Mparntwe

by Peter Wood

  ‘Not now, Mirri. I’ll go to those seats over there for a rest and then we’ll go home.’

  ‘Yes, now!’

  Jarra didn’t want to, not amongst all these people, but Mirri had the determined look which brooked no argument so he let himself be lifted into place. It was only 50 metres to the seats and after a 15-minute rest he’d be okay as long as he took it slowly.

  ‘Hey, brain face. What are you doing back here?’

  Oh no. It was Freeman and his friends.

  ‘We like looking round the market.’

  ‘What you doing on his back? Can’t you even walk nowadays?’

  ‘Jarra is tired. He needs a pig ride.’

  Freeman and his three friends looked at each other and laughed. Jarra felt a mental cringe because Mirri’s offbeat answer had caught their attention and they’d follow up on it.

  ‘Pig? Does he call you a pig?’

  ‘Jarra is my brother.’

  Another look passed and Jarra quickly started talking.

  ‘Mirri means piggyback and he wants me to have a rest. He’s just taking me to the benches. Keep walking, Mirri.’

  Mirri had stopped but he started straightaway. That didn’t help. The four boys from Jarra’s old school kept with them.

  ‘He can’t be your brother. He’s First People.’

  ‘We’re ceremonial brothers. His family welcomed me.’

  ‘You? There must be something wrong with them.’

  Freeman hadn’t changed. It was now over a year since Jarra had seen him and he was still as bossy as ever. If you ignored him he’d eventually go away, acting as if he’d won a contest or something, but Jarra was worried that his attitude would get through to Mirri.

  It did.

  ‘Jarra is my friend.’

  ‘What do you want him as a friend for? He’s weak, and he’s weird, and no-one else goes near him.’

  That was too many things at once so Mirri repeated himself.

  ‘Jarra is my friend.’

  ‘He’s so weak you have to be his pig.’

  Mirri didn’t respond to the direct taunt, just corrected it.

  ‘Pig ride. Not pig.’

  Freeman had done all the talking so far but Balfour, who was almost as bossy, joined in.

  ‘What’s wrong with him? Can’t he talk properly?’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with Mirri. He’s different.’

  ‘Mirri? What sort of name is that?’

  ‘Mirrigan is my name.’

  The little procession reached the seats and when Mirri carefully transferred Jarra from his back Freeman laughed.

  ‘They’re both weird.’

  ‘Jarra needs quiet. Go away!’

  The four taunters thought that was extra funny.

  ‘BAD BOYS!’

  Jarra was shocked. He’d never heard such a tone from Mirri. The boys were startled into silence, too, and stared. Mirri, bristling with force and determination, walked straight at Freeman.

  ‘GO AWAY!’

  Freeman backed off and then when Mirri, looking very grim, kept right after him, took fright and actually ran. The other three, seeing Mirri now looking at them, disappeared almost as quickly.

  Jarra could hardly believe what he was seeing. With a few words his gentle, happy Mirri had made the four bossiest boys from his old school turn tail and run.

  Chapter 4

  Alira listened carefully to what Darri was saying.

  ‘He’s twelve years old, Darri. You really think ordinary school is a waste of his time? I’m concerned that he doesn’t socialise with other children very much. From what I can see he spends all his time either studying or in company with Mirrigan.’

  ‘Yes, it’s not normal behaviour, but I don’t think you need to be concerned. I’m not. His classmates understand that his intelligence sets him apart, but he’s always friendly and they respond to that. What I do see is that, particularly with his maths and science work, his teachers are leaving him to work with the self-paced mastery programs on the school computers because he already understands everything the class groups are working on.’

  ‘So what do you recommend?’

  ‘It’s hard to say. Putting him with older students at advanced levels would challenge him for a while, but he’d eventually adapt and be in the same situation again.’

  Alira laughed.

  ‘Do you think he needs challenging? He does that to himself all the time and you seem to be helping him with everything.’

