by Justin D'Ath
Birdy drank the last of the soy milk. ‘Anyway, we probably have got rat flu now, thanks to you.’
‘You’re alive thanks to me,’ Colt said. ‘Well, thanks to James, actually, because he found out about that weird enzyme in my blood that stops it. So I don’t think I could catch rat flu anyway.’
‘That doesn’t mean I can’t,’ Birdy said, frowning into the empty milk carton.
‘But you’ve already had it.’
A little smile spread slowly across her face. ‘And you saved me.’
He smiled back. ‘Well, me and James, actually. I wouldn’t have known how if he hadn’t discovered enzyme-C.’
‘Here’s what I don’t get,’ said Birdy. ‘If hundreds of people are getting rat flu and James knows how to cure it – why isn’t he?’
‘I don’t know,’ Colt said. ‘Mum wants me to find him.’
‘Why?’
‘Maybe he needs more of my blood to make a vaccine.’
Birdy looked worried. ‘How much more?’
Colt shrugged. He was worried about that, too. ‘We won’t know till we find him.’
‘If we find him,’ she said.
He began scrolling through the VN, looking for something about James. Or even something about a possible cure for rat flu in humans. Surprisingly, he found no mention of either. There wasn’t even any mention of a shouting man who’d stopped the ambulance as it was leaving the wharf, nor how the police, rat cops and security guards had wrestled him to the ground. Surely that was news? The wharf had been swarming with journalists and photographers. They must have seen what happened.
Yet there was nothing about it in the VN.
Someone must have ordered them not to report it, Colt thought. Someone must have killed the story. Who would do that? he wondered. Who would have the power to silence the press? And why?
A headline on the final screen of the VN caught Colt’s eye.
Destroy LWC Animals, Says DoRFE Boss
As the deadly RF2 virus sweeps across the planet, a leading rat flu expert is calling for the immediate destruction of all the animals and birds in the internationally famous Lost World Circus.
Superintendent Elsa Katt, newly appointed Head of the Department of Rat Flu Eradication (DoRFE), addressed an emergency sitting of Parliament in Mimosa late last night.
‘These animals transmitted the disease to humans,’ Superintendent Katt said. ‘They must be destroyed.’
The Lost World Circus is currently being held by DoRFE under strict quarantine conditions in a secure GovFarm facility near Culdesac, in the north of the state.
Circus owner, Captain Philip Noah, who has been quarantined along with his animals, was unable to address last night’s emergency sitting of Parliament.
‘There is no evidence that RF2 can be traced to the circus,’ Noah wrote on his WebFace page yesterday. ‘All our animals are disease-free.’
‘We’ve got to get back there,’ Colt muttered.
‘Back where?’ asked Birdy.
‘Back to the circus.’ He showed her the article. ‘I was right – Officer Katt is going to kill all the animals.’
Birdy read the article. ‘How did she get to be the boss of DoRFE?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe the old one got sacked because DoRFE has been so useless for so long?’
‘I wish they’d chosen someone else.’
‘Me too,’ Colt said with a shiver of apprehension. As Superintendent of DoRFE, his old enemy would have almost unlimited power. Not only that, but she could probably gain access to all sorts of information that the public didn’t know about. Information about how the old rat flu really started, for example.
‘It wasn’t Hayley who lied to the reporters,’ Colt said. ‘It was Officer Katt!’
Suddenly everything that was in the VN – and everything that wasn’t there – began to make sense. It was all Officer Katt’s doing.
She had lied to the press about Colt and Birdy having RF2.
She had used her new-found power as Superintendent of DoRFE to suppress the news story about James stopping the ambulance on the wharf, and about what had happened to him after that.
And it seemed she hadn’t told anybody what she’d revealed to Colt yesterday – that she knew he was Superclown. (Because if she had, surely that would have been all over the news, too.)
Colt began explaining all this to Birdy.
‘So what’s the connection between all this stuff?’ she interrupted.
‘I’m the connection,’ he said. ‘Officer Katt wants to catch me. And the best way she can do that is to spread a rumour that I’ve got RF2, and by putting a price on my head.’
