by Matt Pike
There were a few switches to the daily routine this morning as I jumped on Ye-jun’s hovercraft with Steph as my co-pilot. There’s a noticeable difference between the two rides - hopefully the Goodwood aliens will pick that up. It’s a small thing, but will show that we are part of a far bigger force. Perception is everything. They are far less likely to mess with us if they feel threatened by unknown danger.
Bringing Steph was deliberate as well. She’s older, for a start, which will help our perception. She’s also got this thing with her character. She’s able to relate to almost anyone in a friendly way, but there’s this I’m-not-to-be-messed-with vibe we felt was the best balance for what may potentially await. I sure feel a lot more comfortable with the thought of her by my side that Jessie for this one.
Oh, Ye-jun and Asha also joined us for the trip - in Phoenix. They were essentially coming as close-by backup if anything went pear-shaped. Not that there was really much they were going to be able to do if things went south either at the jail or Goodwood, but having someone nearby was better than nothing. Even if it was just for moral support.
We also had an esky full of fish, thanks to a night session by Nate and his crew, and the back-up work they did on the beach from dawn. There is a generous amount of fish we hope will be a bit of goodwill for whatever comes out of today. Sure, there’s risks - and we felt it - but there was also so much good that could come out of a successful meeting.
*
Before all that, we still had a much anticipated date with destiny at the jail.
I was a little more paranoid as I approached today. Steph told me she felt it, too. Just having the idea of potentially being played was enough to make it feel very real. It became part of my mindset as I neared, part of everything. It was probably a healthy balance, more than any true paranoia, which was good. I did miss yesterday’s ignorant bliss and naive enthusiasm, though.
The feeling only increased as we reached the jail, then made our way up to the postal service. We played it with the stealthy silence I did on the first morning I returned. The coast was clear, though. At least surviving the increased stresses was rewarded with a new message.
It is time to meet. Tomorrow, as the sun rises, by the robot hand. I will be joined by another. They will be new to you. Just you and one other, please.
I’m not sure how to describe the gazillion emotions that hit me reading those words. Nervous, excited, concerned, curious just scratch the surface of it. I do know my chest tightened at the thought of the meeting and what it may lead to.
Having the robot hand as a meeting point was something that filled me with more confidence we were dealing with Kent, though. For a start, the term is ours and ours alone - for a landmark west of the city I doubt any Norwood crew have ever seen. Secondly, if this was some planned ambush situation, it’s extremely unlikely they’d make it so far from the oval. It’s a location they can’t possibly be familiar enough with to plan an elaborate move around, even if they did know of its existence in the first place.
Steph saw things in the same light.
Don’t get me wrong. The thought of a two-on-two meeting made things a whole lot more real. It was a bit daunting and official, like some sort of drug deal. Makes part of me wonder about why they want only two of us. Yet, at the same time, I get it - even numbers and a clear understanding around that. Makes sense and, really, what can you do?
Affirmative on your suggestion. Looking forward to the meeting under the conditions you described.
We put the message in the postbox and left.
*
After updating Ye-jun and Asha on the news, and hearing their similarly optimistic read on the situation, we convoyed to Goodwood.
We left Ye-jun and Asha in our wake as the atmospheric conditions started to reveal the large Big W/Woolworths sign that marked our destination. I remember Ye-jun holding his fist up, shaking it back and forth to me as we continued on - his way of showing he was barracking for us and a safe outcome.
We parked the hovercraft in the same spot as yesterday, got out and waited. It wasn’t long before a couple of aliens came into view. We waved our acknowledgement, then held up the esky to signal we were ready for a trade. One of the aliens held up his hand to wait.
After a few minutes Maria and Jimmy were back with their two goons in tow. In a positive sign, they didn’t have the full cast with them.
After introductions, she had her cronies grab the esky and off we went on foot. We walked to the other end of the car park, across Goodwood Rd and into Westbourne Park Primary School - their base. Maria kept the conversation flowing the entire time - either talking about their crew, what they’d done to survive or overloading us with questions about our experience. It was a lot to take in. She was clearly smart, but had this scattery persona that kept our nerves at ease. Every now and then Jimmy would chip in with some insight or sharp question. In all, it was as easy as it could be with two large men following behind you as you walked into the heart of another crew’s territory, I guess.
We must’ve been the talk of the town as it seemed all of their numbers came out to watch our arrival. They were literally rushing out to line our path through the school. They just looked at us. They weren’t sneering or negative in any way, but it was definitely very off-putting - perhaps slightly disturbing.
At that point, I had definitely come to terms with the fact we were the aliens in this arrangement. But despite our official E.T. status, the massive, massive outnumber we faced, and that fact they were all dressed in the same uniform with the green bandanas, I didn't feel threatened. Don't get me wrong, it was tense, and I was nervous as hell. But beyond all that I didn't feel like I was in immediate danger.
That was mostly due to Maria. She talked - a lot. From things they did to survive, how many they had in their crew (85), how many they’d lost, who did what, their strengths and weaknesses. It was quite overwhelming, but also trusting in a way.
