by Ged Maybury
She touched the screen, triggering the voice-activated search function.
“Show me the minerals of interest to the colony.”
“Globally?” asked the composite voice of the skimmer.
“Oh; ah; no. Just in this area.” She touched the screen. It fluttered with colour. There were minerals everywhere. “Widen the view. Wider. That's good.”
She could see the coast with the big river to the south, north of that the forested lands where most of the Supials lived, and further inland the area she thought of as the escarpments – a rugged scatter of heights, cliffs and twisting gullies. To the west of that again was a wide expanse of flat lands that reached far inland – probably the area the Supials refered to as ‘the Outback’.
She recognised the place Judkins had pointed to that day on the mother-ship and tried to think like a scientist, like Judkins would: So: the river for safer pod landings and water supply. Close to minerals of course. Umm, good soil ... and what else? Shelter? Yes: timber from the forest. Or would they just want to find caves to start with? Mica had mentioned caves!
Kynn cast her mind back to the science books Dr K had slipped her during those long months in orbit. What did she know about caves? ... Limestone!
“Show me the distribution of limestone. Just limestone. Here.”
The image changed, showing a new pattern of blotches. There was a lot of limestone just to the east of the inland river.
She fingered that spot, “Give me a close-up here, please.”
The picture got worse. It was a closer view, but more pixilated.
“Is this the best there is?” she asked.
“This was compiled from orbit.” explained the computer, “Nothing better is available.”
She snorted angrily, like Judkins might have done, and said, “Show me just the photos then, thanks.”
For five minutes she scrolled them across the screen, magnified them until they just became blurs. She peered a long time at one particular photo.
Is that it? she wondered, those three vague spots?
She sighed, shut off the screen, and climbed off the seat, careful not to tread on the delicate solar panels that were still laid out. It was mid-afternoon and very hot. She needed water, and rest. In fact she was exhausted beyond all reason.
Suddenly, unbidden, her mind filled yet again with those terrible memories: the people running in the smoke, gunshots, the screaming of the Supials...
She stopped, swaying like a tree in a storm, and spoke inside her mind. Never again, Father, never again! I will stop you this time, Father, I will stop you!
MEETING
KYNN WAS BACK AT THE skimmer at dusk, folding in the panels. It had finally reached full charge. Once again she spoke to the computer, calling up the maps. She asked for more information: the range of the skimmer at full charge with two passengers over rough terrain; then the range of the plane with full tanks and passengers.
With some experimentation she got the two ranges plotted and brought them together as a huge triangle; the skimmer from Far End Village and the plane from base. There was only one option: she had to lure him far inland.
With a sudden shock she realised it would take her close to the place she had identified yesterday: the Supial's Sacred Place. Would she putting the Supials at an even greater risk by luring him there? But there was little choice. It was ordained by two inescapable mathematical facts. The only other viable intersection was on the coast to the north-east and she did not want to lure him into the middle of one of the Supials’ most densely populated areas. And he could refuel by boat if necessary.
No. It had to be inland.
She sat back, tense and anxious, and looked around for Mica. He wasn’t there – it was dinner time. In fact there was no-one around. Not a single Supial.
Quickly she activated the screen. “Skimmer, give me a proximity scan, radius one kilometre, topography and surface objects only.” Then she watched as the screen built a 3D image of the Supial's village. In a few seconds it was done. There it was: a small isolated building at the end of the main ridge. Was it their 'Knowledge House'?
There was only one way to find out.
She studied the map a little longer, then shut down the skimmer, dug the hand-light out of the utility bin, and slipped away into the gloom beneath the trees.
It took her about half an hour to work her way around the village. Shielded at last by a thick zone of trees she put on her torch and hesitantly made her final approach. Would there be guards? Alarms?
Of course not. These were Supials, not Humans.