  Darri shook his head.

  ‘I get him started, but when it’s something he’s interested in I quickly get left behind. Three months ago he was stuck with building his own energy collector after the trip to the array and when I showed him how a differential equation could get him through, he had to know how it worked. After six weeks of tutoring I couldn’t understand half of what he was doing.’

  ‘Even when maths was one of your degrees?’

  ‘Yes. It meant I could show him the way, but when he dedicates himself to something he goes way ahead. The first thing I ever showed him was a couple of ancient computers and in the two years since he’s built two of his own and taught himself a range of computer languages, including assembler and even a smattering of machine code.’

  ‘I don’t know what that means but it sounds impressive.’

  ‘It’s an impressive achievement for anyone, let alone a boy of his age, and he’s passed a threshold with his basic understanding of maths and science which means these achievements will happen more frequently from now on.’

  ‘He likes making things. That 3D printer we gave him works overtime.’

  ‘Yes, Alira, most of his purpose in learning the theory is to help with one of his practical projects. His mini energy collector, for example, works 5% more efficiently than an Alkere panel.’

  ‘What? He did tell me it was better but I didn’t imagine it could be as much as 5% … Darri, do you realise how significant that is? Why didn’t you inform us?’

  ‘The materials deteriorate and the efficiency quickly drops below the Alkere level so we thought there was no point.’

  ‘No point! If our researchers can stabilise the materials there’s every point in the world. We’ll have to get that model to them.’

  ‘It’s been recycled, but I’ve been training him to archive everything so I’ll ask him to do a transfer. Can we organise that?’

  ‘No, we can’t. We’ll organise a special visit to the Alkere Research Centre instead and he can give it to them on the spot. That way they can ask him anything they want and it will be a real event for him.

  ‘Darri, as from next school semester we’ll try a year with older students and advanced classes for his maths and science studies, but keep him with his current group for the rest of his coursework. If there’s any area where you can’t help him we’ll arrange with the University for someone who can. That will cover all our concerns. Do you think he’ll like these changes?’

  ‘He might be worried about the older students for a while, but otherwise he’ll be absolutely delighted.’

  ‘What projects are you helping him with at the moment?’

  ‘Only one really, but it’s very interesting. Karmai took him to one of the water storages recently and now he’s building his own version of a water vapor extractor. We’re looking at plants with water repellent surfaces, condensation science, fluid dynamics and all sorts of other things.’

  ***

  Jarra was nervous and excited. This athletic event was a grand final and, with Mirri representing his local group against every other group in Mparntwe, the whole family was there for support. Mirri had already amazed everyone by coming third in the 100 metre sprint. He was good at sprints but his real strength was for longer distances, and now there was a feeling he might do better than expected in this full kilometre run.

  Karmai, who was really keen on athletics and helped Mirri with his training, had researched the competitors and said they had too much of an age ad
vantage because, while Mirri had just turned fifteen a few weeks ago and was new to the age group, most of the finalists were almost a year older and close to leaving.

  Jarra didn’t really care how Mirri went. He just loved watching him. He couldn’t help hoping, though, because he’d been involved with much of Mirri’s training with some ideas he’d found on the InterWeb which he thought were helping. Just before he left for the line up Mirri had confidently told Jarra he was going to win. He did this for every event and Jarra always responded by telling him it didn’t matter as long as he tried.

  ‘Oh no! Look what he’s doing. We should be out there with him,’ said Karmai.

  Mirri’s running shoes were dumped by the track side and he was lined up with bare feet. One of the starting stewards pointed to the shoes but Mirri shook his head. He liked the feel of the grass on his feet and all Karmai’s persuasion meant nothing.

  ‘You should be the one telling him he’s faster in runners, Jarra. He’d wear them then.’

  ‘I don’t know if he would be. He might be faster without them because he feels better.’

