The noise he was making didn’t seem to bother the roos but other officers, hiding in nearby bushes, started to look across to see what the commotion was. So, by the time the kangaroos finally decided to attack the policeman and overpower him, there were about six of his mates watching in utter astonishment.
Jacko Collins was one of the stunned onlookers. He saw four or five of the big bucks leave the mob and head for the bloke on the ground. When they started kicking and pummelling him as he struggled to get away, Jacko was the first to break cover to rush to his colleague’s aid.
He burst from his bush, yelling and shouting. Immediately, the roos stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Yet they didn’t run. For a moment he felt confusion, then fear as the roos seemed to confer with each other. He stopped and pulled out his sidearm. The group beating up the other officer resumed its assault while the rest of them, led by a scruffy little doe, came straight at Jacko. The only half-coherent thought in his mind was that maybe roos got rabies and went crazy.
He fired a shot into the air—sod the kidnap, he wasn’t going to be attacked by a mob of rabid bloody kangaroos—but they kept coming at him. Then he fired straight at the lead doe. It was just metres away. He couldn’t have missed. Yet nothing happened. He got off one more shot at point blank range before they were on him.
He thought he was a goner for sure. The roos knocked him down and started kicking the shit out of him. Then there was a barrage of gunfire and they suddenly left him alone. He kept his head down as the shooting continued, thundering all around him. Then there was a scream—a human scream—and he had to look up.
Policemen and women had come out of hiding from all over the area when they’d heard his shots and had rushed to his assistance. Armed with rifles and shotguns, they began blasting away at the roos that were attacking their fellow officers. The roos, at last, seemed to panic and fled, heading away from the farmhouse. But, after a moment, they re-grouped around the little doe and turned to face them. The police began to realise that something was not quite right when none of the roos fell dead under the hail of bullets they were pumping after them. In fact, it was apparent to some that their bullets were somehow being deflected by invisible shields that seemed to surround each animal’s body. However, it was totally obvious that something was wrong when the roos raised their cute little forepaws and started firing back at them.
Jacko saw one woman blasted to atoms as she dived for cover, then another officer thrown into the air as the ground in front of him erupted in a fountain of rocky soil.
Everyone around him was jumping in ditches and hiding behind trees, even as more officers started to arrive from other parts of the perimeter. Fortunately for everyone, the roos were such awful shots that only a couple of people were hit directly. Otherwise it would have been a massacre—especially since each new arrival at the scene had to stop and stare at the incredible sight of ten kangaroos shooting up a squad of Queensland’s finest before realising that they too should be behind the nearest tree rather than standing around like a shag on a rock while the kangaroos took pot-shots at them.
Belatedly, Jacko remembered his radio. “Assistance required!” he shouted into it, forgetting proper protocol completely. “Officer down! Officer down!” He gasped with pain, suspecting a broken rib or two.
“This is mobile command,” the radio said. “Please state your –” There was an interruption and some banging as if the mike at the other end was being moved about. Jacko thought he heard a voice in the background say, “Give me that!” Then the background voice came on again, loud and clear. “This is Sergeant Fury. Who is that and what’s going on out there? We can hear the shooting from here!”
“Sarge! It’s Jacko!” a wave of relief went through the young officer. They’d be all right now.
“Go on lad,” the sergeant said. “Steady now. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Sarge we’ve been attacked. We’re pinned down. We need reinforcements quick.”
“Jacko,” the young man could hear the suppressed anger in his sergeant’s voice. “Who’s attacking you lad? There’s no sign of activity at the farmhouse.”
“It’s not the farmhouse, Sarge. They came from behind us.”
“Damn it, Jacko. I want a proper report or I’m going to come out there and shoot you myself! How many? What are they’re positions? What are their armaments? You know the drill.”
Jacko swallowed. “That’s just it, Sarge. It doesn’t make sense. I think you should come out here. You’ve got to see it to believe it.”
“Jacko! Pull yourself together, Constable and make your report.”