She stooped under the low eaves of the building and went in, offering a murmured apology as if invisible spirits were listening. Then she gasped in surprise. After her constant exposure to the endless jungle, the natural fabrics, the colours of timber and thatch and earth and gardens, this place was like a fairyland! Hundreds of discs dangled in the breeze, clattering gently against each other, turning, reflecting rainbow colours from every quarter.
She reached up, caught one, read its title: GENOME DD17-642 Missulena Occatoria. She caught at another: PROTEUS MORGANI IN TUNA; Identification, Emergency Medical Response, Medicinal Uses. Another; ‘Reality TV, Coca Cola and the Americanisation of Anthropology’ ... Hundreds of them. Masses of data. Lots of genomes (whatever they were) and guides to every kind of industry and process, and discs full of scientific knowledge and history and art and literature. There were things she had never heard of: 'the Geomite Rebellion', 'the Mars Crisis', 'Reality TV', 'VR-Psychosis' ... but most of the discs were badly dented and scratched from their years, possibly hundreds of years, of clattering in the breeze. She felt her spirits slump. How many of them were ruined? What would it take to retrieve all this data? Would it ever happen?
She kept reading the titles until she came upon one that seemed to end the search: SHOOTING FOR THE STARS AND HITTING OURSELVES IN THE FOOT – [OPINION] – How we let a bunch of loonies make history. The uncertainty of FTL travel and reflections on the departure of the ‘Wheelerites’.
She stood, reading the title again and again as if it could tell her more each time. 2053 was the year after the Evil Orb was supposed to have been destroyed, and two years after she had lain down in the cold-sleep tank and let it put her to sleep.
She turned the disc over, checking its surface. Dirty, but not too scratched. With fumbling fingers she untied it and slipped it into a pocket of her coverall, replacing it with the one Mica had given her.
Then, shivering with a peculiar kind of shock, she went out and shut off her light, standing a long while until her eyes adjusted. Her shivering did not stop.
Poor Mica. How’s he going to feel tomorrow when he realises I’m gone?
Then, as if the Lord Himself were answering her question, a voice spoke from the dark nearby, “Kynn Wheeler, I missed you today.”
She turned, startled and guilty.
“I'm... I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be here.”
Mica emerged into the starlight, came straight to her, touched her on the shoulder with his big soft warm hands. She shivered even more violently, avoiding his gaze, then she let herself slide into his embrace, pressed her face into his furry shoulder and began to cry.
HE HELD HER, SOOTHED her, until her sobbing and shivered had finally ceased. Although he had a lot of questions he kept quiet – knowing that she needed comfort ahead of words.
Finally he asked, “What troubles you, Kynn Wheeler? Have I not been a good lovie for you? Do you want babies, but you cannot because you have no pouch?”
She laughed, as if suddenly relieved. Then she moved back a little so as to gaze at his directly, “Dear Mica, you are very sweet. And very brave. And yes, you have been a good ... uh, lovie.” Her eyes filled with tears again, “All you Supials - you are a good people, you don't deserve us humans in your midst. I'm sorry. My father has gone bad. He wasn't, once, long ago. But now...”
She couldn’t go on.
Mica looked perplexed. C
oncerned.
She brushed away her tears and changed her tone, “Mica, I'm going away. I have to. Tomorrow my father will come for me, so I’ve decided to try and lead him away.” She waved vaguely westward.
“Then I will come too!” he interrupted brightly
“No! You mustn’t! It won’t be safe! I have to do this, Mica, I have to!”
“And I have to go with you! My people will say so too! They love you, Kynn Wheeler! We all love you!” Mica was hopping on the spot, passionate, insistent, “I'm going to call out Wallaroo!”
He set off at once, and she had to run to keep up with him.
STANDING IN THE CENTRE of his village, Mica called loudly to Wallaroo and the other elders. Kynn, feeling increasingly anxious at this turn of events, stood silent.
“What gives?” replied Wallaroo grumpily from the verandah of his house.
“I’m calling a Village Meeting!”
“You are too young to do that!”
“Kynn Wheeler is going away, and the bad Humans will come tomorrow to burn our village!”
