Ektek

003

 

 

 

Kill the pandas

 

 

 

V M Osborne

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Creative Commons License

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

 

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

Unthinkable? stuff the pandas

 

 

If humans wish to live responsibly and sustainably, conservation is vital;

but let's look to ecology rather than cuteness for where to put our money.

 

 

 

 

uardian G logo

 

Editorial

The Guardian, Friday 9 August 2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Used by permission


 

Chapter One

 

I

Knife-shadows scattered across the numbat enclosure. Eucalypt leaves trembled in the breeze. The sun tipped sharp new growth with gold.

            Three adult females and one senior male stretched out in the gritty sand enjoying the lazy pleasure of sunbaking in the late afternoon. The strips of light and dark shifted on their banded coats. So clever was their striped camouflage, it was difficult to see where beast and sand separated.

            They were surrounded by the sounds of inexorable rituals in the closing zoo. It happened every day: just the same, day after day, reversing morning openings into afternoon closings. Human workers, dressed in crumpled khaki, squawked to each other as they puttered in their re-purposed golf carts from enclosure to feeding station to rubbish area. Doors clanged, buckets clattered, hoses swished and animals shouted their particular evening cries to each other. On thin legs, calling reassuringly to their neighbours, birds high-stepped their way to their night perches. Gaggles of human visitors straggled through the shop on their way out, bleating to their children and barking at the shop assistants, clad in bright plumage and marked with sticky ice-cream drips.

            In their striped enclosure, two young numbats laughed, jumped and scampered in play, at times even daring to crash carelessly over their elders. They raced around the logs, laughing, chasing and dodging away from Antenna. She pretended to be a bird of prey, flying and dashing at them, using her long thin face as a sort of beak-mask. She wasn’t very frightening but she certainly kept those scallywags moving, for which their parents were endlessly grateful. During their cheerful exertion, one of the youngsters fell over and began to cry. Antenna stopped running, caught the other kid easily and moved to comfort the fallen one. Pulling the two infants to her, she cradled the snivelling youngster in her forelimbs, the other child leaning into her side and watching solemnly. Antenna was gentle with the wounded child. Both trusted her.

            This was the touching scene that greeted Spark, Christmas beetle, as he flew into the numbat enclosure. The sun reflected from his multi-coloured wing case as he communicated—Do you want to see them before they go?

            Of course, Antenna barely looked at him, her attention taken by the still sniffling youngster—We have to go through all the arrangements again. Can you let them know?

            What about Eid?

            —Eid doesn’t need to know anything. He just gets back on duty and behaves himself like a good numbat should.

            —Yeah, right. Good luck with that.

            —Come on, Spark, round ‘em up. No time to waste.

            With a heavy metal clash, the door to the numbat’s sleeping quarters opened and the boots of the human keeper crunched over the granitic sand. As the man counted the numbats and checked they were where they were supposed to be, Spark, still flittering nearby, couldn’t help remarking to Antenna—You should think about having some of your own.

            —Babies? Antenna was astonished—I don’t think so. When Spark sniggered she added—What are you doing, hanging around here? Buzz off, you annoying collie!

            Spark flew a farewell Christmas beetle arc around her head. When she snapped at him, he did as he was told and buzzed off. Then she turned back to the young numbats, barely toddlers really, and looked at them anew, wondering. She closed her eyes and thought for as long as … Ooooh, half a tick … What it might be like to be a mother … Then she laughed to herself and opened her eyes. Her? Have kids? Not likely. At least she could give these back before she headed out to work and that’s exactly what was going to happen next—Come on, you kittens! Race you home!

 

 

II

In a different enclosure entirely, one piled with rocks and boulders in a landscaped effort to look natural, Hod leaned back on his tail and surveyed the setting sun with bleary half-shut eyes. He had just arrived at his customary spot at the summit of the yellow-footed rock wallaby area. He surreptitiously checked his family were all around him before commencing a personal grooming session. His ears flicked as he heard a little voice shouting—Dad! Dad! Watch me! He ignored it. That didn’t stop the childish voice, however—Dad! Dad! Hey! Dad! Look at this!

            On the path outside the enclosure, a small truck pulled up with a shriek of brakes and disgorged two humans, dressed in their Bedlam Zoo branded khaki, showing their hairy knees, prepared to do a last minute job for the day.

            Three of the more daring joeys raced down to get closer to the people. They knew these particular humans had nothing to do with them. Although they were young they could smell a vet from a considerable distance and they knew these guys weren’t vets. The joeys braced to rush off in pretend terror and they relished every second of the frisson.

            The two humans went around to the back of the truck and, with an enormous effort, untied a large sign. They dug two holes for rear support, stuck in two large braces, hammered the sign up to the fence and reinforced the struts.

            The joeys rushed around, pretending to be hunted, pretending to be petrified and shouting all the while—Dad! Hey, Dad! Check it out, Dad!

            Hod only had eyes for the workers and the sign. As they swung it from the truck he’d not been able to read it and now it was hammered up he couldn’t see the front. It annoyed him. What might it say? Stuck up on his own home and he had no way of telling what the blasted thing said. It had to be about them. Didn’t it? The two humans seemed keen to finish work for the day and packed up. As they drove away, the joeys laughed at the tools they’d left to rust in the weather but all Hod could think was: What could it mean for the yellow-footed rock wallaby community? More space? More funding? Had they been selected for some kind of honour? How could he find out?

            Another, slightly smaller, wallaby bounced effortlessly up the rocks and came to rest beside, though slightly below him, on the rock pile, raising her short arms wide to balance her position. Before she had even stopped he said—Did you see what it said?

            —What?

            —What. She asks me what. The sign, of course. Are you blind?

—Oh. No. Sorry.

            —What is it? How can I find out?

            —Hod.

            —What?

            —Don’t you hear them?

            —What?

            —Calling you.

            —I hear them.

            —Would it kill you to talk to them?

            —Don’t start.

            —You know they look up to you.

            —They can come up here, anytime. I’m not stopping them.

            —If you’re even here.

            —I can’t help that. I’ve got more important things to worry about.

            —What can be more important than the next generation? She looked at him. She really did have the most beautiful eyes—Hod?

            Hod just looked at her. Didn’t she know anything? Didn’t she have any idea what his work entailed? Did she never listen to a word he said? He was saving lives and all she worried about was her selfish little joeys. Some of them didn’t even look like him. Did she think he was a fool? Playing dad to a bunch of joeys that weren’t even his kids?

            The annoying little voice came again—Dad!

            And then there was another—Hey, Dad, look at me!

            Christmas beetle Spark didn’t even need to open his mouth as he flittered up to see Hod but he did anyway—Hey, Hod. Right to go? The wallaby didn’t bother to stop and chat; just shot away down the hill, as soon as he’d seen the glittering beetle, and shouted at him—Over here!

            What? Spark flew, following Hod to the fence and the rear of the fresh sign.

            Can you get round the front; tell me what it says?

            —What’s it worth?

            —Cut it out, Spark!

            Spark understood it wasn’t time to be joking and took off with a whiz and a whirr to hover over the sign.

            Hod waited attentively, his joeys racing around him.

            Spark whizzed back and said—The pandas are coming.

            —What’s that?

            —Beats me. See you at the meeting. Got to get going, and Spark slipped away in a gentle flurry.

            Dad! Dad!

            —Dad!

            —Sorry, children, places to go, creatures to see …

            —Aw, Dad …

            And Hod leapt away and over the fence.

On top of the rock pile, she looked over to another female, this one with a tiny joey in her pouch, and shrugged. She’d done her best. They knew nothing would ever hold Hod for long.

 

 

III

            Pardon me? Could you tell me, please, how much longer I am to be waiting? A young beetle with a red lozenge-shaped body, black abdomen and black head nosed up to Torque. She had cute trim antennae that curled round in a shapely way behind her head. Torque turned to her and worried. He was feeling harassed. What on earth could he say?

            The beetles were under the feeding centre of the zoo, a wooden structure where human Bedlam Zoo staff prepared a continual stream of meals and treats for creatures of every size from all around the world. The slats around the edge of the building splintered the remaining sunlight from outside into slivers inside, revealing the many different shaped and coloured elytra bustling about on the ground. A large group of beetles tucked comfortably into scraps and they were from everywhere, albeit within flight range from the zoo centre.

Torque, a darkling beetle with a long black body, was still nominally in charge of Ektek’s security, even though these days he seemed to spend all his time acting as provisioning officer for this disparate group of beetles who just kept on arriving at Ektek’s door. There was no stopping them. They seemed to come across the sea, across the land and across the city nearly every day now. The Ektek team simply wasn’t able to keep up with the demand. It was impossible to see even half of them, much less follow their directions to rescue the endangered animal that had requested assistance. Some stayed, waiting in the queue. Others left with their missions unfulfilled.

            Torque found it more than frustrating keeping up. He sighed and said—Look, mate. You got a name?

            —Lewis, thank you, please.

            —Lewis. Yeah. Lewis, well, I’m sorry, I don’t know when they’ll see you. I don’t even know if they ever will. It’s more than my job’s worth to tell you a day and time because it’d just be made up. I’ve got no idea. You know as much as I do and if you think that’s fair, well I don’t because I’ve been working here all my life and you’d think the least they could do is let me know what’s going on and do you think they do? No. They don’t. Torque shook his head as he watched the crowd. What was he to do with them? What was he to do with Lewis?

            Lewis, with the red elytra snapped into place over her wings, wasn’t unhappy, she just wanted clarification—Do you think it is time I have waited long enough? Maybe I should leave you? I have delivered the message. You are clear about it?

            —Nah, hang on, wait a bit; you the one with the Iberian lynx? Was that you? Torque struggled to remember as he gazed at her—They’re getting run over all the time? Was that it? No? No, don’t tell me, it was the beleaguered beluga whales?

            —Wolverines.

            —Oh, Lewis. I said not to tell me. Okay, wolverines. Though what Ektek can do about melting icepacks, I don’t know.

            —I am also in trepidation about this, Mr Torque. Wolverine seems in trouble in many areas of life and death, not just in ice; but, if no ice, no den, no babies, no more wolverines. So they say.

            No ice, no dice.

            —Beg pardon?

            —No worries, Lewis. Look, it’s up to you, mate. More than my job’s worth to try and guess what your chances are but it won’t be today, I can tell you that for nothing because they’re already off on an action, and it won’t be tomorrow because they’ll have to process their findings and publicise it. So at least three days and you’re not even first in line, are you?

            —Not sure but ... No. Not first, no.

            Spark, the Christmas beetle, appeared through the darkness and landed by the entrance near the tap. He waved to Torque in a relaxed manner as he found a little flower to gnaw upon. 

            Torque nodded back and started walking toward him even as he continued talking to Lewis—We’ll just have to hope the others know where they are in the line. Go chew on those flowers there and let me have a think. Let me know if you want to head out, okay?

            As Torque moved toward Spark he travelled through the group, most of them happily munching on flowers, melon-peel and rotting grape stalks. The visiting beetles called to him or waved their antennae. Torque would have liked to stop and chat to each of them but he was tired and had no answers. When he got to Spark he was hoping for some good news—Hi, Sparky.

—Hi, Torque. I was a bit hungry. Thought I’d drop in.

—Good, there’s a few things …

—Got to crack on … The meeting’s about to start.

            Torque nodded—Be there as soon as I can.

            Oh, no worries. You don’t need to be there. I can handle it. Spark looked round at the throng—Wow. This is getting more than just a queue, isn’t it?

            —Tell me about it. Queue? Hardly. I can’t even seem to hear the messages any more.

            —I’ll mention it at the meeting. Maybe someone might come up with an idea.

            —Like what?

            —Don’t ask me! It hasn’t been had yet, has it? See you.

            As Spark left him standing in the midst of the crowd, something happened in Torque. He made up his mind. Something had to change right here and right now and he was the beetle for the job. After all, he was supposed to be head of security, even though Spark seemed to think he could take on all the work himself. He moved to the middle of the group and stood on a piece of pineapple stalk to get a little bit above the crowd and shouted—Oi! Collies! Over here! Once he had their attention, he went on—Thank you, all you coleopties, for waiting so patiently. Listen, I don’t want to waste your time. If you want to stay at Bedlam and wait for Ektek to see you, you’re welcome. I would ask, however, that you don’t go wandering off by yourselves. This zoo’s got more vehicles and machinery than you can poke a stick at and they’ve got a habit of materialising and running creatures over just when you least expect. As for getting to see the Ektek team, well, it’s more than my job’s worth to guess when that’s going to happen. You have important messages, I know you do, all of you are holding stories of life and death in your thoraxes. Ektek can only do what it can do. Please be patient. I’m off to find out what’s happening. While you’re waiting, please relax, get to know each other and stay safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.

            A friendly muttering of agreement rose above the group. They mostly had no rush to be anywhere else; they’d all had reasonably long journeys to get there and were happy to rest for a while. No reason to give Torque any problems. But still, something needed to be done. Where was he going to put them all? He nodded grimly and headed out toward the Ektek hangar.

 

 

IV

The aviaries at Bedlam Zoo consisted of rows of small sheds connected by a walkway for human access, covered in bold and bright signage for human understanding. They were planted inside and out with an attractive array of greenery, depending on the type of bird and the country of origin. It was all very educational and alluring. From the front, that is. From the point of view of the paying public, it was designer and gorgeous. The back, however, was just a series of wire cages with locks and bolts and double access doors. There, it was all practical. Feeding, watering and cleaning had to be done without any troublesome escapes. Which is not to say there were never any escapes. Of course there were, nearly every day. The Ektek team needed to get in and out of their cages without any bother from their human carers and did so, with frequent regularity. Of course, they always came home again, before any alarm was raised.

            The various birds housed in these aviaries raised their voices to the great sky in evensong and there was general ruckus as everyone tucked in for the night. Except for one very quiet cage.

Palm cockatoos, from Far North Queensland, one of the largest birds in the world, were accommodated in a luxury of fronds and leafiness. This evening found one Palm cockatoo, Crawf, alone in his small shed. His normally perky headdress was slumped and flat; his grey feathers dark and lifeless. His normally pink cheek patches were pale, almost white. He was still, his head bowed.

Spark beetled in to the cage and shouted—Hey! Crawf! Time to go! and without looking or waiting for a reply, he zoomed away again yelling as he went—See ya there!

            Anyone who had cared to look at Crawf closely would have seen a tear rise out of his round, dark eye, flood out over the reddened rim and trickle down his face and over his feathered front.

            Only, no one did look.

 


Chapter Two

 

I

In the gloom of the tunnel system that ran under Bedlam Zoo, Gleam, tiger, stalked toward the control centre of Ektek. Although he was thin and unkempt, Gleam filled the tunnel almost completely. This was an excavation designed by beetles and ants working with small community-minded animals. They could never have imagined that large prowling predators turned vegetarian would use the tunnel but there he was. He squeezed himself through the thin burrow in order to meet the other Ektek creatures in preparation for an action that was due to commence in a matter of minutes.

Gleam and the others had been researching the local teaching hospital laboratory online for some time now and they had learned enough to believe that live animals were suffering for science. The Ektek team had decided they needed to see the experiments for themselves. There’d been many questions raised, even by the scientists involved, in the motivation behind using these creatures to improve human health. Hardly any clear answers had been provided, especially in these days of advanced molecular and genetic chemistry, when it would seem using livestock would be obsolete. Instead, millions of different animal experiments continued all over the world and breeding facilities made constant healthy profits.

Gleam’s mind was full of scientific developments, as well as opposing excuses, as to why some of the data resulting from experiments on rats and mice could not be accepted by various companies and authorities. After all, everyone knew that although non-human species had much in common with humans, there was enough of a difference in physiology to disqualify findings that ran contrary to the desired views. Gleam was hoping his own experience might help him to understand what the experiments entailed. They also intended to broadcast proceedings on the Ektek website, exposing the experiments without interfering in them.

            As he made his way through the tunnel he became aware of another creature approaching. Another large creature, lower to the ground than Gleam, dragged her heavy carcass along the floor. Gleam drifted into a slow-motion walk, lifting his feet and carefully replacing them onto the ground, crouching even more than the corridor had forced him to do previously. He sniffed the air and knew exactly who was approaching. He gauged her mood: bad, as usual. As he rounded a corner to the doorway of the control centre, he could see the low crocodile shadow in the darkness. She knew he knew she was there and they both stopped equidistant from the door in a croc-tiger standoff. Light glinted from the croc’s marble eye. A hint of flame flickered in the tiger’s. Here was trouble and it was not just a physical puzzle as to which creature should enter the doorway first. It was a psychological dilemma of dominance. Both reptile and feline were unmoving and mute in the darkness as they weighed up their options. These were the large, dangerous animals; these were the magnums.

            Gleam spoke first—After you, Shining Teeth.

            Shining Teeth snorted, a horrible sound that could have been clearing her catarrh, or it might have been laughter, and then she said—Oh, no, no, no; I insist! After you …

            Gleam sighed—Please don’t be like this.

            —Like what?

            —You know perfectly well.

            —I really don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.

            —Shining Teeth.

            —Gleam, oh, please, do explain what you mean?

            —Your sarcasm. Your forced etiquette. It doesn’t suit you.

            —It doesn’t suit you, you mean.

            Gleam sighed again—We have to make an effort here.

            —Do we? said Shining Teeth—Do we really? An effort? To work together? To ‘get on’? I’m sure I’m not the one with the forced politeness, hiding behind a mask of civility when all I really want to do is eat …

            —How do you manage, then … ?

            —Oh, I manage fine.

            — … not to eat me?

            —All that fur? No. I’ve cut a deal with Hod. To stay here in Ektek, means, well, picking my dinnertime …

            —So, you’ve controlled your instincts.

            —Only just, fuzz features. Ektek is just going to have to take me as they find me.

            —Shall we go in? They must be waiting for us.

            —I really do insist …

            Gleam bowed to Shining Teeth's greater nastiness and entered the control room where hundreds of glow-worms lit the cave with their inimitable blue blush. Over in the computer section a screen threw multi-coloured light patterns over Bash’s tiny black-and yellow-frog face. He was deeply engrossed in an activity showing on the monitor and paid no attention when the other Ektek creatures started to arrive for the planning meeting. He’d turned down the sound so that, apart from the flickering light of his monitor, no one would notice the corroboree frog or what he was doing and no one did.

            Gleam took up as little space as he could, which was still a lot of the small area in the control centre. Upon her arrival, Shining Teeth filled considerable legroom herself. The two large predators gave no indication of noticing each other but both were exquisitely alert to the other. They lay quietly on opposite sides of the floor, croc closer to the door, tiger squashed up against the wall, apparently ready to doze. No matter what they looked like, in reality, both were probably more than ready to spring at each other’s throats.

In direct contrast, Eid, the young male numbat, was sitting up on his hindquarters twitching with excitement. His erect fur made him appear much bigger than his normal size. Antenna barely glanced at him as she marched in with Hod following close behind and brushed past the earnest numbat, merely saying—What’re you doing here?

—This time I could help, said Eid—I really could. He made no effort to hide his admiration for her; he gazed at her, enthralled with her.

You could be where you’re supposed to be. Antenna went straight to a computer and, with Hod looking over her shoulder, started typing in a website address—Go home, Eid.

Please, Antenna, said Eid—Give me a break. Let me see the plan. I’m capable. You know I am …

No. Antenna looked to Gleam for backup. They’d had this argument so many times before she almost had to admire Eid’s perseverance. Almost. Her eyes narrowed in frustration and she turned her back to him. She focused on the website downloading on the monitor in front of her.

Eid, we’ve been through this, said Gleam. He spoke very carefully as though explaining basic road rules to a kid poised to cross a freeway—You’ve got your responsibilities. You have to get back to the enclosure. Antenna took your duties earlier today. Now you’re on duty. You know this.

—They wouldn’t miss me!

Go away, repeated Antenna, intent on her monitor.

Eid, said Gleam—We understand you were bred in captivity. Of course you're itching for the wild and a chance to prove yourself. What normal young numbat wouldn't? But ...

Eid had escaped from his enclosure a few weeks ago and run straight into Antenna, a numbat with misfortune of her own, just outside the zoo. Luckily, she’d been able to persuade him, by the sheer force of her presence, it was better to remain in the vicinity of the Zoo, even if she’d had to parlay her own liberty to do it. This had been shattering for Eid, absolutely life changing. His dreams of wilderness, his ideas of freedom and finally, his very concept of what he was, had been shaken to the core. Every day, he was still being shaken to the core and the name of his own personal earthquake was Antenna. He could not take his eyes off her and he thought of little else. How could he get her to notice him? How could he get her to respect him? How could he impress her? At the moment, these were insurmountable questions and he watched her glare at him, again, as usual, as though she found him the most annoying creature in the entire world. Maybe she did.

Eid, stop arguing. Directing what seemed her most fierce stare at him, Antenna reiterated the threat—It’s a risk we can’t afford. If the humans should find you missing …

—Come on, it’s been ages …

—Not in human terms. You know perfectly well they’d dig the whole place up looking for you. We can’t risk that. They’d find Ektek and that would be the end, of everything.

Eid felt his chance slipping away, again, and he just couldn’t bear it—I know I could be useful, he tried, one more time—I’d pay attention, I’d be obedient …

Gleam had been suffering quietly. He’d kept his head down and he’d counted mentally to ten but his patience was sorely tested and he’d only got to five before he snapped and jumped up with a roar—Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh …

Shining Teeth would have raised an eyebrow, if she’d had one. Instead a slight twitch appeared above her flame-coloured reptile eyes as she sneered in a sing-song voice—Hmmmm. Temper …

Hod looked over to the croc and shook his head slightly.

What? Shining Teeth noticed the subtle admonishment and looked as innocent as she possibly could, widening her eyes and blinking flamboyantly. She looked at Hod—We all know the tiger doesn’t go in for killing anything. He won’t even scratch. His roar is the only scary thing about him and that’s not so bad, is it, Eid?

Hod sighed and turned back to Gleam. There was no way he wanted to bait Gleam. He didn’t want to encourage Shining Teeth either. He knew only too well she loved a fight. Her eyes shone and she almost wagged her crocodile tail as she looked over at Gleam and Eid and silently egged them on.

Eid and Gleam were now nose to nose simply because of the limited space. When the tiger stood up he filled the room. The fact that Eid had no fear of the enormous tiger should have been astounding, only everyone knew that Gleam had made a solemn oath never to kill another living thing. The worst he would do was roar, and, although that was fairly imposing and had been known to bring down small rocks from the dug out ceilings under the zoo from time to time, it posed no real danger, except to hearing.

Sit down, said Gleam and Eid, deciding he was better off proving his obedience right now, sat. Gleam also returned to sitting and then lay, squashing himself back against the wall with a slight look of guilt at losing his temper yet again.

Eid. Antenna took up the argument with an air of weariness—You have to believe us and you have to be patient. You’re still too new. The numbat breeding program is one of the most expensive projects Bedlam has ever undertaken. You’re worth a lot to them in terms of credibility. There will come a time when your absence won’t be noticed but, seriously, it’s not now.

Eid watched Antenna, judging how far he could push her. The last thing he wanted was to piss her off but he couldn’t help it. He needed to be involved with this work. He needed action. He couldn't go back and moulder behind bars. It was only sheer luck – their coats were so similar (tones of sandy red by their shoulders) and they were alike in size – that she’d thought of the exchange program. Eid was a little bigger than Antenna, but as they would never be seen in the same place at the same time, that didn’t matter. This meant the two numbats could swap without arousing interest from the human keepers. He knew he was being unfair to Antenna but he suspected she found certain benefits from her time with the numbat family. He also knew that if the keepers took a closer look, due to the boy-girl thing, they would be found out. He decided he’d probably pushed her as far as he could at the moment but he couldn’t help going in for one last attempt—At least could you …

No, said Antenna—No. She turned to rebuke him further but before she could get her mouth open Torque flew in from the corridor outside, straight toward her, landed on the console and said—Antenna. We’ve got a problem.

—I know, we’re just looking them up …

—What?

—The pandas …

—Pandas? What? No. Beetles. Far too many of them, more than my job's …

—Beetles? What? No. Can we deal with these pandas first? Hod’s reported a sign over his enclosure …

—Look, said Hod, pointing at the monitor—Here we go. Told you. And he was staring at a newsflash across the Bedlam Zoo website announcing the arrival of their very own pandas; a potential breeding couple named Zui Hou and Xia Shi—Oh, no. Hod was shaking his head. He banged his paw on the desk.

Antenna. There are so many beetles I can’t even count them any more much less listen to their numbers, Torque carried on—Do you think you could see even one today? Two would be better, of course …

—Not today, Torque, said Antenna—Come on, we’re late as it is. You know we’re supposed to get organised for this action …

—Then when? Really. When can you see them? Should I tell them to go?

—Can we transfer them electronically? said Hod.

—The beetles? said Antenna.

—No, the pandas, said Hod.

—Why? said Gleam—They may actually be worth something to us.

Antenna was not impressed—To us?

Gleam continued—Pandas are the biggest marquee animals …

Marquee? What’s that mean? said Hod quietly to Shining Teeth.

What a dork, muttered Shining Teeth—Why’s he’s talking about tents at a time like this … Pointless.

Our last zoo had pandas and they raised enough turnstile money to run all sorts of conservation programs, said Eid—They’re a good thing, really, for the bank.

—We don’t need them, said Hod—Pandas just hog all the money and attention. What about all the other suffering species?

—Stop them coming, said Shining Teeth—Be a lot easier than getting rid of them.

Eid, asked Antenna—What's turnstile money?

Eid perked up then. This was something new. Antenna had actually heard something he’d said! He explained—That's the reason to get pandas. I agree with Gleam. The marquee is the hoarding over the door where you put the name of the stars to get public attention. Pandas bring the public. Humans love pandas ...

—Oh, disgusting ... said Shining Teeth.

—And they bring in money. Lots of money.

Humans fawn over them because they're like cute fluffy toys, said Hod—All the other creatures in the zoo will fade into the background and disappear.

—You don’t need pandas, said Shining Teeth.

—Actually, we might. said Antenna—Like, Eid said ... Perhaps the extra money could be used to protect habitat for other creatures in the wild?