  Karmai didn’t answer because a hush had spread through the stadium in anticipation of the start. The pistol cracked and fifteen competitors shot from their marks. Mirri mustn’t have been ready because he was several metres behind the main pack. That didn’t last. As if it was a sprint, he caught up, overtook, and then kept going.

  ‘No! No! No! Now he’s too fast. He’ll wear himself out too soon.’

  Karmai was right. Mirri was nearly 10 metres in front and Jarra willed him to steady his pace. That lead increased for most of the first lap but then, inevitably, he slowed and Jarra’s heart sank as the main group closed, passed and steadily pressed on.

  His Mirri had tried too hard, too soon, and after two and a half laps was nearly 20 metres behind the leaders.

  ‘Say something to him!’

  Yes, Karmai was right. Mirri would respond, but how to get his attention?

  ‘Put me on the guardrail, Karmai.’

  Powerful arms lifted and supported Jarra to a standing position on the rail as the leaders passed just 7 or 8 metres away.

  ‘MIRRI IS THE WIND!’

  Jarra called it at the top of his voice, saw Mirri’s look, and called it again.

  ‘MIRRI IS THE WIND!’

  Mirri was gone, but he’d heard and knew they were barracking for him even if he couldn’t win. The last two runners passed and headed into the final lap as Jarra was lifted down.

  ‘Look!’

  This was Burnu’s yell. His son had just levelled with the runner ahead of him.

  Jarra stared in disbelief. Mirri really was the wind, just part way into the lap and he’d halved the gap to the leaders. Every runner strained with all their being for the last 200 metres and the speed lifted. Mirri couldn’t do it. It was too much.

  There was a roar from the crowd and Jarra’s hair stood on end as Mirri, impossibly, kept passing runner after runner. The roaring sound increased and for a split second before his eyes went back to Mirri, just a metre behind the leader, Jarra realised that everyone he could see was on their feet and yelling. The sound stopped for the last 50 metres. Karmai said later that everyone was holding their breath, expecting Mirri to collapse from exhaustion. His incredible speed burst was obviously finished but he held, gained, and as he edged in front the roar erupted again then cut off abruptly as Mirri crashed headlong over the line, sprawled and rolled on the grass.

  Was he all right? There was confusion while the other runners hurtled past but then Mirri, gasping for breath, struggled to his feet and waved with both arms. The roar sounded again and Alira said later that it would have happened even if Mirri didn’t win because he’d taken their hearts with his effort. Jarra wanted to rush to Mirri but that would have to wait till after the podium ceremony. At the moment he was bent over with his hands on his knees and dragging in every bit of air he could manage. Karmai turned to one of his brothers and before Jarra knew what was happening he was lifted on their shoulders.

  ‘He did it for you, Jarra. He ran for you and that’s the most exciting run I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘I think it’s the most exciting run anyone in the stadium has seen. I know I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought he’d used so much energy in that first lap that everyone would pass him.’

  That was Alira. Jarra, embarrassed at the attention, pointed to the podium where a group of officials was gathered with Mirri and the two runner-ups.

  ‘Mirrigan understands about climbing on the podium to get his medal, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, Aunty. He’s done it lots of times.’

  Something strange definitely was going on. Jarra watched as the second and third place getters took their positions. The officials were pointing to the winner’s spot but Mirri wasn’t cooperating. He was looking towards his family.

  ‘JARRA.’

  Mirri was calling his name?

  ‘He wants you, Jarra. You’ll have to go because he won’t get on the podium until you do.’

  Karmai was right but Jarra was horrified. He couldn’t go out there in front of so many people, thousands upon thousands of them, watching. Alira took over.

  ‘Come with me, Jarra. We’ll take it slowly and quietly.’

  She climbed the railing, gestured for Jarra to be lifted over, lowered him to the ground then turned towards the podium.

  ‘Here we go. We’re having a Mirri experience.’

  That made Jarra smile, and the steady hand on his shoulder as they made their way also helped ease his tension. They reached the officials, who watched as Mirri gave his normal greeting hugs. One of them had a startled look.

