Ecopunk!

by Liz Grzyb

  Uncomfortable silence hung in the Land Rover as we hurtled down what used to be a highway. The government used to maintain the roads, but that was left to the locals now. If there were any. More than once, I had to slow down to circumvent a pothole so deep that even the Land Rover wouldn’t cope. And once I swerved around a pack of wild boar, but I couldn’t imagine the government doing much about those. Feral species were truly here to stay.

  We drove for hours without seeing another vehicle, let alone a settlement. I was wondering how close to Cape York we’d get when I saw it: just a shimmer in a valley up ahead. “Is that a township?” I asked.

  “I don’t see anything,” Winnie said.

  Leaning forward in her seat, Fiona frowned a little. “I’ve got no record of a community here. Slow down, would you?”

  We crept closer, looking for the obvious hallmarks of anything that might be dangerous; there were cults out here, and straight-up gun nuts. A wire fence encircled the settlement, but it wasn’t barbed or particularly high. Clusters of small wooden huts seemed to have been placed at random inside, and patches of sugar cane and fruit tree saplings filled the spaces between. You could almost smell the patchouli from here. “Looks like harmless hippies to me,” I said.

  “I don’t like it,” Winnie said. “They weren’t here last time we came through. We should come back with a bigger team.”

  Fiona was quiet for a few moments before she spoke. I could have sworn she was counting to ten. “If they really are hippies they’re not likely to sign up.”

  “But you never know, do you?” Fake optimism is better than none, right? “Don’t you want to get home quicker?”

  The silence was deafening that time, despite the rattle of the engine. Fiona’s expression didn’t change but her eyes slid away from me. Finally, Winnie spoke, tone gentle as though she were speaking to a child. “That was rude.”

  “The fuck? What?”

  She looked at Fiona pointedly. “Some people can’t.”

  I killed the engine; we’d idled long enough. “If you’re going to be overly literal about it, neither can I. Seriously, what’s your problem?”

  “That’s enough!” Fiona said, before Winnie—who, I’ll give her credit, was looking a bit surprised—could reply. Fiona’s hands were balled into tight fists on her lap. “We’ll check out this settlement. If only to get back to Cairns sooner.”

  Winnie flounced back in her seat and I started the engine again. It should have felt like a victory, but I had a feeling that nobody had won that round.

  After parking the Land Rover at the correct distance, we wordlessly followed the protocol for approaching a strange settlement. Weapons remained in the vehicle, along with all our supplies. Fiona carried her tablet over her head, its screen blank white to show we meant no harm. My guts churned and my head was stormy, but even so it was a bit of a surprise when the gates swung open of their own accord. Pretty high-tech for your garden-variety hippies.

  Right after we’d stepped inside, Fiona said, “Shit, the back-to-base message.”

  I unlocked my own datapad. It wasn’t picking up any sort of signal, not even the local radio network. “Fuck.”

  The gate slammed shut behind us and my heart dropped into the pit that was already festering in my stomach.

  They made us wait. Classic intimidation. After a while, Winnie started complaining, but she shut up when Fiona elbowed her. Good. At least I didn’t have to deal with it. I got over being scared and moved onto angry, my fists clenched by my sides and my heart thundering. Fight or flight, flight or fight. Fleeing would be the best move, of course, but goddamn if I didn’t want the fight.

  There was another gate a few metres ahead, so we were trapped between the two. At long last, a man appeared on the other side of the inner gate. He wore the crumpled hemp you’d expect, and his hair had been shaved so recently it was impossible to tell what colour it was. His face and forearms were tanned dark, but his skin was noticeably paler around the cuffs and neckline of his T-shirt. “Place your hands where we can see them and state your purpose.”

  We’d ended up standing back to back, forming a little triangle. That pit in my stomach gnawed; we were three women, outnumbered and vulnerable. By unspoken agreement, Fiona spoke for us. “We’re from the university in Cairns and we’re vaccine researchers.”