‘There’s a price on my head, too,’ Birdy pointed out.
‘She’s after both of us,’ he agreed. ‘But it’s me she wants most. That’s why she made Hayley put that drug in my orange juice.’
‘Why is she after you more than she’s after me?’
‘Because she knows I’m Superclown.’
Birdy was silent for a few moments. She was thinking. ‘But how is that connected to everything else that’s going on?’ she asked finally.
That was a bit harder to explain. Colt wasn’t really sure himself. ‘I think it’s all about rat flu,’ he said. ‘Officer Katt must know that you did get bitten by a ghost rat on Plague Island, and that somehow I saved you. Nobody’s ever survived the bite of a ghost rat before.’
‘Except you,’ Birdy said. ‘When you were a baby.’
He nodded. ‘Officer Katt probably knows about that now, too.’
‘How would she know?’
‘Well, I pretty much told everybody that first night Mum and I came to the circus,’ Colt said. ‘So Officer Katt would have heard about it. I reckon she thinks there’s a connection between what happened when I was a baby, and me being Superclown now.’
‘Is there?’ asked Birdy.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But there might be. And that’s where James comes into it. He and Mum go way back. Twelve years ago they were both scientists in the laboratory where rat flu started. Mum told me that she and James aren’t friends, but for some reason they’ve stayed in touch for twelve years. And now James is suddenly back on the scene. And Mum’s sending him samples of my blood and telling me to make contact with him. And when you and I arrive on the ship this morning, who’s waiting at the wharf for us? James. And he stops the ambulance, shouting stuff about how he can cure you from the bite of a ghost rat.’
Birdy made a Time Out sign with her hands. ‘Whoa there! Too much information! What’s all this got to do with what’s going on right now?’
‘Everything!’ Colt said. ‘If Officer Katt is the head of DoRFE, then she must have access to all sorts of secret information about rat flu and how it started. She must know what happened in that laboratory all those years ago, and who was involved. So when James turns up at the wharf this morning shouting stuff about curing someone with rat flu – bingo, she makes the connection.’
Birdy was looking more confused than ever. ‘Colt, can you just explain to me what Officer Katt actually wants?’
‘I think she wants to be famous. I think she wants to be the person who discovers a cure for rat flu.’
‘But James discovered it already.’
‘And now he’s disappeared. Officer Katt must be holding him prisoner. He’s probably locked up in a secret DoRFE laboratory. Now all she needs is me,’ Colt said. ‘Then she can force James to make a vaccine using that enzyme in my blood.’
Birdy shrugged. ‘Does it matter who gets famous? Isn’t the important thing to stop this new kind of rat flu before everyone dies?’
‘I don’t think they can stop it,’ Colt said. He showed her the VN. A flashing headline had just appeared in the Live Feed section – RF2: 811 New Cases. ‘It’s spreading too fast. I don’t think anyone can make a vaccine in time.’
Tears filled Birdy’s eyes. She was probably thinking what Colt was thinking: it was going to be the end of the
human race! ‘What will we do?’ she whispered.
‘I think we should go back to the circus,’ said Colt. ‘We should be with our parents.’
‘Can you save them like you saved me?’ Birdy asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘The new rat flu might be different. But I can stop Officer Katt from killing the animals. She’s wrong about them causing RF2. And I’ve got a feeling it won’t affect animals, just like the first rat flu didn’t affect us. So they might have a chance to survive.’
‘You mean, animals will survive and humans won’t?’ Birdy said.
Colt nodded. ‘They might be all that’s left. Animal planet.’
Birdy wiped her eyes. She looked scared and brave, both at the same time. ‘Okay. Let’s go back to the circus,’ she said. ‘How will we get there?’
‘We’ll have to catch the Blowpipe.’
‘But we don’t have any money, Colt. And we’re wearing pyjamas!’
That was a problem, all right. The whole city was on the lookout for two kids dressed in hospital gear. They needed clothes. Dry clothes, Colt thought, because both of them were shivering. He peered into the front of the car. James had left a jacket on the passenger seat. Colt reached over and grabbed it. He gave it to Birdy.
