying Fox kneeling before the priest and slapping himself around the face as hard as he could. The birdman’s mask hung in shreds and Zotz’s look of panic made it clear he had no control over his actions. All sorts of random visions flashed through Ravana’s mind and in a sudden blind rage she mentally lashed out and dashed the images to oblivion. Zotz’s hand stopped mid-slap and he fell wearily to the floor.

“Zotz!” wailed Ravana. She crawled across to where he lay. “Stop trying to be so brave!”

“What is going on?” cried Ostara. Behind her, Surya looked more scared than ever.

Taranis shuffled nearer and glowered at Ravana. She had fallen heavily on her weak right arm and the shrapnel wound in her shoulder had begun to bleed once more. Yet she remained defiant as she climbed to her feet and stood before the priest. Her hope had been unexpectedly rekindled by the sight of her cat chewing away behind Taranis’ back.

“Crude but effective,” the priest murmured, unaware of the electric pet’s presence. “I had forgotten it had been arranged for the young demon king to have such an implant.”

“What?” exclaimed Ravana.

“A minor oversight,” Fenris acknowledged. “I see now that Namtar and Inari acted too soon because it was the girl’s implant they detected at the palace, not that of the Raja.”

“Two oversights,” Ostara pointed out. “Ravana’s cat sniffed out this secret lair.”

“That makes me number three,” came a woman’s voice from behind.

Ravana, Surya, Ostara and Fenris turned to see Maharani Uma standing on the gallery near the hatch, calmly gazing down at the scene before her. Taranis had seen her enter and was already shuffling sideways towards the bottom of the stairs. Ravana heard a groan at her feet and saw her crumpled hero trying to sit up.

“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.