  “Scientists, here to experiment on us? Isn’t that . . . interesting.”

  “If your community doesn’t want to participate we’ll move on,” Fiona said hurriedly.

  “Yes, you will. But we’ll need to scan you before you can leave.”

  “Scan us? For what?” Winnie’s voice was so soft, I could hardly hear it.

  “GMOs, pesticides, any devices that emit a signal.”

  “How are you going to—” Fiona asked, at the same time as I said, “Why, if you’re going to let us go?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Who knows what you’ve already released without us knowing it? Something airborne, maybe, or tiny robots?”

  “Nanobots are just slightly outside our funding capabilities these days,” I snapped.

  “So you say.”

  Fiona mirrored his position. “Yes we do. And as we’ve done nothing of the sort, you’re more than welcome to scan us. We’d like to be on our way as soon as possible.”

  Yellow-stained teeth appeared as his mouth curved into an unkind smile. “I’ll need the keys to your vehicle.”

  Hands shaking, Fiona held the key out. “Please be careful with our supplies . . . they’re important to many people, if not you.”

  Sneering, he carelessly dropped the key into a colourful pocket. “So you say.”

  Fight took over me then. My face felt like a furnace with ears for exhaust pipes. I grabbed his arm, tight as I could. “Hey, most people around here would rather avoid dengue, even if you’re happy to have it ‘cause it’s natural, you mung bean.”

  Shaking off my hand easily, his expression hardly changed apart from his blue eyes burning. “What’s that? You’d like to be locked up while we search your things and scan your bodies?”

  “No!” Fiona pulled me back by my shoulders. “She doesn’t mean anything by it, she’s just upset. Isn’t that right, Kay?”

  He just ignored her and pulled out a walkie-talkie, requesting back-up. For a second, I forgot how angry I was; I was too dumbfounded by the hypocrisy.

  Fiona let go of my shoulders and gave me a look that shrank me down to a five-year-old. “Great work, Kay. Really well done.” Winnie just stood there, trembling. No doubt I’d cop her reaction later.

  Tilting my chin up defiantly, I put on my best brave face. “They won’t do anything to us, I’m sure.” Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, I swear.”

  “I’ll believe that when I see it,” she said.

  “I will!” I said. “And you’ll fix it, you’re good at the diplomacy thing. I . . . I’m sorry.”

  And that was all I had time to say, before another two dudes showed up and marched Fiona and Winnie in one direction, while Bald Mung Bean took me in another.

  Well, fuck.

  * * *

  Over my shoulder, I could see them taking Fiona and Winnie into a nearby building. Apparently, I had a longer walk, along a gravel path lined with sugar cane (organic, I assumed). Up close, I could see how hastily the buildings had been constructed; the wood still looked pretty new and splintery, and there were gaps between the planks that would let mosquitoes in. I wondered if they used bed nets here, with or without insect repellent. That aside, this place would be screwed if a cyclone hit. If there were proper cellars, I’d eat my datapad.

  Taking deep breaths, I tried my best to take in my surroundings, to stay calm. To not think about the possibility that I was about to be raped and/or murdered. I could take this guy if I had to. If he didn’t have a gun, which he probably did. Would he hesitate to use it, out here where no one apart from his own people would ever know?

  I had to
look around, see if I could see anything useful, and definitely not think about the dodgy truck driver who’d tried to convince Mum that he could drive us back down to Melbourne. How he leered at me more than her. This guy wasn’t like that. Oh, how I hoped I wasn’t just telling myself that.

  It was a gorgeous day: balmy, but it was still pretty early and safe from UV. And there were plenty of people around; they hadn’t sounded an alarm and must have known we were harmless. But there were no kids playing outside, like you’d imagine hippie kids doing. Just adults, mostly men, but a few women, and not dressed like cult slaves either. At a guess, not more than thirty people lived here. I stored that bit of information to think about later and walked along obediently. Sure, I could have made a run for it, but with Fiona and Winnie (and the Land Rover keys) elsewhere, there wasn’t much point. There weren’t going to be any heroics from me; Fiona would smooth things over and we’d be on our way, hopefully sooner rather than later. It’ll be fine, I repeated to myself as we walked. I’d only run if I absolutely had to. After kicking Bald Mung Bean in the nuts. Only if I had to.