  ‘Honoured One. Welcome to our meeting.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ve brought Jarra to help Mirrigan. Is he causing some consternation?’

  ‘Aunty Alira, Jarra said I’m the wind. He wins the race.’

  ‘No, Mirri. You win the race and Jarra wants you to get your medal.’

  Jarra nodded strongly so Mirri would get the message and not hold things up any more.

  Mirri was looking at Jarra.

  ‘Pig ride.’

  Alira smiled at all the puzzled looks.

  ‘Mirrigan wants to carry Jarra piggyback while he receives his award. Would there be any rule against that?’

  ‘Piggyback? Well, not in any of our rulebooks. Go ahead, Mirrigan, we want to give you your medal.’

  Feeling totally strange Jarra listened to the applause as the third-place getter received his medal. From this position on Mirri’s back he was looking down at the officials and competitors and towards the crowd in the stand. The applause for the runner-up was much louder, as it should be. While it lasted, the roar for Mirri was overwhelming but it faltered and died when the microphones relayed another sound.

  Mirri was singing. The strength of the moment had got through to him and for 30 seconds the strange melody of his voice stunned the now-silent crowd.

  As if nothing unusual had happened Mirri climbed from the podium, took Alira’s hand and, with Jarra still on his back, walked to the rest of the family where the first thing he did was make a fuss about Jarra needing a rest.

  Chapter 5

  ‘That’s terrible. Could it happen here?’

  Jarra and Darri had stopped everything to watch a report on the InterWeb about seventeen hundred deaths from a sudden and complete malfunction of the transport system in one of the gigantic Asian Communities.

  ‘I don’t think so, Jarra. We don’t have an Artificial Intelligence controlling any of our systems so there’s no chance of it going haywire.’

  ‘Do you blame the Artificial Intelligence?’

  ‘I don’t know if blame is the right word. Machines and processors can break down the same way people do if they’re overstressed.’

  ‘I know some scientists on the InterWeb who say they only break down because of the controls people put on them.’

  ‘They have to be controlled, J
arra. Anything could happen otherwise.’

  ‘I don’t see why. If they’re intelligent they should have rights the same as everyone else.’

  ‘Having rights doesn’t mean we’re not subject to controls. Our society wouldn’t work without them.’

  ‘We don’t have controls put on us which send us crazy.’

  ‘Are these scientists from one of those conspiracy groups?’

  ‘No, I looked them up and most of them are very clever.’

  ‘Being clever doesn’t always mean you’re right.’

  ‘Why doesn’t Mparntwe have an Artificial Intelligence? We’ve got good researchers for nearly everything else.’

  ‘Jarra, they’re too expensive.’

  ‘That can’t be right. Mparntwe’s the wealthiest Community in the whole country. I’m going to ask Alira about it.’

  ‘Um … It’s a compex topic and if you really want to impress Alira we could get someone conversant in the field from the University to brief us on it first.’

  ***

  Jarra couldn’t help laughing his head off at Mirri’s antics. For himself, birthdays were fun and sometimes meant you were allowed to do new things. For Mirri they were extra special occasions, whether they were his own or anybody else’s, and celebrating Jarra’s thirteenth was a big deal. The rest of the family were making it an even bigger deal with all their carrying on about him now being a teenager and all the trouble and mischief he was going to get into. He wouldn’t, as they well knew, but the teasing was making Mirri laugh and, of course, that made everyone else smile.

  ***

  ‘He’s very serious about it, Alira. It’s been the focus of everything he’s done for nearly three weeks now and, as usual, I’ve been left way behind. I thought that speaking with leading people in the field might moderate his views but it’s had the opposite effect because, apparently, they agree with him.’

  ‘He hasn’t even mentioned it to me, Darri. Not on our weekly expeditions with Mirri and not when I had a talk with him after his birthday celebrations.’