“It’s kangaroos, Sarge. We’re under attack by about ten kangaroos. I thought they had rabies but we can’t seem to kill them. And, Sarge, they’ve got ray guns.”
-oOo-
The sound of shooting broke up the prayer meeting. Sam looked around, slightly dazed. She’d been pledging her life to the Great Spirit. Her heart had been full of joy in that wonderful moment of sacrifice and self-negation. The Priestess, Braxx, was there in front of her, beautiful in white satin and the other Pebbles of the New Dawn were arrayed behind her, chanting their strange incantations. The other humans, like Sam, were kneeling and smiling. One by one, John had brought them in. Each time he appeared, he would look Sam in the eye and remind her how much she loved the Great Spirit. He would do it to everyone in the room. The silly man. He didn’t need to remind them. Everyone loved the Great Spirit. They loved Her so much their hearts ached.
All night they had listened to the Priestess preaching to them about the wisdom and beneficence of their new deity. It had been wonderful to receive instruction from these wise and kindly aliens. John had reminded her how much she admired and respected Braxx but he didn’t need to do that either. It was clear to her that Braxx was the chosen vessel of the Great Spirit’s message to humanity. All she wanted was to kneel at her feet and learn. It had been the happiest night of her whole life.
But the shooting had intruded. It wasn’t far away, just across the field. A couple of shots at first and then more and more guns joining in until it sounded like a war was being fought out there. It reminded her. The police were here. The police were here to arrest the Vinggans. But why would they want to do such a thing? Except that the Vinggans had kidnapped the old folk and brought them there in a bus. Yes, the old folk. She had heard them in the room next-door. They seemed to be having gymnastics and arm-wresting contests all night long. That couldn’t be right could it? They had all seemed so frail when they had been brought off the bus after the Vinggans had shot all those policemen.
“My God! What am I doing here?” she shouted. A few minutes ago, this would have caused quite a stir but now there was a bit of a hubbub in the room as people asked each other what the shooting was about and started making their way to doors and windows to get a look. “You!” she cried, grabbing hold of John’s arm. “You did this with that evil eye thing of yours. What’s the idea of hypnotising everybody like that?”
“Look, this is probably not the time,” the guru guy said, indicating the noise from outside. “It could be the police are about to storm the farm.”
“What?” It dawned on Sam that she had not been seeing the bigger picture here. And who’s fault was that! “You hypnotised me, you maggot!”
“It was for your own good. Things were turning ugly. I didn’t want our visitors zapping everybody with their ray guns. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I probably saved your life.”
More of the big picture was coming back to Sam. “Where’s Wayne?” She saw the I-don’t-know expression starting to form on John’s face and immediately started shouting “Wayne! Wayne!”
“Silence!” demanded Braxx and the room fell silent. “You, human, what is going on?” He was looking straight at Sam and everyone turned to her as though she did indeed have the answer.
“I... I’m looking for my brother,” Sam stammered, confused by the sudden attention.
There were a few sniggers from the humans present.
“I... what? Oh that? Jeez, I don’t know. Sounds like the police are shooting at each other.”
“Do they do that often?”
More sniggers. Sam was getting cross. “Only when they’ve got no-one else to shoot at.”
Braxx was loosing interest. “Never mind,” he said, heading back to his spot at the front of the room. “We’ll get on with our ceremony. If there are any police left alive later, we can invite them in and convert them too.”
“Can I convert one?” came a muffled shout from Joss’ belly.
“Shush, Dear,” said Joss. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of humans for everybody.”
“Indeed!” said Braxx, happily. He had been very gratified at how well the past few hours had gone. The humans were so willing to accept his spiritual leadership that he had had to revise completely his initial low opinion of them. They were clearly a much more intelligent species than he had thought. “Where’s Drukk?” he called.
There was a bit of a commotion as people and Vinggans poked heir heads around doors and shouted and such but, eventually, a Vinggan in a tight, short, orange dress appeared with Wayne in tow and said, “Yes, Braxx?” Wayne saw his sister standing next to the Braxx woman and gave her a wave.