She clearly hadn’t had the experiences we’d had with the other crews. I mean, if she’d been through what we had, there’s no way she would’ve invited us into the heart of their compound.
We were ushered into what seemed like their war room - but there were no signs of war, just maps with all sorts of markings on them. Not that I wanted to look at anything in too much detail. I wasn't really sure what the done thing was in that circumstance. Still, this was their inner sanctum. They either weren't worried about what we knew... or weren't planning on letting us out again to tell anyone about it. I knew it was the former option, but that in itself blew my mind.
It was an entirely different way of existing. And so foreign to what we had known.
We sat down to talk. Maria, Jimmy, the goons - who we found out were her sons Craig and Aaron - plus another, Naomi (maybe 40, again she came across as intelligent).
They offered us drink and food, then inspected our gift. They could barely hide their excitement at the pile of fresh fish. They handed us the care package of condiments. It was equally generous. I nearly wept when I saw the variety of flavours that would soon change my life.
For the next 40 minutes we spoke. Shared the experiences that led us each to be there in that moment. It was strange, surreal but really... pleasant. That's a word I don't use often, but it captured what the encounter was like.
Maria did most of the talking, with Jimmy and Naomi also contributing. It was an interesting little leadership dynamic and I found it hard to work out where the true centre of it was. Craig and Aaron just watched. If there was anything that killed the pleasant it was them. There was something dodgy about them, something I didn't trust. But their mum was too smart for them, which helped put the situation at ease somewhat.
They spoke of the trade ring they had set up with other communities. Things started to make sense around this group. They had formed peaceful alliances with those around them.
There was a big community at the Mitcham shopping centre, maybe 300 strong, and another further south along Goodwood Rd that had h
oled up in a church, with a nearby IGA helping feed their food supplies. In between were a couple of smaller groups, which mostly survived on scavenging. In between all that, two vast areas of the above tsunami line suburbia had been wiped out by large ejecta strikes on rock night.
They were fearful of anything north of Cross Rd as they'd lost a couple of groups that way. That was enough to make it off limits for them. They even called it the badlands. I felt a little badass, knowing I’d come to them as a survivor of the badlands.
Their fear of what lay north grew infinitely stronger as they heard our stories of life on the other side. Honestly, I’ve never had such a captive audience. They were hanging on every word. The scale of the bloodshed we’d seen horrified them. To be honest, replaying it all in this place so far removed from it all made me see it again in a different light - it was horrific!
It wasn’t just telling our story, it was endearing us to them. They got to hear a little bit about our motivation for the oval - we wanted to build a world that could survive beyond the current food stocks. Norwood were just there to take. I mean, I know I have developed a biased position on the matter in recent months, but it was good to see some neutrals seeing us as the good guys.
All of which brought the conversation around full circle. Between their avoidance of the badlands, the tsunami line and the arrangements with the other groups, their stretch of land was bordered by Cross Rd to the north, Range Rd to the south and everything west of the trainline. That was a limited sandpit to play in and find food for nearly 100 people, even with the shopping centre.
That’s when she hit us with the news that made even more sense of this meeting - they were running out of food. They had enough for another few months, maybe until the start of winter, but not much beyond. They'd dried up any scavenging sources both within their region and below the tsunami line. They'd exhausted everything. If winter hit and they didn’t have a new plan, they were dead.
If they wanted to live, they’d have to move.
That's where we would come in.
Maria then started to put a case forward as to what their group could bring to ours. It was only then we really started to get a sense of how desperate their plight was. It also made our little patch of the world, and the transport we had to get there, seem oh so much more appealing. Jimmy would add bits and pieces around what Maria was saying, when an opportunity presented itself. They had this rhythm that made me think they were a couple. If not, they’d certainly spent a lot of time together.
Anyway, this was their moment to give us the big sell, and sell it they did.
The one line I remember most was Jimmy saying, “My people and your people are aligned - connected.” I didn’t know at that moment if he meant his Goodwood crew or his aboriginal heritage but, either way, I knew he was giving us admiration for what we’d done and saying we could belong together at a greater level. High praise.
Anyway, the pitch, Maria’s words per minute, the pressure in the moment - it was quite overwhelming. I know Steph was feeling the same.
It’s funny how much you can communicate without words, especially when you know someone. One look exchanged and we had agreed on the course of action.
Steph told Maria we needed to take the offer back to our leaders to discuss the decision. If they only knew we were nearly 20 percent of the entire population and, well, half the leadership team.
That would be a story for another day, should things go that way.
We decided to reconvene in a couple of days, complete another trade of fish for condiments and notify them of our decision.
With that, we left. Maria, Jimmy and the others walked us back to the hovercraft. The goons - erm, Maria’s sons - carried our new supplies. She noticed the hovercraft was a different one than the other day, too. It was a meaningless little detail, but it gave me a little smile.
Soon we were headed home, Ye-jun and Asha on our wing. Yep, home, that place with no creature comforts that I can’t decide if I loathe or love. I did know it warmed my heart to think I was heading back there after meeting the aliens.