Wallaroo sighed and looked about at the other Supials lining their verandahs. “Light the big fire,” he said, “Village Meeting!”
A fire was soon alight in the centre of the village and the Supials gathered around, murmuring as if they were a single organism.
Mica began telling them that he was leaving, and why. A very grand and self-centred speech it was too, “...she will need someone to find petrol-tree wood, and blanket-bark, and to know good berries from fire-gut berries, and honey-ants from vomit-tails. She will need me...!” and so on. She was relieved when it came to an end without any mention of her presence in the Knowledge House.
“Dear friends,” she said, the moment he had finished, “Yes I am leaving, I must leave, because I am a danger to you. One of the Humans, the one called Pastor Wheeler, will soon come searching for me, and I’m afraid he will kill your people and burn your village if I stay here.”
There were a lot of troubled voices murmuring, but she stood resolute and continued fiercely, “And I will not allow it! I can lure him far away so he doesn’t come here. Maybe I can talk with him there, like we are talking here...” she faltered, not wanting them to know that she did not believe this, “and then we shall have peace again. Anyway I promise to try!”
“And I will go with her!” declared Mica once again, the moment she paused.
The elders looked at the wild gleam in his eye, his adoring gaze for her, and they shook their heads in bemusement. “Very well,” Wallaroo said, speaking pointedly to Kynn, “I’m sure no other Supial in this world will guide and protect you as Mica will. We can all see his love for you, and nothing is stronger than love!”
“Although some things are wiser,” she heard him murmur as he turned to address Mica. “Mica, you are still a young dude. Are you ready for this calling?”
“Yes I am!” he answered proudly, “Kynn Wheeler is a cool dudettie! I reckon she even has a soul! I’ll give her my all, if it comes to it.”
Someone muttered at the edge of the crowd, and there was a snuffle of mirth from that direction.
“Say it aloud,” snapped Wallaroo, peering into the shadows, “or say it not!”
“I said,” said a voice rich with the taint of disgust, “that maybe Mica just wants to get the female creature alone, then he’ll give her his all, alright! I mean, look at him! It's disgusting! Send her off if that's what she wants, but keep this parrot-brain at home where he belongs! Look at the trouble he’s already caused us!”
“He hasn't caused any trouble!” interrupted Kynn angrily, not caring that she was probably speaking out of turn, “No! My father has caused it all! Mica has a good heart! He saved my life when I was in the fire box, and with the crocadillies! I’ll be honoured to have him as my guide, and you should be honoured too!” Then she faltered, and went very quiet, and finished thus: “So I thank you now, people of Far End Village, for everything you have given me. I must depart. I must do this.”
“And”, she added guiltily to herself, “I thank you too for the one thing I stole. I hope it eventually helps us all.”
WESTWARD
AT FIRST LIGHT THE skimmer murmured to life. Shivering in her cut-down coverall, Kynn looked around at her farewell party – just Wallaroo and two other elders. The female one she knew as Spinifex, and the other was a grizzled male called Magpie. Mica was there too, of course. He carried a fat bag and wore a happy smile. But the elders looked grim.
“Farewell, Kynn Wheeler,” Wallaroo said softly, talking her hand in that gentle way of all Supials, “May you find what you seek.”
“Thank you,” she replied, “and please be warned; my people are not to be trusted any more, unless you should ever meet the one called Doctor Kei Nam. She is my ...” Kynn hunted for the right word, “...my elder, and she has a good heart. But until she comes, be careful! Pastor Wheeler is your worst enemy.”
Wallaroo looked perplexed. “But is he not your father?”
“Not any more.” she answered bitterly.
“You Humans are strange animals,” Old Wallaroo said with a roll of his eyes, “Very well then. Farewell.”
Spinifex came forward and took Kynn’s hand in the same way, but made no fancy speech. For a long time they just held each other’s eye, until Kynn’s eyes overflowed with tears. “Farewell,” was all Spinifex said.