‘Put this on.’
‘It’s way too big!’ she cried.
‘It’s dry,’ he told her. ‘It’ll keep you warm while I go and get us some proper clothes.’
He’d noticed a St Vinnie’s second-hand store across the road. There was a bin outside with a sign that said: Free clothes for homeless people. How lucky was that? Colt thought. He and Birdy were homeless and they needed clothes.
‘Stay here and keep your head down,’ he said.
Birdy was trying to keep her head down, but her arms were swinging about as she struggled into the huge jacket. Her muffled voice came from somewhere inside it. ‘There’s something in the pocket.’
Colt paused, one hand on the door. ‘What is it?’
Birdy’s head appeared, then one of her hands. She showed him a brown fake-leather wallet. ‘Jackpot!’
Colt took the wallet. It was fat and quite heavy. ‘Do you think we should open it?’
‘Of course,’ said Birdy. ‘If James is a nice guy like you say he is, and if he was trying to help us, he’d want us to open it.
‘But isn’t a wallet sort of private?’
‘We need money to catch the Blowpipe, don’t we?’
‘But it’s like stealing.’
‘You already broke into his car, Colt Lawless. Do you want to save the circus or not?’
Colt wanted to save the world, not just the circus. He reluctantly opened the wallet. And immediately felt bad. There was a photo window with an old 2D snapshot stuffed into it. ‘Look, this must be his kid.’
Birdy peered at the photo. ‘He’s holding a rat!’
Colt had a second look. Birdy was right. The little boy, who looked barely old enough to be out of nappies, cradled a big, white rat in his pudgy little arms. ‘That is totally freaky! Who’d let their kid hold a ghost rat?’
‘He looks a bit like you,’ Birdy said.
‘Don’t be silly. Why would James have a picture of me in his wallet? Anyway, look at the colour of his hair.’
The toddler’s hair was black. But something about the set of his eyes and mouth did remind Colt of himself. A strange, dreamy feeling washed over him – much like he’d felt when Hayley and Macca first told them about RF2. Was it possible? With trembling fingers, he carefully slid the photo out from behind the milky plastic window and held it up for a closer look.
‘There’s writing on the back,’ Birdy said.
He turned the photo over. Colt, 16 months, it said in his mother’s handwriting.
‘James is my dad!’ Colt whispered.
The photo changed everything. Colt couldn’t leave his father in Officer Katt’s clutches. He had to find him. He had to rescue him. Then James could drive him and Birdy back to the circus.
If Colt’s mother was right about James – if he was one of the most brilliant scientists in the world – he and Colt might be able to save more than just the Lost World animals.
‘How will we find him?’ Birdy asked.
‘People power,’ Colt said. ‘I need a phone.’
It was people power that had saved Lucy the first time Officer Katt tried to kill her. Thanks to a famous HV journalist named Verity Dingle, who hosted a live public affairs show on Channel 12, thousands of ordinary people had swarmed down onto a beach in defence of the world’s last elephant.
And the Channel 12 Head Office was right here in Mimosa!
Colt found $200 in James’s wallet. It wasn’t virtual money, either; it was genuine, Real Currency notes. Hardly anyone had real money anymore – there was a worldwide shortage. $200 cash was worth almost $600 in virtual currency. Colt asked Birdy for James’s jacket and put it on. Then he tore a sleeve off his pyjama top and wrapped it around his head like a bandana. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but at least he no longer looked like the pyjama-clad, white-haired kid everyone was looking for. All he had to do now was find the right person.
‘What about her?’ Birdy asked, pointing across the street.
A woman with two small boys had stopped next to the free clothes bin outside St Vinnie’s. They didn’t look well-off. There were holes in the elbows of the older boy’s top, and his younger brother was barefoot. All three had strips of cloth tied around their mouths instead of surgical masks. Colt and Birdy watched as the mother rummaged through the bin. She found a pair of child’s jeans that looked about the right size for the smaller boy, and knelt on the footpath to measure them up against him. Colt zoomed his vision for a close-up of her watch. Just as he’d hoped, it was a wrist phone.
