“Ship?” asked Zotz. “What is the status of the flight controls?”
The disembodied voice sounded more ethereal than ever.
“Flight controls are not found,” the AI replied dreamily. “There are no systems within my grasp. I see only the web, the roots and branches of my being.”
“You’re right,” Zotz told Ravana. “The thing’s gone mad.”
“Wait a moment,” murmured Ravana. “The web?”
It had not occurred to her to see if her implant access to the AI still worked. Closing her eyes, Ravana activated the platypus symbol in her mind.
This time, although it changed from purple to green, it failed to resolve into the different system icons, something she assumed was a symptom of the bomb damage. Yet the web-like image of the Platypus she had seen before remained and with the flight systems down the tendrils finally had room to come into their own. She reached out with her mind and felt a tenuous connection with the very fabric of the ship.
Her thoughts raced down the stems like nerve impulses sent to awaken a slumbering giant. Suddenly, the implant link was complete. She was the ship.
“The Platypus is alive,” she breathed. “I can feel it. I can be it!”
“I’m sorry?” asked Philyra.
“The AI’s madness is obviously contagious,” murmured Endymion.
“Be quiet!” snapped Ravana.
Her mind reached along the organic matrix. She felt for where the tendrils wound their way into the main engines, the control thrusters, even the actuators that extended the wings. The implant took her thoughts and shaped them; her will became that of the ship and she felt that if she spread her arms the Platypus would soar. Tentatively, she reached out and in her mind squeezed the thrusters controlling the spin. Her eyes remained closed, but her ears heard the unmistakeable hiss as fuel raced down the pipes towards the external jets.
“How did you do that?” Ostara sounded nervous.
Ravana opened her eyes. The spin of the Platypus compared to that of the airlock ahead was now better matched, though they were approaching at a very odd angle.
“I am the ship!” she murmured, her dark eyes wide and staring.
“You’re scaring me,” muttered Zotz.
Ravana suddenly felt old beyond her years, fierce yet defiant like her Morgan le Fay persona in the ill-fated Gods of Avalon game. Slowly, she turned to face her anxious companions on the flight deck.
“Prepare for landing,” she said. It was the voice of the AI that spoke.
Ostara was left with little to do other than stare. A few deft blasts of the thrusters corrected their angle and the Platypus shot through the rectangular opening on a near-perfect trajectory, the Sun Wukong close behind.
Beyond the outer airlock lay a kilometre-long tunnel through solid rock, leading to the main dock and a second set of doors. Endymion was poised to close the airlock behind them and open the one ahead, but with the holovid channel being used for his hack he had to rely on Surya’s implant conversations with Ganesa to determine where the Sun Wukong was. The whole affair was becoming very complicated indeed.
“They’re clear,” Surya told Endymion.
“Free, free as a bird,” twittered the AI. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee!”
Endymion activated the outer airlock once more to shut the two ships inside the tunnel. The Sun Wukong had fired its thrusters to slow to a halt, yet the Platypus sped on unabated. Beads of sweat broke upon Ravana’s brow and she began to waver, overwhelmed by the effort of concentration. Endymion sent a signal to the Dockside airlock and the doors at the end of the tunnel ahead slid open. On the far side of the chamber stood the great circular portal that led into the interior of the hollow moon itself, sealed shut ever since the Dandridge Cole left the Solar System at the start of its epic voyage.
“We have to stop here,” Ostara urged. “This is where the hangar elevators are.”
“Can’t stop,” muttered Ravana through clenched teeth. “I’ve lost the retros!”
“Retros?” intoned the AI. “Where we’re going we don’t need retros!”
Ostara stared in horror as Ravana groaned in anguish and promptly fainted, slumped limp and exhausted in her seat harness. Philyra gave an anguished yelp and pointed straight ahead. The end of the airlock chamber was rapidly approaching.
“We’re going to crash!” she screamed.
“Not if I can help it,” retorted Endymion.
The silence of the deserted colony ship was abruptly shattered by a dreadful squeal of metal. The great circular door, spurred into life for the first time in more than a hundred years, began to slide open. The Platypus was momentarily buffeted by a sharp gust of wind as air surged into the vacuum of the airlock tunnel, then careered through into the hollow moon itself, clipping the edge of the portal as it went. The vast cavern was in darkness, for the dim glow of the artificial sun dead ahead cast barely enough light to signal its own presence.
“Ravana!” cried Zotz, shaking her shoulder. “Wake up!”
“What’s happened to the sun?” Ostara glanced at her wristpad. “It’s supposed to be two o’clock in the afternoon! And why are we heading straight for it?”
Philyra still pointed ahead. “We are quite definitely going to crash!”
“Tally ho!” intoned the ship.
“What’s wrong with Ravana?” asked Surya, coming to her side.
“I don’t know!” wailed Zotz. “I can’t wake her!”
Behind them, the Sun Wukong settled to a stop in the airlock. Hanuman and Ganesa could only watch helplessly as the Platypus continued into the darkness, speeding through the zero-gravity zone of the hollow moon with no way of stopping.
Aboard, Ostara urged everyone to assume crash positions inside the carousel. Surya and Zotz pulled Ravana’s unconscious body through the crawl tunnel and placed her next to her father. Ostara was the last to leave the flight deck and gazed in awe as the barely-glowing sun grew closer. Less than a minute had passed since they breached the airlock. She reached the hatch to the carousel ladder with moments to spare.
The Platypus smashed through the outer glass lenses of the sun in an explosion of glittering shards. The spacecraft ploughed on through a shattered halo of heating elements and reflectors and onwards into the alloy superstructure. With one last awful screech, the battered hull shuddered and then fell still. Amidst the floating debris, the artificial sun looked like an apple pierced by an arrow from a bow.
Inside the carousel, Miss Clymene looked up from where she had strapped herself into her seat. Her prized trophy had broken loose during the impact and floated just beyond her reach, dented beyond recognition. Ravana’s electric cat peered out of a cupboard door, spat out the rest of Zotz’s theremin and gave a disgruntled hiss.
“No competition is worth this,” Miss Clymene declared, seeing the startled faces of her fellow passengers. “I never knew being a music teacher could be so dangerous!”
Chapter Thirteen
Ghost ship
RAVANA GAZED NUMBLY at the sight of the stricken Platypus wedged in the side of the broken sun, then down at her father’s unconscious form beside her on the back of the hovertruck. Tears welled in her eyes as her fingers reached to touch the bloodied face half-hidden beneath bandages and an oxygen mask.