The professor’s own concerns were over the worsening condition of the Dandridge Cole’s power supply. Neither Wak nor Quirinus had witnessed the unprecedented faltering of the artificial sun, but Ravana had mentioned it and many others had seen it and voiced their fears. The Indra, the pilot-less fuel tanker that travelled between the hollow moon and the cloud-mining facility orbiting the gas giant Thunor, had just returned to the Dandridge Cole. Faced with potential crop failures and the prospect of freezing to death in the dark, a growing number of residents were petitioning the Symposium to allow the tanker to be made ready to carry the population to safety. The irony that the hydrogen and helium-three carried by the Indra was the only thing keeping the power generation systems running was lost to those now faced with the possibility that the hollow moon may have to be evacuated. Such fears were not entirely unjustified; whatever was draining power had caused the artificial sun to shut down twice more since, each time longer than the last.
Quirinus was sure Wak would find a solution. Nonetheless, he left the booth wearing a thoughtful expression, though did remember to pull a face at Fenris as he passed.
Fenris slipped quickly into the vacated booth and instructed the computer to make the connection. After several agonising moments, the grotesque grimace of Taranis’ twisted features appeared on the screen. The priest’s grey skin glistened as if covered by a thin sheen of sweat. The holovid cameras revealed little of his surroundings but a noticeable haze hung in the air, one alive with wispy tendrils of steam.
“Fenris!” snarled Taranis. “You have something to report?”
“I am in Hemakuta,” replied Fenris, a little perturbed. “I have made contact with Agent Dana and hope to be on my way to Yuanshi before the day is out.”
“About time! I can no longer trust Kartikeya and his incompetent rebels to do my bidding. He is firm in his belief that the Raja is the key that will unlock Yuanshi, but the people will not find the spiritual guidance they need in the hands of young Surya.”
“Only the Dhusarian Church can provide the true light.”
“Pah!” retorted Taranis. “True belief does not need bricks and mortar to contain it. Those who need the trappings of organised religion will never understand that true enlightenment must come from within. My messengers of faith are growing stronger by the day and soon will be ready to show humanity its future!”
Fenris thought about how he first came to the church, finding solace in the routine and beliefs at a time when his own life was chaotic and grim. He decided to ignore the priest’s forceful rejection of an institution he himself held dear.
“Your activities are going to plan?” he enquired.
“My work is proceeding flawlessly. It is that of others which has misfired,” Taranis snapped. “From what Kartikeya tells me, you have done a sterling job with the Raja and he seems more pliable than I expected. The fact remains that those idiots took him from the Maharani before the mind-probe programme was complete. It is vital you reach Surya before his appearance at the conference, to establish whether what you have done is enough.”
Fenris bowed in acquiescence. “The Maharani has found the device and spoken of it to Quirinus,” he reported. “She may yet choose to reveal your whereabouts.”
“Then you must act before she does so,” Taranis told him icily. “Preferably sooner than later. The Sun Wukong is on its way to Hemakuta as I speak, delivering the equipment necessary to make the Raja’s conference appearance go the way we desire. Unless you can find a quicker way of getting to Yuanshi, I suggest you make sure your business on Daode is concluded and you are aboard when it returns!”
“I have a plan in mind that will wrap up all loose ends in one go.”
“Excellent. Any news on Que Qiao intelligence? An oxymoron though that is!”
It was rare for Taranis to attempt a joke and Fenris permitted himself a smile.
“My sources tell me that Atman and his government remain blissfully unaware of our plans,” he said. “Jaggarneth of course knows of Kartikeya’s scheme and is looking to use the resulting chaos at the peace conference to denounce Atman and demand that the governorship of both Daode and Yuanshi comes to him. Jaggarneth’s political ambitions are well known. He has many powerful allies within Que Qiao on both Taotie and Earth.”
“Kartikeya and his rebels would not stand a chance if this came to all-out war,” Taranis observed. “Jaggarneth has been stringing them along for years, happy to use the threat of terrorism to keep control. The time has come for these falsehoods to cease! My disciples will show them that true faith is mightier than the missiles and gunships of Que Qiao. Together the children of Shennong will rise to greet the dawn of the greys!”
“It is an honour to be here at the beginning,” said Fenris. “In your head be it.”
“And be it in yours,” Taranis replied. “Go! There is still much work to be done!”
Abruptly, the screen went blank, leaving Fenris alone with his thoughts. Praise from Taranis was unexpected and he relished the warm glow of self-assurance spreading through him from within. This truly was the beginning. Fate had conspired so many times to thwart the priest’s plans but Fenris now truly believed they were finally on the cusp of bringing his beloved Dhusarian Church out from the shadows. Yuanshi was just the beginning. Soon, all five systems would bow to the one true law. His mind whirring, he left the holovid booth and almost collided with Surya’s cyberclone, which was waiting for him outside.
“Spying on me again?” Fenris remarked. “Never mind. I have a job for you.”
In a room upstairs, Ostara, Endymion and Zotz sat huddled around the tiny speaker of Endymion’s wristpad, listening to the relayed audio signal with wide-eyed expressions. They had been lucky in that the hotel’s holovid booth had connected to the Ascension servermoon, making accessing Endymion’s stored hacking programs so much easier, but missed Quirinus’ exchange with the Maharani.
Yet Fenris’ conversation with Taranis had more than captivated their attention, for even though the wristpad had only been able to give them sound and not vision, the priest’s cruel tone had left its mark upon their imaginations. As the audio signal faded, Ostara looked up, shocked.
“Politics, religion and a madman,” she murmured. “Never a good combination.”
Chapter Eight
High and low in Hemakuta
RAVANA AWOKE to find the room deserted and her headache gone. Her slumber had been deep enough for her to momentarily forget where she was and it was not until she climbed out of bed and found herself staggering erratically in the low gravity that she remembered the yellow sunlight streaming through the window was that of Epsilon Eridani.
Yawning, she stumbled to the open window and gazed out upon the golden sands and picturesque harbour of Pampa Bay. The moon of Daode was as big as Mercury or Ganymede, but a lot smaller than Ascension and the curve of the close horizon was disconcerting. The sun hung low on the eastern horizon and looked tiny compared to the bloated sun of Ascension, appearing no bigger than Sol would from Mars. Nevertheless, it was pleasantly warm outside, for the cocktail of gases introduced into the atmosphere by terraforming retained the heat as effectively as any greenhouse.