Free Hollow Moon by Steph Bennion Page B

Endymion was
examining the contents of a snack food vending machine. There seemed no reason
to keep them here.
    “Yes, you can go,” she confirmed. “Class dismissed. Don’t
forget the band rehearsal tomorrow morning!”
    “Goodbye, miss!” called Bellona.
    “Creep,” muttered Philyra, pulling her away.
    Miss Clymene gave them a half-hearted wave, then turned
back to the clerk.
    “Now, where were we?” she asked.
    “Stuck on Ascension without a flight,” the clerk replied.
    “You can’t help me at all?” Miss Clymene asked. “Here I
am, honoured with an invitation to represent the good people of Newbrum at the
Epsilon Eridani peace conference, and there’s nothing you can do to get myself
and my class to Daode?”
    “How about I give you a jet pack each and a map of the
Milky Way,” snapped the clerk, finally losing her patience. “Or maybe you could
bribe some dodgy freighter pilot to take you and your class as rare breeds
livestock.”
    “How rude!” Miss Clymene exclaimed, a blush of
indignation colouring her cheeks. She paused, then thought about what the clerk
had said. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”
    “What? Using jet packs?” retorted the clerk. “I was
joking.”
    “No,” replied Miss Clymene. “Finding a mercenary with a
freighter for hire.”
     
* * *
     
    Endymion gave up trying to get anything from the vending
machine. He had no credit left in his account and the anti-hack software of the
machine had been upgraded to a new protocol he had not seen before. A second vending
machine was broken, burbling quietly to itself and muttering ‘Reboot me!’ over
and over again in a muted electronic wail. Endymion decided to head further
into the spaceport, away from the entrance to the main city dome. It was a
while before he noticed Bellona and Philyra had followed.
    “Where are we going?” asked Bellona.
    “We? I’m going to drop by work,” he told his sister,
coming to a standstill. His latest job was as an apprentice ground crew
operative at space-traffic control, which more often than not involved making
tea for everyone else. “I don’t know where you’re going.”
    “Can’t we come with you?” asked Philyra. “I’m bored.”
    Endymion gave a non-committal shrug and carried on
walking, Bellona and Philyra trotting behind him. Soon they were passing through
the main departure lounge, where around two dozen people were waiting to board
a flight to CSS Stellarbridge ,
Ascension’s orbital space dock. The small delta-winged shuttle was visible
through the window, parked in the hangar outside the lounge but still within
the spaceport dome. Ghostly monochrome advertising holograms drifted through
the room on a wave of banal chatter as each tried to sell upgraded hotel
bookings and last-minute insurance to the travellers. Endymion glanced at the
waiting crowd and then groaned, recognising them as students and tutors from the
academy at Bradbury Heights. As he and the girls hurried past, three of the
students left the group and stood in their path, blocking their way.
    “Xuthus!” murmured Philyra, fluttering her eyelashes at
the boy in front.
    “Whoopee,” muttered Bellona. The girl beside him was
Maia.
    Xuthus, Maia and the boy with them all wore distinctive
black and gold flight suits, no doubt bought especially for the trip to Daode.
The spray-tanned American families who lived in Bradbury Heights all had some
connection with the large pharmaceutical companies based there and as such
benefited from the high salaries paid. Unfortunately, there were always those
who revelled in displaying their wealth. Endymion scowled.
    “Clear off, Xuthus,” he growled. “I’ve seen enough slimy
bugs in the Ravines today without needing to look at you too.”
    Xuthus gave a hollow laugh. “Well, if it isn’t the mighty
players of Newbrum,” he said scornfully. “The entire band, in fact. All three
of you.”
    “It’s not size that matters,” retorted Endymion.