by Geoff Palmer
Tim looked at his friend in alarm. Norman mouthed, ‘The ship.’
54 : House Arrest
Alice approached the roadblock, her heart pounding so loudly she thought the soldiers must hear it through the open window of her car.
‘What’s the problem?’ she asked as casually as she could, keeping both hands on the steering wheel to steady them.
‘Just a routine exercise, ma’am,’ one of them said, leaning in the window. ‘Would you mind stepping out of the vehicle please?’
Alice did so.
‘May I see some identification?’
She took her license from her handbag as a squad of soldiers examined her car, popping the boot and bonnet, checking the underside with mirrors. They opened all four doors and checked the inside too.
‘What’s this?’ one of them snapped, pointing at the blanket-draped cage on the back seat that had been secured with a seat belt.
‘Parakeet,’ Alice said quickly. ‘He’s dozing. Please don’t disturb him. He can be very noisy in a small car.’
The soldier used the barrel of his gun to lift a corner of the blanket, enough to confirm it really was a birdcage.
Alice held her breath. The mice stayed hidden.
The first soldier returned from radioing in her details. ‘Where are you heading, Ms Jones?’
‘Home. To Greymouth. I’ve been visiting my sister.’
‘Right you are,’ he said and handed back her license. ‘Thank you Ms Jones. Carry on.’
* * *
‘Brilliant! Your stupid robot got us arrested!’ Coral hissed as a stern looking policewoman closed the lounge door on them.
‘You didn’t think it was so stupid when you used him to threaten Alice,’ Tim said, checking the doors that led to the veranda and finding them locked. ‘Anyway, we haven’t been arrested. We’re wanted for questioning once that army guy gets back.’
‘And what are we going to tell him? “Oh, we just built an advanced robot for fun.”’
‘Hey, you’re the one who said don’t go near the caravan. We could’ve brought him with us. Or at the very least I could have stuck a disassembly disc on him.’
‘And got yourself shot in the process.’
‘I didn’t know you cared.’
‘Yeah, well, blood splatters and I like this T-shirt.’
She sighed and slumped into one of the armchairs. ‘Look, I saw some of the gear those guys had pointed at us: audio, video, infra-red, telescopic lenses and god knows what else. I don’t know what they thought we were up to, but if they’d spotted us slipping on control gloves and tapping out commands, they’d have been on to us straight away. And then they’d want to interview Albert. On his own. The way they’re carrying on, they must think he’s some sort of terrorist. You heard that radio broadcast. They’re looking for guns and explosives.’
Tim went to the window and looked out at the activity outside. ‘I know who’s behind all this: Cakeface. We should never have let her leave the reserve.’
‘OK, so the Sentinels meddled with her memories. To what end? They don’t know about the ... ’ Coral checked herself and looked around in case Smudge was nearby, ‘... about the you-know-what. Or even Artificial Albert. So why call the in the Feds?’
‘I think it’s like that Smudge attack. They can’t really do anything. They’re just harassing us.’
‘Speaking of the you-know-what.’ Ludokrus said, studying the calculator. ‘You are sure of what you see? I get no signal.’
Tim and Norman exchanged a look. Nodded.
Ludokrus frowned. ‘Maybe she is still too far.’
There was a knock at the door and Aunt Em entered with a pitcher of raspberry cordial and a plate of biscuits. She was escorted by the policewoman who cautioned her against saying anything. But she didn’t need to speak. Her expression said it all.
As she left, they heard a key turn in the lock.
‘What are they doing that for? It’s not as if we’re going anywhere.’
The sound made the lounge feel like a prison cell. A comfortable cell — there was TV, a sofa, armchairs and plenty of books and magazines — but the prospect of being interviewed by the major in charge of the operation hung over them like a cloud. What could they say? How could they possibly explain Artificial Albert?
Ludokrus scowled at the calculator. ‘Also, the you-know-what is early. Should not be here for one more hour at least. But this show me nothing. No arrive time, no where she is heading.’
