by Peter Wood
Mirri laughed and pulled Jarra from the rock he’d been sitting on while Mirri was off on a small exploratory sortie.
‘In the dirt, JJ. In a big termite house.’
In a termite mound? That couldn’t be right and, intrigued by Mirri’s insistence, Jarra followed him to the earthen structure.
‘Did you dig it open with a stick?’
‘No, JJ. I don’t hurt animal homes. I found it like that. The hole makes me look.’
Jarra moved close, and, sure enough, when Mirri brushed aside some loose mound material, a cluster of eggs was revealed.
‘This is very strange. Birds can’t dig like this and they wouldn’t lay eggs here anyway. I think it might be a lizard or a snake.’
‘Snakes can’t dig, JJ.’
Well, of course they couldn’t. A quick search on the InfoPad provided the answer and lots of information.
‘This is amazing. You found something very special. These are Dragon eggs.’
‘Dragons don’t lay eggs. They eat eggs.’
‘They do lay eggs, but they don’t eat their own. They’re very clever and they put them in here so the termites can keep them at the right temperature.’
Jarra carefully explained how the temperature control in the termite mound would stop the eggs getting damaged by extremes of daytime heat or night-time cold. Mirri listened hard because this was explorer information he liked to know.
‘I will find the Dragons.’
‘Try looking near the Wallaby Rocks. I think they like it there. I’m going to the lookout place to watch the budgerigars and have a relax.’
‘I will wake you up, JJ, and we will go to look for the little fish with your PC.’
Jarra nodded. He probably would fall asleep and the personal carrier definitely would be needed. It wasn’t his original personal carrier. Yirgella had repaired that, but when he went to use it he’d felt so sad that it was now in storage and he had a newly designed one.
‘You won’t let me fall in, will you?’
Mirri smiled because he knew Jarra wouldn’t get sick even if he did fall in. He was a big person now.
‘We will count the fishes.’
All that time ago and he remembered? Well, of course he did. A lot of things might pass him by but not their shared experiences, especially such an important one. Mirri rushed off and Jarra made his way to the lookout place. He did need a proper relax and this happy day with just the two of them was good for his soul.
The last five months had been the busiest of his life but thankfully the big projects he’d wanted to initiate were now underway and run by the managers and leaders Darri and Yirgella had gathered. With the addition to the Mirrigan Project in North America of a second AI and two extra NanoFactories, the big production plant there had already started construction of a large spaceship commissioned by the American government.
The second ship production plant at the Alkere space facility was close to completion and Yirgella was assisting the Freedom Community with yet another.
Partnerships with Communities and new AIs to build continent-spanning Vac Train systems in Africa, India, Europe and South America were all in progress, and because of the reduced cost of energy from the new Power Supplies, Communities around the world were embarking on huge expansion programs which meant, as Yirgella had predicted, an insatiable demand for Alkere’s special construction materials.
Dwarfing all these enterprises, however, was the demand for Power Supplies. With almost every Community, nation and major production utility clamouring for the benefits of reduced cost and energy independence, the increasing ability to supply units was still completely overwhelmed by the backlog of orders. According to Yirgella and Burnu, the income from twelve Power Supply factories now operating in partnership with AIs and their associated Communities already exceeded the earnings of the three mega-Corporations which had filled the production void left by the four which had been disgraced and subsumed.
Jarra’s reverie was interrupted as a swirling green cloud raced for the dubious shelter of the nearby eucalypts while a whistling kite coursed low in pursuit. He watched the steady return of the budgerigars and wondered that they could be in such panic and fear for their lives then moments later resume activities as if nothing had happened.
So much change in his own world while all around there were things which didn’t change, he reflected. Idly he looked up budgerigar information. Hmm … They had a lifespan of between five and ten years, so none of these were alive when he first came here with Mirri. That was certainly change for the budgerigars.