—As if … muttered Shining Teeth.

—There’s a lot to be gained, said Gleam—from having such a drawcard.

—Oh, no, here we go … said Shining Teeth to Hod who just rolled his eyes.

—I think we should welcome them, continued Gleam—They too are endangered; and a flagship species; like the website says; a high profile exotic species. Could help to bring the spotlight to us all.

—You’re talking like they’re some kind of emblem for threatened wildlife, said Hod.

—Which they are, said Antenna.

—Well, they’re doing a useless job so far, aren’t they, said Hod—Plus, what about us rock wallabies? They’re shoving us right down the end of the zoo in a tiny enclosure next to the waste disposal centre.

—Okay, Hod, we’re not going to solve this now, we need to be preparing for the university. Where’s Crawf?

—Coming, said Spark—At least, I thought he was.

What’s keeping him? You’re supposed to be leaving now. Is everyone else here? Where’s Bash?

—Here. Antenna and Gleam looked over to the source of the little frog voice and then looked at each other. That young corroboree frog had been playing computer games for as long as he could stay away from water for some time now. Should they worry about him? Just as Antenna was about to say something Eid piped up yet again—Please? Can I go?

—No, you can’t. Torque, will you please take Eid back to his enclosure and make sure he stays put? Spark, can you get over to Crawf and put a cracker under him?

Sure. Spark flew up and whizzed past Eid’s head. He came back round and clipped Eid’s ear. Eid reached up and spat out his long worm tongue but Spark was ready and zipped out of reach – a considerable distance – Eid’s tongue was long.

I can’t believe you animals! This is no time for mucking about! We’ve got an action to get to. Now!

Eid followed Torque and Spark out of the cave.

As the other creatures got to their feet and stretched in preparation to leave—There is one more thing, said Shining Teeth—I’m not taking orders from anyone; not even a tiger. Especially a tiger as piss weak as this one.

Gleam just laughed. Weakness was in the eye of the beholder as far as he could judge—I don’t feel weak, Shining Teeth.

Shining Teeth sneered at him—It’s not for you to decide. If I’m on an ‘action’ with you busy bodies then what I do is my business.

Antenna flung Hod a look that asked 'What are we going to do with her?'

Hod saw that look and said—Shining Teeth's just joking, aren’t you, Shining Teeth? You agreed to help us, didn’t you? I mean, we’re helping you, giving you sanctuary and all that, right? Remember?

—Yeah. Giving me a place to live when you’re all in hiding underground. Right. Big deal. I’m still my own boss.

—We’ll work it out, said Hod, pouring on reassurance as fast as he could—Don’t worry, Antenna. It’ll work. Nice, simple surveillance, back before breakfast. You’ll see. We’ll work together like a well-oiled machine, won’t we? Gleam? Shining Teeth? Bash?

Gleam silently agreed with Hod but couldn’t help flicking Shining Teeth a slightly worried look. Bash didn’t look up from his computer game. Shining Teeth snickered.

Antenna sighed and then caught sight of the computer screen in front of her. Pandas. Friend or foe?

 

II

Torque flew and Eid walked through the hangar to get to the numbat enclosure. Eid sniffed the air, looked at everything and just couldn’t help his paws from reaching out to touch. Torque kept having to fly back to keep him on track—Come on, Eid, which worked momentarily. At least, until the next time Torque was forced to remind Eid to—Put that down, you don’t know where it’s been, and get moving again.

After all this time, his whole working life, in fact, even Torque wasn’t immune from the fascination of the working Ektek hangar. It was a huge cave, carved out and enhanced over the years by an army of beetles and ants. Here mechanic beetles tended to vehicles used in actions to rescue endangered animals all over the world. The Ektek fleet covered everything from boats to steam powered cars and, in theory at least, each vehicle would be ready at a moment’s notice. The hovercraft and five-legged remote controlled stalkers were parked in dimly-lit recesses.

The noise was intense; the business of vehicle maintenance flourished with all the attendant shouting and clashing of metal on metal produced by skilled beetle mechanics.

Cleverly sculpted skylights captured daylight up on the surface of the zoo landscape, some incorporated into human buildings and some cleverly camouflaged in animal enclosures. Sunlight entered the skylight, was captured and funnelled by tubes containing mirrors; the light, bouncing down the tube mirror to mirror, could be directed to where it was most needed. Currently, half of the light tubes were focused on a small group of beetles working on the tank, an armoured vehicle capable of moving through and over most obstacles. The rest of the light was beamed onto a team working on the wingship, an elegant plane with curving wings.

After a little time spent observing her, Torque approached Manifold, a red-and-blue bombardier beetle. She was the chief mechanic and she looked worried.

Manifold? said Torque.

Yup?

—Got a moment?

—Nup. Up against it. Got to get the tank and wingship out.

—We’ve just come in from the control centre. They’ll be a while yet.

—No one told us.

—They’re a bit behind. It’s just, I’ve had an idea.

—Quick then. You know what it’s like. When they’re tired, that’s when accidents happen, and she watched her team even as she bolted the side of the fuel lid back on the wingship.

Am I right in thinking you could use some extra hands?

—Could I, what.

—I’ve got some.

—What? She looked him up and down as if expecting to see his extra hands sprouting from under his elytra.

Torque didn’t notice—If you want some extra workers, I’ve got them.

—Where from?

—Everywhere. The numbers. There’s no time for the team to hear them so they’re just waiting around. Eating. They’ve got nothing to do.

—Haven’t got time to teach them anything.

—What do they need to know? To start with, I mean?

—Safety protocol, cleaning, I don’t know, everything …

—I’ll train them.

—You?

—Well, if I don’t know about safety, what do I know, eh? That’s my job, Manifold. Security. I can give them the occupational health and safety drills and teach them what goes where. If you let me know anything else you need, well, you got some extra workers.

Manifold stared at him, thinking, that just might work, when another voice broke in—What about me?

Torque and Manifold both looked up at Eid, who stood roughly a hundred times bigger than both of them put together. They looked back at each other and before they could say no, Eid continued, rather desperately—I could help. I know I could. I’m a fast learner and I …

Already have a job, said Torque—You’re supposed to be on duty in the numbat enclosure right now. It’s more than my job’s worth to have you hanging around …

—When I’m not on duty, I could be here. I could clean. I can listen …

—We’d have to ask Antenna. Let’s go …

Actually, Manifold broke in thoughtfully—Could use someone with a bit of height. Got a new skin for the airship coming out of the spiders even as we speak. Previous skin got blasted into a million pieces and we need it reassembled to get a pattern. You could do that.

Eid could have hugged her but he didn’t know how to hug a beetle without squashing her. He grinned instead and said—Thanks, Manifold. See? Torque? Antenna doesn’t have to know, does she? After I’ve been counted I can just come here and what she doesn’t know, she doesn’t have to worry about.

—More than my job’s worth to make a call on that, said Torque.

—Don’t say no …

—I’ll think about it. Sorry, Manifold. We’d better get him back to work.

—Listen, Torque, if you can help, that’d be great, said Manifold—And I meant what I said: I could definitely use the numbat.

—I’ll bring them round for an orientation …

—After the action’s gone.

—Looks like you’ve got yourself an extended workforce.

  Manifold watched them leave the hangar; Eid moped behind, his tail down between his legs, as he followed Torque like a bizarre giant pet. She shook her head and turned back just in time to see a young stag beetle drop a shifting spanner right on an unsuspecting rose chafer’s head. The rose chafer shook his head and continued without even a pause but even so, Mandible reckoned it was time to trot out her safety-with-tools lecture and it was worth seeing the look on those two beetles faces when she started forward, shouting—Whoa! That’s the sort of negligence I’m talking about right there!   

 

 

III

Spark watched Crawf from the edge of Crawf's cage. He could see how the bird was slumped and realised he’d been remiss. He hadn’t actually heard the cockatoo speak when he’d been through the aviaries before. Spark watched for a while and then looked further into the cage. He hesitated for a moment before he jumped into the air and flew toward the grey cockatoo. He landed on a stick that grew out from Crawf’s perch and cleared his throat.

            Crawf gave no indication of being aware of his beetle visitor.

            Crawf? Spark said quietly—Where’s Sunday?

            After a miserable silence, Crawf gave a sigh and then said—Gone.

            —Cleared?

            —No.

            —What then?

            —My fault.

            —Crawf? Crawf stayed silent but Spark pressed on—How can it be? Tell me.

            —She was lying on the floor.

—When?

—This morning. Crawf looked up through his net ceiling at the darkening sky. If he’d been thinking he might have noticed the first stars were visible but he didn’t see. He couldn’t see anything except the vision of his dead partner on the floor at the break of dawn. He opened and shut his beak silently before he could continue—An ant walked out of her beak.

Spark needed to confirm what Crawf was telling him—Dead?

Crawf was in pain and could only spit words out like shrapnel—Dusty. Cold.

—It’s not your fault, Crawf.

—She died of a broken heart.

—Crawf.

—Because her eggs never hatched. Did you know that? It was my fault. She tried and tried, always sitting on cold dead eggs. Because of me.

—Crawf. You don’t know that.

—Hullo? I know. I know what I did in my own life. I left her alone. I was always out on Ektek business; more and more, far more than she wanted me to. You know how much I’ve been away. She never wanted me to go but I left her and she was always alone and then she died.

—Crawf. You can’t take this on by yourself.

—I have to. I’m the only one; the last Palm cockatoo in the world. I can’t leave this place again. I’ve got a responsibility to educate the human public.

—What about Ektek?

—What about them?

—You’re supposed to be flying the wingship? For the action? Starting now?

—None of that matters any more.

—But it does.

—Go away.

—But, what will I tell them?

—Tell them I’m not doing it any more. Tell them that. Tell them I quit.

—What?

—I’m done. Do you hear me? That’s it. Finished. I quit Ektek.

—You can’t.

—I can. I just have.

Spark stared at Crawf from his perch next to the giant bird. Could Crawf quit? Spark decided he needed some help with this one. He’d never heard of anyone quitting before. He shook his head and left Crawf to his lonely perch.

Crawf raised his claw to stamp but he did not have the energy. He merely placed his foot back on the perch and curved again into stillness.

 

 

IV

A tall masculine human figure in a long leather overcoat, heavily armed and begrimed, ran evenly over a smashed landscape. The world was in sepia, in ruins, all colour bleached from the sky and soil. Trees were oddly stunted trunk memories. Plant life was grey, pale and the sort of tough stuff that clung to life on the mere promise of water. The man ran past a ruined building, the remnant walls pitted by a history of explosions.

Suddenly a ball of flame appeared in front of the man and he raised an enormous gun and shot rapidly at a figure now running fast directly toward him. The figure blasted apart, the head atomised and the chest exploded in a spray of bloody gore. The crumpled remains fell apart, lumped onto the pallid sand. Leather coat man stood above the mess and was suddenly blocked out by a rectangle of black. A grid of green letters glowed on the screen; a menu of weapons and medicines the crushed victim had been carrying.

Bash tilted his head to one side, narrowed his eyes, selected a stimpack, a wrench and a minigun from the list before clicking the instructions for his leather coat character to run on through the post-apocalyptic landscape. It was definitely kill or be killed in this arena and Bash needed to concentrate in order to survive. He tightened his lips in determination and his character forged on in a loping run.

Spark flew into the control room and joined Antenna at the console where she and Hod continued to read about pandas. Spark looked up at the numbat and frowned. She wasn’t going to like what he had to say but he had to say it anyway—Crawf’s not coming.

Antenna said—What?

—He quit.

—He what?

—He’s quitting Ektek.

—He can’t do that.

—He has.

—Okay. They’ll have to go without him. Oi! Antenna stood and waved her paw in front of Bash’s screen—Quit the game.

But I’ve just found a munitions factory!

—Now.

—If you say so. Bash ran over the trackball and leapt onto the drawing tablet to save his game and finally quit. He turned to look at the team and quickly looked down again.

Gleam, Antenna, Hod and Shining Teeth waited for him and none of them looked happy. 

Let’s go, Antenna left first, followed in the air by Spark.

Gleam said—Come on, Bash. What are you waiting for?

Bash jumped from the console to the top of Gleam’s head and then squished himself down by the big cat’s ear as they scraped under the door and into the corridor.

Hod and Shining Teeth brought up the rear and, as they travelled smartly through the tunnel toward the hangar, he said—You got to leave the tiger alone, Shining Teeth. It’s not a joke.

—Not to you.

—Not to any of us. Just because he’s made himself a promise, doesn’t mean you have to rile him up. We’ve got work to do.

—Okay, I’ll be good. Don’t you worry about a thing.

Hod shook his head as they hurried down the hallway. Shining Teeth couldn’t have said anything more disturbing. There was no way he’d not be worrying now and there was no way he’d be able to stop her doing whatever she thought was ‘good’.

They arrived in the hangar to find the beetles had built a tiny palanquin for Gleam to wear and a group of them were affixing it from a platform about tiger head height. Gleam did not look at all pleased about this new headgear.

Hod sent Shining Teeth a silent plea to keep her trap shut about it. Shining Teeth flashed him an innocent smile. Then again, given her large row of visible teeth, it always looked as though she was smiling anyway. It was doubtful she ever was. Hod hoped she kept her opinions to herself and worked as part of the team.

Antenna and Manifold were in hurried conference about which vehicle to take now they were one pilot down. It seemed best that the activists all travel in the tank together. The ant and beetle ground crew immediately swarmed to work over the land vehicle.

Hod moved round to the front of the tank, observed the team’s efforts and then jumped into the driver’s seat, which had been specially adapted to his wallaby size and shape after the death of the previous driver. Bash already sat on the dashboard like a shiny black-and-yellow ornament.

Shining Teeth and Gleam arrived at the tank’s rear door about the same time. Shining Teeth took a long hard look at Gleam wearing the strange new contraption on his head and snorted her careless snort of snotty laughter again.

Gleam watched her cautiously.

Shining Teeth said—After you … I insist …

Gleam snarled, just a little bit, more of a turn of the lip really, and climbed up the ramp without giving in to the strong urge to bite her head off.

Shining Teeth swept her large body up into the tank and, as far away from Gleam as she could be, made herself as comfortable as possible in these trying conditions.

Antenna looked in at them. Both tiger and croc looked uncomfortable, such large beasts squashed into the small passenger space. Given their difficult relationship, Antenna didn’t imagine they’d be playing ‘I Spy’ on the journey—Okay? she asked.

What’s it look like? said Shining Teeth, staring at her, staring anywhere at all except at the tiger in the tank.

Fine, said Gleam who was also avoiding looking in the direction of the crocodile.

Antenna nodded and said—Good luck, into the almost palpable apprehension. She went to join Manifold who had just finished delivering her report about the roadworthiness of the tank to Hod. He sat separate from the passengers in his own protected driver’s pod. The plan meant Hod would stay with the vehicle as the nominated get-a-way driver while the others inspected the lab. When Antenna appeared, the small bombardier beetle said to her—You do realise sound’s still a problem?

Antenna sighed and rolled her eyes. There was always something—Wasn’t that fixed?

Can’t, said Manifold—Wiring’s stuffed.

Is there no way we can … ?

Not without using the wingship as relay station. And we can’t do that …

—We don’t have a wingship. Right. Antenna turned to Spark who was hovering nearby—And you’re certain about Crawf?

—Crawf ‘ain’t going nowhere.

—We’re on limited AV as it is, said Bash—We’ve only got the one camera for me anyway.

Antenna nodded—We’ll need footage of whatever creatures you see and remember to get shots of labels on the cages and any other paperwork you find. If there are any charts, descriptions of the experiments, anything at all to go on, get some vision, right?

—I’ll try, said Bash.

Be careful, said Antenna.

Hod grinned—Aren’t we always?

Knowing the answer, for him at least, was a clear and resounding ‘no’, Antenna shook her head at him—You could at least try to be reassuring. She raised her front paw in farewell and backed off to stand by Manifold and the team of disparate mechanic beetles.

Doors slammed shut, were cross-checked and made fast. Hod gunned the engine and the tank roared out of the Ektek cavern in a cloud of burning recycled chip oil redirected from the zoo’s kiosk. Antenna couldn’t help coughing at the pungent smell of old chips and dim sims. As she wiped tears from her eyes, Torque flew up to her—Antenna? Can we speak?

Gasping for air, she managed—You might, and she continued to cough.

Taking that as permission, Torque pursed his little darkling lips—It’s all these beetles. We’ve got a crisis. Some of them have been waiting for weeks now. Is there any way we can forward them to other zoos to deal with?

—I can ask but I suspect that everyone’s got the same sort of pressures as us. Like, for instance, we’re just not going to be able to get to those polar bears. It’s not possible to save them. We’ve got to be real about this. We only have a limited crew. We can only take on certain jobs. We need a way to hear the numbers and decide, quickly, if the job’s too far or too difficult. Could you do that? Sort them, I mean? Make the decisions? What’s that called? Triage, isn’t it?

—That’s what I’ve been doing more or less. What do you think if Manifold finds work for some of the ones that’re waiting?

—Torque. Ask Manifold. It’s up to her. If she can use them …

—Any of them? interrupted Torque, thinking of Eid, but not wanting to mention him by name or by species. Seemed reasonable to expect that what went for the collies would apply to the numbats. Why not?

—Any of them, that’s fine. Do with them what you will for I have no answers. It’s all too much for me. What can I do?

—A lot.

—It’s never enough, though, is it. Antenna turned and left.

Torque looked around the hangar and found Manifold—Oi! He shouted—We’re on!

Manifold looked up from the airship’s engine block where she was about to start work and stared at him—Please remember, I can’t deal with a bunch of beginners, Torque.

—Leave them to me. It'd be more than my job’s worth to let you down …

 

 

V

Crawf curved even further into his sad question mark shape when Antenna arrived at the aviaries. It was getting dark and cold and Antenna had to work hard to discern his silhouette in the shadows—Crawf? They’ve gone. Without you.

            Crawf said nothing and Antenna sighed. She wasn’t going to give up just yet—Crawf, I’m sorry about Sunday. Crawf remained silent.

After an impatient wait on Antenna’s part she said, with a voice much sharper than usual, but she felt the conversation was rather too one-sided—I don’t believe you.

            Crawf looked up in the dimness and sought her out—What?

            —Spark told me you quit.

            —What’s not to believe about that? I do. I quit. End of story.

            —Oh, I believe that. It’s the rest I don’t believe.

            —Antenna? What are you talking about?

            —I don’t believe you’re the last of your kind.

            —Why not? My partner’s dead and we didn’t have any eggs. Why wouldn’t I be the last in the world?

            —You might be the only one in this zoo but not the world, Crawf. The whole world’s a big, big place and you, my friend, are an attractive parrot.

—Not a parrot.

This was more like the old Crawf. Antenna felt quite pleased she’d managed to rouse him—When did you last see your siblings?

—How can that help?

—Don’t know. Just tell me.

—When I was taken from the nest to come here I saw Budge. Budge was my brother. I saw them squash him into a tube.

            —You what? said Antenna.

            —He got taped into a tube and a man put him under his shirt and went away. That was the last I saw of Budge.

            —You saw that?

            —You calling me a liar?

            —No, no, not at all, I’m just thinking there’ll be records where you came from and if they’re involved in smuggling … We should be able to find them. Come on, let’s get out of here. We’ve got work to do.

            —You think you can find Budge?

            —We can only try. That’s all Ektek can ever do, isn’t it?


Chapter Three

 

I

The crocodile made no secret of her scrabble under the fence. She wasn’t careful and she wasn’t quiet. She made it through her shallow tunnel and rose to her reptile feet on the other side when a large dog arrived to shout at her. He proceeded to yell and scream. Right in her face.

            She’d been expecting him, or someone like him, earlier and so merely flared one nostril slightly at his appearance—What kept you?

            He had a dark pointed face, large fluffy ears and enormous teeth. He ranged in colour from darkest black to palest fawn. He was gloriously huge and his luxurious fur coat only made him look bigger. He was furious at the discovery of this blatant intrusion. He was on duty and it was his job to kill the invader. He pawed the ground and leaned forward into her as he blasted her with his biggest bark and showed her his awful teeth. He almost lost his reason in this flood of righteous rage and the croc stood and watched, acting just a little bit bored, as he shouted again and again—Piss off! Get out! You stupid idiot! I have to kill you!

            The croc smiled and the wave in her jaw, fenced with teeth, was formidable even though it could have done with a good scrub.

            The dog didn’t understand the crocodile. She was such a completely different species from his own, he could not have realised who he was dealing with.

            Shining Teeth did not back down.

            Lucy, patrolling at the far side of the university building, hated the weight of hunger in her guts. She would not be fed until morning, after her work was done. She was sick of the metres and metres of chain-link fence. All she had done since starting work, years ago as an adolescent, was to march up and down this same fence line every night and she was cold and she was over it. But then she heard Mack barking like the devil itself was trying to break in to the grounds. It was unusual to get intruders this early in the night. Sometimes there were pathetic attempts by drunken humans that never lasted long after the dogs had showed them their teeth. Oh, now, Lucy could hear the dogs in the lab start up. Barking, panic, bellowing, it was infectious. There, the monkeys and the sheep were joining in. Contagious—What’s going on? the trapped creatures all shouted. Lucy lifted her beautiful head to listen to Mack. A note of urgency in his bark told her she’d better see what was happening and she turned to go. That’s when she heard the gentle pads of very big feet walking toward her. She swung around to see the largest creature she’d ever seen looking right at her and on her side of the fence, too. Lucy stared into eyes coloured with darkest caramel flames and she growled with exceeding menace—What the hell do you think you’re doing here?

 

 

II

In the Ektek control room, Antenna and Crawf concentrated on separate monitors. Five out of the six available screens were on; two for the lab action and two for their Palm cockatoo research. The other active monitor still showed the panda newsflash. Antenna had not yet decided how she felt about pandas. They were only a distant problem, however. Right now, Antenna had more immediate concerns.

            Both Antenna and Crawf controlled different types of keypads. The evolution of Ektek meant that all sorts of creatures with diverse skills and attributes had worked in front of these monitors. Antenna worked with a touch-sensitive flat input mat on which she could type or draw with a light touch of her paw, or even her nose, come to that. Crawf operated the track ball and click system, still warm from Bash’s warfare, using beak, feet and his ubiquitous chewed-up stick.

            Antenna had prepared one screen to receive footage from the experimental lab. She’d already set up a story based on Gleam’s research. They’d investigated animal experiments after they’d had contact with a chimpanzee that, in the course of her working life had been observed after being infected with HIV AIDS and Hepatitis B plus she had served her country in an orbiting space lab. It had come as a surprise to all of them that the local university hospital still used live animals and that the various research studies were paid for by such a wide range of industry. Education had a price and for some animals it was about as high as a price could get.

            The Ektek page was open and read: ‘Who will save the animals?’ If a viewer were to click on the question, the answer, ‘They will’ would slowly take its place on the screen. An updated link encouraged visitors to check out the vivisection page for refreshed information.

            On another monitor, Crawf checked to see if any Palm cockatoos were listed in the official international studbook registry. As soon as the studbook page downloaded he gasped with surprise—Hullo?

            —What? said Antenna, coming up to look over his shoulder.

            There is a Palm cockatoo studbook …

            —Still operating?

            —Absolutely. What about that?

            —So, I was right? You’re not the only one?

            —You can say ‘I told you so’ if you like.

            —That’s okay. Even if I did tell you so.

            The two creatures grinned at each other and then turned to look at the pages of birds: names and numbers from all over the world. Crawf took in a huge breath of air in relief—I’m not the only one. I truly am not. Wow. It’s hard to believe.

The pink colour was already darker in his face patches. His crest rose slightly and flounced back, an improvement on the Emo dripping look he’d been sporting earlier. Antenna watched him recover and gently snuffed into his feathers—Better now?

            —Hullo? Antenna? Thank you. I can’t …

            —Well, don’t. Just see if you can work out where Budge might be.

            —Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that. Hel-lo, Budgie boy. Come out, come out, wherever you are … Crawf set to reading the list in more detail. He muttered quietly to himself—I’ve got family. How about that? That’s something, isn’t it?

            —That most certainly is … Antenna spoke faintly. Her concentration was taken up with the search through pet shops and online bird fanciers. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Bash had switched on his camera. She looked up to see the feed from the university was now alive on the other monitor—We’re on, she said as she adjusted the colours and prepared to send the footage to the web page. She watched as a large dog glared, focusing just below the camera’s lens—Hmmm, guard dog … From the angle of its head she realised it must be looking directly at Gleam. The dog was obviously surprised by Gleam's appearance and, of course, was en garde; ready to strike at any moment. Antenna wasn’t worried. She knew Gleam could put on the charm and make the dog understand their reasons for breaking into the university grounds. She was incredibly frustrated that she couldn’t hear anything,—Damn. Wish we knew what was going on …

 

 

III

            We come in peace, friend, said Gleam—We mean you no harm. He spoke rapidly with an obvious and clear intention to calm the dog—Let us quickly find your colleague. He's in danger. You must not underestimate how important this is. Please, lead on. Immediately. Unfortunately, my associate is capable of great mischief unless we find her, right now.

            Hesitating, Lucy heard Mack’s voice strangle into a desperate yelp she had never heard before and wished henceforth to never hear again. Immediately she turned and raced across the compound to where she suspected Mack was at bay. The tiger ran behind her shouting—Shining Teeth, we’re in! Shining Teeth, hold your combat!

            They were too late. Shining Teeth stood over the ripped remains of Mack, once a handsome creature, now irrevocably crushed. She lifted her long heavy head from the still warm, furry body and smiled at the tiger. Her crocodile muzzle was decorated with gore.

            Lucy rushed to Mack’s side and then anchored, barking with all her might, teeth bared at Shining Teeth, barking, barking, as if she were a hound from hell.

            Gleam stood, breathing heavily after their desperate run. He growled—There was no need, Shining Teeth.

            —What’s need got to do with it? Shining Teeth looked up at him, totally ignoring Lucy’s fraught shouts—What would you know, you great hairy marauder? It was kill or be killed. It’s the natural order, after all.

