As
Quirinus and Fenris came over, the woman’s smile faltered at the sight of the
faded and old-fashioned flight suits the four visitors wore, all of which had a
blank space at the shoulder where a space agency flag was usually displayed.
Her companion and three young followers grinned nervously, perhaps out of
relief that the four strangers from space were undeniably human.
“Administrator Verdandi, at your service,” the woman
replied. She seemed relieved that Ostara at least was a natural speaker of
English and not relying on the often-erratic wristpad translator. “Glad to see
you made it down in one piece.”
“Thank you!” Ostara smiled. “This is Quirinus, pilot of
the Platypus ,” she said, indicating the
pilot, who nodded. “Ravana, his daughter,” she continued, putting a hand upon
the girl’s shoulder, “and this is Fenris, chief of staff to Maharani Uma.”
“Hello,” chirped Ravana, giving a little wave. Behind
her, Fenris grunted.
“We are honoured,” said Verdandi, eyeing Fenris coolly.
“This is Rosanna Clymene, one of our gifted tutors here at Newbrum, along with
some of her students.”
“Rosanna!” The gleeful murmur came from the pale slim
girl at the tutor’s side. Ravana smiled, recognising her surprise upon
realising that even teachers had first names.
“This is an unexpected pleasure!” exclaimed Miss Clymene,
sounding both apprehensive and genuinely excited. “This is Bellona, Philyra and
Endymion,” she added, introducing each in turn.
“Please, take a seat,” Verdandi said, indicating the
nearby chairs. “I had arranged for us to use the security office, but an
incident with the fire sprinklers has left it full of some wet and very angry
people. However, as you can see we have the lounge to ourselves.”
“Thank you,” said Quirinus. Ravana’s father seemed
pleasantly at ease, unlike Fenris who had taken on the appearance of a wallaby
caught in an oncoming shuttle’s landing lights.
The window next to the seats looked through to the dome’s
hangar and the berthed Platypus .
Settling into her seat, Ravana watched as a spaceport technician started
hammering at the jammed undercarriage, trying to free the stuck wheel. Inside
the lounge, the security guard stood quietly by the door to the hangar, his
hand resting upon the grip of his regulation stun gun. As the others took their
seats, Ravana became aware that Bellona was staring at her in a most unsettling
way and self-consciously pulled her hair across to hide her scar.
“We were very surprised to receive your message,”
Verdandi told Ostara, once they were all settled. “We had no idea anyone still
lived on the Dandridge Cole , though we
have suspected for a while it was possibly in use by smugglers.”
Quirinus dropped his gaze. “We do need to fly supplies to
the hollow moon from time to time,” he said. “I admit we rarely seek official
clearance for flights to Ascension.”
“A few of my staff did recognise your ship,” Verdandi
remarked. “Though they tell me the illegal spaceport at Lan-Tlanto is your more
usual port of call.”
“Illegal?” Quirinus raised a surprised eyebrow.
“‘Independent’ is a better word.”
“But that’s not why we are here,” interrupted Ostara.
“Indeed,” replied Verdandi. “Your news was disturbing, to
say the least.”
“It is a tricky political situation,” said Fenris,
breaking his silence. “I must ask all of you not to breathe a word of this to
anyone. Should news of the kidnapping reach Yuanshi, it would only add fuel to
the bitter fire of rebellion burning on the moon.”
“Who’s been kidnapped?” asked Philyra, curious.
“Don’t interrupt,” scolded Miss Clymene.
“It was the Raja,” Ravana told Philyra. “I saw it happen.
He’s just a boy.”
“Raja Surya, heir to the old throne of Yuanshi,” Quirinus
added. “He was taken from his home on the Dandridge Cole and we think he was brought here to Ascension.”
“We have
Quirinus and Fenris came over, the woman’s smile faltered at the sight of the
faded and old-fashioned flight suits the four visitors wore, all of which had a
blank space at the shoulder where a space agency flag was usually displayed.
Her companion and three young followers grinned nervously, perhaps out of
relief that the four strangers from space were undeniably human.
“Administrator Verdandi, at your service,” the woman
replied. She seemed relieved that Ostara at least was a natural speaker of
English and not relying on the often-erratic wristpad translator. “Glad to see
you made it down in one piece.”
“Thank you!” Ostara smiled. “This is Quirinus, pilot of
the Platypus ,” she said, indicating the
pilot, who nodded. “Ravana, his daughter,” she continued, putting a hand upon
the girl’s shoulder, “and this is Fenris, chief of staff to Maharani Uma.”
“Hello,” chirped Ravana, giving a little wave. Behind
her, Fenris grunted.
“We are honoured,” said Verdandi, eyeing Fenris coolly.
“This is Rosanna Clymene, one of our gifted tutors here at Newbrum, along with
some of her students.”
“Rosanna!” The gleeful murmur came from the pale slim
girl at the tutor’s side. Ravana smiled, recognising her surprise upon
realising that even teachers had first names.
“This is an unexpected pleasure!” exclaimed Miss Clymene,
sounding both apprehensive and genuinely excited. “This is Bellona, Philyra and
Endymion,” she added, introducing each in turn.
“Please, take a seat,” Verdandi said, indicating the
nearby chairs. “I had arranged for us to use the security office, but an
incident with the fire sprinklers has left it full of some wet and very angry
people. However, as you can see we have the lounge to ourselves.”
“Thank you,” said Quirinus. Ravana’s father seemed
pleasantly at ease, unlike Fenris who had taken on the appearance of a wallaby
caught in an oncoming shuttle’s landing lights.
The window next to the seats looked through to the dome’s
hangar and the berthed Platypus .
Settling into her seat, Ravana watched as a spaceport technician started
hammering at the jammed undercarriage, trying to free the stuck wheel. Inside
the lounge, the security guard stood quietly by the door to the hangar, his
hand resting upon the grip of his regulation stun gun. As the others took their
seats, Ravana became aware that Bellona was staring at her in a most unsettling
way and self-consciously pulled her hair across to hide her scar.
“We were very surprised to receive your message,”
Verdandi told Ostara, once they were all settled. “We had no idea anyone still
lived on the Dandridge Cole , though we
have suspected for a while it was possibly in use by smugglers.”
Quirinus dropped his gaze. “We do need to fly supplies to
the hollow moon from time to time,” he said. “I admit we rarely seek official
clearance for flights to Ascension.”
“A few of my staff did recognise your ship,” Verdandi
remarked. “Though they tell me the illegal spaceport at Lan-Tlanto is your more
usual port of call.”
“Illegal?” Quirinus raised a surprised eyebrow.
“‘Independent’ is a better word.”
“But that’s not why we are here,” interrupted Ostara.
“Indeed,” replied Verdandi. “Your news was disturbing, to
say the least.”
“It is a tricky political situation,” said Fenris,
breaking his silence. “I must ask all of you not to breathe a word of this to
anyone. Should news of the kidnapping reach Yuanshi, it would only add fuel to
the bitter fire of rebellion burning on the moon.”
“Who’s been kidnapped?” asked Philyra, curious.
“Don’t interrupt,” scolded Miss Clymene.
“It was the Raja,” Ravana told Philyra. “I saw it happen.
He’s just a boy.”
“Raja Surya, heir to the old throne of Yuanshi,” Quirinus
added. “He was taken from his home on the Dandridge Cole and we think he was brought here to Ascension.”
“We have
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