“Ah Drukk, I see their sun has risen. How are you coming on with organising the slave labour teams to build the new church?”
“Well, actually,” said Drukk, who had forgotten all about it, “I’ve sort of been chatting, mostly. I haven’t really got around to it just yet.”
Braxx, who was feeling magnanimous after a night of homage and ritual, all featuring himself in the starring role, merely smiled. “Tut, tut, Drukk. You must remember, here on this world you are all we have by way of a civil authority. I will always do what I can as their spiritual leader, of course, but if we are ever to get any useful work out of these poor creatures, we must rely on you to take them in hand. You will be like an emperor among them. They will defer to you in all matters secular. You will need to establish government and order among them and elevate them from the degraded savagery in which we find them.” He smiled a kindly smile. “It’s not too much to ask, is it Drukk? I and my Pebbles must attend to the all-important matter of filling their empty souls. We cannot also attend to the mundane. That is your role.”
Drukk sighed. He was just a simple spacer. He didn’t want to be emperor to a planet full of half-wit monsters. But he knew the folly of arguing with religious types. “All right,” he said. “I’ll get started.”
“Excellent.” Braxx waved his arm at the roomful of humans. “Take this lot. They’re converted enough for now. And send me in another batch.” He turned to a bikini-clad Pebble beside him. “This is fun!” he said.
-oOo-
Shorty and the other kangaroos were surrounded.
“Where did they all come from?” wailed Fats.
“How should I know?” Shorty snapped. “They weren’t here the last twenty times we called.”
“They were lying in wait for us,” said one of the does. “Someone set us up.”
“The ship,” said another. “That damned machine double-crossed us!”
“What are you talking about?” shouted Shorty, leaping up in anger and frustration. “You guys are so friggin’ stupid, it’s driving me nuts!” She paused to fire off a salvo of shots at a group of police marksmen making a run for the shelter of an old rusting tractor. Her shots went wild but caused damage and confusion all around the running men. “The ship’s got nothing to do with this. Why would a space-ship do anything like that? How would it? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I wish I could shoot straight with this thing,” said one of the bucks, trying to pick off an armoured truck that was heading their way. The basic problem was the fact that the Vinggan blasters were attached to the sides of the roos’ stubby little arms, arms that were not designed for, or capable of accurately pointing at things, arms that were positioned so low on the kangaroo’s body that it was impossible to sight along the barrel.
“If it wasn’t for these personal force shields they’d be serving us up with a pepper sauce at some trendy Gold Coast restaurant this afternoon.”
“I’ll be chopping you up and feeding you to the birds if your don’t all shut up,” Shorty bellowed. “We’ve got to get ourselves out of this mess before any more of the humans arrive.”
“Why, Boss. They can’t touch us with our shields up.”
“Oh yeah?” Shorty sneered. “What’s the energy absorption capacity of that shield you’re wearing? Will it withstand two simultaneous bullet impacts? Ten? Twenty? What about a small explosive charge? Or a big one?”
“Oh yeah, right.”
“Yeah, right! And what’s the battery life on these things, eh? How long before they shut down?”
“Battery life?”
“Yes, battery life. This isn’t good old Pappathenfranfinghellian technology you know. This is Vinggan crap.”
The roos stood in thoughtful silence as lethal projectiles zipped past them at almost supersonic speeds.
“We got to get out of here,” said Fats.
-oOo-
The Agent and Barraclough watched the battle from some way off, safely hidden inside the Agent’s invisibility bubble. Barraclough was torn between wanting to rush in and help his mates and wanting to just close his eyes and make it all go away. He tried doing just that for a moment. He could still hear the gunfire, of course, even with his eyes closed but he thought, just for an instant, that it might work and the roos would not be there when he looked again. And why roos? he asked himself. Why not wombats, or emus, crocodiles, or goannas? He opened his eyes. The little gang of armed kangaroos was still there, still shooting at the thirty or so brave policemen who surrounded them.
