Paw-Prints Of The Gods (52 page)

“Ready for take off,”
he announced. His amplified voice echoed back through the crawl
tunnel. “Anyone not strapped into a seat is about to get very
bruised.”

“Ship,” said Ravana.
“Let’s get out of here.”

“Your wish is my
command,” said the AI. “Commencing full thrust now.”

The main engines
roared and the
Platypus
surged down the runway. They were
close to take-off speed when a huge arachnid suddenly scurried
across the airstrip ahead. Ravana gritted her teeth, hauled back on
the aileron control and the spacecraft lifted just as a loud thud
came from below. Her hands firm upon the controls, she used her
implant to switch on the rear-view camera. The display rewarded her
with an image of the mangled remains of a spider spread across the
runway. More importantly, they were in the air.

“That was close,” she
murmured and flexed her throbbing arm. “Too close.”

“Cool,” murmured Zotz,
looking pale.

“Good work,” Quirinus
agreed, glancing from where he tapped busily at a console. “We need
to persuade Verdandi to give you a pilot’s licence. It doesn’t seem
fair that the law makes you wait until you’re eighteen.”

Momus stared at her.
“You haven’t got a frigging licence?”

Ravana grinned. “Out
here, who cares?”

“How about the police
ship behind us?” suggested Zotz.

The rear-view display
showed a flying-wing spacecraft hot on their tail. Ravana accessed
her implant and brought up the ship’s location beacon data.

“The
Alf-Sana
Booma
,” she said. “It must be the Que Qiao agents’ ship.”

“Forget them,” said
Quirinus. “We need to fire the boosters at ten kilometres. It’s
more marginal than I hoped, but I never expected to have this many
people aboard.”

“What if they don’t
bloody fire?” asked Momus.

Quirinus ignored him
and instead looked questioningly at Ravana.

“Altitude is five
kilometres and climbing,” she said, after a lengthy pause. “We’re
on the maximum rate of ascent but still some way off escape
velocity.”

The violent shuddering
of the ship began to ease as they climbed ever higher through the
thinning upper atmosphere. She watched her father’s hand go to the
control panel for the trio of rockets fixed to the hull, fully
aware that what they were about to attempt was risky in the
extreme. The Mars-class
Platypus
was not designed to break
free of a planet with the gravity of Falsafah. If anything went
wrong, the only place they could go was down; most likely in a
jumble of burning wreckage.

“Eight kilometres,”
she said. “I’m bringing in the wings. Ship, how are we doing?”

“Atmospheric ascent is
steady and holding,” responded the AI.

The
Alf-Sana
Booma
shot into view above them at the head of four blazing
spears of thrust. It was a more powerful ship and would have no
problem making orbit. An unexpected pang of jealousy made Ravana
feel quite defensive about the ageing
Platypus
, which had
been a part of her life as long as she could remember. She gave the
console a soothing pat.

“Ten kilometres on my
mark,” she said. “Five, four, three, two...”

Quirinus thumbed the
switch. Ravana felt a surge of relief as all three boosters fired,
instantly shoving her back in her seat to a rumble she felt through
the vibrating hull rather than heard. Startled shrieks drifted from
the carousel and cargo bay, which were promptly drowned by a sudden
chorus of alarms from the console. The ship was being pushed past
its design limits for atmospheric flight and the AI did not like it
one bit.

Momus reached to the
console and silenced the alarms. Through the windscreen, the
curvature of the planet below was becoming more pronounced,
wreathed in atmospheric haze below a pink Falsafah sky darkening to
black. Ravana, her hands drenched in sweat upon the controls,
concentrated on completing their course into orbit. Her headache
had returned, this time on the grounds it felt like her eyeballs
were rattling inside her skull.

After what seemed an
age, the boosters cut out and the shaking of the ship eased. The
stillness that descended upon the flight deck was sudden and sweet,
broken only by the gentle murmur of the main engines. Ravana leaned
back in her chair and sighed with relief.

“Orbital insertion
complete,” the ship informed them. Ravana thought the AI sounded
surprised it was not delivering a more doom-laden missive. “That
was a most exhilarating experience. Main engines powering down.
Interplanetary plasma drive on standby.”

Quirinus stretched
wearily and batted away a stray tendril floating up from the
console. The fading look of panic upon his face spoke volumes.