            Gleam shook his head—There is another way.

            Shining Teeth nodded, her head signalling the heaviest sarcasm—Of course there is, Gleam. You’d know best, Gleam. Whatever you say, Gleam. Then, as she’d had enough of everyone bewailing a dead creature she had no interest in, she considered it was time to move on—Let’s get away from this shit, shall we? The croc swung aside from the corpse and strode, as deliberately as her short legs would carry her, toward the main university building—This way, I believe?

            Bash, tiny frog, rode a jerky trip in the palanquin tied to the top of Gleam’s head like a little hat. He could not believe his eyes as they stood beside the dead dog. He was silent as he watched Lucy cry. The camera he held continued to record.

 

 

IV

In the control room, Antenna watched the screen as Shining Teeth left the bloody scene. Slowly, from her place in the Ektek control cave, the numbat got to her feet. It was an involuntary muscle spasm that brought her to standing. She was not aware of any conscious decision to move. Antenna simply could not believe what she was seeing; the bloodied crocodile leaving a mangled dog spread out on the grass. This was no Ektek action. This was disgusting. She let out a small sound of revulsion but could not drag her eyes from the screen.

            Crawf urgently searched through a list of numbers. He glanced up quickly when he sensed Antenna’s movement but, unseeing, went straight back to his task. As it soaked into his birdbrain that something had changed, that Antenna was standing, staring in shock at the video monitor, he came out of his hopeful reveries of family reunions and, in double take, looked again at Antenna. She was indeed in shock and continued to stare in horror at the screen.

            Hullo? Crawf also stood and came to stand beside her to look at her monitor—What happened?

            —Shining Teeth happened, said Antenna. Both stared at the dead dog with alarm.

            She’s too dangerous, said Crawf.

            Antenna swallowed—I know.

            What are they saying? Why can’t we hear?

            No sound. If we’d had the wingship …

            —We could relay it. Of course. I’m sorry, Antenna.

            —You had your own problems.

            —Yes, but this …

            Antenna stamped her foot in frustration—I’ve never felt so helpless!

            They watched the screen as the living guard dog flung back her head and howled over the body of her mate.

            Antenna and Crawf could only imagine what that howl, mute to their ears, must have sounded like.

 

 

V

Hod stared at the small screen in front of the tank’s driver’s seat. He leaned forward. When he finally took in air he realised he must have been holding his breath. It wasn’t because he couldn’t believe his eyes. He knew Shining Teeth better than the others. He knew she was perfectly capable of killing randomly, without need or compassion. He’d been dreading it or something like it. He’d known it would come sooner or later but he’d been hoping for later. Now she’d done it he didn’t know what his response should be. He tried to clear his mind and quell his rising panic.

            He sat in the tank parked outside the teaching part of the hospital, where the university and the hospital met. Here were research facilities and lecture theatres, tutorial rooms and a car park with a boom gate across the entrance to the car park. He’d not bothered taking the tank inside in case there were video cameras surveying the car park. He waited, hopefully unobserved by university security, just outside the campus grounds.

            Bash’s footage relayed into the tank’s system and from there bounced up to the satellite. It played out on the small screen in the cockpit of the tank and, here also, the sound could not be fixed. Hod could only see those dreadful pictures. He could not hear what Bash heard, he was unable to contact Ektek and they could not contact him.

            The others knew where he was, of course, and he was supposed to wait there for them. That was his job: get-a-way driver. Only, now, Hod was overcome. He started to shake. He felt hot and cold and shivery all over. He'd had his share of confrontations with dogs, but in his case it had been self-defence; they'd been feral, unwilling to negotiate and trying to eat him when he was on the run in unfamiliar country. He felt responsible for Shining Teeth’s behaviour; that was it. There was a sort of inevitability about her going amok and killing a guard dog with no reason. Of course she would. Was she trying to draw attention to Ektek? What would she do next? And Hod had to ask himself; what would he do next? Oh, what indeed?

            Hod sat in the driver’s seat of the tank and reached for the key to turn on the engine. He moved slowly. He let his paw rest on the key. He turned on the engine and let the revs ride up and down. He listened to the sound of the machine. He took off the handbrake and slowly drove around the cul-de-sac past the car park entrance, past the boom gate, past the university, past the hospital. As he entered the main road he picked up speed.

Hod was running away.


Chapter Four

 

I

Lucy could not contain her grief. She was overpowered by her sense of loss. She howled to the black, clouded sky and her eyes were filled with wet.

            I am sorry, said Gleam—I would have prevented her if I could.

            When she could speak again Lucy stared at the tiger, numb and then spat—Not as sorry as I. She swayed slightly on her feet as she stared again at Mack. When she had recovered again she looked at Gleam and said—You said you came in peace.

            That was our intention, said Gleam.

            You’ve failed. Go away. Lucy looked at him and when he did not move from his place, she shouted—Go away, now!

            —We wish to examine the laboratories.

            —What laboratories?

            —You need not deny their existence. We can hear them.

            It was true. The animals locked up in the lab were still calling. Dogs, pigs, even cats could be heard; shouting, calling out, wondering still what Mack had been on about.

            —I can’t let you in there.

            —We just want to see. Nothing more.

            —Then you’ll leave?

            —Then we’ll leave.

            —What about her?

            —She’ll be with us.

            —And you will prevent her from … ?

            —Yes.

            —Arguing is useless?

            —Yes.

            Lucy turned away from Mack and walked quickly, stiffly, to the entrance of the great mausoleum behind them. When she saw Shining Teeth standing to one side she could not go further. Gleam saw her hesitation and moved to stand between them. The dog rose onto her hind legs and pressed the large button requesting admission. The doors slid open and Shining Teeth slithered inside.

Lucy said—I will not go in with you. I will not be near … her. I cannot say how long before a human gets here. There are random checks. And they are, random.

            —Thank you, said Gleam and he and Bash entered the doorway—We will be quick.

            Lucy said nothing and moved back in the direction of her fallen comrade.

            Gleam, Bash and Shining Teeth now stood in the foyer of a large public building. The tension between them was palpable. Shining Teeth seemed to have no fear but even she was worried what would happen if a human should find them in a place of vivisection. Each creature looked about them with trepidation as they entered. They could easily be entering a trap.

            Gleam shook his head and whispered up to the litter on his head—Bash?

            —Yes?

            —Any reason my head’s wet?

            —Won’t happen again.

            —Good.

            They kept walking, nervously checking as they went through a series of swing doors. Did the doors operate the same way when coming back? (They did.) Who would be there, round the next corner, waiting for them? What would they do to them? It was not a question of IF they would die. They knew that. It was more a question of HOW they would die.

            The floor was a pale lino that might have been green once but had been bleached over the years into a grey white. They breathed a smell of chemicals; perhaps bleach and other, stronger, synthesised cleaners. After they had passed, the path from the swinging door to the sterile facility was streaked by a long, red, bloody wave, swirled into being by a dragging crocodile tail.

            Outside, Lucy stayed for a moment by her dead partner. After a time she realised she could do no good for Mack sitting still beside him. She reached over and kissed his nose, her tongue lingering over the salty blood tang. She would miss him. They had grown up together. Had children together. She lay down beside him, head to head. He was still warm. She whispered—She will pay, Machiavelli. She will pay dearly.

She returned to the shadows by the university main entrance. She picked her position strategically and sat down outside the door of the facility where she had last seen the aggressor. She lay down and put her head between her front paws. She would wait for them. Revenge was necessary. She would see what damage a dog could do to a crocodile when surprised.

 

II

Bash’s camera footage beamed brightly into the computer screen. The change in lighting surprised Antenna and Crawf. From grim, dark and shadowy outside, the live interior footage became luminous. The fluro lights of the university corridors painted a too-white picture in a square, distant perspective with white walls, white ceiling and pale, almost white floor. Antenna and Crawf could see Shining Teeth on the ground, slightly ahead, still leaving bloody streaks in her wake. Occasionally Gleam’s paw or ear or nose came into frame as they walked through the barren corridors, Bash recording from his chair in the palanquin tied to the tiger’s head.

            Antenna snapped to attention and began working. She loaded the video stream into the live web broadcast. She pushed ‘send’ on the waiting email addressed to media, activist groups and politicians. The video captured the march of the long hallway as it went on and on.

            The camera pushed through the swinging doors until it came to a corridor lined with windows. Each window looked into a small room containing lines of cages. Each was lit brightly, each was vibrantly clean and each cage was clearly labelled with a long twisted word; perhaps the name of a drug or chemical of some sort. Each had a series of numbers on it.

            Antenna took a screen shot of each of the cages with clear labels. On the other screen she enlarged the label enough to read the chemical name and then copied those to a folder for further research. She shook her head. There were so many cages.

            Bash's camera revealed the contents of each cage; mice, rats, birds, guinea pigs …

            Guinea pigs, Antenna spoke without thinking.

            —Hullo?

            —Every living thing in this lab is a guinea pig.

            —Sorry?

            —You know guinea pigs? Furry round beings? Used for experiments? But they don’t stop there, do they. Is there a species they don’t use?

            Room after room was filled with cages. Corridors led to further rooms. Different animal faces either turned to the camera or turned away.

            There’s more animals in there than in this zoo. Crawf had had enough. He was overwhelmed by the enormity of it. He went back to his own monitor and quickly became engrossed in his studbook research.

            Antenna watched him for a moment and then turned back to the screen in front of her. Bash’s camera was collecting faces. Some appeared drugged, who knew with what or why. The creatures behaved erratically, some jerkily running from one side of their cage to the other and some lying still, spreadeagled. Some seemed in such pain they seemed insensible, almost blinded by weary anguish. Some literally could not see their visitors for their eyes were closed by infection or bandages. Some could not hear them because they were not conscious. Most could not smell them because they were behind glass. Antenna shook her head and said, even though she knew Bash could not hear her—That’s enough. Get out of there. I can’t watch this any more.

            Antenna turned back to the list of pet shops on the other monitor next to her. She had to concentrate on something else. Just watching the long litany of experiments was turning her blood cold. She turned to look at Crawf, busily pecking letters with his beak and chewed stick, and said—Okay, Crawf. Let’s get you a family.

 

 

III

The barking and shouting died down as the strange trio approached and they were watched, smelled and heard by a multitude of eyes, noses and ears. It was unbearable being the focus of attention like this and Bash said—Can we do nothing?

            —We are doing something, said Gleam—We’re informing.

            After more of this white, clean, gruesome tour and his careful filming, Bash spoke again—We must help them.

            — We cannot interfere, said Gleam—Our only priority is to get out safely so we can explain to the world what we have seen.

            I’ve seen enough, said Shining Teeth—We should leave, now.

            It seems so wrong, said Bash.

            You know these creatures may well be assisting scientists to save hundreds of lives, said Gleam.

            Not animal lives.

            —We don’t know, do we. It might be so. We’ll find out when we get back to Ektek and research our findings. We must not jump to conclusions. Veterinary science has saved many of our friends. Perhaps even those who suffer here …

            A strange, bold voice cried out to them—Oi! You! Over here!

            —What? said Gleam, looking to see where the voice had come from.

            Get over here, come on, I’m not going to eat you.

—As if, sneered Shining Teeth. The Ektek team looked at each other and then approached the voice. Shining Teeth, Gleam and Bash’s camera peered into a cage sitting on the ground containing a straggly shaved creature with wires inserted into it in a distinctly unpleasant manner. Although it seemed to have aspects of a common cat about the face, it was being uncommonly treated. It seemed to have a large hook projecting from its spine—About time! I thought you were ruddy deaf.

—Hullo, friend, said Gleam.

Just tourists? Or is this a hands-on eco-adventure?

—Tourists, I’m afraid, trying to find out what happens in here.

—And we’ve seen enough, said Shining Teeth. She looked around vigilantly. She was in no hurry to meet pro-active scientists on their turf.

The shaved animal spoke urgently—You’d be doing me a big favour if you could just unlock that little latch there and unhook, see that wire there? That’d help me out of here. I’ve got a feeling you might just be saving my life.

—We’ve been here too long, said Shining Teeth—We need to get going.

—Know how you feel, darlin’, said the shaven stranger.

We want to save everyone, of course, said Gleam—But we’re only on a reconnaissance mission and we’re running out of time

—Reconnaissance is useless, replied the shaved one—You could save me right now. Be doing us all a great service.

What if your service is to others? What if the tests they are running on you help many to avoid suffering?

—Listen, mate, do you honestly believe that even if I was saving thousands of lives I’d choose to do this? Nah. I wouldn’t. I’d choose to be lying in the sun with a fat belly and some gorgeous minx giving me the come on. Know what I mean? Why me with the wires? Why not you? Do you really think you’d give a rat’s arse about the others? What about a rat, come to that? Here, why don’t we swap and you could find out?

—I’m sorry, we just can’t, said Bash.

—We’ve got to go, said Shining Teeth—Come on!

Gleam looked at her and nodded. He turned back to the caged creature—I’m sorry, please don’t take this the wrong way but you do seem to be … a cat?

—What’s that got to do with the price of fish?

—It’s just that we’re Ektek …

—Oooooooooh, get you! Ektek is it? Marvellous. Hey, did you hear that? The cat-like creature shouted to the world in general, all those ears that could hear nearby—Youse guys? Did you hear? These here tourists ogling at us? They’re ‘Ektek’! Isn’t that something?

A general yowling and bawling of hilarity ensued and Bash said to Gleam—Why does everyone have to be so sarcastic?

—Gleam, said Shining Teeth—Humans.

—What? Where?

—Here. Any minute. We need to move. Now.

—Now, do tell, said the shaved creature—What’s an Ektek when it’s at home?

Ektek helps endangered animals.

—Well, you’ve come to the right place. We’re all endangered. No one lasts long here. You can bet your sweet crocodile handbag on that, darlin’.

—Come on, said Shining Teeth—We can’t help a cat.

—Why not?

—It’s called assisting the enemy, said Bash.

Enemy? I’m not the enemy here, son. I’m not a cat. Really. What a suggestion. Look at me. Don’t I look like him? What’s your name?

—Gleam.

—Look at cha. You’d be the biggest moggy I’ve clapped eyes on this week, wouldn’t cha? You telling me you’re not a cat?

—I’m a tiger, friend.

Tiger, tiger, burning bright, still a cat, ‘ain’t ‘cha. ‘O'right, if you’re a tiger, then I’m a quokka. I am. Can’t you tell a quokka when you’re looking at one? Us poor quokkas are so endangered, if I go we’ll all be extinct so you’d better save us.

Bash filmed the sign outside the quokka’s cage and muttered to Gleam—Nothing, no name or species on his sign. Just numbers.

—We’ve got to go, said Shining Teeth. She moved restlessly across the floor. She was becoming impatient and Gleam was fully aware that an impatient Shining Teeth was not a generous soul.

The poor shaved creature, literally hooked up and wired into his cage said—Call me Quokka. All me friends do. Don’ cha? He shouted again—You all call me Quokka, right? The other creatures cried out over each other in reply, things like: save me, forget the quokka, of course he’s a cat, are you blind, listen to me, I’m the one, help me, save me …

Ah, don’t listen to them. It’s true, I’m a quokka. They all want to be saved too, you got to understand that, can’t you? Come on, undo the latch, it’s easy and then we can scarper …

—Enough, said Shining Teeth—I’m out.

Gleam called after her—Shining Teeth! Wait!

She didn’t wait. She kept on going—Wait! called Gleam again and then sighed and said in a normal voice—We’re right behind you. Shining Teeth slammed through the first of the doors but, as Gleam turned to go, Bash tapped him on the head.

What? said Gleam, already walking down the hall.

This is a nightmare, Bash sighed and then banged his head on the side of his little carriage—How can they live like this? Please, Gleam, let’s take him, let’s just save one, we can, we’ve got room …

—Bash, you must quell your sentimentality. This is a mere fact-finding expedition. We can’t rescue anybody. We’ve got to make plans, be strategic, and we have to get out after Shining Teeth, you know what she’s like, I don’t want to leave her alone …

—He’s not very big … said Bash.

—Does it have to be the cat?

—But what if he’s telling the truth? What if he is a quokka?

—I am a quokka, he shouted from his cage—There’s no doubt at all in my mind.

—We can’t stand around here arguing while Shining Teeth …

—No. Right. Let’s just get him out.

—Yeah, come on, said the quokka—Get him out.

The volume rose, the creatures that were able to call out, shouted: save me, save me first, no, not him, save me… The desperation was sticky, the noise was guilt-inducing and the pressure to do something, anything to relieve some of this suffering became unbearable.

Gleam sighed—Okay. Let’s go.

Bash was elated and babbled instructions as Gleam reached out his paw to open the cage—You could just unlatch the door and he could jump on your back and we could carry him …

 

 

IV

In the cool blue of the control room, Antenna focussed on the website now displayed on Crawf’s screen. He’d found a chain of pet shops that took orders for any bird the customer might like—Any bird at all? You sure?

            Read for yourself. There. That’s what it says. “We have connections with a wide range of bird breeders and are able to find whatever bird takes your fancy. Name your feathered fantasy!” Huh.

            As well as filling orders on demand, the chain had a number of popular shops where you could get puppies and kittens and guinea pigs and all manner of fluffy little living things, wherever they came from, and there was an address for a warehouse – Pet Met – a building down near the wharf.

            Okay, you’re right, said Antenna—May be worth a look. Let’s get them under surveillance.

            —I’ll go, said Crawf—I could get the wingship ready in half an hour.

            —You can’t go by yourself.

            Hullo? Antenna? Please? I’ve got to do something. I need to move. I can’t sit here and wait to die for one more minute. I need to find my tribe.

            Antenna stared at him for a moment and then said—Okay. Try this. Email the shop and ask if they’ve got any palmeys.

            —What if they say no?

            Antenna thought again and said—What if they say ‘yes’? We’ll think of something.

            Crawf began typing, using his much-chewed stick to press the letters on the keypad. He looked around surreptitiously to make sure Antenna wasn’t reading over his shoulder—I’m just asking if they’ve got any Palm cockatoos and how much they’d be, okay?

            If Antenna had been looking over his shoulder she might have seen that what he was typing did not exactly square with what he was saying. Crawf made no outward sign of his subterfuge. Outwardly he was calm. He had made up his mind. He was in complete control of his future. Instead she said—Maybe ask how long they expect you’d have to wait?

            Even as she spoke, the other monitor feeding Bash’s footage in to the control cave caught her attention. She watched the screen to see Gleam flick his huge claw under a latch on a cage containing a …

            Isn’t that a cat? She asked and Crawf, quickly pushing ‘send’ with his chewed-up stick and glad to have an excuse to change the subject, came to look over her shoulder. He said—Hard to tell with no fur but …

            —Why would they help a cat?

            The numbat and the cockatoo watched as the shaved creature had a quick sip of water from its bubbler bottle and then stretched out to reach the doorway. The wires in his spine pulled at him. He swayed and his eyes went out of focus. Carefully, with his huge yellow claws, Gleam detached the wire from the hook in the quokka-creature’s back. The vertebrae were visible.

            Antenna? said Crawf—Why would scientists need to put a hook through a spine?

            —See how much it weighs? See what happens when you put a hook through a spine? I don’t know. Poor bastard.

            —Antenna? Crawf had returned to focus back on his own screen—They’ve replied already.

            —Already? That was quick.

—Really.

—What do they say?

            —They want to talk about it. Face to face.

            —That’s not going to work, is it.

            —I’m going.

            —Crawf, you can’t …

            —I can. And I will.

            And Crawf stood and walked to the exit of the control centre.

            Antenna watched him go, speechless.

 

 

V

            Stay with us, now, Bash called out—Or we can’t help you.

            The shaved creature shook itself and arduously clambered onto Gleam’s back. It wobbled along the sharp edge of Gleam’s spine and then lay down inelegantly, draped over the peak of the tiger’s back like shaved fleshy saddlebags. Wires and tubes dripped from it like council street decorations.

            The trio would have made an odd sight if anyone had seen them as they proceeded through the hallways of the large university building. They were expecting human intervention at every turn, every footfall, every passing window. Watching intently for signs of doors opening, listening for any squeaking chairs or tapping of keyboards, the tiger marched through the corridors of higher learning as quickly as possible without dropping the shaved thing. As soon as they were out of the main building and into the entranceway, Gleam looked in every direction for Shining Teeth. He did not see her so he called softly into the night—Shining Teeth. When she did arrive out of the darkness she stayed back in the shadows and drawled—You took your time.

            Gleam growled—Where’s the dog?

            Shining Teeth still did not come forward—Probably staying out of our way, if it’s got any sense.

            Gleam waited but Shining Teeth said no more—Wanted to thank her for her help. Thank her for trusting us.

            —Oh, don’t worry about her. She said, Goodnight. She said not to hang around here any longer than was absolutely necessary so we’d better get going. Hod will be wondering what’s happened to us.

            Gleam considered what Shining Teeth was not saying before he agreed with what she did utter—Of course.

            —Let’s get out of here, Shining Teeth turned to lead the way to the nearest exit—Come on.

            Wait. Gleam was sure the dog Lucy would have stayed to see them off the premises. She’d have wanted to know they were gone, doing her duty, wouldn’t she?—No. No, Shining Teeth. Where is she?

            What do you mean?

            —You know exactly what I mean.

            —Sure I do. She’s tucked up in bed holding her breath until she can relax knowing we’re out of here.

            —Holding her breath? Gleam watched the croc, suddenly attentive—Would that have had anything to do with you?

            Shining Teeth may have smiled but no one could see her in the dark. She said—Come on, we’re wasting time.

            —You’ve killed her.

            —I haven’t, you know.

            We could have negotiated with them. They didn’t need to die.

            Shining Teeth swirled round and came into the light from the doorway. They could all see the fresh blood around her snout. She hissed vengeance at the tiger—You are so naïve. They’d seen us. They could identify us. Of course they had to be silenced.

            —Who were they going to tell? Humans don’t listen to dogs.

            —You are putting us in danger every second you stand here mouthing your petty little philosophical theories. I’m leaving even if you want to stay and get experimented on.

            —Bloodshed makes you as bad as them.

            —For agony’s sake. We’re all part of the same life force, right? It’s called a force because it’s forceful. It always ends in death; one hundred per cent of the time. Survival is the only way forward and all your namby pamby compassion for others won’t change a damn thing for anyone.

            —Force of nature and survival of the fittest is only one strand in the entirety of life. Obviously any living being will fight against their own death. All living creatures will choose a gentle evolution if they can.

            —Shut up, you boring old fart, said the crocodile, dangerously impatient again—It’s time to go!

            —Or what? You’ll kill me?

            —Might.

            —I feel sorry for you, Shining Teeth. You must live the loneliest of lives. Always seeking death. One day it will come for you and you cannot win.

            —You’re a fool, Gleam. An agonised fool. I’m going to laugh when you die. Just laugh.

            —Can you take me back to the lab, please? said the quokka-creature—I don’t think I much like this freedom of yours.

            —Show me the dog, said Gleam, standing his ground, determined to find out what the crocodile had done.

            Feeling a bit peckish, are we?

            —What have you done with the dog?

            —Oh, talk about stubborn. You’re never going to give up, are you? Over there, if you must know.

            Gleam lifted his head and smelled in that direction. His ears flickered. He was suddenly alert to a sound. He flashed a glance back to the crocodile and then he ran. Bash was bumped and crashed in his palanquin and the quokka-creature shouted out in alarm as it tried to cling to Gleam’s bony back.

            Soon they could all hear it; a dreadful gargle of pain. Lucy was still alive. When Lucy had ambushed her, Shining Teeth had retaliated. It had been a dreadful fight and she had left the dog for dead. Her intestines were spread out over the grass in a bloody lace curtain. Lucy whimpered and cried. She could not help it. Her throat was severely lacerated and one of her back legs was broken, bent out behind her at a ghastly angle.

            Gleam rushed to her side, Bash bumping along awkwardly in his little hut on the tiger’s head. The shaved creature slid that way and this but managed to hold on. All three animals stared at the partially dismembered dog. It was difficult to assess if a vet could be brought in time and indeed how one could possibly be alerted. Gleam bent down and looked into her wet face—Can you talk? What’s your name?

            She stopped squealing enough to breath—Lucretia. Every breath hurt. Every beat of her pulse splintered her mind. She whimpered again—Please, help me.

            —You’ve got to do something, said Bash.

            I can’t, said Gleam.

            You have to, said Bash.

            Gleam crept as close as he could to her ear—You got kids?

            —Yes, she whispered and panted for air.

            Where are they? Gleam cared for her. He bent his great face to hers.

            —Don’t know, she gasped—The youngest … Training … Now …

            Gleam almost smiled—Going to be a guard, like Mum?

            —Please … gasped the dog.

            —You could do something, said Bash.

            —But she might live, for her kids …  said Gleam.

            —Give her some dignity! cried the shaved creature—Quickly!

            Please … said Bash.

            Please … whispered the dog.

            Gleam closed his eyes and tried to think. All he could hear was the air sucking in and out of the dog’s shredded lungs. Gleam heard ‘life’ on the in breath and ‘death’ as the air whistled out. Life and death; life or death, why was it up to him to choose?

 


Chapter Five

 

I

The electronic information beamed from Bash’s little carriage up to the tank and then to the satellite. It powered back down to Ektek’s centre onto the video display. Antenna and Crawf watched the screen; watched the dying dog in wretched pain; watched the creature twitching and shuddering; watched her bleeding uncontrollably.

            Sometimes the camera caught glimpses of Gleam’s ear or paw but mainly Bash kept the camera on the dog; her restless pain, her beautiful face contorted.

            They watched as Gleam took her up with his long-clawed paws and his powerful forearms. He held her in an embrace, the camera moving in closer to her broken face. He held her tight and her head lolled back and he nuzzled in even closer to her, closer to her neck and he opened his great mouth in a lover’s overwhelming.

The camera's image blurred into a great lashing movement … the image swung, flashed, away and around like a whip …

            Then it refocussed.

            They watched as Gleam held Lucy in his fatal embrace. It was as if he could not let her go.