‘What sort of range does it have?’ Norman said. ‘I was thinking that if the you-know-what avoids the reserve and heads, say, to the other side of town, would the calculator still pick it up?’
‘Twenty kilometre? No, too far. Would need a good aerial.’
‘We would never find her in time anyway,’ Alkemy said. ‘Albert say she will not wait long.’
‘What about using the scanner blocks? They’re designed to pick up signals and they are scattered all over the place. Could we reprogram them remotely and use them as receivers for the calculator?’ He drew the receiver from his backpack.
‘Signal type from spacecraft is much different, but maybe,’ Ludokrus said.
They hunched over the receiver, trying different combinations.
‘And we should get our stories straight,’ Tim said to Coral. ‘For when that guy gets back from the reserve.’
Coral shook her head. ‘No, we shouldn’t, because we shouldn’t be here when he gets back from the reserve. These guys have a you-know-what to catch.’
‘How do we get away without the army and police coming after us?’ He gestured at the locked door. ‘And how do we get out of here for a start?’
‘Ssshh. Let me think.’
Coral paced the room while Norman and Ludokrus worked on the receiver. ‘No, no, try ... How about ...? Maybe if we ... Yeah ... Yeah, that’s it!’
‘It work?’ Alkemy said.
Ludokrus, still hunched over the screen, nodded. ‘But this cannot be right. You check please.’ He handed it to Norman.
‘What’s not right?’ Tim said.
Norman studied the display, made some adjustments, then shook his head. ‘No, that’s what I get too. No doubt about it. Your ship’s headed straight for Gizzard Gully.’
55 : Need to Know
‘Cannot be.’ Alkemy exclaimed. ‘How can our ship go there? That place is full of Sentinel!’
‘It’s not your ship’s fault,’ Norman said. ‘Albert the super-brain didn’t spot them either.’
‘And it’s probably the nearest unpopulated open space round here right now,’ Tim said, thinking of the area around the hut.
‘We must warn her. Say to go elsewhere.’
‘How? You have a satphone? Or maybe a transmitter?’
Alkemy sighed and stared at the locked door. ‘Does not matter now anyway. We cannot reach.’
‘Actually, I think we can.’ Coral said, snatching up a sheepskin rug from in front of the fireplace and throwing it to her. ‘Here. Raw materials. You’re going to need the calculator. Meanwhile, you guys come and help me with the sofa. I want it directly in front of the TV with its back to the door.’
‘What do I make with this?’ Alkemy asked, holding up the rug.
‘Wigs,’ Coral said. ‘One for each of you. Exactly the same colours as your current hair.’
* * *
Coral studied the carpet. ‘About there, I think,’ she said to herself, then dropped the cordial jug. It landed with a thud, throwing a crimson pool over the beige carpet. In a much louder voice she yelled, ‘Oh you idiot!’ then raced for the door and rattled the handle.
The policewoman was quick, but Coral was quicker. ‘Spilt the drink,’ she snapped. ‘That stuff stains!’ and pushed her way past, making for the kitchen.
The policewoman looked at the line of guilty faces turned towards her from the sofa. They turned back and slouched down so that only the tops of their heads were visible. Tim turned up volume on the TV.
‘Can you get me a refill please?’ She held out the bucket and continued working on the stain. ‘Warm water’ll be fine.’
The policewoman hesitated, glanced back at the sofa, then went across the hall to the bathroom. As she emptied the bucket into the bath, Alkemy and Ludokrus followed her out, walking on tiptoe and darting up to Tim’s room.
The policewoman glanced back and started refilling the bucket.
Tim and Norman adjusted the wigs, balancing them on cushions and the upturned legs of an occasional table. Coral checked their positioning and gave them a thumbs-up. They readied themselves behind the door.
‘And some towels as well please,’ Coral called. ‘In the cupboard on your left.’ The figure across the hall turned. Coral waved Tim and Norman out, then dipped her fingers in the pitcher and splashed some of the remaining cordial on herself.