“Piece of cake,” he
remarked. “Next stop, Barnard’s Star.”

“Cake?” Ravana smiled
and thought of the greys. “I gave the last of it to Nana.”

Her face fell when she
saw the angular blip on the scanner screen. The
Alf-Sana
Booma
, ahead in a higher orbit, was dropping back down and
coming their way.

* * *

The
Alf-Sana
Booma
loomed large through the windscreen. It had not taken the
Que Qiao officers long to bring their ship alongside the
Platypus
and issue their demands to come aboard. The flying
wing approached from above, belly-side up, spraying jets of gas as
it moved to dock its roof airlock with that of the aged freighter.
Ravana and Quirinus both knew the
Platypus
could not outrun
the police flyer, but figured they had nothing to hide. That did
not stop Kedesh looking worried.

Several anxious
minutes later, there was a clunk and the two ships docked. Quirinus
asked Momus to watch over Lilith and Dagan in the carousel until
they found out what the agents wanted, but left the ship’s intercom
switched on so everyone could hear. Fornax and Philyra stayed with
the Dhusarians, eager to question them for Fornax’s coveted scoop.
Being in orbit meant there was no real gravity within either ship,
but with Artorius and Govannon joining Quirinus, Ravana and Kedesh
on the flight deck, plus Zotz, Xuthus, Hestia and Urania all
scrabbling for space to watch from the crawl tunnel, being able to
float did little to ease an uncomfortably crowded situation as they
waited for their visitors to arrive.

Yima was first to
drift through the ceiling hatch. He winced as his bandaged arm
found the handrail before his fingers did, only to receive an
unsympathetic sneer from his colleague behind. Ininna flinched at
the sight of a tendril slowly uncurling towards her neck. Ravana
got the impression the ship’s AI did not relish their presence.
Both agents were quick to reveal they were armed with replacement
guns.

“Welcome aboard,” said
Quirinus, eyeing Ininna carefully. “To what do we owe this
pleasure? Do you want a witness report on how you bravely ran away
from the spiders?”

“Silence!” snapped
Ininna.

Ravana, sat in her
co-pilot’s seat, watched as Ininna manoeuvred across to where
Kedesh calmly drifted. Artorius sat sullenly in Zotz’s vacated
seat, nursing his bandaged hand. The boy was clearly upset; Hestia
had done what she could for his broken finger with the ship’s
first-aid kit, but Ravana’s attempts to speak to him had only
deepened his sulk.

“Marion Kedesh,” spat
Ininna. “Why did you not leave Falsafah when we asked? Now I have
the tedious job of arresting everyone aboard this heap and taking
you all to Aram for interrogation. Have you any idea how much
form-filling that involves?”

“Nobody is going
anywhere,” Quirinus said roughly. He floated poised behind his
pilot’s seat with a hand upon the switch panel for the mining
thrusters. “Did you see the rockets strapped to the hull? It
wouldn’t take much to fire the release mechanism and shoot the top
booster straight through your nice shiny spaceship.”

“You’re bluffing,”
growled Yima. His glance went to the switch beneath Quirinus’
fingertips and a flicker of doubt crossed his face. “We don’t want
trouble.”

“What do you want?”
asked Govannon, his hand on his hat.

“The two Dhusarians we
suspect you of shielding are wanted on terrorist charges,” Ininna
replied, facing her audience one by one. “Kedesh here is a
veritable thorn in our side. We have special orders regarding the
boy; and also for you, Ravana O’Brien.”

“Me?” exclaimed
Ravana, startled. “What did I do?”

“You are not taking my
daughter anywhere!” growled Quirinus.

“Doctor Jones!” cried
Xuthus. “Say something! Don’t let them take Ravana!”

“You’re not taking
Artorius, either!” retorted Ravana.

“We have been
monitoring communications on Falsafah,” Yima told her. “Including
the internal camera feeds at Falsafah Alpha. Your scarred little
face was matched against one of a party of royalist rebels causing
mischief on Yuanshi several months ago. Do you make a habit of
sabotaging research stations?”

Kedesh had not yet
spoken. Ravana watched as she withdrew a familiar vial of blood
from her pocket. Her other hand held the waste cartridge from the
cryogenic capsule.

“This is what your
superiors want,” Kedesh said, offering both to Ininna. “Artorius
and I will play along and come with you, if you let the others go
free.”