“Come,” said the Agent in its sonorous voice and carried on walking towards the farmhouse. Barraclough stumbled along beside it, the force bubble sliding along with them.
-oOo-
Chief Inspector Sheila Sullivan stared at the tall, angry man in front of her and wondered about resigning. She wasn’t a young woman any more. As her husband was fond of saying, she wasn’t this year’s model, she’d done a good few miles, and not all of them on tarmacked roads. She knew that after this fiasco she wouldn’t have much of a career left in the force. Maybe she should just walk away now before the shit really hit the fan?
“I’m telling you we need more men out there!” Senior Sergeant Fury was shouting at her.
“And I’m telling you, Sergeant, that nobody is being attacked by kangaroos with ray guns.”
“With all due respect, Ma’am,” said the sergeant, through gritted teeth. “Something is out there shooting at my lads and I don’t care if it’s kangaroos, or Loosi Beecham, or the bloody Tooth Fairy. Whatever it is, is standing off thirty armed police officers and it looks like it could easily handle thirty more. We need every man we’ve got out there right now. And we need to get the army in here double quick.”
“And what about the terrorists in the farmhouse? What about the people who shot three of our men yesterday and injured six others? Do you want me to leave them unguarded while we all go off chasing kangaroos?” She took him by the shoulders. “Rick. Rick. How many years have we known each other.” The sergeant just scowled. “Don’t go nuts on me now, Rick. I need level heads out here. I need people I can count on to keep it all together."
Sergeant Fury stepped back, out of her grip. “If we don’t do something soon to stop those kangaroos, there won’t be anybody left out here except you and me.”
That’s it, she thought. Enough. Sheila screamed. It felt good, so she did it again and then again. It was terrific. She just screamed and screamed. That old fool Fury shut up, she couldn’t hear the gunfire and, with her eyes closed, she couldn’t even tell she was out in the middle of nowhere trying to stop Loosi Beecham
from killing Councillor Molly Bleach’s sodding gardening club. She hardly felt the sergeant slap her across the face. It was all so odd, really. That was the thing. It was all so very, very odd. Don’t you think so, Mr. up-your-bloody-self Deputy Chief Executive (Operations)? She laughed. Laughed and laughed. It was just as good as screaming. More fun even. She laughed as tears streamed down her face, not minding at all when the two police constables took her by the arms and led her off to the medical tent.
-oOo-
Wayne and Sam sat together in the kitchen. About a dozen other humans sat or lounged about. The day was starting to get warm and Sam was wondering about what it would be like cooped up in here with so many people as the day wore on.
Drukk was there too. He had led them into the kitchen mostly to get away from Braxx. He didn’t really feel like making the humans build a church but he supposed he’d have to.
“Does anybody know how to build a church?” he asked.
The faces around him looked blank. A few people shrugged or shook their heads. Well, that was that, then. Drukk certainly didn’t know how to build a church. It struck him that Braxx probably didn’t know either and that was why he’d given Drukk the job.
“Are you all right, mate?” Wayne asked, seeing Drukk’s abject posture.
Sam bristled. “This is not your mate, Wayne. This is your captor. An alien slave-master who wants to work us to death in its forced labour camps.”
Wayne shook his head. “No, Sam. This is Drukk.”
“I wear the orange clothing,” Drukk explained.
“Drukk and I are getting on really well. Aren’t we, mate?”
“You are Wayne. You wear the clothes with distinctive glyphs.”
“Er, yeah, right. See? Drukk wouldn’t, like, hurt us. He’s, like, an ambassador from a great civilisation. Aren’t you, mate?”
“I am not an ambassador,” Drukk said flatly. He turned to Sam. “You are Sam, sister of Wayne. You wear the beige clothing with a splash of green.”
“Yes!” said Sam, excited at last. Maybe her idiot brother was right after all. Dear God, if they could only make a friend among these creatures, maybe there was a chance they could escape.
Cargo Cult Page 19