‘Cross your fingers,’ he whispered to Birdy.
Slipping out of the station wagon, Colt walked quickly across the street towards the woman. ‘Excuse me!’ he called.
She turned around. Now was the moment of truth. Would she recognise him from the holovid on the front of today’s VN? Would she raise her phone and tap in DoRFE’s emergency number?
But there was no light of recognition in the woman’s eyes. She just frowned. ‘What do you want?’
‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ Colt said. ‘But could I possibly use your phone?’
‘Where’s yours?’ she asked suspiciously.
It was a reasonable question. Everyone had phones nowadays – you could even buy disposable single-call cardphones for $1 in almost any shop. But not if you were a public enemy whose face was plastered over every VN and holovision screen in the city.
‘I lost it,’ Colt said. He pulled out one of James’s Real Currency notes. ‘I’m willing to pay.’
The woman looked hungrily at the $100 note. Judging by the way she and her kids were dressed, it was probably more money than she’d seen in a long, long time.
‘I don’t have any change,’ she said bitterly.
‘I don’t want change.’ Colt waggled the note. ‘One phone call and this is yours.’
‘Give it to me.’
He handed over the money. The woman checked that it was real, then thrust it into her pocket. ‘How do I know you won’t run off with my phone as soon as I give it to you?’
Colt pulled out another $100 in Real Currency. ‘If I run off, you can keep this one, as well.’
The woman grinned. She exchanged the second note for her wrist-phone. It was a piece of junk – a little plastic Home Caller, supplied free by the government to every child on their first day at school. It didn’t even have Voice Recognition.
‘One call,’ she said. ‘And don’t talk too long – there isn’t much credit.’
At least the battery wasn’t flat. Colt tapped in Channel 12 and the station’s general enquiries number flashed up. Turning his back on the woman and her two sons, he was surprised when a real voice, not a recording, answered.
‘Channel Twelve. Good morning. Ho
w can I help you?’
‘Can you put me through to Verity Dingle, please?’ Colt asked. ‘It’s totally urgent! I’ve got a world-wide exclusive story for her.’
Forty-five minutes later, a sleek blue BMW Solar pulled in next to James’s station wagon. Colt and Birdy crouched down between the seats. They heard a car door open. Footsteps approached, click, click, click. It sounded like a woman in high-heeled shoes. Then a row of bright pink fingernails tapped lightly on the windscreen.
‘Colt Lawless?’
They cautiously raised their heads. It was Verity Dingle herself, wearing a surgical mask and a frown. Colt cranked open the antiquated, wind-down car window.
‘Hi, Ms Dingle. Thanks for coming.’
The famous HV journalist just nodded. She returned to the BMW and pulled open one of the rear doors. ‘Get in,’ she said. ‘And keep your heads down.’
Colt and Birdy did as they were told, ducking quickly from one car to the other like spies in a movie. A couple of surgical masks, still in their cellophane wrappers, lay on the back seat. Verity told them to put them on. She was very businesslike, not friendly at all. Colt wondered if he’d made a mistake calling her. Wondered if he’d told her too much.
But as soon as everyone was masked and buckled in and the doors were closed, the journalist seemed to relax a little. ‘Sorry for taking so long, kids. I brought my own car rather than using one of the station’s helicopters. We don’t want to attract attention.’
‘Isn’t that why I’m going on holovision?’ Colt asked. ‘Isn’t the whole point of it to attract attention?’
‘Indeed,’ said Verity Dingle, back to being businesslike. ‘But we need to do this properly.’
She reversed out into the street and performed a U-turn. Colt had never been in a solar-powered car before – it was totally silent.
‘What are we going to do?’ he asked.
‘I’ve set up a press conference back at the station,’ Verity said. ‘You’ll be able to tell the whole world what you told me over the phone.’
‘I thought we were going to rescue my father first.’ (It still felt strange saying my father.)