 

 

 

 

II

This was the second time Hod had gone AWOL. He’d disobeyed direct orders, left his team; and yet, in his beating heart, his flawed vacillating heart, the only home, the only family, the only friends he’d ever known, were Ektek. They forgave him when he returned from his previous childish escapade and they’d allowed him to bring a crocodile into their midst, a crocodile apparently bent on destroying Ektek for some perceived fault in the past; she’d tricked him.

Of course this was all about keeping Ektek’s enemy where they could see her. Only this particular enemy was completely unpredictable. Now the worst had happened and she had killed horribly for no reason at all. Hod was driving aimlessly through the city in the middle of the night because he couldn’t handle the thought of her unnecessary cruelty. He was shocked and dismayed and running out of steam.

            He brought the tank to a halt and parked on the side of a busy road. He leaned his head onto the steering wheel. He knew there was no wilderness for him to run to. He understood it was time for him to grow up. He had to take part in this debacle. He had to attempt to be part of the solution. If things were going to change and Ektek was going to survive, he wanted to be part of the winning team. He reasoned all this to himself and understood that he had no choice.

            He turned the video screen back on and what he saw there, Gleam cradling the lifeless dog (no, was this even a different dog?) and a grinning bloody crocodile, made him take in a deep, stern breath. Then he sat up and turned on the engine. He gunned the machine, making it roar like a tiger and spun the tank across eight lanes of highway, which luckily, given the early hours of the morning, was not busy, and then he roared back the way he came. He had to get back to his post before they saw he’d gone. Maybe, he thought, just maybe he’d even get a chance to run over that flaming croc.

 

 

III

Bash, who had been clinging tightly to the edge of the palanquin on Gleam’s head, whispered—Gleam. Come on, Gleam. We have to go. We’ve got to leave her.

            Shining Teeth, standing a distance away, was also restless, but with agitated glee, shifting with an edgy dance from claw to reptilian claw. She cackled and cackled again.

Her cackling ricocheted high between the tall concrete buildings of the research facility and Gleam felt violated by her reality. He very gently released the destroyed dog and Lucy slid back to the ground like the contents of a cracked egg. Then he rose to stand, majestic. Only, he could not muster himself to confront the crocodile as he would have liked. He tried. He tried to lift his heavy head and he tried to snarl at her but he could not. He was bowed; he couldn’t help the tears overflowing down his magnificent face. He stood, watching Shining Teeth twitching in her malevolent little dance and his wet tears streamed from his dull flame eyes.

            I always knew you had it in you, sniggered Shining Teeth—Once a killer, always a killer.

            Gleam moved away from her. He muttered—Bash, I’ll drop you in with Hod? And this, quokka, or whatever you call it?

            Oi, said the shaved creature—I’m a quokka, I tell you!

            Gleam ignored him. He shook his head and continued to murmur to Bash—I cannot travel in the tank. I’ll find my own way back.

Hey! Fuzz Face! Psycho Killer! Shining Teeth had followed them and, still snickering like some drug-crazed human, said—I’ll see ya back at the zoo whenever! I need some down time – away from you stupid Ektek freaks! She let out a guffaw and she slid away down a drain in the gutter with a cheerful flick of her reptile tail.

Her disappearance seemed to release something in the tiger and he stumbled and slowed to a halt and said with his great shaking head—I can’t go on. As he spoke his head movement extended further into a kind of sway—I’m no good. I’m a liability. He was swaying his head from side to side as if he were trying to shake some sense into himself. He droned on and his voice became deeper and deeper as he seemed to reach down further and further inside himselfYou have to leave me. I’m no good to myself. I’m no good for Ektek. I can’t do anything any more. He sank slowly to the ground and the others couldn’t have been more horrified when he started, gut wrenchingly, to sob.

            The shaved creature slid from the tiger’s back and stood watching the emotion roll from the great beast. He let out a blast of air in a silent whistle and turned to Bash. He said—Now what?

            Bash, still sitting in the palanquin on Gleam’s head, even now shaking with the distress of the tiger, put down his camera at last—I’ll go get Hod. You wait here.

            —No, don’t … said the shaved one but Bash had hopped out of his little carriage, jumped down the side of the tiger, and leapt out of sight in the night gloom before the so-called quokka could even think what to say. That he didn’t want to be left with a sobbing tiger? That he couldn’t walk anyway? That he didn’t know what was going on and he didn’t like it? That he wanted out? What was a Hod anyway? He glared at the crying tiger. What sort of feline behaviour was that?

The strange shaved being, still with wires and tubes hanging out of it, crawled and dragged itself over to the tiger and leapt at him. He shouted—Get up! Get up, you great pathetic thing! He lifted his scrawny shaved arm and struck Gleam on the nose. He unsheathed his claws and scratched him until tiger blood popped out of the sliced skin like tiny red balloons—What the hell are you complaining about? You’re still alive! You did the right thing by her. You don’t give up because you did the right thing! Don’t let that croc beat you without even touching you! Get some spine! And would you look at me? I’m the one with the spine problems here. The shaved creature jumped on Gleam’s head and bit his ear, hard, before whispering—Don’t give up the fight! You’ve got enough power for all of us here. We need you. Please, Gleam or Beam or whoever you are. Don’t give up. Not like this. Get up.

            Then the shaved creature, who was not at all well himself, slid down from Gleam’s leg and, exhausted, lay down on the ground next to the tiger and sighed feeling weak and dreadful. After a while he realised the tiger had stopped sobbing and what’s more, when he looked up, the tiger was staring right at him.

            Wha’choo lookin’ at? said the shaved creature.

            A cat, said Gleam.

            No cat here, tiger.

            What’s your name?

            —Told you. Quokka.

            —Your real name.

            Bluey.

            —Bluey, the cat.

            —That’s Bluey the quokka, to you, cobber!

            —Bluey, said Gleam—I owe you for waking me up here.

—Ah, forget it.

—I know I’ve been weak. I know that. But I also know you to be a cat and I know we’re taking you into a place where there are hundreds of creatures that you will want to eat. You’ve seen that crocodile. You know what uncontrolled instincts are like. I know you do, I recognise you. The only difference between us is that I made a promise not to kill and now I’ve broken it.

            —You can remake it.

            —Doesn’t make it feel any better.

            —That’s just it, isn’t it. You can make a decision to start again. Right now. Accept you’ve made mistakes and then agree you’ll not make them again.

            —Here’s the deal, Bluey. I know you’re a cat and I can see you want a chance to survive.

—Of course I do.

—Right. And you’ll get that chance. But it’s only one chance, Bluey. One chance. If I find you’ve been eating small, endangered creatures in our zoo, then all bets are off. All my promises might just get broken again. I’ll tell Ektek you’re a cat and you’ll have to take the consequences. All I ask is that you curb your most basic animal instincts and find something to eat that isn’t potentially one of the last of its kind on the planet. Do we have a deal?

Bluey looked at the tiger, still wet around his eyes and sighing in that jagged exhausted way with spent tears. He narrowed his eyes and calculated how likely the tiger was to carry through the threat—What’s the big deal about endangered animals anyway?

—Do you want to come with us or not?

—No, tell me. Who cares what lives or dies? What does it matter?

—Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe a planet populated by human beings and their pets and their farmed animals is enough life. They looked at each other for a feline moment before Gleam added—Doesn’t seem fair to me, though.

Engine noise roared and suddenly the tank smashed through the fence. Gleam lifted his head and rolled his eyes—Hod always takes it just that little bit too far. He stood and looked at Bluey—Okay? Shall we go?

—That’s our ride? Okay. I’ll take your chance. Bluey stood and hauled himself toward the tank where Hod had activated the rear ramp so that the injured animals could easily walk into the passenger compartment.

From the direction of the car park where he’d been waiting, Bash came leaping around the corner and jumped through the driver’s door and then up to the console. He shouted at Hod—Where have you been? I went to the stop and you weren’t there.

I’m here now, said Hod.

You telling me you left us in the lurch again?

—I came back, didn’t I?

Bash understood that Hod had no more to say on the subject but Bash hadn’t finished yet. This was potentially very useful information. Bash filed it into his mental filing cabinet under Things To Remember Just in Case.

As he walked toward the tank, Gleam turned back and looked at Lucy’s remains one more time. He bowed his head and moved toward the tank. His head hung heavy as he stepped forward, the fur around his feet painting a trail of blood.


Chapter Six

 

I

Manifold and her team of beetles leaned heavily on a slender metal bar—Heave, shouted Manifold and the team heaved. The bar was part of a cutting implement that was currently biting into a metal ring around a scaly leg. The ring featured Bedlam Zoo’s logo and a series of numbers and letters. It was Crawf’s identity band and he wanted it off.

The beetles pressed down, levering their combined energy along the length of the handle to the sharp edge. Antenna’s paw was keeping the pliers in place and the jaw of cutting teeth slowly edged through the thin band of red-and-silver metal. Finally the plier jaws clenched together, the handles turned over and, as the beetles jumped to safety, they all cheered with relief. The band was severed. Crawf was free.

Crawf used the claws on his other foot to stretch and widen the gap in the band. Together, he and Antenna, with the beetles, managed to manoeuvre the ring away from his leg. It clattered to the ground by the workstation in the hangar. He was now officially a wild bird. He was not aware of any other markings on his body, although some animals had brands or tattoos with their owner’s mark or number, it did not appear that Crawf had suffered the sting of inked needles in his lifetime. He could not remember any and not one little mite on his body could see anything.

Crawf jumped up and did a little dance. The beetles scattered away from his capers, laughing. They dodged his mad ballet and watched him kicking out his legs in front of him to admire their bare beauty—You have no idea how good this feels!

—I hope you know what you’re doing, said Antenna.

—Never been more certain of anything my whole entire life.

The beetles picked up the pliers and dragged them back to their spot in the tool rack. Manifold followed Crawf and Antenna as they commenced the wingship’s pre-flight check.

Although Crawf had to bend as he examined the vehicle’s sub-structure, his feather headdress was up and perky. He moved with purpose and strength checking wings and tyres and fuel. Every now and then he would look down at his newly bare leg and it would give him a shiver of joy. He was determined to get going as soon as it grew lighter and he could see to fly. The colour was back to deep pink in his face patches and he marched tall, with excited energy in his clawed step, that is, until he had to bend under the wing of the plane to check the struts.

Antenna followed him with much less fervour and considerably more anxiety—Crawf, please, she said—Can you wait ‘til they get here?

They were both very tired. It was so late in the night it had become morning.

            —Hullo? You just saw what happened, said Crawf—You think they’ll be in any condition to go anywhere? They’ll need to recover.

            —It’s only surveillance.

            Crawf gasped—Hullo?

            Manifold scurried after them, prepared to assist should there be something practical she could do but when she noticed the temperature rise between them she dodged out of the way. Crawf turned back to face Antenna—Spying’s something best done awake, don’t you think?

            —You’ve waited this long, Crawf.

            —Hullo? Can’t you see? That’s why. That’s exactly the reason I can’t wait any longer. I just can’t. I have to go. Right now.

            As Crawf climbed up onto the landing gear preparing to enter the wingship’s cockpit, Antenna tried yet another tack, anything to slow him down, to get him to reconsider—What if something goes wrong?

            —With what?

            —You’ve been on enough actions. Anything could go wrong. What about the wingship? What then?

            —Oh, if it’ll keep you happy, I’ll fly there under my own steam. I’ve got my own wings. I can use them for once.

            —There’s no need for that!

            With an exasperated sigh, Crawf hopped down from checking the landing gear under the wingship and said to Antenna—Come to that, forget it, I’ll just head out now. See ya. Crawf turned away from Antenna, away from the wingship and walked smartly to the mouth of the hangar, stretching out his huge wings, testing them and warming up. His wingspan measured almost the entire mouth of the cave.

            Crawf! Antenna had to break into a run to catch up with him—Take someone with you! The numbat spun round to check who was handy. Couldn’t be Manifold ‘cause she was needed there—Manifold? Can you please send for Spark?

            Yup, at once, Manifold buzzed off.

            Crawf stopped and turned back—You’ll let me have the wingship?

            Antenna nodded and quickly continued—But this is only surveillance, right? We’re just gathering intelligence. We’re not going to rush into any hasty actions, like rescuing a cat or anything, right?

            —Even if there’s an opportunity?

            Antenna’s voice rose as she tried to explain the need for caution, which seemed so obvious to her—Everything we do that’s rushed gets us into trouble and we’re in enough trouble already, don’t you think? We have to take the time to research.

            —What if we don’t have time?

            —Crawf. You saw that stuff on the internet; we’re talking about people who move illicit material through illegal channels here: drugs, pornography, weapons, slaves, wildlife – it’s all the same to them. They’re just smugglers dealing with the contraband of the day. Such large sums of money are involved; such an essential need for secrecy, it’s a matter of life and death. Crawf, she spoke clearly now, emphasising the words—I don’t want to lose you.

            Crawf stared at Antenna for a moment before he spoke—What do you mean? Obviously, it’s a matter of life and death for the smuggled birds …

            —As well as birds; it’s lives, liberty and in the case of humans, fortunes. They’re different from us. They’re prepared to risk their freedom for the sake of their bank accounts.

            —I’ve got to go, Antenna. Crawf made his way back to the wingship and climbed up into the cockpit, Antenna still shouting instructions as he went—Remember, this is only basic reconnaissance, Crawf. I want you and the wingship back here, safe, before noon, okay? They’ll notice if you’re not here for the whole day. When Bash gets back, I’ll get him to rest and then you can both go out again tonight. Antenna tailed off, aware that Crawf was going and there was nothing she could do to stop him—I wish I could come with you.

            In the wingship, Crawf was now busy with the control panel and getting comfortable on his perch—But you can’t, he muttered.

            What? said Antenna.

            Hi Crawf, said Spark as he flew through the window shining like a spangly bullet specially designed for use in nightclubs.

            Hullo, said Crawf.

Outside, down on the Ektek version of tarmac, Manifold commenced taxiing procedures—All clear above and astern …

            The wingship headed out of the hangar and proceeded along toward the road where they would get to a reasonable speed in order to lift into the air. Soon, uneventfully, the wingship was successfully airborne and they were travelling over the city lights toward the wharf.

            What’s everyone staring at? Antenna turned to Manifold and the beetle crew and shouted—We’ve got work to do!

 

II

A chunky black beetle flew into the hangar and shouted—They’re coming! The waiting collection of animals assembled by the entry, waiting for the tank to arrive. This group was prepared to take care of the Ektek activist team when they arrived back on Bedlam soil. As well as the team of beetles, a koala and a tiger quoll waited beside Antenna as the tank rolled into the parking place in the hangar. Gumfluff was captain of the Ektek boat, Intek. Carney, a tiger quoll, was her ship’s mate. Both were onshore now to help Antenna when the activists, presumably shocked and exhausted, climbed out of the tank.

Gumfluff and Carney took hold of Gleam, slumped in the rear of the tank, and walked him gently to his cage. He lived in a space off the hangar, the machine cage, purpose built to keep machinery work away from dust, now his own private bedroom stocked with food and water. He sank into his bedding, slumped his head back and lay still. Gumfluff and Carney looked at each other and went quietly away.

            A team of beetles lifted and carried Bash away to the frog-quarium. Antenna directed Bluey to lie on the mini hovercraft, which she and Hod moved to the control centre and her own nest. Once they had made sure he was comfortable they left him to rest. He fell asleep almost immediately.

Antenna walked Hod outside to the tunnel leading to his enclosure and said—As for that cat, he puts one paw wrong …

—Isn’t he a quokka?

—He’s having you on.

—He’s too sick to do anything …

—He’ll get better. They’ve got nine lives.

—Unless he’s a quokka?

—If he’s a quokka I’ll eat Gleam’s hat.

—Only going on what he said.

—You can’t believe what they say, Hod.

—I’ll be careful.

            —Good. What about her? Where is she?

            —Gone.

            —For good?

            Hod didn’t know how to answer. He swallowed and waved his arms around helplessly.

            —What if she comes back? Antenna stared at him—What then? How are you going to control her?

            —Me?

            —Who else? You brought her here, Hod.

—I thought she was coping …

—She can’t stay.

—She’s not here now.

—If she comes back I want to know everything she does. Everything. And I want you to tell her she’s not welcome.

—Me?

—You’re not that obtuse. Just get rid of her. We can’t work with her.

—Anti. What can I do? She’s a croc!

—Should have thought of that before you brought her here, then, shouldn’t you.

 

 

III

Crawf pushed one of his feet forward and lifted a lever in the cockpit of the wingship. He pointed his claw, pushed a yellow button and the wingship levelled out. He established radio contact with Antenna and heard her report on the tank’s safe return and that there was no sign of Shining Teeth. There was nothing he could do from here, on his way to the wharf area, so he said—All clear above and astern. Over.

            Roger. Stay safe, Crawf. Spark, keep your eyes open. Over.

            Listening to the slightly strange tone in Antenna’s voice, Spark wondered what he’d got himself into. He looked over to Crawf, grimly operating the controls and staring hard through the windscreen, apparently looking ahead at something Spark couldn’t quite see.

            Crawf? After a while of waiting for a reply that never came, Spark realised Crawf wasn’t really in the mood for small talk, well, any talk really, and instead, he crawled up to stare ahead out of the windscreen as the wingship approached the main city wharf area. It was not difficult to find the large Pet Met Warehouse in the docklands and they circled it, flying in closer and closer as they went around. Crawf noticed the two entrances and then came in closer still over the roof.

            What now? asked Spark, but Crawf had no reply. Spark shook his head and couldn’t help but feel frustrated—Crawf? You going to ignore me the whole way?

            —I’m thinking.

            With that, and Spark didn’t think it was nearly enough but knew it would have to do, Crawf began to bring the wingship down onto the roof.

            —You have to be kidding? No? You’re not kidding. Well, at least tell Antenna you’re landing. Crawf? Come on. You have to let Antenna know what you’re doing. Don’t you?

            Crawf didn’t even seem to hear Spark. He turned off the engine and started to climb out of the window. Spark really did begin to panic—Crawf! What are you doing? Crawf! You can’t!

            Crawf had.

            Spark quickly flew out of the window and down to follow Crawf, as he explored the roof, looking for surveillance vantage points. An overhanging veranda above the doorway blocked his view and Crawf became increasingly frustrated that he couldn’t see into the building from this angle. There appeared to be a shop front there with billboards advertising pet-food and bones and toys and bedding … Pet Met was indeed a barn of a place.

            Crawf? As he followed the Palm cockatoo, the beetle kept trying to establish a connection, any connection—Crawf? You got to tell Antenna what you’re doing. Crawf? Talk to me?

            Finally, after some exasperated mutterings under his beak, Crawf lost his patience and snapped—Shut up and let me get on with it.

            Spark stepped back and watched as Crawf continued his exploration across the roof. Eventually Crawf found a loose covering over the air-conditioning system and carefully crawled into the ducting. Poor Spark followed him and, in bizarre single-file, they crept into the building itself.

            When Crawf came to a grate overlooking the shopping barn, he looked down and noticed a man pacing up and down in the aisle of the shop. From above, through the grid, Crawf watched him walk. The man had a bald head, a half moon of bushy brown hair over his top lip and he wore a shiny blue tracksuit that made him look like a bluebottle jellyfish.

            Presumably this was the man that Crawf had emailed. Presumably this was the man that expected to buy and sell a Palm cockatoo for a large profit. This was the man that Crawf had set up to meet.

            Crawf watched him, pacing, up and down, waiting for someone who would never show up. Well, that was if he was expecting a human. Crawf knew the man could hardly expect a Palm cockatoo and yet that was exactly the bird's plan.

            Spark did his own pacing, up and down in the duct, beside the still silent grey cockatoo, every now and then flicking the bird a look. What the hell was going on? Why wasn’t Crawf talking to him? He was supposed to be his partner after all. How could he best help Crawf and keep out of trouble? Should he be here at all?

            Crawf let fly a poop through the grate. It landed on top of a cage some metres below and not very far from the man. Spark looked at the cockatoo. Did he know what would happen if that had landed on the bald man’s pate? Not only that, but now (oh, what now?) Crawf was busy unscrewing the grate from the duct with his claws. It was an arduous business. The screws were positioned all around the grate. He took out each screw separately. When each screw was nearly out, Crawf carefully grasped it in his beak and spun around it as though he were taking it for a dance. He turned and lifted until the screw came out in his beak and he quietly laid it to one side. Then he unscrewed the next one.

            At one stage the hairy-lipped man glanced upwards – did he hear the turning of the screw? Spark held up his front leg in the international sign to HALT but Crawf took no heed, just kept walking around the screw with his head tilted over to one side and the Philip’s head screw firmly in his beak. Luckily the man appeared not to notice anything amiss from the ground. He lost interest and wandered off to check on the front door.

            Spark sighed with relief. He settled back to watch Crawf’s circles with resignation. This was not teamwork. There was no point to him being here. It didn’t seem to matter what he said or did, Crawf was going to do precisely what he wanted to do. All Spark could do was wait for the plan to be revealed. He could see perfectly well it would be too late for him to do anything about it, of course.

 

When Crawf had seen the rows of cages in the warehouse, he couldn’t help himself. He had to get down and examine each one to see if they contained a Palm cockatoo. He couldn’t take the time to explain to the beetle because, right now, he was a bird of action and he was sick of talking and he didn’t want to argue with anyone and he had to concentrate because he had a hollow beak and it needed to be treated with respect when being used as a screwdriver. The last screw finally twisted out and Crawf shook himself into a less dizzy state of mind before he managed to pry up the grate using his own claws and fragile beak.

            Watch out, Crawf, Spark sprang forwards and hissed—Watch for the man.

            Crawf tilted his head and considered the Christmas beetle with one black, beady, shiny eye. Wasn’t it obvious? He was already watching the man and when the human blue bottle had progressed in his pacing to the other side of the barn, Crawf finally managed to lift the grate away from the opening and drop into the store itself.

            He flew through the shop checking out each cage. None held a Palm cockatoo although there were almost as many birds there as back in the zoo aviary. Over in the next aisles there were dogs, cats, rabbits, mice and guinea pigs – where ever did they all came from, he wondered. Some kind of pet breeding centre? Along the wall fish tanks glowed in unnatural colours, as though from acid plumes deep under the ocean. A line of reptile tanks radiated under red heat lamps.

Crawf's huge wings stirred the muggy air as he fluttered up and down in the glare of the fluros and the garish colour of the animal toys and the hard steel of the cages; feathered, real, alive and free.

            The bald human bluebottle with the hairy top lip felt the air shift over his head and he looked up like a startled fur seal. He yipped some of that strange human gibberish out loud and moved quickly to follow the bird. He grabbed a handful of seed out of an open packet and eventually, inevitably, Crawf appeared to succumb to temptation and land on the man’s outstretched arm like a pet budgie. Crawf was well and truly caught. The man handled him gently but it was firm management. It was only a matter of moments before the cage door clanged behind him. The man in the shiny tracksuit looked perturbed, shook his head and stared at Crawf making some smooth talking and admiring guttural sounds with his big hairy mouth. Then he left and turned out the lights on his way out.

            Spark waited until the outside door was locked before he flew down to Crawf’s cage. He landed on the latch, saw there was no way he could open it by himself and flew over to speak to Crawf from the outside of the wire—Why did you let him catch you? Crawf was still in his ignoring-the-beetle frame of mind, obviously. Spark heaved a sigh of frustration and climbed right inside the cage to whisper in the bird’s ear—You let him catch you. I saw you. What are you playing at?

            Had to. Have to find my brother or someone of my family or even just one other of my species before I die.

            —How do you expect to get the wingship back to Ektek?

            —It’ll be all right where it is.

            —I’ll have to go back and tell them.

            —Yes, tell them. And, Spark, tell them not to worry.

            —Oh, that will make all the difference, Crawf. Good luck. Hope you know what you’re doing.

            —Never been more certain.

            Spark climbed out of the cage and flew up to the vent. He turned back to look over the edge of the duct at Crawf, stuck in a cage far too small for him. His headdress was still perky as he dipped his beak into some birdseed. He looked up at Spark and nodded, as if to say, 'it’s all going to be all right, Sparkie. Don’t fret.' He even opened and shut one eyelid in a gesture that made him look revolting, like a jolly feathered human being. What was that? Winking? Disgusting.

            Spark shook his head, tut tutted and crawled through the duct. He climbed out onto the roof and took a fluttering jump or two. He felt duped, as though Crawf had made a joker out of him. He glanced over at the parked wingship in the shade of the lift-well and sighed. He turned and looked out over the enormous expanse of fading city lights. The electric lights were dimming in the face of a red dawn in the east. The sun was rising yet again.

            Then Spark jumped off the roof.

 


Chapter Seven

 

I

The shaved creature called Bluey slept. He lay curled in Antenna’s nest of bark. He was a messy, motley scruffy thing. His shaved hair had started to grow back and the scar on his spine was starting to fade to pale pink. He slept with one eye open and appeared to be watching everything but in fact it was a strange kind of war wound, a slash across his face that had caused damage to his eyelid. However, there was nothing to watch in the control room when he did eventually wake. The shaved creature was alone.

            He stood, shook himself and tried to stretch, began to arch his sore spine upwards but, finding it uncomfortable, growled a little bit under his breath with the pain. He looked around at his surroundings to distract himself. Gleam had offered to share the food ‘borrowed’ from the zoo’s resident big cats so a small heap of raw red flesh had been provided next to the paper bark nest, together with a curved leaf full of water.

            The creature stepped out of the nest placing each paw deliberately. He tested himself as he moved. He was stiff but he could feel his strength returning. He could feel the muscles in his forelimbs and those in his haunches. When he had four paws on the floor of the cave he stretched again. He arched carefully, testing for twinges as he moved. He pushed his weight evenly onto each paw and delighted in aligning his bones, tendons and cartilages to the very tip of his scabby tail. This he shook as if he were a rattle snake, shimmering and delicate, reminding him of the concentration of the hunt, his innate hunter. Then he attended to the meat and ate until he was full.