“No!” Ravana cried.
“He’s staying with us.”

“You made Stripy and
Nana go away,” muttered Artorius. “I don’t like you anymore.”

Kedesh gave Ravana an
apologetic grin. “Rude as ever, I see. Once the Americans hear Que
Qiao has him, he’ll be back home safe and sound on Avalon in no
time.”

Ravana looked
confused. “I don’t understand.”

“You and me both,”
grumbled Quirinus.

Ininna motioned to
Yima to relieve Kedesh of the vial and cartridge.

“Evidence,” Kedesh
told them. “I’m sure you have basic forensic equipment aboard your
ship. Get some DNA samples and see what you find.”

“Why the sudden
cooperation?” Ininna asked, suspicious. “Is this some kind of
trick?”

“No trick. I want you
to know the state of play if we’re coming with you to Aram. What
happened down there is far bigger than you can possibly
imagine.”

“Bigger than an alien
temple with huge killer spiders coming out of ground?” scoffed
Yima. “Have you done a visual scan of Arallu since you left?
There’s hundreds of the damn things, pouring across the desert and
dropping like flies. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“They’re dying?” asked
Quirinus.

Ininna shrugged. “It
seems they do need oxygen, after all.”

Artorius looked at
Ininna. “I want to go home,” he said.

“You could come with
us,” Ravana suggested gently. “We’re your friends.”

“My friend was
Stripy,” he retorted. “You sent him and Nana down a hole.”

“We will look after
you,” Ininna said to Artorius. “They’re worried about you back on
Avalon. We just need to ask you some questions about the people you
were with on Falsafah and then we’ll take you home. Would you like
that?”

Artorius nodded. He
wriggled free of his seat belt and pulled himself across the cabin
to where the agents waited. Yima pocketed the vial, took Artorius’
hand and led him through the roof hatch into the
Alf-Sana
Booma
. Ravana watched Artorius go with tears in her eyes. She
did not want him to be angry about the departure of the greys.

“A wise decision,”
remarked Ininna. “So he’s important to the Americans?”

“We spoke to Missi,
the AI at Falsafah Alpha,” Kedesh told her. “It was obsessed with
experiments it had continued to run despite there being no human
crew at the station. I guess you know of the eight-legged horrors
loose in the nearby valley. When we were in the alien chamber, I
saw the cut marks on the body of the dead weaver where someone had
removed tissue samples and wondered if there was a connection.”

“Weaver?” asked
Ravana, puzzled.

“We did find evidence
of a previous dig,” Govannon said. “There was an old oxygen
cylinder, see? In an area of recent infill around the
entrance.”

“Someone also left a
bomb for Professor Cadmus,” piped up Hestia. Ininna responded with
a glare, having seemingly forgotten her audience in the crawl
tunnel.

“There was an American
expedition to Arallu around ten years ago,” said Kedesh and smiled
at Govannon’s surprise. “Very hush-hush, if you know what I mean.
My guess is that the samples taken from the chamber were Missi’s
experiment, in that the giant spiders in the valley are clones
grown from the dissected tissue. But Missi also spoke of Artorius
when it referred to other experiments. I think something else was
taken from the chamber.”

“The cryogenic
capsule,” murmured Quirinus. “It was empty.”

“No!” Ravana shivered.
“It can’t be true!”

“You tell me,” said
Kedesh. “How old is Artorius?”

“He said he was
eight,” Ravana said quietly.

Ininna frowned.
“You’re saying the boy is a clone? From the body in the
capsule?”

“Oh my word,” murmured
Govannon.

“Cloning people is
illegal,” said Zotz, from the crawl tunnel. Xuthus, Hestia and a
dubious Urania were whispering excitedly about their theory that
the capsule was from the lost
USS Constellation
. “Except
cyberclones. They’re more like robots.”

“What is it with
Dhusarians and clones?” murmured Ravana. The revelation left her
feeling uneasy. “How did an American capsule get into the chamber?
Are you saying the spiders or the greys somehow brought it to
Falsafah through the portal?”

Kedesh shrugged. “It’s
possible. Somehow, the Dhusarians got wind of it and decided it
fitted with their prophecy. That’s why Jizo called him the star man
and said that stuff about ‘frozen traveller created anew’. The
Americans have a huge exobiology research centre on Avalon, which
could be why Artorius was born and raised in the Alpha Centauri
system.”