My mind soon turned to tomorrow’s secret meeting and the endless possibilities that could come out of the other side of it. It hurts my head to think about. It all does really. I mean, I can honestly say I have no idea how all these parts of this city and our world will combine together - none. I just know things are definitely going to keep changing - the world still turns, as Kent said. Anyway, I’m not sure if there was ever a supercomputer big enough to process this much data. I had the feeling no matter how much I did try not to think about it, it wasn’t going to make one bit of difference to the result. That seemed a good enough reason to try not to.
It was/is impossible not to.
I guess it’s only EVERY WAKING MOMENT.
Stupid brain.
*
Back at camp and it’d been a productive morning on the shelter. We would all be sleeping under cover tonight. So, so good.
Oh, obviously cue significant theorising about our impending encounter with Kent and mystery person. If there was ever a break in conversation on that, it’d soon be filled with talk about the Goodwood aliens and the pros and cons of progressing that relationship further.
Jonesy had been busy, too. Crafting his peg leg had brought him back. His next project was a good one to take us all forward. He had constructed this beautiful memorial from some of the found objects in the dune junk pile. It would be a fine legacy for those who fell protecting the future at the oval.
How to best describe it? It was this pillar of mesh-type metal that stood nearly two metres above the ground. On top was this globe. It was constructed of 14 pieces of metal, all bent in and around each other into the shape of a circle. On the front of the mesh pillar, he’d placed a metal plate, with each of their names engraved.
It was stunning.
As was his idea of where to place it. He wanted the monument positioned on the beachside edge of the ejecta crater. It was this perfect location, where you could best see the power of rock night, while gazing at the hope for the future as the waves rolled in on the other side of the crater.
He also wanted the pillar lined up with the distant water horizon - well, as far as you could see on the best day. This would leave the globe floating in the sky above.
So, while most of the camp put the finishing touches to the shelter, Ye-jun and I helped Jonesy’s too-independent-for-his-own-good ass into Phoenix, along with the monument and a couple of bags of cement and headed to the crater.
*
Tonight’s dinner was one I’ll never forget, and I’m not even talking about the tartare sauce I dipped each bite of fish in. We hovered everyone down to the crater. We already had a raging fire going, all ready to cook dinner and eat by. We all faced the monument and the reddest sunset I could remember in a long, long time. Well, when I say monument, we had covered it in a sheet, ready for a grand reveal. After the fish was long since consumed and the drinks were flowing, Jonesy hobbled over to do the honours, just as if the sun was touching the horizon.
His words were amazing. He spoke about each of the fallen, what they brought to our community and what they meant. As well as what they gave their lives trying to protect. He tied it all in with the themes of the environment in which we stood - destruction, beauty and new hope. There wasn’t a dry eye around that fire when he removed the sheet to reveal his creation. The ball of 14 intertwined pieces of metal seemed as if the sun was glowing from within them.
It was beautiful, fitting and powerful. Magic, even. I mean, I felt it. Something bigger than everyone there in that moment. As if the monument, or us being there in that moment with it, somehow combined all those elements - destruction, beauty and creation - and brought it to life. I could feel them there with me - the 14.
It wasn’t just me either. We all felt the moment. It really was magic.
For the rest of that night, and for the first time since we’d landed seaside, we didn’t talk about every
thing that was going on. We didn’t theorise, or plan, or strategise, or any of the million and one other things we normally did. We drank and talked about the 14 - our friends. We laughed, we cried, we remembered.
*
March 7, 2015
Today’s morning walk with Alyce, well, it wasn’t exactly a morning walk. We were up before dawn, got the fire back to life and just sat in each other’s arms for a few minutes before I had to head off with Steph. It was enough, just what I needed to clear my mind of all things, well, anything but being with her. With so much up in the air right now and so much dependent on what would unfold later in the morning, it was just the circuit-breaker I needed to not think myself into a mental meltdown.
Alyce needed it, too. After dedicating her time to nursing Kelly and Jonesy back to health, she’s at a loose end. She’s helping out here, there and everywhere as things come up, but she needs a project to sink her teeth into. I totally get it.
Not only that, the two of us have been so busy, if it wasn’t for these moments, we’d barely spend any waking time together at all. You start to feel that over a period of time. I mean, if you count the lead-up to the war for the oval, the battle, the aftermath and, now, the relocation, there really hasn’t been that much time together. It’s a huge life bonus having someone to connect with like I have with Alyce. It’s just weird when things get so busy you hardly have a second to do it.
Still, we have the little looks and smiles exchanged when we get close to each other around camp. Those are great, just a little touch of home that can see you through. The morning time is something else altogether - even the lite version as it was today. Being in her arms and being able to forget about the rest of the world, that’s priceless.
*
It all passed in a flash, though. I was soon headed east with Steph again, this time on Phoenix. Ye-jun and Asha did follow close behind, but tailed off and parked well short of the remains of the entertainment centre.
We had nicknamed the meeting spot because some of the twisted remains of the building just looked like a creepy robot hand reaching out from the ash. You could not look at it and call it anything else. Certainly the entertainment centre fell well short as an apt description these days.