The policewoman returned and stood in the doorway, watching Coral finish up. When she was done, she handed her the bucket and mop, then looked down at her T-shirt. ‘Oh great! I’m going to have to put this in to soak. Can I change into something else?’
The policewoman nodded, checked the head-backs on the sofa, then escorted her out.
‘I’m all sticky too. I need a shower.’
‘Don’t be long,’ she said, relocking the lounge door.
* * *
Coral turned on the shower then left the bathroom — via the window. Ludokrus helped her out and she dropped into the garden beside the others. ‘I reckon we’ve got about ten minutes. Have you guys got our next move figured out?’
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
Tim and Norman spoke together.
‘Oh c’mon, I’ve done my bit!’
‘I say we go over the garden fence then straight across the fields,’ Tim said. ‘It’s the quickest way.’
‘Too exposed,’ Norman said. ‘They’ll see us from miles away.’
‘It’ll be all right once we get to the road. There’s plenty of vegetation along both sides. And a ditch.’
‘But we actually have to get there without being seen. The safest way is up the drive. We’ll be under cover all the way.’
‘Yeah, and the guys on the gate are just going to let us march straight through.’
‘Look, it’s the army. People only get told what they need to know. The guys on the gate won’t have a clue about Albert, or us being held for questioning.’
‘I can’t believe they’ll let us walk straight out.’
‘Why not? Just act normal. Be casual about it. Like you really don’t expect to be stopped.’
‘You’re mad!’
‘Let’s try it. You and I. If we get caught ... well, it doesn’t matter. We haven’t got a ship to catch. And if they do pick us up, we can make a fuss and create a diversion so the others can get away across the fields. ’
Tim frowned. It wasn’t much of a plan, but he couldn’t think of a better one.
A minute later, the pair of them pushed through a stand of flax partway down the drive and walked casually towards the gate. Two soldiers wearing disruptive pattern camouflage uniforms stood at ease on the far side of it. They stiffened and turned when they heard footsteps behind them.
‘It’ll be late,’ Norman said to Tim. ‘It always is.’ He called to the soldiers, ‘Has the bus been past yet?’
They exchanged a glance and shook their heads.
‘Told you,’ he said to Tim.
‘Should you kids be—?’ the one on the right began.
‘I’ve got to make sure this lot catches the Haast bus,’ Norman continued. ‘Don’t want them missing school tomorrow, right?’ He gave Tim a playful punch.
Tim scowled. The guard on the right grinned and unlatched the gate.
‘C’mon you guys, get a move on,’ Norman called over his shoulder.
The others emerged, wary at first, only relaxing when they saw the soldier holding the gate for them.
‘The bus stop’s about fifty metres further down, just around that bend.’ Norman pointed left, the opposite direction to the reserve.
The others moved on. Norman lingered, nodding at the gate guards’ guns. ‘Are they Steyrs?’
They nodded.
‘You should join the SAS. They get M4 carbines. They look much cooler!’
Tim elbowed him. ‘Come on Norman, don’t want to miss the bus.’ When they were up the road and out of earshot he hissed, ‘You can overdo that being casual bit, you know!’
56 : Vapour Trails
Crystal Starbrite sipped her coffee, flicked her hair and drummed her fingers on the tabletop, willing her satellite phone to ring. Seconds later it complied.
Eric looked up from the newspaper he was reading.
She checked the caller ID. ‘It’s the office.’
‘Aren’t you going to answer it?’
‘Let it ring for a bit. I don’t want them to think we’re just swanning around waiting for them to call us back.’
‘But we are just swanning around waiting for them to call us back.’
‘Crystal Starbrite.’
‘Crystal! Love it! Awesome stuff!’ She held the phone away from her ear. The voice was loud enough for Eric to hear. ‘Barry and the team have reviewed what you’ve got so far and given you the green light. We’ll do a live cross on the news, so get yourselves set up somewhere interesting, and the In Depth team want a half hour special on what’s going on down there. Play up the aliens and the mystery angle. You know the score.’