            The creature was in no rush and he sat, thrusting one leg sky high for his toilet. There was plenty of time for inspection and grooming and his tongue set to work, soothing and patting down those bruises from needles, and scars from clamps. There was no denying it, the shaved creature was thrilled to be out of that lab; he was finding his way back into his body and was just about to resume normal operations. He sat back on his haunches and considered his options. First, he’d have to work out how best to repay the kindness of his rescuers, of course. What could Bluey do for Ektek on this day, he wondered. The shaved creature got to his feet. It was time to do a little exploring.

 

 

II

Around the corner from the main hangar, Gleam lay unmoving in the machine cage. His head was still and heavy on his paws. His exotic striped fur made strange contrast with the surrounding dull rock and metal.

Antenna was cautious as she approached him. She had left him to rest for a good long while, hoping he would be able to regain his strength and assuming he would need time to process what had happened to him. She looked at him. Was he asleep? She could not see him breathing. She whispered—Gleam? She stood and watched him. She was scared he might be dead. She didn’t want to do or say anything in case her fears were true. She held her own breath until she was almost overwhelmed by relief when she saw his ribs moving slightly. She could not imagine how he must be feeling.

            With his great head immobile, Gleam stared with hard eyes at the rock wall. He struggled with the memory of Shining Teeth’s power and her awful disregard for life. He struggled with his need to forgive her. He couldn’t yet find the strength to do that. He was filled with anguish for the wasted lives of those two dogs. He considered them to have been proud warriors, lost at the peak of their powers, killed by a monster who did not care for any other living creature great or small, other than what they could offer her; food, shelter, entertainment, it was all the same to that damned croc.

Antenna coughed.

            Gleam shifted and she cleared her throat—Gleam? It’s me, Antenna.

            Gleam sighed. He was reluctant to communicate with anyone but he made an exception for Antenna. He said—You know what the worst thing was?

            —What?

            —The blood. Gleam seemed to be in the grip of a nightmare. He spoke as if under a spell—Her blood. He appeared captivated by memory—The smell. Like any hunter he relived the kill—Flesh. Her flesh. Her meat. Only, in his mind, he was no hunter, but murderer. Guilt pulsed through his being like the very blood that had so compelled him.

            Yes, of course.

            —The smell was so fresh. I could taste it, and Gleam was overwhelmed by a sensory flashback. He could see it, he could feel it and he savoured that blood in his recollection. He focused on what it looked like in his mind and his taste buds ran rampant and the remembered red-velvet warmth poured clots through his gullet. His thoughts were far away from the machine cage where he huddled now—The sensation of her leaving the body; I could feel her departure, once vibrant living creature. Then she was just empty; still, empty meat. Bloody, fresh meat and I could not … eat it … Her, I mean. I could not eat her. How could I? The tiger’s deep-set eyes filled with tears and, as he struggled to bring his emotions under control, he tilted his head so the tears would not run down his face and betray him. In vain.

            Antenna sat up on her hindquarters and watched him curiously. His surge of instinct did not surprise her. Why should it? She too ate the zoo’s pre-prepared anteater custard to avoid eating the very creatures (ants and termites) that built the foundations of Ektek. Ants were literally the life-blood of Ektek and Antenna could not eat them. It would be beyond the pale. It had always been a struggle, and there had been unfortunate incidents, notably when she and her best friend, Min, had been young and foolish but, mostly, she was in control. It was a matter of self-knowledge, after all.

            Neither Gleam nor Antenna were inmates of Bedlam Zoo. They were both outlaws hiding out in the tunnels beneath it. They stole food – or rather the ants and beetles ‘borrowed’ food for them – as they worked for an animal organisation that extended all over the world; Ektek.

            Antenna saw Gleam’s sacrifice as entirely matter-of-fact and said so—You wanted to eat her. There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, thinking about it, it might have been sensible to bring both dogs back with you.

            What? said Gleam—That’s deplorable.

            Gleam, be practical. You don’t get much fresh meat. You’re probably malnourished. That’s partly why you’re so overcome with emotion now.

            —I promised.

            —Who?

            —My keeper.

            —After you’d killed him?

            —Yes. Yes. See? I was ashamed. I promised him I would never kill again and I have never …

            —Would you have had that dog suffer more?

            —I couldn’t bear it. It was selfish.

            —Selfish?

            —Because of my own distress, I chose the easy way out. Who knows how much longer she would have lived?

            —From what Bash told me, and from what we saw here, she had no chance at all.

            —I can’t stay here.

            Antenna looked at the larger beast and considered her words before she spoke. She felt they needed to be said, however, so she proceeded—I never took you for the self-pitying kind, Gleam. If anyone had asked me I would have said, Gleam? Selfish? No way. He always thinks of others before himself. Now, we need to know more about this particular lab, for instance. We’ve got all this footage and information to research. There’s also the small matter of Bluey. What about him? I’m still waiting for Crawf and Spark to return – they’re both late – and I really need your help. I can’t do this by myself.

            —I can’t work with …

            —Did you ever think she set you up?

            —What?

            —Perhaps she wanted to make you kill. So, having broken your oath, you would feel compromised.

            —Shining Teeth? Do you really think she would be so heinous?

            —You’re the only one who can stop her.

            —No. I can’t.

            —Maybe now you’ve broken the promise it wouldn’t seem so bad?

            —Antenna. You ask too much …

            —I was just thinking out loud but, when you think about it, after what she did to you

            —Antenna, you can’t possibly agree with your own suggestion. If she’s judged by her peers to be so evil that she must be removed from society then that is what must happen. We can imprison her; try to rehabilitate her. But Antenna, I will not kill her. She’s part of the fabric of this planet’s life. Every part of the web is necessary, particularly we large predators …

            —Hard to manage sometimes.

            —Yes.

            —No one can cope alone. We need to get everyone together so we can work out what to do. Come on. Get up. Don’t give up. There’s work to do.

            Gleam looked at Antenna. She waited, not willing to let him go. He finally nodded in agreement. There would be no more thoughts of leaving Ektek. He was part of the organisation. He was not alone any more. He slowly raised himself to his feet. Together they walked out of the control room.

 

 

III

In the computer control centre, Bash ran on a small track-ball, staring, deep in his own obsession, at a computer screen. As he ran, he was manipulating a virtual beetle running in long grass trying to avoid a spider. The beetle was able to spit some kind of foul poison at various flying insects apparently attacking it. When it hit the flying insects the poison caused them to explode in an entirely satisfactory, bloody kind of way, across the screen. Splatter followed splatter after splatter and Bash was completely spellbound as he ran and dodged and clicked and spasmed with the splatters in the game.

            Antenna entered the control cave, closely followed by Gleam. When Gleam saw what Bash was doing he straightened his tiger frame. He could not believe his eyes. No sooner had they returned from cruel devastation in the university grounds than Bash had lost his sense of reality in the dream world of violent video games. He could do nothing about Shining Teeth but he could deal with a teeny little frog all right.

            How could you? roared Gleam—Have you no compassion?

            Bash ignored him and continued to run, oblivious to the tiger’s howl.

            We’ve come straight from murder and you choose more death? Gleam came close to Bash now, incensed by the frog’s indifference—How can you keep pulling that trigger when so many deaths are surrounding you in real life?

            Bash glanced at him but returned his attention to the screen almost immediately—Not the same.

            It is the same.

            Antenna watched the exchange in increasing discomfort—Gleam, perhaps Bash is trying to escape the pain of what he’s witnessed.

            By more killing? said Gleam, hardly looking at her as he tried to follow Bash’s on-screen activity.

            Don’t worry, Gleam, said Bash—‘s’not real. They’re just computer simulations.

            —Are they not shaped as live beings?

            —Guess so.

            —Do they not bleed?

            —Aw, well, red pixels come out of them ...

            —Are you not inflamed by excitement; intent on further bloodshed?

            —It’s a game, Gleam. I pull the trigger and I get a result. That’s what games are for …

            —But you happen to like the games where the life form explodes.

            —Chill, Gleam. It’s just a game.

            —It’s so much more than a game. How would you like to play a game where the response to your action is something other than red splatter? Perhaps little stars or a puff of smoke comes from imaginary broken bottles. Not the same, is it?

            —Ah … S’pose not.

            —So it is the idea of blood, of death, that stirs you up and gets you going, doesn’t it. Here, I'll get you going … and Gleam grabbed the little frog up in his mouth.

Bash screamed!

Gleam picked him up and carried him away, Bash yelling the whole time.

            Antenna was taken by surprise and could only watch as Gleam carried Bash out of the control centre. She quickly scrambled to her feet and followed.

            No! Bash clung to the tiger’s slimy teeth, screaming—Put me down! You big bully! You’ll crush me!

            Gleam kept marching until they got to the hangar. He spat the tiny frog out onto the ground next to the little plane jettisoned by Crawf earlier—You were there. You saw the disgusting mess that Shining Teeth made of that dog ...

            —That’s not fair! I hated that!

            —I hate what you’re doing.

            Antenna followed Gleam into the hangar, worried that he might hurt Bash and, seeing that Bash was still holding his own, kept her own counsel.

            Those already in the hangar were astounded to see the tiger spit out the noisy frog. Manifold and Torque were in the midst of talking to a large group of number beetles about potential work as mechanics. Manifold’s trained team of worker beetles let their tools rest as they all stared, their little beetle mouths open at the confrontation.

            Eid, who had been piecing together the airship’s skin in another area of the hangar, faded back into the shadows, not wanting to be noticed by Antenna. He was supposed to be on duty in the numbat enclosure and he really didn’t want to have to undergo another lecture. He watched her, though. He rarely got a chance to observe her unnoticed and he scrutinised her as though she were the only creature there.

            Antenna must have somehow felt his attention because she swung round to look in his direction but he managed to dodge back unseen. She didn’t know what had caused her to look in that corner and made a mental note to check there later. Right now, her attention was taken up by Bash and Gleam.

Whoever was in that hangar was stunned by this unlikely argument between the tiger and the frog. Everyone watched to see what would happen next, which was, simply, that the frog went hopping mad.

            Bash leapt and bounded around Gleam, shouting at him—You’re as bad as Shining Teeth! How could you! Would you look at the size of you? There was no need to get physical!

            Gleam’s eyes suddenly lost their ardour as he realised what he’d done—You’re right. I’m sorry, Bash. I acted like a bully.

            —You did!

            Gleam was on the threshold of an epiphany and lowered his eyes. He was deep in thought. He was no longer paying any attention to the frog or even to his surroundings—I do have something in common with Shining Teeth after all.

            I’m just a little frog!

            Antenna did step forward then and said to Bash—Gleam has apologised, Bash.

            —Apologies aren’t enough, stamped the little frog.

No. What would be enough, I wonder? said Gleam as he thought about reparation for his impulsive aggression toward Bash. Gleam looked around at all the beetles now standing with Torque and Manifold, waiting to become mechanics and selected one—You, beetle, yes, you, small one with the orange-and-black elytra. What’s your name?

            —You mean me, sir?

            —Yes, you sir.

            —Niti. I’m Niti, sir. Niti had short legs and little bulbs on the end of his squat antennae. He was suddenly removed from the patient waiting to which he had become rather accustomed and thrust into the full glare of the limelight. He looked around at all the other beetles, swallowed his nerves and stood up straight as Gleam questioned him—Niti, eh. Are you from around here?

            —No, I’m a number. I’m 472. Waiting, with everyone else (he indicated all the other beetles standing with Torque) to tell my story. If I get a chance, that is.

            What? All of you are numbers?

            —Yes, sir. We’re waiting to see someone from Ektek.

            —Well, today’s your lucky day. Go on. Tell him.  Tell Bash here.

            Niti looked to Bash and then back up at Gleam—Now, sir?

            —Yes, now and stop calling me sir.

            —But, sir, I don’t think it’s my turn …

            —Never mind that now. Get on with it.

            Niti bowed, moved closer to Bash and began his honey-bee adapted dance of fact and direction. Bash moved to join him and copied every move faithfully. Soon they were moving in a graceful pas de deux, creating a figure of eight with tremulous bows in the directions of sun and north and west. Bash, with his shiny black-and-gold frog skin, and Niti, with his black-and-red beetle elytra, together made a striking couple dancing gravely on the hangar floor.

            Gleam watched them impassively. Antenna also watched in silence as Bash bowed to Niti and turned back to Gleam to report—It’s feral camels. They’re worried. They’ve got no water. They’re forced into human villages by their thirst and can’t help blundering into human property as they search. Most of them can’t read, poor things. They wish no harm. They don’t mean to be destructive. It’s just that they’re so thirsty. They need to find a better place to live.

            Gleam nodded and said—Get on with it, then.

            —What? said Bash—You want me to head out there? Into the desert? By myself? What can I do about it?

            —You can reconnoitre, can’t you? Report back. Get going.

            —I can’t! I need Crawf to fire off the mini plane from the air …

            —Crawf? Well? Where’s he? Get him organised.

            Antenna stepped up to Gleam and muttered that Crawf was still out on an action. She hoped he’d be back any minute but she hadn’t heard a word since they’d gone. She didn’t elaborate to Gleam and the others just how worried she really was about Crawf. Eid saw it though. He wished he could help her but he knew she must never begin to suspect he was even there.

            Gleam sighed with irritation and turned to the bombardier beetle—Manifold? Any way we can launch this plane from the ground?

            Manifold thought for a moment—We could, maybe, set the plane at the mouth of the hangar and launch it using the mag-lev tracks we salvaged from the airship.

            —Do it. Let’s go.

            The beetle mechanics, the ones that knew what they were supposed to be doing, ran to the small plane and commenced their pre-flight inspections. The new beetles ran around in circles for a bit until Torque quietened them down and they settled, lining the walls of the hangar, watching to see if they could learn anything.

            Bash tightened his lips. He looked over to Antenna—Do I have to?

            No, she said.

            Bash let a little smile grow in the corner of his mouth before he glanced over at Gleam but Antenna hadn’t quite finished—But what else are you going to do? You can’t live your entire life through video games, Bash. Go ahead, get on board. You might be able to help someone.

            Bash looked at her momentarily, hoping the argument might have another loophole but before he could think of something Gleam broke into the conversation.

            —Time to get out in the real world, Taddy. See what’s really going on—Gleam thought for a moment, shook his head and continued—Let me put that a bit more succinctly, shall I, Bash? Time for you to grow up.

            As Bash made himself ready, sullen and silent in his little cockpit, Manifold took over directing operations with her beetle crew. The little plane lined up on the mag-lev track and commenced lift-off procedure.

            Antenna watched Bash roll out to the launching area before she turned and, apparently without purpose, wandered back into the shadows of the hangar. She looked at the airship skin and sniffed the air. She could have sworn she saw … No, perhaps not. She turned away and went back toward the control centre. When he was sure she’d gone, Eid stepped forward from the darkness where he’d been hiding. He looked after her and sighed, just a little sigh that, had she heard it, might have melted the sternest numbat’s heart. Antenna did not hear anything except the clash of metal on metal and the squeak of mechanic beetle lift-off jargon—All clear above and astern …

            All right then, now he’s gone, Gleam turned to the number beetles and said—Torque? Do you want to introduce me to your friends?

            —What? Oh, them. Torque snapped to attention and shouted—Collies! Attention! Form an orderly queue, in number order, please. This is it, your big opportunity. You’ll all get a chance to talk, Torque flashed Gleam a questioning look, hoping this was indeed the case. The tiger nodded; he would hear them all no matter how long it took.

            A great excitement rose in the beetle ranks. They did know their order and managed to scramble into position ready to speak in honest turn to Gleam.

            Gleam watched this operation with growing concern. No wonder Torque had been pestering them. How many beetles were here? How on earth could Ektek deal with this many problems?

 

 

IV

The shaved creature had been busy wandering through the Ektek world; exploring tunnels and hallways that led from the hangar and to the different enclosures in the Bedlam Zoo. Knowing no different, he strolled from the hangar out into the surrounding bushland. This was freedom and he walked with stiff legs, happy to be outside, breathing the warm air. He found a patch of slanting sunshine and sat upright, his ears flicking around him. He relaxed and, with some spine discomfort, lay down in the dappled sunshine. His tail twitched as an ant ran over him. He melted into the ground, feeling his cells healing and the stench of laboratory chemicals being cleaned from his nostrils.

            Lazily he began again to clean himself with his pale pink tongue, initially as he lay, working down his shoulder. Then he carefully sat up and worked down his front. Suddenly he caught a flicker of movement through the eye that could never close and he looked up and froze like a statue.

            A small lizard edged out into the sunny aspect and lifted its head to see what the world offered that morning. Quick as a wink, the shaved creature pounced, jumping a curving metre with no trouble at all. The lizard hung from the shaved creature’s mouth and shrieked as it felt teeth.

            Torque, halfway up a small gum tree above the sunny clearing, shook his head and signed to the beetles behind him to be silent.

Niti didn’t hear him—So, Mr Torque? I am worried, now that I have imparted my number’s message, that I must leave?

            Shhh, said Torque. Then, as he processed the question, Torque looked at Niti and wondered what he meant—Sorry?

            Am I to be allowed to stay with you and learn to work with Ektek? said Niti.

            Ah, said Torque—I don’t see why not. But now is not exactly the time to chat about that. Can you see what I’m looking at here? 

Niti smiled with relief, bowed and fell back into line with the others. The beetles that had indicated their interest in staying to train as mechanics had seen the work, listened to an introductory talk from Manifold, given their story to Gleam and were now hanging on Torque’s every word as he gave them a tour; showing them everything that Ektek had managed to create in order to assist animals over the last few years.

The talk had been interrupted however, when Torque saw Bluey attack a smaller creature. Torque had heard about the rescue of the ‘quokka’. He knew what he’d just witnessed and he knew he’d have to warn Ektek. That shaved creature lounging in the sun just by the entrance to the hangar was dangerous. Seriously dangerous. He turned back to his beetle class—You see that animal there? Eating a poor little lizard? That’s a cat, my friends, and it’s more than my job’s worth to have a cat anywhere near any of us. You stay well away from it. We’d best go and report it. Come along, stick together, look lively there!

 


Chapter Eight

 

I

Comfortable and concentrating hard in his little plane, Bash flew out in great curves across the desert land. He knew exactly where to go, thanks to Niti’s danced instructions, and Bash played the horizon like one of his games. Colours ranging from dust beige through ochre, orange, yellow and pink grew into mounds and outcrops dusted with puffy green trees on thin line stalks.

            The skin of the land was criss-crossed by etched lines, roads shimmering in the sun. He squinted his eyes into the sun searching for those so-called ships of the desert: camels. Where were they?

            Finally he saw movement among the shadows and trees. Was it a rock? No, it did move and there, there was his first camel. It walked on long thin legs between the stems of stick trees. The creature seemed gigantic to Bash who was a mere frog in a miniscule plane, zitting around like a robot insect in the air.

            He became aware of a change in atmosphere. A rackety roaring noise thundered some distance away. Could he be flying into a storm? He cast his eyes to the sky and saw no clouds. He continued to search the ground, concerned with the origin of the sound.

            Then he saw the rest of them; a host of camels strutting out across the land. They were proud beasts the colour of desert and the size of trees, even the young ones. They moved with a swaying grace that seemed to power them forwards – each easy leaning footfall as deliberate and equally weighted as the next. They were hypnotic in their smooth, continual tread onwards, onwards through the trees.

            They had enormous heads that bounced when they hit the ground. Dust rose up around them as they crashed into the dirt. What? Another fell? Those that could move broke into loping runs. They were running, running, into the dust and bodies of other camels and toppling, collapsing, dropping …

Why were the camels falling like this? Bash realised that, as far as he could see and everywhere he looked camels plummeted to the dirt and they could not get up. The ground became red with blood and the survivors were running, running, pell mell, this way and that …

            He was not the only thing flying in the air that afternoon. An occasional bird and perhaps those bushflies counted, but the real objects of interest to him were two roaring helicopters and everywhere the helicopters went travelled too the sound of death.

            Loud reports cracked again and again from the whirling dervishes. Mostly the helicopters seemed to target the camels and hit them cleanly. Bash flew over the killing field and could even imagine he was hearing moans as the creatures the colour of sand fell and died. Perhaps it was him that quietly moaned with distress and disbelief as he flew around the killing field in his tiny little plane.

            He could not understand what was happening. He stayed away from the helicopters. Once he felt he’d attracted interest and he dodged away into a line of trees like a pigeon escaping from a hawk but the helicopters did not swoop him nor did they even seem to care.

            The camels did not escape. They fell. One by one. They fell. In the tens, twenties, fifties … Many, many camels fell that day.

            Bash was silent as he made his way back to Ektek base. What on earth could it mean, this mass slaughter of camels, he wondered. Why were they to be obliterated when all they had done was turn to humans to ask for water?

 

 

II

Spark flew up and down, over Bedlam Zoo’s high wall. He gasped for air, flapped his underwings and desperately found one last pinch of energy to drive him to Ektek’s door. He was completely exhausted. He had pushed himself to the limit. He could not go another millimetre. He lay on the ground, just outside the hangar mouth, gasping for air.

            Concerned beetles surrounded him and the word quickly spread through the hangar that Spark was back and that he was hurt.

            Clear the way. Get out of my way, now. Please. On his way back from touring with the trainee beetles, Torque marched through the crowd—Come on, come on, what’s going on here? Sparkie? What’s happened? Are you all right?

            The sparkly beetle gathered himself together and spoke—I’m okay, Torque. Don’t fuss.

            A small green beetle squeezed a flower into Spark’s mouth, letting tiny atoms of watery nectar quench his thirst. Torque pushed her away—If you’re so okay, what are you doing lying on the ground, then?

            —Bit tired, that’s all. Spark reached out for the nectar again but Torque prevented him from drinking.

            —Tired? Where’s Crawf?

            —Tell Antenna. They got him. They got Crawf. Can’t move. Must rest. Tell Antenna.

            —Crawf? said Torque—Our Crawf?

            —S’true. I swear it.

            Torque shook his head and indicated to the watching beetles they could get back to looking after his young assistant and Spark gratefully gulped nectar from the offered flower. He sent the trainee beetles back to the feeding centre. He would tell Antenna the bad news. Although he was finding it hard to believe that Crawf, of all creatures (Crawf!) would get himself captured. Torque never thought he’d live to see that.

 

 

III

Crawf dozed. He was reasonably comfortable on his perch but he was getting cold. Some vague light permeated into his cage but it was difficult to see. He knew he was in a small enclosure wedged between the outside wall of a ship; the wall beside the sea, and the inside wall of the cabin; the wall beside the humans. Constant noise kept him awake. Just as he fell asleep, a noise on either side of him; a thump or a bump or a wallop would startle him back to his dark surroundings.

            He couldn’t say how long he’d been there but even in this short time Crawf had almost come to like the press of water beside him. There was something familiar about it. Perhaps it reminded him of being close to a loving parent while still in an egg. The wall of the vessel was thin and the water sounded as a heartbeat kerplunking next to him: continual, rhythmic and powerful. He knew the great oceans were unforgiving and enormous, and that, at least, was predictable. Crawf knew he did not matter to the deep and would drown in a matter of moments should that wall be breached.

It was not the same fear he felt  the human beings on the other side of him. Humans could just as easily decide to eat him, torture him, free him or sell him depending on their nature and their whim. Who knew which way these humans might choose to go? It was obvious that the sea would go its own way, no matter what occurred but humans were risky, very, very risky.

            The egg feeling gradually became less comfortable as time went on. Still cold, Crawf was increasingly thirsty. He could see there was water and even seed in the cage but he could not avail himself of it. How long could he last like this?

            His beak was taped. Clearly the humans wanted him silent. He still had his feet free, however, but they could not reach his beak to get good purchase on the tape. After a lengthy silent debate with himself he decided to lift one foot up and tap it down onto his perch in a light tip tap tip tap … If any living creature were nearby, beside the huffing humans, that was; hopefully they would hear him and take a look. Perhaps they might be able to let him know what was going on? Perhaps they would agree to help him. He tapped on, uncertain whether it would result in a visit from an inquisitive Customs officer, a defensive smuggler or a lusty deathwatch beetle in search of a mate.

            Suddenly he became aware of a quick scrabbling coming up from beneath him. Incredibly, a wizened old rat managed to squeeze through the bars of his cage and get inside with him. Without a by-your-leave it proceeded to help itself to the birdseed waiting there, apparently just to torment Crawf. In the dim light seeping though the seams in the cabin walls, each creature could just make out the glittering eyes of the other—Ahoy, mate, said the rat, casually.

            Crawf tilted his head to one side and tried to say, Hullo? but of course his beak was taped and he could not make anything like a normal sound. Instead he uttered a muffled groaning. The rat sat back on his haunches and nibbled a piece of dry corn watching Crawf’s bird features with intense interest—What’s your story, then? Can’t talk, can you, ‘cos of that there beak being all tied up. Well, I could maybe have a bit of a go at peelin’ it off ya. What you reckon? Bit invasive when we haven’t been introduced, eh? You might think I was trying to chew your beak off. I wouldn’t of course, but you might think it all the same. You couldn’t be sure, could you. You wouldn’t be able to help wondering. You might even decide to spike me with that great big beak once I got it free. See? Can’t be sure, can we. Either of us. Don’t want to walk into a big sharp beaky trap, do I? Tell you what. I’ll give you my name, which is Salty, by the way, and in my mind you can be Big Grey and that’ll stand as a formal introduction until we can have a proper conversation. Now, the thing is, they’ll think you’ve had help unless we make it look like the tape came loose by itself. Can you cope with waiting ‘til I make it look good, then? Right. Can you manage to jump on the ground and I’ll get up on the perch and that’d be about the right height to do the job. Coping all right in this stuffy air? Okay? You must be worth a pretty penny if they’re doing this trip with only the three of you. No, you’ll have to wait to speak but I can tell you there’s a big old snake in the cage under you and a lizard up above you. There’s always some special creatures stashed away in this section of the wall. Must have built it ‘specially for the purpose, I always think. Never the best way to enjoy a sea going voyage but then, you’re prisoners, aren’t you. Let’s see. I think that’s got most of it loose. I’ll leave the other side attached.

            —Hullo? said Crawf—Thank you …

            —Well, you can talk then.

            Crawf swiftly filled his beak with water and nodded as he swallowed, trying to regain his composure. He looked at the rat—Who are you?