  We stopped at a rather large building on the very edge of the settlement. Bald Mung Bean grinned. “There’s a lovely broom closet for you to . . . wait in,” he said. As if on cue, a wailing noise started up from inside the building, soon joined by others, each more aggravating than the last. I’d found the kids. He couldn’t have devised a worse form of torture if he’d known me. Every muscle in my body stiffened and he had to half-drag me in. Clamping my jaw shut, I willed myself not to beg as he shoved me into a cupboard that hardly had room for me among all the other crap.

  “We’ll have a chat to your friends and scan them, and we’ll be back for you soon. Won’t be long!”

  Pulling my lips in behind my teeth to keep myself quiet, I ignored the false cheeriness. He shut the door and turned the key, and I was alone in the dark. With screaming all around me.

  It was hard to keep a sense of time. Bald Mung Bean had confiscated my datapad so I had no clock and no light source. At least it wasn’t pitch black; a bit of light shone in from the cracks in the door frame, and my eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness. Not that there was anything much to see. The kids didn’t scream all the time, but when they did I curled up and jammed my fingers in my ears as tight as I could.

  When they were quiet, I listened for the whine of mosquitoes and slapped them dead as they landed. It was the least I could do, given that we weren’t going to be vaccinating these kids. Not that I owed the little shits any favours, but even I knew that they weren’t doing it on purpose. No, I saved all my anger for Bald Mung Bean and his mates, who were doing this to me to build up their egos and justify their bullshit philosophy. Fiona would sort him out and then I’d be out of this cupboard that was really a bit too much like the storage crates in the back of a truck—I pushed that thought away and listened out for the kids, who were pretty quiet right then.

  There were no sounds of happy playing either, though. Was it nap time? Did kids nap in the morning? Was it even still morning? I had no idea but these kids sounded nothing like the (mostly) happy bunch at Mareeba or the kids I saw in Cairns (from a distance, admittedly). I didn’t know enough about kids to work this out. Winnie or Fiona could have, but I wasn’t them. So I did the only thing I could think of. Banging as hard as I could on the door, I yelled, “I need to pee! Please! Somebody!” Nothing. “I guess I’ll have to pee on the floor then.”

  Footsteps, and an anxious woman’s voice outside. “Promise you’ll go back in when you’re done or Derek will kill me.”

  “I won’t cause any trouble. I swear.”

  The lock clicked open and a tall, pale woman opened the door. Her eyes had a vacant look about them, and she seemed to be several months pregnant. “Good, because we have enough.”

  All right then. She pointed to the left and I started walking, looking around as best I could without being too obvious and craning my neck. She walked along behind me, breathing loudly, as though it was an effort. I had almost despaired of seeing anything when she told me to turn a corner. “It’s to the left,” she said, but to the right I could see the answer to the puzzle.

  Through the doorway was a room filled with about five cots, each with a baby or small child in it. These days, anyone can spot microcephaly a mile off. They all had it, to some degree or another. The distended heads, the scrawny, out-of-proportion limbs. Vacant stares and drool and the smell of shit and vinegar. I wasn’t in the daycare; I was in the hospital.

  Jaw hanging loose, I stood as though rooted in place. “So many . . . ”

  “Please, you need to move,” she hissed urgently.

  “Right.” Forcing my head around, I turned and went into the bathroom, and used it (I really had needed to).

  She was waiting for me outside. For a moment, we just stared at each other. “That door’s supposed to be closed,” she said.

  So was my mouth, but some promises were meant to be broken. “Yeah I’ll bet. Derek wouldn’t want anyone seeing what you lot have swept under the rug. This is fucking child abuse, you know. There are people who can help, in Cairns. Speechies and OTs. Maybe not enough, but better than nothing, and they teach parents a lot.” I looked pointedly at her belly. “But why risk the WiFi signals for that, hey?”