‘Budget?’
‘Whatever it takes.’
Crystal smiled. ‘So Barry liked my pitch?’
‘Don’t get too cocky. The army and police that really swung it for you.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘All this “training exercise” nonsense. Normally their PR people are over us like a rash with something like that, but all we can get this time is “No comment” and referrals to the Chief of Defence Force. And his people have stopped taking calls. There’s talk of terrorist plots, the Prime Minister’s called an emergency Cabinet meeting, and on top of all that we’ve had several reports of vapour trails in your area.’
‘Vapour trails?’
‘Yeah, but get this: according to Civil Aviation, there are no scheduled aircraft movements anywhere nearby. None. Zip. Zero. Zilch.’
‘You said “trails”. Does that mean there’s more than one?’
‘One coming in from the south, one from the west. Both heading your way.’
‘Heading where, exactly?’
‘If they keep on as they are and you join the dots on a map, they’ll meet near the coast about twenty K from that town you’ve been staying in.’
‘You mean Rata?’
‘That’s the spot. So drag your bums out of the Jacuzzi and get out there and get me that story!’
The phone clicked off. Crystal stared at it. ‘But we’re not in Rata,’ she told it. ‘We can’t get back there.’
Eric put down his newspaper. ‘Maybe we can,’ he said.
* * *
Tim had never paid much attention to the land opposite the farm before. It was part of the same conservation estate that protected the reserve and was consequently overgrown and wild. Its roadside border was an unbroken line of toitoi, which made for perfect cover once they forced their way through it and doubled-back, and there was even a track of sorts along the far side.
Opposite the farm entrance, Norman burrowed back into the foliage, returning to report no change in the gate guards’ attitude. It looked like their deception hadn’t been spotted yet.
They proceeded at a steady jog, pausing now and then so that Alkemy could catch up. Several times Tim saw Ludokrus glance anxiously at his watch.
‘I hope the bikes are OK,’ Coral said. ‘How far out would the army cordon go?’
‘Probably to the edge of the reserve,’ Norman said. ‘If it goes out any furt
her, we’re stuffed.’
The toitoi had been cut back around the Rata Road intersection so they were forced to climb up through some low scrub, but it did give them a clear view of the reserve. A ring of troops surrounded the campground, vehicles were parked haphazardly on the verge nearby, and the caravan was illuminated by bright lights inside and out as forensic teams examined every surface.
‘So much for leaving only footprints,’ Tim muttered.
‘What will you tell them when we are go?’ Alkemy asked.
‘Doesn’t really matter then, does it? We just need to get close enough to stick a few disassembly discs on things.’
They followed the scrub down to a bubbling stream then scrambled along its bank until they reached a culvert running under Rata Road. ‘Through here,’ Norman said, leading them into the low concrete tunnel. ‘We can cross the road without being seen.’
The stream skirted the back of the resource pit. They found the bikes where they’d left them, past the pyramid of appliances, hidden in some waist-high ferns. As they eased them out, the sound of raised voices and barked orders reached them from the reserve. A vehicle took off with a furious skid. They froze, fearing they’d triggered an unseen alarm. It raced directly towards them, then, at the intersection, it swung hard left and headed for the farm.
‘Must discover we are gone,’ Ludokrus said, helping his sister on to the back of his bike. ‘Good idea to make them think we go the other way.’
They started the bikes and proceeded cautiously, edging along the grass verge at the side of Rata Road, moving one at a time, keeping close to the fence line and the shelter of the overhanging trees. But once they reached the first bend, they accelerated hard.
Norman crouched over the handlebars like a speedway rider, forcing Tim — riding pillion — to do likewise, but they were now so familiar with the bikes that when they reached the turn-off to the old mining track, none of them even bothered slowing down. Three bikes and five riders crashed through the undergrowth, shot up the side of the low hill that hid the start of the track, soared through the air in graceful, exhilarating arcs, and landed smoothly on the other side.