Then the one called Magpie came forward and took Mica by the arm, “Farewell my son. Be good to this Kynn Wheeler, and do me proud. Do our whole village proud!”
“Yes, Father, I will.”
Kynn looked away before she burst into tears.
MICA CLUNG ON BEHIND his lovie, glad to be so close again, smelling her body-smell and trying not to let his mind drift into his dreams of the future. At least in certain details. She seemed in a dark mood, troubled by many things. He did not ask her what it was about, just held her with all his love.
At the edge of the Neo-Banyan forest she veered her canoe aside, heading for the escarpments. It was not a good way for a Supial to go but since they were not on foot he supposed that swamps and cliffs would be no trouble.
Indeed they weren't, at first, but several times after that she had to stop and ask her canoe for a new direction. Mica, as he peered over her shoulder, began to realise that it could somehow see ahead of them. He took to trying to understand the strange lines and colours on the screen.
At times the canoe lurched and strained, as if it didn't much like the going. It was tough terrain, steep and rocky, and without water or shade. Gradually this changed into a strange new type of forest, full of thick hanging vines and lots of cheater-plants and other kinds of trees that Mica had never seen before.
Kynn sweated in front of him, hot and nervous. He clung on behind, peering ahead to warn her if he saw dangling snakes amidst the vines, or to point out a clearer path if he saw it first.
They climbed higher and soon this forest gave way to yet another type of terrain, high and bony, covered in thick tough clumps of vicious cutty grass of a kind he had not encountered before. Kynn had to lift the canoe higher to avoid their knife-sharp tips.
And it was much colder too.
After an hour or so of this they stopped in a hollow to rest beside a little lake surrounded by a few good-sized trees. They ate, then huddled together for warmth.
“I'm expecting a call,” she told him, glancing now and again at a little technobyte thing she now wore on her wrist. He pricked up his ears, listening to the wind, trying to hear the sound of a voice. Instead the canoe began to beep like he’d heard before. Kynn jumped up and hurried to it. Mica followed, missing her warmth at once.
That same woman’s face was on the screen again, and Kynn was already talking urgently in Human speech. Mica didn’t try to understand. He climbed on behind her, wrapped her in his arms, and tried to keep them both warm.
“KYNN?” ASKED DOCTOR Nam as soon as the connection had stabilised, “What's happening? You're fif
ty-nine k's away from yesterday's mark.”
“I know. I'm trying to draw his fire, so to speak.” Then she added with a grim smile, “Or draw his ire, more like.”
“Don't be crazy!”
Kynn had expected this. “I have to, Doctor Nam! It's my duty! I started all this.”
“You didn't start anything, Kynn!” interrupted Doctor Nam angrily, “In fact you are about the only one who hasn't contributed to the mess! When I saw your email I though he would finally wake up, I really did!”
Kynn was amazed. “My email? You mean you got it!”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“He told me he’d destroyed it all. Every copy.”
“Who knows, but I can assure you I did get it. Kynn, you’re only fifteen. You’ve got a whole lifetime ahead of you. Please don’t risk it like this...”
“I’ll be alright,” Kynn interrupted fiercely, “but Mica’s village won’t be alright if I just stay there! I’ve got to try this!”
Dr Nam slammed her hand down, “Damn it! I feel so useless! I wish I could help!”
“You can!” Kynn answered, “Just buzz me as soon as he takes off.”
“But if the timing’s out it could alert him.”
“If he’s paying attention. Just send something called ‘Automatic Channel Test’ or something. I’ll still know it’s you.”
Dr Nam rubbed at her face tiredly. “Okay, Kynn, okay. But don’t push your luck. Release the flare within his range-limit or he might just ignore you and turn back.”
“He won’t,” said Kynn calmly, “I know him. He won’t.”
Dr Nam looked like she was going to cry, or scream, or hit something. But she pulled herself back together and said evenly, “Right, but please don’t try to confront him. Just get on your skimmer and get out of there! Promise me that, Kynn! Please!”