Where was Mirri? Probably finding some wondrous creature and telling Yirgella about it through his pendant ComPatch. He’d be staying quiet on purpose, too, waiting till his built-in understanding said his JJ was rested enough, and maybe peeking from some vantage point every now and again to check he was okay. Of all the people in the world, however did he meet someone as wonderful as Mirri? Jarra’s eyes closed.
***
From behind a boulder only 20 metres away, Mirri’s sharp eyes picked out the combination of closed eyes and smile.
JJ was happy so he settled to wait patiently, a soft song humming in his throat.
***
‘This way please.’
The smiling usher led his group of guests towards their reserved seats at the front of the concert hall with much more sincerity and interest than was his usual wont. Important people were routine in this place but his smoothly practised greeting had almost faltered when he recognised the unforgettable features of the boy and the young First Australian man who’d wrenched his emotions on the InterWeb last year. Smiling, more than politely, was almost unprofessional for his position as First Usher, but not this time. The impulsive call, ‘JJ, the King of the Eagles’, and impetuous rush to the themed mural on the wall of the inner foyer had at first startled the surrounding crowd then set them all smiling.
***
Jarra came to a standstill. He had to, to let his senses take in the grandeur and atmosphere of this great auditorium. He’d checked it out on his InfoSystem when Jarara had informed them they had to come as his guests of honour, but he’d had no inkling the real thing would feel like this. It was already exciting. The usher must be used to this reaction because he was smiling and waiting while all Mirri’s family looked around.
Jarra took in the audience—over two thousand of them, evidently, as a major work by this sometimes controversial musician was not to be missed, especially when presented at the iconic Sydney Opera House—then focused on the stage. Most of it was taken up with a classical orchestra, but spotlighted on one side was a group of First Australians with sound sticks and didgeridoos. A soft thrum and a rhythmic tap, tap, tap was keeping a steady background while the audience made its way in.
‘JJ, this is a good place.’
Jarra lowered his head from looking at the high ceilings and agreed.
Tap, tap, tap. The rhythm continued. How far was this usher taking them? Akama asked the usher something then touched Mirri’s arm and darted ahead. Mirri liked this little game and chased after him. To the very front row? Akama pointed to one of the seats then sat down, bounced, and watched Mirri do the same. The usher caught up, still smiling, and indicated the phalanx of specially reserved seats. Jarra sat next to Mirri and let his eyes roam across all the musicians sitting so close with their instruments.
Tap, tap, tap.
The rhythm strengthened, the lights dimmed a little, and the soft thrum of the didgeridoos deepened. The players were dressed in traditional costumes similar to the ones Mirri wore with his dance group and were in striking contrast to the formal dress of the orchestra musicians. Well, this was called the Dreamtime Concerto. The idea of a concerto had taken a great deal of explaining to Mirri who’d kept asking if there’d be any of Jarara’s good jumping music, but he’d finally taken in that this would be a very serious occasion where you sat quietly and listened hard.
The tap and rhythm ceased, the
stage went completely dark and, from the side, a spotlight followed the entrance of a figure clad in a magnificent Elder’s cloak.
‘Waterfall man!’
It was, too, and Jarra, knowing he might impulsively rush for a greeting, grabbed Mirri’s arm to restrain him. Not so. After an all-encompassing bow Jarara held his arms out, not to the general audience but to Mirri, who was now conflicted by Jarra’s gentle restraint.
‘Jarara wants a hug, JJ.’
And there could be no doubt. Jarara’s smile was directed straight at Mirri and both arms were outstretched and waiting. Jarra rapidly lifted his hand from Mirri’s arm and, smiling because the formality of the occasion was about to change, nodded that it was okay to go. The steps a few metres to the left meant nothing to Mirri and with one big bound he was on the stage and hugging Jarara with his usual enthusiasm.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, excuse us a moment while my friend helps me get set up.’
Jarara pointed to the waiting carry packs and Mirri eagerly moved to open the first one. Jarra grew a small lump in his throat and felt like giving a hug of his own. Jarara was keeping two thousand people on hold while he made Mirri happy. Helping assemble the soundboard had started the very first time Mirri met Jarara and had somehow become a routine of their subsequent meetings. Mirri loved helping, and Jarra knew it made him feel like he was part of whatever was going on.