            —Told you, Salty. You?

            —Crawf.

            —Pleasure to meet cha, Crawf, though I have to say, I kind of liked Big Grey, had a certain gravitas …

            —Salty. Thank you. I don’t know what …

            —No worries, mate. Look, we’ve got to get you away before we cast off …

            —It’s okay, I’m not exactly after any help at the moment, thanks. I need to join up with some other cockatoos. Hopefully, this is my ticket to see my family.

            —Really? The lengths you youngsters will go, I don’t know. Anything you need, then?

            —Can you tell me, are we at sea yet?

            —Cripes, no! Waiting for the tide. Can’t you tell? Be rocking a fair bit more if we were out in open water! Never been to sea before? Shiver me timbers, you’ve got a journey ahead of you, haven’t you!

            —Will you be on board?

            —Too right. Did you want to get a message out? Do your creatures know where you are?

            —That might be useful. Yeah, thanks. I’m with Ektek. You just contact any beetle and …

            —Don’t you worry about that, matey. We know all about Ektek. I’ll get your message off in a jiffy.

            —You do need to tell them I don’t want rescuing. Tell them I’m safe. I’m perfectly fine. I just want to let them know where I am. I have to find my family. They’ll understand that.

            He hoped.

            Salty the rat picked up another corn kernel and gave him what might have been a cheery wave if Crawf had been able to see him properly in the dark before squeezing back between the bars and climbing back down the wall gap.

            Crawf was alone again. The walls began to press in on him.


Chapter Nine

 

I

A meeting gathered under the glow-worm lights of the control centre. Antenna was there, of course, as was Gleam, folded up, by the wall, just as small as he could manage.

Manifold and Spark were on the console desk. Spark was tucked up in a leaf to keep warm. Goodness knows how he’d managed to fly all that way on his own. He was still feeling overwrought but he was determined to be on hand to talk about Crawf. He just kept seeing him tucked into that tiny cage. Why had he done it and where was he now?

Manifold didn’t want to be there, feeling there were far too many beetles running around her hangar and she was responsible for them all. So many were completely ignorant and the hangar was fraught with dangers. Fraught. She just hoped they kept their extremities out of sharp edges and stood away from falling objects. She was hoping this meeting wouldn’t take long. Goodness knows what disasters she’d have to sort out when she got back to work.

            Hod was there, keeping his head down. He really didn’t want to be questioned too much about absconding from duty on the uni lab action. So far no one had noticed, apart from Bash, and he was hoping he might just get away with that particular lapse in judgement.

The shaved creature who called himself a quokka was there, also keeping a low profile for his own reasons and, of course, Eid was there, front and centre, ready to leap into action at the merest beginning of a signal. He was so ready. He had eyes only for Antenna.

            I should have been paying more attention but it was when you were in the uni lab, said Antenna. She was bowed in front of the computer screen, which was open to the sent email folder—I knew he’d sent the pet shop an email but I didn’t realise what it meant. I didn’t read it. I should have read it. I can’t believe I didn’t read it. I should have known what he was doing…

            —It’s not your fault, Antenna, said Hod—Crawf was going to do what he needed to do no matter what you thought.

            —There was too much else going on…

            —He never intended it to be just surveillance, said Spark.

            —No, said Antenna. She couldn’t understand what Crawf had been thinking. She shook her head and said in absolute amazement—He sold himself.

            —He gave himself away, you mean, said Spark.

            —There’s a difference, said Manifold.

            —Many thousands of dollars difference, agreed Antenna—We’re going to have to doctor his cage in the aviary section – make it look like he broke out. Can you fix that, Manifold?

            Manifold opened her mouth to speak when she was interrupted.

            —This is impossible, said Gleam—We can’t go off chasing after Crawf! We’ve got a line of number beetles out there with issues ranging from puppy mills to a bonneted bat. Crawf is exactly where he wanted to be. That beetle messenger said so. She said there’d been a rat and they’d talked and Crawf wanted to be left to find his family in peace.

            —You’re not saying we should leave Crawf on a yacht going who knows where with a gang of dangerous smugglers doing who knows what, are you?

            There’s something else! Torque flew into the middle of the meeting to report the cat’s presence outside—I would have been here before but… When he saw Bluey lounging in the space before him, he did a classic double take and his voice faltered. What was the cat doing here?—I had to take the beetles back to the feeding station…

            —What is it, Torque?

            —Him. Torque pointed to the rescued shaven beast that lounged, wound over his spine still showing, in the middle of the cave.

            The quokka? asked Hod.

—That ain’t no quokka, said Torque.

            —What are you talking about? said Bluey, sitting up very straight and snapping into defensive mode—How dare you?

            —That, said Torque in his best announcement voice—…is a cat.

            —Who are you calling ‘cat’, you bastard? I’m a quokka! What would you know, you buzzing, jumped-up fly!

            Look at him, said Torque—Anyone can see he’s a lying scoundrel.

            Of course, anyone could see Bluey’s lip tremble and they noticed that instead of spots on his fur, which was by now a gentle flocculation all over his scrawny rabbit like body, there were in fact, distinct ginger-esque stripes.

            Torque shook his head and turned back to the group—He’s a damned feral cat and he shouldn’t be here.

            —Feral? I’ll have you know I’ve eaten out of tins in my time. I came from a good family. Once.

            —See? He’s a cat; a murdering, ranga cat. Even he admits it.

            This is unbearable. Everyone stared at Bluey who continued to rant—I’ve just been racking my brains about how I can possibly thank Ektek for rescuing me and now you’re accusing me of being a murderer.

            Gleam said—Now, hang on…

            —Well, you’re accusing me of something… I won’t stand for it.

—He is a murderer, said Torque—I saw him eat a lizard.

            —We can’t live with a cat! said Hod.

            —Sorry, Bluey, but you’re going to have to go, said Gleam—We agreed. You had one chance. Just one. And you blew it.

            —Okay, okay, I’m hearing you, and no matter what, I am still grateful you pulled me out of that hellhole. So, I’ve got an offer in mind to prove how grateful I really am. Here’s the deal. I’m prepared to go undercover for you.

            —You don’t need to do anything … said Antenna.

            —No, really, I used to live on the wharves. Hear me out here, said Bluey—I’ve known many a fat sea-bodied rat – slightly too salty for my taste – entirely edible when you’re hungry. I could get on board that yacht and be useful.

            —A spy?

            —A cat looking after a smuggled bird, said Hod—What could possibly go wrong with that?

            —Look, I swear I mean you guys no harm. I love Ektek. I owe you. I can easily survive on rats – they weren’t endangered last time I looked …

—Not on your nelly!

—And I might even be able to do some good.

            —What about the wingship?

            —We can’t just leave it to rot on the roof of Pet Met.

            —Someone will have to go and get it. Hopefully, it’ll be Crawf.

            —That’s not going to happen any time soon, is it.

            —Who else?

            —I’m too big, said Hod.

            —I could.

            Eid, said Antenna and they all swung round to look at him.

            —You can’t fly.

            —I could learn.

            —Could you? How? By flying off the edge of a building and seeing how long it takes to smash into the ground? Antenna was so over arguing with this stubborn numbat—Can’t you see how difficult that’s going to be? And then we’re back to the same old problem. They’ll spend all their time looking for their valuable breeding stud and Ektek will be exposed.

            Manifold had been watching Eid work for her in the hangar. She liked what she’d seen. He worked efficiently and only needed to be told things once—He’s a quick learner.

            —How do you know? asked Antenna.

            Manifold and Eid exchanged a quick glance. Antenna saw it and wondered what it meant. She watched them. Manifold decided that ignoring that question was the quickest way through the discussion. She was on Eid’s side, now. She continued, hoping Antenna would forget all about it—If we could take a team of beetles with us we can make some alterations to the perch …

            —Crawf’s coming back, said Spark.

            —Not necessarily permanent alterations ...

            —Temporary adjustments, said Manifold.

            —Hod, you could take us in the tank, said Eid.

            —Have to wait ‘til dark, said Hod.

            Antenna nodded to Manifold, not sure why she was making this rash statement—Go teach him. She studiously avoided looking at Eid.

            Manifold looked at him, though, when his jubilation broke through his striped face. Eid had been given his chance. Manifold allowed one tiny degree of lift in the corner of her mouth. That was a big smile for her. No need to get carried away about it.

            —It’s unlike Crawf to cause us trouble, said Spark—He’s always been so reliable.

            —He wants a family, said Antenna—He’s desperate.

            —We should have known, said Spark.

            —Is there enough fuel? asked Manifold.

            —Only went as far as the wharf, said Spark—Should be plenty.

            —Eid. I’m counting on you.

            Eid nodded. He knew only too well this was his big chance and if she’d had any other option at all she would not have chosen him. Suddenly, it was as if there were only the two of them in the cramped control centre—I know, Antenna. I’ll do my best.

            Antenna knew he would. She also knew then as she looked into his intense eyes that he really did mean his very best and that there’d been an unspoken addendum. For her. He wanted to please her. Somehow he’d cracked through a layer of defence and struck home somewhere in her and she had seen him, really seen him, for the first time. Now she knew he was more than just an irritating young numbat out to cause her trouble. Now she knew he was a male, a young male numbat who was out to cause her trouble, trouble as a young female numbat and she started to feel just a teensy bit troubled somewhere close to her heart and somewhere further down, somewhere hormonal, somewhere that had never felt this way before, somewhere closer to her tail.

 

 

II

Bash flew over the wall into Bedlam Zoo and round into the valley that hid the entrance to the hangar cave. Because he was so tired, he misjudged the landing spot. The plane slid and bounced and skidded into the bush and came to rest against a rock. When he realised he was still alive and he’d calmed down, Bash let out a sigh of relief that he had made it home in one piece. He was despondent about those camels. More than despondent, he was shattered. He really needed to see a friendly face and debrief. He leaned forward onto the cockpit control panel and rested momentarily. He knew he’d have to go in and find Manifold or someone to tell them where the little plane was. He expected to get into trouble and he wasn’t quite ready to face the music yet.

Suddenly the rock began to move and the little plane joggled and jolted and finally bumped to the ground. Bash shouted out—Oi! He unbuckled his safety harness, thinking some idiot was playing stupid games. He clambered out the cockpit window muttering to himself and hit the ground prepared for a fight. Only, it wasn’t a rock that the plane had hit. It was Shining Teeth. She stood smiling down at him. The fight drained out of him and he looked into her furnace-red eyes and said—What are you doing here?

            Shining Teeth raised where her eyebrows might have been and said—I live here; and you?

            Bash stared at her with loathing and rising fear. He opened and shut his mouth like a fish.

            A team of beetles, headed up by Manifold ran out of the cave. Some of the newer members tried out—Hup, hup, hup as they ran and some of the older members of the gang looked at each other and sneered. Hup, hup, hup was a bit over the top, wasn’t it? They managed to put their differences behind them when they saw the little plane and realised they’d have to get it up to the hangar to check it out in better proximity to their tools. A pair of runners took off back to Ektek and shortly returned with Hod and Gleam, ready to help Bash if need be.

            Hod went directly to the beetle team and helped lift the little plane following Manifold’s shouted orders. He took it in his little wallaby arms and held it carefully to carry it back to the hangar. Many of the beetles followed but some of the newer ones stayed to watch Shining Teeth in action. They’d heard about her but never seen her. Oh, she looked a lot worse than they’d heard. They kept a good distance away.

            Shining Teeth targeted Gleam with her firey eyes and grinned from ear to ear—Goody goody, a welcoming committee. Is there cake?

            Gleam ignored her, which took some doing, and spoke directly to Bash—What did you see? With the camels.

            —Horror, the horror … Bash stared into the past and smoothed his little frog hand over his shining head. He looked directly up at Gleam and whispered—Just horror, plain and simple. I blamed you for sending me out there. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to see that but now I know what the world is like. Now I know.

            —Can we rescue them?

            —There are none left to rescue.

            —I thought they wanted to be guided to water?

            —The helicopters. Helicopters rounded them up and shot at them and they all ...

            Shining Teeth decided she’d been silent long enough—Died?

            —Yes, yes. There were hundreds of them and they were driving them into a sort of canyon and they herded them and then they fell and the blood ran …

            —Sounds like your sort of picnic, Gleam. Can we go back and get the meat?

Gleam lowered his head and burst forth in a huge roar of frustration right in Shining Teeth’s long thin face. She never moved a muscle. Never even twitched but then she said in that sing song voice—Ngnair, ngnair, ngnair, ngnair, ngnair, and, for good measure, added a whispered—Whachoo gonna do about it?

Gleam stared at her angrily. Luckily Hod had returned from delivering the little plane back to the hangar. Sensing there might be trouble between the magnums, although he knew he could do little should a crocodile and a tiger chose to fight, he decided he needed to be there. Even though he preferred to be anywhere else he knew he had a responsibility and he’d had enough of running away. He stepped down beside Gleam and whispered—She’s not worth it. She’ll go away if we ignore her.

Gleam recovered his dignity. He managed to step away and ignore her again. He stared at the surrounding bush and looked at the beetles around them – anywhere but at that blasted crocodile.

—Shining Teeth, have you ever considered taking a holiday? Hod stepped up to the croc and said—Perhaps a trip up the coast? You could catch some waves, chill out on the beach, eat some tourists, you know the sort of thing…

Shining Teeth stared at him. She could do belligerent extremely well.

You’ve got nothing to lose, here, you know. Hod covered his confusion by some more words. He realised he was blathering—We do. Ektek, I mean. Ektek’s got a lot to lose if you stay here. Shining Teeth?

—Yes, Wally-woo-woo?

—Why are you here?

—You know, Hoddy, to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure.

—Why don’t you go away until you are sure?

            Gleam had been chatting to the beetle team and located one of the numbers. He turned to Bash and said—Listen, Bash, all these numbers have extraordinary tales to tell. Like this one, what’s your story again, little one?

            The beetle puffed out its thorax and squeaked—Number 247 and then added—Kangaroos.

            —Kangaroos? said Bash—What’s wrong with them?

            —Ah, said the beetle—Let me show you, and, under Gleam’s watchful eye, they proceeded to dance around the belligerent crocodile. Shining Teeth rolled her eyes and sashayed her long tail as she left beetle and Bash to their beautiful and informative pas de deux.

 

 

III

A team of beetles jogged in to the hangar from the bushland—Hop, hop, hop …

            Manifold looked up from her task at the sticks-and-grass-woven instrument panel to watch them coming in. She wasn’t sure about the hip-hop thing but they’d certainly managed to form a cohesive unit and were getting the jobs done. She’d put them to work building the flight simulator to train Eid and it was looking very close to how she remembered the original. Of course, this one would never fly but, as a facsimile, it was a reasonable teaching tool.

Eid was already in place in the makeshift cockpit with Torque sitting on the control panel as coach. They hadn’t bothered with walls or niceties; just the dirt floor to sit on and the cockpit with a basic frame of whittled sticks for the windshield. Eid, sitting up on his hindquarters was not much bigger than Crawf. He was managing to remember most of the controls, what they did and where they were, even with Manifold barking at him. He’d lost count of the times he’d ‘crashed’ the wingship but aside from his dignity, nothing had really suffered.

The beetles placed their sticks and leaves in an orderly manner in neat little piles around the workspace and then waited for their next instruction. Manifold nodded at them and looked to Torque—Don’t have anything else for them right now.

            Torque shouted through the stick frame at the beetle team—Well done, everyone. See you back here after your break.

            The learning beetles looked at each other. Strangely, most were disappointed not to have been given their next task but off they went to the feeding station. Probably because they’d been idle for such a long time they were happy to feel like they were doing something with a purpose instead of sitting round twiddling their antennae in a queue.

Ow, said Eid as a small branch hit him on the head during a difficult manoeuvre where Torque explained how to fly during a rainsquall. As she looked at the makeshift cockpit, falling down and completely inadequate, Manifold was less and less confident this bizarre plan would work. She sighed as she had to explain the landing gear system yet again but, after they’d picked up after one of their biggest crashes, Eid finally seemed to have got the hang of the thing. He relaxed into it. Why, he even started making zooming noises. Manifold saw no need to smile.

 

 

IV

After dark, Hod drove the tank to the wharf. On board were Bluey, a team of mechanics and Eid. Once they’d dropped Bluey off at the waterfront they headed straight to Pet Met.

Hod shouted back to Eid, the pilot who had never flown—You’d better listen to Manifold. She’s the only thing standing between you and oblivion. We’d rather have the wingship, okay? Don’t be reckless.

            Manifold, who was sitting up on the dashboard, snorted tellingly.

            Hod flashed her a glance and then had the grace to laugh—If I can't warn him away from recklessness, then who can?

            They had arrived and Hod roared off leaving Eid and the beetles standing on the path next to the warehouse. Eid’s heart was beating like a drum but he was determined to make this work. There was no way he could let Ektek down. No way he would let Antenna down. He would be a proper fully-fledged pilot before this night was out. Or dead.

            Eid, Manifold and a team of mechanics climbed up to the roof of Pet Met. It was a tough climb and all of them were exhausted when they made it to the top.

            The wingship was still parked by the lift housing. It looked to be still in good condition after spending a few nights in the weather. The beetles, together with Eid’s brute strength, made quick work of the simple modifications to the cockpit, removing Crawf’s perch and making room for Eid’s tail. Once seated in front of the instrument panel Eid was able to run through the basics confidently with Manifold. She started to think he might just be able to pull it off. Crawf had mainly operated the vehicle with his beak and feet while Eid would work with his hands, the occasional foot and, in emergencies, he had the luxury of utilising his very long tongue.

            Eid had a reasonably good grasp of the theory. Manifold had impressed upon him that she was the pilot brains and he was her mere puppet. It was imperative he follow her instructions to the letter. Eid replied to her lecture with a swift—Yes, sir! And he was not joking. She looked at him to be sure. He seemed completely sincere and he was. He was clear about following her orders. He had absolutely no problem with that. He would much rather be alive and flying than squashed into a can for pet food which could well be the alternative if they were discovered near here.

            After the final pre-flight check, which seemed to take forever to Eid and not nearly long enough for Manifold, the group fastened their safety harnesses and prepared for take off. For real. There was plenty of fuel on board and Eid kept his eyes open and his concentration on full alert.

            Finally, the time came when there was simply nothing left to check, double or even triple check and they had to make a move.

            Manifold and Eid got into position, started the engines and proceeded to taxi out of the parking spot. All clear above and astern and Eid managed to reverse the wingship following the leaf wavers on either side. When the wingship was in position for a safe launch, the two beetles clambered on board and made themselves safe. They were extremely nervous and made sure their escape hatches were ready.

            Moment of truth, said Manifold and told him exactly what to do. They managed to lift off, albeit a little bit jerkily. Eid was concentrating so hard he barely noticed they were off the ground and flying. They rose above the city. He didn’t give himself time to gloat but he did start to sneak a look out of the window. He could admire the buildings and the cars and the tiny humans looking just like ants crawling on the ground. Suddenly they were losing altitude. The city skyline got closer and closer. Manifold screamed at him—Lift up! Lift up!

For a moment Eid seemed frozen and couldn’t work out what to do. Then, as the wingship flew close to a billboard with a polar bear standing on the very edge of a tiny icefloe in the middle of a huge expanse of ocean, he managed to galvanise his wits and pull the wingship back up into the sky. Manifold kept quiet and thereafter Eid kept his concentration tight inside the plane. The two beetles in the passenger compartment clicked their seat belts back and shut the safety windows from where they’d been preparing to bail.

Eid kept hold and managed to fly the wingship back to the hangar. They made it home and it seemed to him it had been easy – he’d come through on some kind of autopilot. However, he also felt extremely tired so he knew he must have done something.

With care and precision he put it into the correct parking spot, bang on straight and even. Manifold was impressed with his work but being Manifold, didn’t get too carried away with ridiculous exaggerations or grateful exclamations. She patted him on the back and said softly—We didn’t die. The other beetles let out an exuberant cheer from the back seats.

            Eid was exhausted. Sweat dripped down his face, though it was hard to tell with the dark bar across his eyes—You were worried.

            —Slightly, said Manifold—You were sweaty.

            —Slightly, said Eid, wiping his face with his forepaws.

            You know, said Manifold—You keep this up, you could learn to fly the airship, when we get it back together, that is.

            —Really? said Eid—I would love that. Only …

            Yup? said Manifold.

            Do you, I mean, is it possible, can we not mention that to Antenna, just for the moment?

            Manifold knew what he meant. She could see Antenna wasn’t making Eid’s life all that easy but then, she also knew Eid wasn’t entirely beyond reproach—Sure. She’d keep quiet for the moment.

            Torque was waiting for them on their return. He flew up to the cockpit and admired Eid’s safe return—You did good, Eid. I’m sure Antenna will be proud of you. But what she does have to say right now is; get back to the enclosure. Immediately.

            —She would.

            —Don’t worry, Eid. She’ll come round.

            —Yeah. When I’m a hundred and six.

            —Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being old, you cheeky bugger!

            Eid smiled at the elderly beetle but he held to his melting insides. When would Antenna take him seriously? When? When?

            Torque knew what he was thinking. He’d been young once. He’d seen the way Eid looked at Antenna. He wasn’t heartless.

            I feel for you, kid. Torque was a bit gruff. He wanted to see Eid happy—Listen, more than my job’s worth to tell you what to do but…

            —What?

—Well, I may just have an idea…

—Any idea’s worth a try, Torque.

            —Well. Now, I’m not saying it’s a sure thing, mind, but ... Look, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll have a bit of a think and get back to you. I want to make sure this’ll really work before I stick my neck out, and yours. More ‘n my job’s worth …

            Eid looked at the little beetle—You’re a good friend, Torque. You really are.

            Torque was a bit embarrassed but he said—No more than my job. Come on, hop it.

            Eid rolled his eyes but did. Hopped it, back to his enclosure but this time with a straight spine and a shine in his eye.

 

 

V

 

Bluey managed to find the yacht in question; at least he hoped it was. After examining the lines of boats tied up at the marina, he’d narrowed it down to two that were pretty close to the beetle’s description. He made a hurried decision. He prepared to observe one, he thought stupidly, named the MsTree, and make some sort of plan. He found part of the wharf buildings that overlooked an area leading up to the yacht in question. He needed to discover which vessel held the smuggled animals because, once boarded, the risk of being taken out to sea while he was searching was simply too great. He hated swimming. So, he took his time. He made himself comfortable on an old bit of sacking squashed in next to the wall of a barn-like building, perhaps to keep the metal door from rattling in the off shore breeze. He kneaded and pounded the sack until he’d made a tolerable bed. There he would lie and keep that one eye open on the MsTree, a sparkling yacht with wooden trim. He was still a bit sore and glad of the opportunity for a snooze. Even though it was night, humans came and went, up the gangplank and down the wharf, carrying supplies and luggage. Bluey supposed the smugglers had the same kind of requirements as did Ektek. They didn’t exactly want to advertise what their real purpose was in life so working under cover of darkness was a necessity. He watched and judged each individual, putting pieces into a plan. Patience, perseverance and positivity, his old mum had always said and although Bluey had run through a few lives, he was still here, and he had no immediate intentions of doing anything but surviving.

            Finally his patience was rewarded by a flash of a rat, crawling along the rope tethering the boat to the shore. It was a youngster, without highly developed survival skills, so busy concentrating on hanging onto the rope upside down that Bluey was able to pick him off like a ripe plum from a tree. Bluey hugged the rat tightly around the neck with his teeth and trotted around the corner to his bit of sack out of the wind.

            Now then, said Bluey, when he’d been able to place his foot firmly on to the captive—This yacht; the MsTree. Any smugglers on board?

            —Let me go! squirmed the rat.

            —You idiot, said Bluey—I’ll let you go as soon as you talk. Tell me if that’s a smuggler’s yacht. I need to find a grey cockatoo.

            —What’s a cockatoo?

            —Just tell me. Are there any prisoners on board?

            The young rat had no reason not to tell Bluey about the three caged creatures stuffed into the wall cavity. So he did. Bluey acknowledged the information but kept his shaven foot firmly on the rat’s guts to keep him from wriggling away. He looked out over the yacht, judged distances, timing and calculated quietly for a while, all the while watching the comings and goings.

            You said you’d let me go, said the plaintive rat.

            So I did, said Bluey quietly. Still that paw weighed heavy on the pinned rat until one group of humans approached the ship. Bluey had already taken note of a particular man and he’d been waiting for his return. This homo sapien was dressed in white, with a hat. His shoulders were decorated with bars of gold trim. Bluey waited until the humans were heading up the gangplank before he let the rat go free. Just as predicted, the youngster bolted. Instead of wasting time and confidence running up the rope, he took the easy option of running up the human’s walkway and the humans didn’t like it. They jumped away from the rat, snarling and growling at it and that’s when Bluey chose to make his move. Just as quickly as the rat, Bluey streaked up the gangplank. He let the rat lead him a speedy chase around the foredeck, giving Bluey the chance to show off; leaping and pouncing in such a balletic way he managed to attract the attention of all the humans on board. He came to a dramatic rest in front of the man in white, with the rat clenched firmly in his jaws and a pleasing attitude.

            The rat murmured—You broke your promise, just before it died.

            The people all laughed and praised the cat, who sidled and slid around the legs of all, but most pointedly, the man in white. All were enchanted with the peculiar shaven cat and the humans gabbled and blabbed in their bizarre manner. All this resulted in the dead rat disappearing (eventually to the snake in the wall cavity next to Crawf) and Bluey tucking into a large plateful of shredded fish. Everything was most satisfactory and Bluey curled up and kept his one eye open as the humans prepared to cast off the yacht and leave for open waters. As he slept, or pretended to sleep, he heard a voice. He looked around with his one eye but could see no creature. The voice seemed to be coming from right next to him; from the very wall itself.