  She burst into tears. “There’s nothing left in Cairns, the cyclones got everything.”

  “The beachfront hotels, mostly. The uni’s still there, and we built a hospital on the campus. And we’ve rebuilt a lot. What rock have you been living under?”

  “You’re . . . you’re rude.” She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

  The tears quenched my first response, to say something even nastier. “I . . . I am. I’m sorry. This must be difficult.”

  She nodded. “I have to take you back now.”

  When she opened the door and motioned me in, there was nothing left to lose. “Is this what you want for your baby? Nearly everyone’s had zika these days, and I can’t smell any insect repellent. The herbal shit does nothing.”

  She shut the door and locked it. Started sobbing as she walked away. What a waste that it was me here and not Fiona, who could have actually made a difference. I could only hope she wouldn’t risk telling Derek, in case she got herself into trouble. Fuck, this place was weird. It didn’t look culty, but it had the feel of it, and it galled me that I couldn’t do anything about it. I sat back on my heels and listened for mosquitoes again.

  At least twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door. “Uh . . . come in?” I scrambled to my feet.

  The door swung open to reveal a group of five women, including the one from before. “I’m Kate,” she said, “and we want the vaccine. I haven’t had zika, I’m sure of it. I’ve been careful.”

  “We want to know exactly what’s in Cairns for our babies,” another said.

  Standing there in shock for a few moments was probably a good thing, because I had time to remind myself to be polite. “I, um . . . what about Derek?”

  “We’ll talk to him.”

  “I’m electrosensitive,” Kate said, and I used all my strength to stop myself from scoffing. “But I’ll take the headaches if it’ll help my baby. Is . . . is there ultrasound at the hospital?”

  I opened my mouth and closed it a few times. “Look, I’m a virologist, I work at the university. I’m not a clinician and I can’t give you specific details or anything, but I know that they exist, and if we can radio in, you can ask them. But, like, you do know how jammers work, right? They’re emitting a radio signal, and you’re using walkie-talkies and scanners here . . . but you’re not—” I bit my tongue as Kate crossed her arms over her belly. “I’ll shut up. What do you want me to do?”

  “Just tell us what you do know, and what you’re doing here. Then we’ll put you back in and speak to Derek.”

  So I did, and they did. Apparently most of the kids here had parents who couldn’t deal, and one mother had died in childbirth. There were othe
r kids around, with and without birth defects. Not knowing how long Derek was planning to leave me in there for, we made it quick. If I thought I was tense before, the wait while they went to confront him was an agony of guts churning and head aching. I still killed mosquitoes, aided by the wind-up torch Kate had left with me, but it wasn’t my best effort.

  At long last, though, the door swung open once more, and Kate was there alone. “He said I may as well get you and bring you to the others.” She was silent and calm during the walk, and I followed suit. Or tried to, anyway.

  As well as Fiona, Winnie and Derek, a handful of men and at least ten women were gathered in the office Kate led me to. Word must have spread, and they spoke to each other in low voices. Fiona and Winnie seemed worn and baffled. I just looked at them, too nervous to even wave. Fiona gave a tiny smile. Winnie looked away.

  The talking didn’t stop when Derek cleared his throat; he had to try a second time. “Apparently,” he said, venom dripping, “the values of our community aren’t very important to some people here, who’d rather pump chemicals through their bodies and expose themselves to radiation than have natural remedies—”

  One of the men interrupted. “When was the last time you changed nappies in the hospital, Derek?”

  “One of those kids is yours,” Kate said. Well, fuck me dead, no one had mentioned that before. “We deserve to make this decision for ourselves, not to sit around while you lock people who can help us in a broom closet.”

  Derek threw his hands up. “If you don’t want what I’m offering, fine. Leave.”

  The room buzzed with conversation. I kept myself quiet, quiet, quiet.