Tap, tap, tap. The rhythm sticks and barely audible resonance of the didgeridoos sounded again and continued till the soundboard was ready. Jarara thanked Mirri then moved across with him to the top of the steps.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, most of you will recognise Mirrigan for his part in thwarting the abduction attempt at Gariwerd last year with his unforgettable Pig Ride.’
A murmur of sound and applause started to build but was cut off by Jarara’s gesture.
‘Tonight Mirrigan is here for a different reason.
‘Tonight I acknowledge my muse.
‘Tonight I dedicate my concerto to the young man whose songs have touched my heart with the essence of the Dreamtime.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mirrigan, the inspiration for the Dreamtime Concerto.’
The applause came, stronger this time, and after a handclasp Mirri made a rather bewildered way to his seat.
Tap, tap, tap.
In the hush as the soft background rhythm started again Mirri looked for understanding.
‘What happened, JJ? Why were they clapping?’
‘They’re all fans, Mirri. Jarara just told them the whole concerto is for you.’
‘For me?’
There was no time to help Mirri with his puzzlement. Jarara was now settled at the soundboard, and peeling above the soft tap, tap, tap came the raucous territorial laughter of kookaburras. The amplified sound startled Jarra so much he jumped in his seat and Mirri laughed in delight.
A triumphant crash of sound from the orchestra changed to softer joyous music and Jarra was lost in wonder as the first movement portrayed the Dreamtime coming of Light and the birth of the Sun.
In the second movement his wonder changed to astonishment when the sounds from the orchestra, the First Australian players, and the soundboard, expressed the journeys of the Rainbow Serpent across the land, and told the excitement, humour and danger of its interaction with people and animals. It was all there and, wonder of wonders, central to each part was a Mirri song. Jarara had crafted this movement around five of Mirri’s songs, with instrumentation from the orchestra and sound from his soundboard interpreting and complementing them. Jarra looked to see if Mirri was recognising his songs but he couldn’t tell. Mirri was off in the world of his mind. The world he visited at special times.
Several moments into the third movement Jarra’s concentration on the soft skirl from the soundboard was broken by Mirri’s grip on his arm.
‘Eagle Song, JJ. The Eagle Song.’
Mirri was right. And he was wrong. The song which had held Jarra transfigured when he first heard it at Birringurra it definitely was, but taken to a different level with the backing of a full orchestra and masterful didgeridoos players.
Mirri’s original Eagle Song, amplified and clear with the wonderful acoustics, sounded through the great concert hall, then came the soft strains of the orchestra. The music steadily strengthened, carrying the audience on an almost transcendent journey till the final crescendo abruptly ended with a triumphant crash of sound. Jarra, overwhelmed, sat transfixed as a joyous sound lifted into the sudden silence.
Mirri, also overwhelmed by the music, was singing.
Darkness descended except for one focused spotlight. Directional microphones amplified and carried the song to every part of the great Hall and the Dreamtime Concerto, which came to symbolise the resurgence of the First Australians, finished with the wonder that Jarara dreamed his work might inspire.
***
Epilogue
And so, Jarra and Mirrigan changed the world.
The instigation of the partnership between humanity and Independent AIs, and the capability for easy travel through space, brought decades of unprecedented expansion and prosperity and started the early stages of the spread of mankind through the Solar System.
There is no doubt that Mirrigan, through the inspiration of the Dreamtime Concerto and the pride in his exploits, was a key element for the further cultural growth of the First Australian Peoples.
Jarra’s part is universally recognised. His intelligence and application provided both the means for change and the impetus to make it happen.
Historians and commentators contend, however, that the greatest legacy from Jarra and Mirrigan was the ongoing gift of benevolent association with Artificial Intelligence. Indeed, many claim Yirgella’s naming of Mirrigan as ‘friend’ at their very first meeting was the pivotal event of the century.
And so, the Terran Diaspora began.
The End