—It’s luck, ain’t it. Got to make your own luck, I say. In our case, us rats are luckier than most because we eat anything. We’re not reliant on a plant that grows on the eastern side of a particular hill that only gets one night of frost every four years. No, that’s not the way for us rats. We’re adaptable. Flexible. Just like human beings, ain’t we. That’s why we all get along so nicely. Everywhere they go, we go too. You cats are the same, ‘en’cha. Like to eat whatever you can and ingratiate yourselves in deep with the people. Wind them round your little paws, give them a purr and they think you like them – oh I know – I’ve seen ya – you’re already in good with the captain there, ‘ain’t cha. You suck up to them and they’ll fall for yer every time. Give you a tasty bit of fish – after you’ve caught the rats. Well, you ain’t catching me, see. I’m cleverer than that. I‘ve got my reasons for wanting to live, and so have you, I’m guessing. Ever need anything, the name’s Salty. Give us a call, sometime. And then, silence. The rat had gone.

Bluey got up and kneaded his cushion. He’d done enough for one day. He was content having heard from Salty and did not feel the need to contact Crawf. He knew he was near by. That would be enough for the moment.

In his wall cavity, Crawf, however, was desolate. The cage seemed to be shrinking. It was dark. It was cold. The bravado that had driven him this far was sinking as fast as his heart. He was lonely and scared and could hear the bumping and scrapes as the MsTree left safe harbour and headed out to open sea and to his future. Whatever that might be.

 


Chapter Ten

 

I

This time, the land Bash flew over in his little plane was not arid orange. It was grey, grey green, and it was smooth. Although trees and stunted shrubs dotted here and there, mostly the landscape was barren, except for the rows of sticks like toothpicks that stuck into the surface of the olive grey skin in long intersecting lines. Bash knew these toothpicks to be fencing, enclosing areas designated for farming livestock. This stock was the sort of thing destined to be eaten or drunk or worn by humans. The fence lines stretched as far as he could see over the smooth grey surface of the land. Then, not far from a clump of buildings, he saw an enclosure markedly different from the straight-line paddock surrounds. This fence was much higher, for a start, and the area it enclosed was round, round as Bash’s eyes, which stared uncomprehending at the circle. It reminded him of footage he’d seen on a website about circus animals where Ektek had once worked to help save an aging elephant.

The circus-ring fence line was covered in something opaque; a brown sacking material. Some humans marched from the building to the enclosure. Inside the barrier were kangaroos. Their grey brown fur almost blended into the grey of the land. Were they to perform tricks in the circus ring?

As Bash flew the little plane around the curved fence line he saw some of the kangaroos in silhouette and even as he saw them and noted their tall ears and their little arms and their round haunches, these shadows did indeed do tricks. One did a flip and lay still. Then another did a crazy jerky dance and also, fell. The next jumped and flopped its head backwards at an unearthly angle before it too slid to the ground. None of the acrobats got up again. These macabre dances reminded Bash of nothing so much as those camels he had seen cracked down by gunning helicopters.

            Bash could not understand what these kangaroos had done to deserve their slaughter. Why were they falling? The question pounded in his tiny frog brain as he flew around the enclosure and then, not able to bear the weight of fallen beasts any further, he flew straight across the olive green skin of the land, heading for home. As he flew and looked down from his cockpit, he saw livestock, sheep and cattle grazing in their allotted rectangles. Then he saw more kangaroos almost flying across the ground as they ran and leaped away from the humans that were herding them, racing and jumping, to their circular death tent.

            Bash simply could not understand. Wet lines streamed down his face as he wept salty frog tears, terrible for his skin. He was overwhelmed. What could he do? He had to do something. He could not stand to see this slaughter. Everything was out of kilter, the balance too far gone. It was up to him. He could no longer be a silent witness. He had to become involved. He must make a stronger protest than mere observations. He needed to be effective. As he flew back down and into the Ektek hangar, this time without getting tangled in a crocodile, he seemed to shut down into himself even as he shut off the engines to the little plane. He needed time to process what he’d seen. He would have to formulate a plan, he needed strength and he would need some help. He unplugged his safety harness and lay down quietly on the cockpit floor and went to sleep.

 

II

The sea welcomed the yacht. It stretched out in front of the wood-trimmed vessel with open arms and inviting sea breezes constant enough to keep the sails trim. The MsTree’s engines had been cut long ago. Plenty of wind kept them moving and conserved fuel. At least, that’s what Bluey surmised. He looked out at the ocean with his one eye open and felt rocked, soothingly. He was calm for the first time since he’d been incarcerated in the lab. He could feel his spine healing with every lungful of sea air. He’d been fed again when he had rewarded his carers with another fat rat from the kitchen. At least, that’s what cook was given to believe by Bluey’s careful orchestration. Bluey had had further congress with Salty – not seeing him of course – but they understood each other. Bluey had not mentioned Ektek and Salty had not mentioned Crawf. There was no need to speak further at this time. Just at the moment, Bluey could think of nothing better than to lie on deck with a fat belly and contemplate the tiny white tips to the deep blue waves that dimpled the water around them. The sun shone and really, seagoing life was picture-postcard glorious and suited a convalescent cat very well indeed. Bluey turned and slept some more, his one eye open now turned down to the cushion giving any who should care to examine him an impression of extreme relaxation.

            The roar as the engines revived woke Bluey again. The water was now flat all around them; greasy and grey. The surface undulated with smooth muscular energy. The smell of fuel was in his nostrils once more. He picked himself up and twisted and turned in his efforts to straighten his poor spine. Then with his feet stretching and pounding, he kneaded his bed again and prepared to make himself comfortable. Idly, he noted another vessel on the horizon. Other objects, of course, all around them, bobbed and dipped in the calm. Plastic buoys, bottles and bits of nylon rope were easily identified floating on the surface nearby but this particular vessel was not flotsam, it was a speedboat, and it was getting closer, fast.

The noise of the engine now moving the MsTree through the flat water drowned out the other approaching and it was getting near surprisingly quickly. Bluey was startled to see the vessel, instead of zooming past, stop just beside them and edge in even closer until the other boat was beside them. A group of men stood on board, watching the yacht get nearer. It must have been feline imagination that made him think he saw the glint of greed in their eyes.

            Bluey stood up. None of the humans on board the MsTree had noticed the boat approach. They were all seated around a table eating food. Bluey went in to them and told them about the boat moving alongside but was not rewarded by their attention. They assumed he was chasing tidbits from their plates and they pushed him away with growls. Bluey’s urgent shouts only made them more protective of their plates. How could he make them look to their own security?

            He then went up to the bridge, where the man in white was looking out to sea, and not having eyes in the back of his head, did not notice the visitors now almost close enough to touch. Again, when Bluey spoke and wound around the man’s legs, the man just kicked him aside. As a recent arrival on board, there was no way Bluey could risk further antagonism. He went back toward the side of the boat, calling out as he went—Salty. You there? We got company. Not friendly. Our human smugglers are unco-operative. We have to fend off the visitors ourselves.

            Bluey was annoyed when he didn’t get any response from the walls. He reasoned with himself; what did he expect talking to walls? But he was hoping, almost beyond hope, that those walls literally had ears and might even have some brains between those ears. Was it too unrealistic to expect those rats to make an appearance and not think it a trick to get them to walk into his mouth on cue? But he understood their reticence—Just come and take a look, will ya?

            By the time he’d made it back to the side of the yacht, two human hands were clinging to the railing – from the outside. He knew he would only have one chance at this so before he leapt he shouted out as loudly as he could to Salty to get on board! Then the man hoisted himself over the side and landed heavily where he fell. Bluey ceased to think rationally. He just launched himself at the man’s throat. The sounds that man made were awful, guttural yowls that didn’t stop because Bluey was scratching his face, biting his neck and even as the man stood and tried to pull him off, tried to strangle him, tried to push him aside, Bluey dug his claws in, held on and fought for all he was worth. He was gratified at one point to hear a shout from Salty—Pirates! Keep ‘em off, everyone! Bluey could see he’d been joined by a number of rats who ranged alongside his fight and bit and scratched every human hand that laid onto the side of the MsTree.

            By now the smugglers on board had heard the commotion and felt the bump from the invading boat. At last they made their way on deck with their weapons and what a screeching and squarking those humans made as they fought to protect the smugglers’ yacht. Heads knocked together with thuds and reports cracked as metal tubes spat fire at the humans. Both pirate and smuggler pointed long cylinders at each other and kept bellowing for good measure. The rats were singing their own battle hymn but Bluey remained silent. He was not at full strength after his brush with science and he needed every ounce of energy to keep attacking this man. He was fighting for his life and the two creatures, man and beast swung together on the very edge of the yacht before the man sagged suddenly and toppled into the water.

Bluey went too; dropped into the drink while still clawing at the man’s fleshy face. The pirate’s compatriots, loud and shrieking the entire time, soon scooped the injured buccaneer out of the water, dripping a stream of red blood. They turned on their speedboat’s engine and roared away from the smuggler’s yacht, defeated, at least this time. The yacht’s engines also blasted full steam ahead and powered away leaving a white foam wake and Bluey bobbing around in the water, floating like a cork.

            Bluey, soaked to the skin, having little fur to protect him, trod water miserably. He took another mouthful of brine as the wake smashed up against his face. He loathed swimming. He detested being wet. He spat out water and felt himself sinking. He struggled back up to the surface and kicked hard to stay there. He watched the MsTree recede into the calm flat water and could only just hear Salty’s parting shout—Watch out for the sharks, mate!

 

 

III

It was twilight and all the humans had left the zoo; all except the security guards who were tucked into their cabin watching football on the television and belching while they ate hamburgers.

The creatures left their cages and stealthily came to the Ektek hangar to watch the floating of the airship and to pay their respects to Helmut. Helmut had been the previous pilot of the airship who had died in the explosion in the desert.

As the airship filled and began to rise into the air outside the Ektek hangar, everyone watching remembered the cassowary, one of the founding members of Ektek, and a wise and thoughtful counsellor to most.

            The glow-worms had been enticed outside for once. It was a beautiful night, still and warm. They lined up on the oval balloon as it started to take shape and they spelled out, ‘Helmut’ with their radiant blue beams.

            Eid had never seen the airship inflated before and he was amazed at the size of the beast. To him it appeared to be one of the wonders of the world. It would soon be painted with gaudy signs and ads for the zoo – the animals believed the best camouflage for the airship was something bold and asking for money – but the ongoing argument about whether the advertisement had to be about the pandas or generic Bedlam fundraising had held the painting up. Debate raged around equality; was it unfair to have a figurehead animal taking all the attention away from 'lesser' animals? Who were the lesser animals? While recently-extinct Christmas Island pipistrelle bats faded into the caves of memory, what right did any animal have to attract major funding and focus when other species would certainly disappear for want of attention? Hod, particularly, was vehemently against any image of pandas and fought bitterly to prevent black-and-white fluffy pictures going anywhere near it.

            Eid looked up at the airship skin. This was a big test for him. He’d been able to fit the pieces of the jigsaw together, he hoped, without any holes or too much stretching, tacking them in place with careful stitches. The ants and beetles then finalised the seams with their immaculate needlecraft. Frogs had supplied the final layer of glue and weatherproofing – the slime from the back of a burrowing frog was extremely hardy stuff. The spider web had been spun and the fabric woven from three different species of spiders to give the best of elasticity and strength.

            The new beetle team had made short work of reassembling the airship engine. Each piece had been cleaned, oiled and polished as part of the education of the disparate beetles. Mandible was impressed with their progress. She had expected the airship restoration project to take much longer. She had, by now, accepted the newbies as part of her team. She’d even found some of them were more reliable than her more senior workers. She didn’t have much to say about it – she always found it difficult to offer praise – but she had been seen to smile every now and then. The new beetles who were the victims of this smile understood themselves blessed by the head mechanic of Ektek. This was no small honour and the hope of being bestowed with that loveliness made her interminable orders, reminders and chivvying-along much easier to bear.

            Rebuilding the cockpit and the rest of the gondola had proven to be an enormous learning curve. If it hadn’t been for Eid’s height, the ants and beetles would have taken three times as long to get it back together. The gondola held the bridge and a passenger area. Then there was the cargo hold, which was capable of storing the tank and the red steam car. On board emergency gear included water and dried food, and surveillance equipment together with a small satellite dish, which relayed data from other vehicles up to the satellite in orbit. This satellite was still working, dedicated to animals’ use by a visionary vet who had gone by the name of Zed.

            A conga line of mechanics, both ant and beetle, held the hose pipe steady as it pumped hydrogen gas into the balloon, filling the skin taut up against the frame shaping the airship and lifting the ship into the air once more. It seemed to be holding. Eid breathed a sigh of relief.

Hydrogen was sourced during power generation. Ektek utilised solar panel arrays on the zoo’s buildings. The power generated fed into a bank of batteries stored to the rear of the hangar – in a well-ventilated area, of course. Once recharged, those batteries were ready for use in any Ektek vehicle. The build up of hydrogen around the batteries was collected for the airship. The hydrogen had been stored in large tanks waiting for this moment and was now feeding into the airship very effectively. The great craft rose into the air.

            Check moorings! shouted Mandible. She ran toward the ropes curled in loops on the hangar floor and sure enough, no one had thought to tether the airship to the ground. It had been so long since their airship had been a useful part of the Ektek fleet; the creatures had become lax in their attitude toward it. A charge of beetles made the airship fast. No floating away on the twilight evening for this vehicle. Mandible shook her head. She didn’t like to micromanage, but when it came to beetles there was sometimes no choice. Someone had to think of everything.

            The airship was airborne. It looked as if the skin was working just as intended. Eid was stoked when Antenna appeared beside him. He was outwardly calm, of course, when she congratulated him on the work he’d done to get the airship back in service again, although she couldn’t help asking—When did you get a chance to do all this work?

            When you were with the family, of course, said Eid, hardly lying at all. In fact, sometimes when he was supposed to be on duty at night, he had snuck out and worked on the skin but he felt confident that no one would dob him in and no harm had been done. He smiled radiantly at her and turned back to look at his handiwork. Just standing beside her, that was enough, looking in the same direction and when she walked away from him he felt just a touch colder.

            Manifold and Eid didn’t mention Eid’s continued flying practice, both on the wingship and in the cockpit of the airship; and Antenna was none the wiser as she left the hangar. Both Eid and Manifold felt a bit guilty about this omission. Not lying exactly. Just not telling her the full story. Both numbat and bombardier were fully aware that Antenna would think it lying – had she been told. Which she hadn’t. And she wouldn’t.

            Eid looked over to the bombardier beetle—Thanks, Manifold. I owe you.

            Manifold pulled one of her dried up smiles and said—Debt repaid.

Then she strode away to get those beetles moving the gas line out of the way, shouting—Do you want everyone tripping and breaking their necks?

            As Eid stared up at the finished floating airship, watching the glow-worms take their slow sticky path down the tethering rope, Torque arrived to see Eid—I think I may have something for you. For you-know-what-and-you-know-who? You interested?

—You mean … ? Eid couldn’t even say her name. His thin pointy face brightened. As far as he was concerned – bring it on!

—Yes, said Torque—I reckon this has to work. She’s got to love it.  He turned slightly to reveal that he was accompanied by a small metallic looking beetle. Her dark green elytra had striking red tips. She had thick bold antenna and an unusual flat thorax. Torque looked around cautiously to make sure they weren’t going to be overheard and, even though there wasn’t anyone remotely close, he grabbed a hair from Eid’s hairy leg and tugged him away to a more quiet spot in the hangar—Come here. We’ve got work to do. Eid barely felt the follicle encouragement but went along with the two beetles to be obliging.

            This is Mala, said Torque—If you follow her dance, you’ll learn everything you need to know. Make sure you pay close attention, and copy everything she does, down to the last detail. Understood?

            Eid nodded, without the faintest idea of what Torque had in mind. Still, he followed Mala’s direction in the honey-bee dance and shook and shimmied her directions with all his heart and soul.

            When Eid had finished he knew the plan and it was ambitious to say the least. As the huge reality of it dawned on his consciousness he slowed the dance down and saw that Torque had joined in. Mala made sure Torque was just as confident in the steps and shakes as Eid had been. Eid was puzzled—Why are you learning it?

            Because, Torque growled at him—I’m coming too, of course.

Eid said—But…

Torque ignored him and looked to Mala. He said—Thank you, Mala.

—Yes, added Eid, remembering his manners—Thanks, Mala.

You move beautifully for a bipunctatus. Tell me, said Torque—What are your plans now?

            Mala bowed gracefully to the elder statesman and said—I think I’d best be moving home. I’ve really enjoyed working on those plugs but I’ve got family and I’ve been getting a bit homesick.

            —I wish you all the best, my dear. Please give my regards to Mandible and tell her I’ll speak with her soon. I’m sure she’ll be more than amenable to your wishes. Happy journey.

            —Thank you so much, Torque, said Mala. She turned to Eid and added—I hope things go well with … you know. If it’s any help, if I were a numbat … I wouldn’t hesitate. She smiled a cute little smile and skipped off back to the mechanics who leaned on their work bench watching the airship reach the end of its tether and float gracefully in the air. The re-floated airship was a real source of pride for these beetles who’d been without aim or purpose such a short time ago.

            Eid couldn’t help but feel more positive after this encouragement and drifted away on a little dream of his own involving the numbat of his hopes, and celebrations with a large family ... Torque quickly brought him back to earth—So. When are we off?

            —Torque. This is a long journey. A really, really, long journey. I had no idea you were going to come up with something like this and I do agree, it’s a good plan. Big but good. She might even like it. But if I do it, I think I should do it on my own, don’t you?

            —‘If’ you do it? You are going to, aren’t you?

            —I’d like to, Torque, but …

            —I’m an old coot, Eid. I don’t know how much longer I’ve got. Spark’s well on top of the job here. He doesn’t need me. You do. Life’s too short. Let’s get cracking.

            Eid was going to argue that no, he didn’t need an aging darkling beetle on a trip over many seas but figured it was simply more than his job’s worth. Looked like he had a travel partner whatever happened—I guess we’re a team, then. So. Do we have a plan? How do you propose we get there?

            Torque looked up. Eid followed his gaze and stared even harder—Oh, no …

            Yup. We’ll borrow it and, if we hurry, no one will even notice it’s gone.

            —‘Borrow it’ ... I see. Eid nodded thoughtfully—One question.

            —Ask away.

—Just exactly how are we going to ‘borrow’ the airship without anyone noticing?

            All around the hangar, under the airship, over the airship and up the rope ladder to the airship, the beetles and the ants continued their feasting party; cups of nectar clinked, whistles blew and streamers were flung through the air. All around the airship were crowds of insects and animals celebrating the airship’s refloating; it was the centre of attention.

 

 

IV

Hod concentrated on turning a small metal tube in his hands. He held it up to his eye. It looked smooth enough to him but he put it back to the grinding machine again to make sure. Sparks flew around the space in a fire waterfall. He was wearing a protective apron to prevent his fur catching. He lifted the tube away from the machine and a small voice piped up—Looking good, Hod.

The voice belonged to Bash, tiny frog, who was hiding behind a pair of welding goggles lying on the bench. Frogs didn't normally have any place in a machine shop but these were desperate days and called for extreme measures – at least in Bash’s eyes – so he sheltered from the spark storm and watched his dastardly plan come into fruition.

Gleam entered the machine cage and lay down in the corner. He had every right to do that because this was where Gleam slept. As he was not a bone fide member of the zoo community, Ektek had to house him. The machine cage was the most suitable place and had been since the first day he’d arrived. He was exhausted and laid his head down on his paws.

It was only the sound of metal grinding that made him lift his head again and look at the wallaby working in the other corner. After a while Gleam couldn’t help his curiosity—What are you doing?

Hod continued grinding as though he hadn’t heard. During a pause in the metal work, Bash replied in his tiny frog voice—It’s for me. For the little plane.

From under the bench came another voice; a deeper, more sardonic reptilian voice—We invented it. We like to call it ‘machine gun’.

Gleam stood up and stared through the gloom and around Hod to see that Shining Teeth was also sheltered away from the sparking machine.

Bash, thinking that Gleam was about to give them one of those boring peace and love lectures jumped out from behind the goggles and leapt up to stand on a vice. Hod downed tools because he didn’t want to get the frog fried with an accidental spark and Shining Teeth also came out from her cover. The three of them stood staring at the tiger – the frog almost at confronting eye height—I just have to, Gleam. You didn’t see. You don’t know.

—With the camels. Yes, you told me.

—With the kangaroos! They were harvested and thrown away. They were laid waste! I can’t bear it, Gleam. I can’t sit by in my comfy little cabin and do nothing any more.

—What’s your plan?

—I’m gonna get ‘em. Gleam let that roll through the cage—And?

Bash could immediately see it wasn’t enough but he had no more to say.

On the other hand, Hod and Shining Teeth were happy with ‘get ‘em’. It seemed to work. Punchy. To the point. They nodded to each other and turned back to watch Gleam’s reaction.

—Glad to see you’ve thought it through, said Gleam. He indicated Shining Teeth and Hod—With a little help from your friends.

—He’s right, Gleam, Hod insisted —From that lab to those killing fields, you must have known what he’d witness. You can only see so much before it starts to get to you. I’m glad to help him. Something has to be done; you have to admit that. I admire him. At least he’s got guts.

—Yes, said Gleam—But what's he going to do?

—I've got a plan, said Bash.

—Glad to hear it. However, Bash, there's action and there's ...

— ... and there’s action, yes, said Shining Teeth—But come on, realistically, Gleamster, he’s just a little frog. What do you honestly believe he’s going to be able to achieve?

—His own demise, without a doubt.

—That’s comforting, isn’t it, Bash? said Shining Teeth, ever conciliatory. She might even have been trying to goad the frog.

—Shows how much faith you have in me, said Bash. He was feeling goaded.

—Nothing to do with you, little frog, said Gleam. He didn’t mean to be patronising, it just came out that way—It’s all about firepower, isn’t it? Biggest wins. You’re putting yourself in the firing line, don’t you understand that?

—You see, that’s just where it doesn’t matter to me any more, said Bash—If I go down after hitting some clumsy thoughtless bastard who’s doing the wrong thing because they’re ignorant or maybe even because they don’t care, then I’ve achieved something. Maybe they might take a minute to work out what I was doing. Maybe they might start thinking.

—If they’re clumsy and thoughtless why would they even notice you?

—I don’t know, Gleam, but I do know I can’t just bear witness any more.  I have to do something! It’s too much … It was wrong. Those kangaroos … They’d done nothing I could see except be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It always comes down to humans. Whatever they want they get. Wherever they want to go – well, off they go – and I’m sick of it. I want to teach them a lesson they’ll remember.

—Bash, said Gleam—I’m worried.

—Don’t be.

—I’m worried for your life.

—It’s my life.

Gleam stared at him in disbelief. How could he get through to him?—I don’t see how you’re going to make that much of an impression.

—That’s my job, interrupted Hod—…and I think we can make it work. He revealed the two guns he’d been working on. They were gleaming, mean looking, a perfect fit for either side of the little plane—The plane will essentially become a gun turret on the wing. Bash is going to be effective.

—Until he gets hit.

—He can fly out of the way.

—For how long?

There was no answer to that, and Gleam turned and went back to his bedding. He lay back down, put his head on his forepaws and closed his eyes in unhappy resignation. The other three looked at each other and shrugged. Then Hod got back to work. Bash and Shining Teeth took cover again. Hod clenched his teeth and worked the metal against the grinder. Sparks flew and reflected in the little frog’s black eyes. Everything was going to plan.

 


Chapter Eleven

 

I

Antenna looked up into the sky—What do you mean, it’s gone? She sat down on her haunches, straightened her spine and looked up. She searched the clouds for any sign of the airship—It can’t have. Was it possible it might just materialise? Return right there and then? A raven called out, up high against the ceiling of the sky, but no airship could be seen anywhere.

Beside her just outside the hangar, stood Mandible, looking anywhere but up. She was extremely uncomfortable—Thought you knew.

            —Of course I didn’t know. With Eid gone … That means I’m in the exhibit. Then, another realisation struck Antenna—More than just part of the family, I’m part of the breeding program … Oh … Where did he go?

            Sorry, Antenna, I don’t know. They’ll be back …

            —They? Who else?

            —Torque.

            —Torque? What the …? He’s too old to head out on actions! Anyone else?

            —Just Torque.

            —Torque. Why didn’t he tell me? Hang on. Antenna thought this through—Oh, no. She stood up, horrified, as she realised that Torque must be a hostage—Eid must have threatened him …

            —Torque wasn’t threatened, Antenna.

            —Why else would he have betrayed me like this? He’s the head of security!

            Manifold was very apologetic. She knew it wasn’t enough but she hung her beetle head just a little bit—I thought it was a normal action.

            —You helped them?

             —We did the pre-flight and loaded their supplies.

            —No one thought to mention it to me?

            —You weren’t here.

            —No, I was doing what I’m supposed to be doing. Okay, where’s that number now?

            —Gone.

            —Gone?

            —Buzzed off after she’d passed on the details. She’d been here for weeks, you know. Helped with the spark plugs. Needed to get home to her larvae.

            Antenna sat down again and looked at Mandible. Then she rubbed her paws over her face—Right. Of course. Any idea when they might get back?

            —Don’t know.

            —Mandible. I thought more of you. I really did. I’m going to attempt a radio link …

            —Er, not fixed yet.

            Antenna stabbed the head mechanic with a look that said ‘that’d be right’ before she said—I’m trying anyway, on the off chance. If anyone remembers something, anything, please, let me know.

            —I will. Sorry, Antenna.

            Without acknowledging her, Antenna walked back inside the hangar, filled with worries on a number of fronts. If anyone had asked her she would have said she was concerned for the airship itself. It could already be seriously damaged. It had only just been repaired! It was the prize of the Ektek fleet, it was fragile and it was needed to run rescues. It was an extremely useful vehicle and not to be used foolishly by a beginner numbat who could easily get himself killed. She might also admit to worrying about Torque whom she had known for all of his life. As head of security she had always been able to rely on him and she had no idea why he wouldn’t have told her about going off on some bizarre action with no research at all, taking with him a disobedient numbat that needed to be where Antenna could see him because she was supposed to be his doppelganger and if he didn’t get back from this childish running away nonsense they’d be found out and she’d have to stay in the enclosure and they’d think she’d changed sex and she’d have to undergo invasive scientific tests and her keeper might recognise her from the old days and it would cause all sorts of troubles and she’d probably get dissected in the name of further studies and she wouldn’t have him there to blame and he could have just thought for one moment about leaving her like this. If he were in front of her right now wouldn’t she have some things to say to his pointed stripy face! How dare he go anywhere without telling her? Did he have no respect for her as an Ektek colleague? As a fellow numbat? As a friend? As … Anything? Did she mean so little to him? Did he not think of her at all? How could he endanger himself like this? What would she do if anything happened to him? Why couldn’t he have come to talk to her himself? Why didn’t he say goodbye?

            She brushed the tears away. She was beyond angry and she muttered all the way to the control centre and found as she entered the cave that her foul temper was more than matched by Hod. He was shouting at a computer screen open at the Bedlam Zoo website. He was on the yellow-footed rock wallaby page and he was very angry indeed—It’s true. I just knew it. I knew it.

—What? said Antenna, wishing she didn’t have to. She stared at the screen trying to work out what had made him so upset—Is it the pandas?

—Oh, well, it’s more than just zedding pandas now, isn’t it. I was checking to find out when they’re landing on us …

—When?

—Soon but that’s not the main thing ...

—You’re moving?

—Yeah we’re moving, oh, yeah, they’ve got us a most salubrious position, you’ll be jealous, you will, of all the yellow-footed rock wallabies now; down next to the waste transfer station, isn’t that a step up in the world and get this: we’re part of a ‘Special Program’ so I guess you could say that’s a blessing because at least that means they’re not getting rid of us. Treating us like dirt but still feeding us; ain’t that a blast?

— What ‘Special program’?

—Turns out, us yellow-footed rock wallabies are playing surrogate parents. Some of those joeys 1 thought weren’t mine really aren’t mine. The zoo’s been putting stolen embryonic joeys from wild brush tail wallabies into my wives’ pouches and, by the way, what’s happened to my children? That’s what I’d like to know. How dare the zoo treat me like some kind of guinea pig? It’s a violation of my personal rights, that’s what it is. My right to be a parent has been stolen from me. I don’t mind helping another species in trouble, of course I don’t but, come on, stealing a fellow’s kids and plonking a cuckoo in the nest, how’m I supposed to take that lying down?

Antenna sat at the computer and prepared to use the radio to call the airship—I don’t know. Antenna was so glum by now – Hod’s fiery indignation had somehow cancelled out her own anger – all she was left with was bare misery. She didn’t know where they were or how to get hold of them and she was worried sick she’d not see either Eid or Torque again. Particularly Eid and she hadn’t even known she’d cared that much about that annoying numbat and that shocked her. She wanted him back at Ektek safe and sound so she could throttle him. Or at least be near him. She was shaken and she was sad and after a considerable time of venting his selfish spleen, even Hod noticed she had nothing to say for herself—What’s up with you?

—Nothing.

—Don’t give me that. Give.

—Oh. It’s ludicrous.

—What?

—Eid …

—Oh, yeah?

Antenna didn’t hear the taunt. She continued her report in a business-like manner. She had no time for frivolous chitchat— … and Torque. They’ve stolen the airship and gone off to do some stupid secret activity on their own.

Stolen the airship? Even Hod was taken aback by the audacity of this—Torque and Eid? Where did they go?

—No one knows. Manifold hasn’t fixed the sound on the airship so, this is a long shot but; she spoke into the mic—Uptek? Uptek? Come in please. Over.

Both Antenna and Hod waited for a moment and listened to the white noise coming through the computer speaker. They looked at each other and then she tried again—Uptek? Can you hear me? Eid? Torque? Come in please? Over.

—At least they’re doing something, said Hod—Got to give them that.

Antenna sat back on her haunches again, giving up on the radio for the time being. She sighed—I don’t know, if they’re not dead or mangled in an exploded mess then I suppose, maybe, they just might be able to help someone. There’s huge queues of beetle numbers waiting with emergencies we can’t ever seem to get to. Then again, we’re talking about Eid. He’s never been on an action before and Torque’s not getting any younger …

—Bash has taken on another one.

—Another beetle? Where’s he gone?

—You don’t want to know.

—I don’t?

—He’s going to defend wild ducks.

—Defend? A frog in a plane?

—An armed plane.

—He’s armed? Hod?

 Suddenly Hod felt a rush of guilt and he didn’t like it. He could only hope she wouldn’t ask who helped Bash. Right now, Hod didn’t want to lie to her because he knew full well she wouldn’t like the truth and he really didn’t want to see any more disappointment in Antenna than he could see already. Deciding attack was the best form of defence he said abruptly—What you looking at me for?

—I can’t believe this. I thought Ektek’d agreed what was right for us…

—You agreed.

—No.

—Yes, you did. You thought everyone was like you. At one stage, I thought I was too but, news flash, Antenna, not everyone is like you.

—We’re all working for the same thing, aren’t we?

Hod felt another wave of guilt and cast around for another subject—Yes, yes, yes and in order to do that we have to stay together, work smarter and work stronger but we’ve got a problem; we’re running out of resources. We’re losing our trained workers. We need Crawf back. We need to rescue Crawf.

—Crawf? But he wanted…

—Crawf’s my brother, Ant. My Ektek brother.

—I know.

—I have to find him. I have to bring him back.

—Do we have any idea where he is?

—No, but I was thinking of Smacker. If they’re still at sea …

— … we could ask …

—Yeah, Gumfluff to go out …

Antenna had to think for a moment before she remembered what Intek was doing at the moment—They’re out in the marine park …

—Illegal fishing again?

—How did we get into this mess, Hod?

—I don’t know.

—I don’t either. I can’t see how Ektek can come back from this … It’s like all of us, Ektek itself, is endangered. There’s all these threats around us, threatening creatures all over the world and our own organization is so fraught with troubles inside we can’t answer or protect any one.

—It’s going to be all right.

—You hope.

—What else have we got, Ant?

Hod and Antenna looked at each other for a moment. Neither knew the answer, neither knew what could possibly lie ahead. Antenna sighed and looked back to the mic.

Hod also sighed and he looked back to the pandas on the Bedlam website. Oh, those zedding pandas. If Bash were here, the way he felt now, he’d point that little gun turret right at those blinking fluffy bears himself.

 

 

II

Eid and Torque were happily floating along in the airship. Eid possessed a natural talent for flying which was unusual in a numbat. He seemed to be able to predict the best of the air currents but, he insisted, he was just lucky. The weather was beautiful, the clouds were white and sculptural, and the landscapes were dramatic and magnificent. Eid was transfixed with everything he saw out of the window—This is the life, isn’t it, Torque?

            The airship was on cruise control as they shared a bite of the special zoo custard anteaters enjoy so much. Torque munched and said with his mouth full—Wonder if they’ve missed us?

            —Nothing they can do about it, said Eid—We’ll just keep on, get the job done and head home all safe and sound.

            —If everything goes according to plan.

            —By the way, Eid turned to Torque—What is the plan?

            —Haven’t we got a plan?

            —We know what has to be done, said Eid.

            —That’s half of it.

            —What’s the other half?

            —‘How’, my friend, ‘how’ we do what has to be done, said Torque—That’s more than my job’s worth, I’d say.

—Wait, there it is. Okay. Let’s see if we can fly over the farm, take a little shufti, without anyone seeing us.

Eid flew steadily over the bizarre place. The two creatures looked down on the ground to see the entire farm was fenced with dark brick walls. Inside the walls were two small human sized buildings surrounded by a series of rectangular metal wire boxes. The boxes filled the space neatly, like containers on a ship, which meant there was nowhere to land and nowhere for the airship to hide. Neither he nor Torque liked what they saw. They were going to have to act, and quickly.

 

 

III

The extra weight of the guns mounted on the wings made the little plane difficult to fly. Bash was frightened by how long it had taken him to gain altitude. He’d spent more time and fuel than he’d expected on the journey. He’d needed to practice turning, banking slowly in a much wider curve than he was used to take. He knew he hadn’t really thought this armament plan through properly but he was determined to carry on with it. For the first time he felt powerful and he meant to make the most of it.

            He managed to catch a small breeze and used it as if he were a glider to help him slide through the air as he came closer to the coast. He started to sing to himself – a little war song – a frog hymn of might and supremacy. He was a frog warrior and he was going to fight and he was going to win. Din, din, din; din, din, din…

            He flew into wetlands smooth as a mirror surrounded by grasses and reeds soft as fur. The scattered trees were silent sentinels raising their arms in supplication, into the warm embrace of the soft galah coloured sky.

            Over the hum of his engine he imagined he could just hear the dawn chorus of wild frogs. Perhaps they were particularly raucous this morning in support of his new power; his battle hymn was rousing them too. The little plane swooped down over the shallow lakes – a place where sea met shore and lakes met sea – and seeped and spilled – and made land wet. This was the place where fish came to breed and mosquitos ruled the airwaves. Waterfowl travelled enormous distances in their annual migrations across the planet to find their ancestral wetlands, to bring up their families and to travel forth yet again. How did they know where to go? Only the birds themselves could tell.

            Bash’s plane was about the same size as a large duck and he tagged along with a flock as they flew across the watercolour landscape. Their calls were audible over the purr of his engine and for once the frog felt truly like a bird. Being off the ground and away from water suddenly seemed natural to his amphibian world as he flew among these beings of grace.

            The waterfowl stretched their necks further through the air and turned into the breeze. Bash, having learned from his early morning experience with his newly weighted wings, took his time to bank around and when he was relaxed enough to look ahead again he saw that the flock had been depleted and there, there was a bird falling even as he looked. Falling, turning with wings useless, flapping open as if an umbrella in a storm, dropping into a straight down plunge.

            Now he could hear the pops, cracks and their echoes across the water and across the sky. A clap followed by another clap grew into applause scattering across the dawn.

So this was the duck hunt. The birds simply fell from the sky like boulders. This time Bash did not have to stand by helplessly and bear witness. Now was his moment, when his blood pumped and he remembered the satisfaction of computer game carnage. He was filled with energy and a determination to put things to rights. Now he’d levelled up from mere pathetic games. Now Hod had given him control over life and death for real and it felt wonderful and he felt commanding and he felt the need for retaliation well up in him. It was a solid feeling. He was clear in his purpose and he took hold of the plane’s controls and surveyed his options.

            As Bash took another turn over the water’s edge, he noted small islands and inlets where clumps of strange looking plant material bunched unnaturally. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noted movement. He saw a bulky human silhouette lift the metal tube to his shoulder and looked up to see another duck fall almost immediately as a result and then he saw the dog pouncing out of the shadows. Bash took his plane closer into the clump and let loose a round of ammo from one weapon. The force spun back into the plane and he rocked unnervingly before he could get control and fly level again.

            Bash rolled around and flew back over the camouflage. He was so angry he could not think evasively. He could hardly think at all. He rose too late as that man took aim and shot and, like a duck, the small plane plummeted also.

            The plane swan dived into a flat stretch of idyllic water with a genteel splash. Then silence. The dawn streaked the sky with watery blood and the lake’s surface tension reflected all those rosy hues while the indigenous frogs continued their endless conversations.


Chapter Twelve

 

I

Crawf was still stuck in solitary confinement. Although he was physically in his little cage in the wall cavity of the MsTree, he had entered a kind of dark zone – his mind floated in and out, through all sorts of memories and dreams, even dating from the time of his egg days. Although he was cold, sometimes he felt hot; burning with the memory of sun reflected from the airship, broken in the desert, as he navigated the plane over it, ignorant of the whereabouts of the pilot. Sometimes he felt the despair he’d felt when he’d been held captive by crocodiles on the banks of a far off muddy river. Then his mind would shift again and he would find himself at home with his partner Sunday by his side and then he would remember that she had died and then he would mourn her all over again.

            Into the mist of all these reminiscences and sensations swirling in his brain came an impression of Ektek but it was not a sight familiar to Crawf. It was a view from the sea. It was not Crawf’s normal aspect, as a creature of the sky, and Crawf understood immediately that a whale was communicating with him and that he did not have to do anything but let his mind open. Since he was thirsty for communication of any kind, Crawf immediately let himself remember Gleam, Gumfluff and, from them, his mind pictured Antenna, Hod and Bash. All the Ektek crew were remembered and shared in this most pleasant of understandings.

Crawf was not sure why he was able to communicate with the whale – this had previously been beyond his capabilities – and he imagined it must be Smacker himself, a friend to Ektek. Crawf felt such an uplifting of his spirits as a result of knowing this he sent a rush of gratitude to the huge beast that must be drifting quietly just underneath the yacht. It felt wonderful to be in contact with Ektek, even as strangely as this.

            Smacker wondered if Crawf was looked after and Crawf was able to communicate the image of his seed tray and recently replenished water bubbler. However, he was less happy about the fact his beak had also been retaped while they were filling his food dish. Smacker informed him the yacht was nearly at their journey’s end. They were already in a harbour approaching a busy port. This must surely be his destination. That explained why the humans wanted him silent.

Smacker wondered why Crawf had chosen to make this journey. Crawf send images showing that he’d worked all his life for other creatures and serving the disadvantaged. Now he believed it was his turn to seek fulfilment, among his own tribe. Crawf painted a wonderful picture of living among the Palm cockatoos in dream family existence. If only …

            Smacker sympathised and hoped all would go well for Crawf. He was able to reassure him he was nearing his destination ­– Philavian. Smacker communicated that most of Philavian’s work was above board and very visible. Human tourists could visit the haven of bird life, and have their photos taken as they fed colourful birds. They could buy colourful feathers and even birds to take home as living pets. Philavian was a commercial world of colourful feathered friends. However, behind the colourful tourist façade operated another, more determined, moneymaking venture; a breeding centre for secret bird collectors, and Smacker feared that that was where Crawf was destined to be taken.

            Crawf shaped the thought that he was impressed by Smacker’s knowledge. Smacker replied that whales knew many things but that was their sorrow. To know is not the same thing as to have an effect. Smacker imparted wistful feelings; if only the waters were theirs to roam freely as in ancient days. So many interests and so many points of view crowded the world now that it was difficult for whales to live in such a teeming soup. Who knew what would join them in the brew next. A submarine? An island of shredded plastic? A ton of poison effluent? A fishing net over a mile long? A great missile fired from a factory ship sailing in formation with a team of other ships (ironically these were the very strategies learned from the tactics of killer whales). Smacker and his family were hard pressed keeping their heads open to approaching danger from all angles, evolving exit plans at all times.

            Smacker could not stay long in port, he was in danger even now. His parting thoughts were about saying hullo to the cat and then Smacker’s presence faded from Crawf’s head. Crawf wondered out-loud—Cat? What cat? But of course his beak was taped and all that came out was a gurgle.

 

 

II

Bash returned to consciousness in a rush. He was cooking. He was stinking hot. He was drying out. He could smell water nearby. He was still strapped into the plane and it appeared to be above the water somehow. Bash didn’t think about this. His only thought was that he had to get wet, urgently. He could only think of water. Water was essential. Nothing else mattered. He was panting and clumsy as he snapped out of his safety harness, clambered out of the window and climbed out onto the wing, all the time, water, insistent, water, throbbing, water, yearning, water, flooding his mind, his soul, his guts ... Get wet, get wet, absorb water, now, now, now, and he leapt as far as he could off the wing, flew over the mud and plunged into blessed water.

The water was fresh and cool and his skin quickly returned to froglike and he swam through the water effortlessly and it was whole-heartedly, skin-full, marvellous. He was in no particular rush to get back into that heat again and he stayed where he was, relieved to be swimming, even chewing some delicious silage just to top off his satisfaction.

As he swam, recollections of flight and of fighting solidified in his mind. He remembered aiming at the hunter and he remembered seeing the shooter’s eyes, the whites of his eyes and then he remembered an impact and a tumult and then… Nothing. What had happened to him?  Of course, this was no game. He’d been shot. He realised how lucky he was to be alive. He’d been shot down by real pellets and he had real consequences to face.

As his memories clarified he realised he’d best return to the little plane and assess the damage. He knew he was far from Bedlam and he’d have to contact a beetle. Of course, the beetle might not get heard when it returned to the crowded hangar but it was the only thing a frog in the wilderness could do to get rescued. Bash knew it was time to get out of the pond and get serious.

As he came closer to the edge of his puddle of lake he realised that what he had taken for a boulder on the shore was moving. The boulder moved to where Bash was going to climb out of the water. The boulder lowered its head to the very edge of the water and Bash stared at it from under the surface. Bash then understood, at the same moment, that the boulder was in fact a large ginger cat, easily within reach and that Bash was about to become lunch. Strangely, though, as Bash backwatered frantically, the boulder cat made no effort to swipe at him. The cat sat as if it were waiting for him. Waiting for Bash? A cat?

Then Bash cautiously rose to the surface again, took another, closer, look at that cat and wondered. Then he broke the meniscus and indeed, bizarrely, his hunch had proved true. He swam to the water’s edge and said to the ginger cat—How many lives have you got left?

            —Could ask you the same question, cobber.

            Bash climbed out of the water and sat in the shade of a coolibah tree—Your whiskers have grown.

—Ta, mate. Bluey stretched out in the sun nearby, close enough to chat if need be. They sat together companionably for a time before Bash asked—What happened to me?

            —You got taken for target practice. At least, the plane was. Downed into the lake. I just happened …

            —Just happened?

            —Too right, mate. I fished you out. No problem, said Bluey. Then he changed his mind—Oh, I tell a lie; it was a bit of a problem. Had to get wet, didn’t I. I resent getting wet, seriously hate it, but seeing as it was you, I got over it.

            —Did I say thank you?

            —Bit drowned, you were. Hung you out to dry, over there, see?

            Bash looked over at the little plane, which was indeed hanging to dry in the sun in a small shrub, tilted so any water could run out. No wonder he’d been hot.

            Thank you.

            —No worries, mate. I owed you one. Though I’d say me debt’s all clear. That’s twice I’ve taken a bath for you Ektek lot. Even though, hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m acutely grateful to you for not being hooked in that bastard cage any more.

            Bash thoughtfully wiped the last of the juicy mosquito he’d nabbed out of the air off his chin—The other?

            —Crawf.

            —Crawf?

            —Yeah, you know, your cockatoo? Out on a yacht in the middle of the sea? Had a pirate infestation, the rats and me had to take it all a bit serious and I got meself dropped overboard in all the drama.

            —Crawf?

            —Don’t think he even knew about it. We got rid of them and the smugglers sailed on.

            —Leaving you behind…

            —In the drink. But I climbed up onto a bit of some plastic drum or something quick smart, well, given the large fin that cruised past, I shot out like a rocket, I don’t mind telling you I don’t think I’ve ever moved so expeditiously and, anyway, after a bit of time in the hot sun, chewing on a fish or two that wandered by, that brought me over here.

            —Lucky. For me, as well.

            —Don’t go on about it, mate. Could get embarrassing.

            So Bash didn’t and the two companions dozed again for a moment or two. The lake water lapped at the edges of the reeds, the air was mild in the shade and Bash snapped awake with a guilty jump—Bluey? I’ve got to get back.

            —Yeah, of course, look, I don’t think you’ll be flying that… She’s onkus.

            They both looked over at the little plane. It was riddled with tiny holes from shot pellets – some embedded still in the surface of the wings – some holes you could see sky right through the entire workings.

            No, said Bash—Guess not.

            I reckon I can carry you.

            No need, said Bash—I’ll call a beetle.

            —What about them number queues they were all jabbering about? Don’t they take them in order? When do you think they’d get to your beetle?

            —It was a long flight to get here.

            —It’ll be a longer walk then.

            —I could still call a beetle.

            —Nah, let’s crack on. Though, I do have a slight complication…

            —What? said Bash, dreading the answer.

            You mean; ‘who?’ Me girlfriend.

            —You old dog, said Bash.

            Hardly, said Bluey.

 

 

III

Antenna lay asleep in the numbat enclosure. She appeared completely dead to the world. She’d been working around the clock for what seemed days on end and even her dreams were full of Ektek business. The numbat children were talking to their mother – who knew the stress that Antenna was under – asking when Antenna would be up, ready to play. The mother shushed the kids saying—Leave the poor creature alone. She needs her rest, children.

            When Antenna eventually did turn over and twitch awake, it was not youngsters wanting to play. She had a beetle whispering in her ear. It was Spark and he hissed—Have you seen it?

            —What?

            —Get up. Look.

            Groggily, Antenna got to her feet and came to the front edge of the numbat enclosure as guided by the Christmas beetle.

            Look up.

            Antenna did as she was told and when she’d wiped the sleep out of her dark striped eyes she absolutely gasped in surprise. For there, hovering in full view above the zoo, was the airship—What are they doing?

            —I don’t know.

            As they watched, the cargo hold opened and something began to be lowered to the ground. It was rectangular in shape and lowered jerkily down to the enclosure outside the vet’s building. As it came down lower, Antenna and Spark could see there was a creature inside – bigger than both of them but smaller than Gleam. It had dark coloured fur and filled the cage almost completely. The cage was built of heavy iron bars. The bars were thick and rusty. Up in the airship something snagged on the winch and one of the ropes held too short. The cage jolted and tilted at a frightening angle. The creature trapped in the cage moaned as it slid to one corner. It was a piteous sound.

            Antenna sighed. This was too dreadful. The living creature was squashed into that cage and when it moved even Spark let out a surprised squeak – and that was saying something because nothing much had surprised Spark lately – both numbat and Christmas beetle saw the snout and the eye of a bear. The cage continued its uneven descent and finally clonked onto the ground. Then, from their vantage points all around the vet’s building, hundreds of beetles, Spark among them, flew to unlatch the catches holding the ropes to the rusty cage. The airship winch wound up the ropes and floated quietly away, presumably to the Ektek hangar.

            Antenna waited impatiently, surrounded now by the other numbats, staring after the airship. They all knew that Eid had decided to run his own action and they were generally just a little proud of his initiative but they didn’t like to rub Antenna’s nose in it. There was something about that Eid, they thought. He was destined for great things.

            When Spark returned to the numbat enclosure and alighted on a rock near Antenna, she almost spat in her eagerness to hear his report—What?

It’s a bear. Doesn’t look well.

            —What were they thinking?

            —The human vet is already in attendance and not looking up at all. They’re only concerned for the bear.

            —One of those humans is bound to look up.

            —I don’t think they’re interested. They only care about her.

            —What about security?

            —I’ve asked a couple of pals to keep an eye on them and so far they just seem to think it was a normal zoo delivery.

            —You’re saying they could get away with it?

            —Amazing though it seems, they just might.

            —Oh, what would I give to be there now. Would I give them a piece of my mind

            —I’ll go see what’s happening, shall I?

            —You’d better tell them to expect me. I’ll be there as soon as we get shut down.

            —I’ll tell them.

            —Come back and let me know what’s going on…

            Antenna was anxious to get down to the hangar and see Eid, and Torque of course, for herself. Why did she have to be on display now? This was awful. The mother numbat shooed her two children away from Antenna, fearing her frustration might get taken out on them. She stood beside the jumpy numbat and, after a time, laughed quietly at her irritation—I told you he’d be back.

            —You didn’t mention the bear.

            —Anything Eid does is only to impress you, Antenna. He thinks very highly of you, you must know that. And I can tell you, Eid isn’t one to play with anyone’s affections lightly. Think about that before you chew his ear off.

            Antenna was certainly thinking of him. That was for sure. She had no idea what she was going to say to Eid but she knew it was going to be important. She had a feeling that what ever happened with Eid next would change her life. Absolutely.

 

 

IV

Bluey’s girlfriend returned from her hunting session in the wetlands to find Bluey and Bash sitting in the shade of a coolibah tree stripping reeds. She was a large bulbous cat. Her muscles had outgrown normal cat parameters. To Bash she looked more like one of the jaguars back at Bedlam and he decided he would give her the same respect he reserved for any other big cat; distance and plenty of it.

They had assembled a small pile of reeds around the little plane, which lay next to them on the ground. The reed bending and stripping was difficult work for untutored cat’s paws and Bash was really not any help at all, save being a good companion. They had not got very far in their plans. When they explained they intended to make a kind of backpack or harness which Bluey would wear while they walked back to Bedlam Zoo, she just laughed in their faces.

            Leave it to me, she said and left their shady spot with much the same kind of spring as that jaguar.

            Bash and Bluey looked at each other.

            What’s she up to? asked Bash.

            —Ah, she’s got a mind of her own, that one, said Bluey admiringly—We’d better follow her.

            They dropped their reeds, pleased to be rid of them, and followed the path of the she-cat. Bash rode on Bluey’s neck and they made good time after her fleet steps.

            After a short journey through the bush, Bluey cautiously approached what smelled like a human campsite. In a clearing, they could see his girlfriend, busy making friends. Bash could hardly believe his eyes—There she is!

Bash and Bluey nestled in close and peered out from behind a leafy shrub.

—But what’s she doing? Bash was astounded to see her standing on a dog’s back as though she stood on dogs’ backs every day. The dog did not seem to be upset, in fact, what Bash was about to witness was nothing at all like an upset dog.

Bluey whispered—Poor bastard can’t groom himself through all the mud and he’s getting annoyed by all those mozzies so, what’s a creature to do?

Get a back scratch, it seemed and there she was, that giantess of a cat, scratching the big brown dog’s hindquarters. She must have partially sheathed her pin-like claws because she was briskly scratching the bird dog as though she were digging a hole in his back in which to do her business. After a bit of this he lay down – or rather he kind of flopped down – and she moved acrobatically to keep balance with him, as if she were a circus lion running on a large coloured ball, as he hit the ground. She was now able to work on his side and she did so with aplomb. When she hit ‘that’ nerve, his leg went into an automatic running reflex and his face dissolved into an incredibly silly grin. The dog seemed to have lost all reason and became what Bash could only describe as ‘ga ga doglally’.

—How can she do that? said Bash.

Bluey thought for a moment—She grew up on a farm.

Without too much further fuss, the she-cat, with the help of the grateful dog, was able to sneak them on board a huge four-wheel drive – grey, shining, new, stuffed with muddy men dressed in bulky camouflage, together with their guns and carrying on like a flock of galahs. They kept their dog in the front of the vehicle with them, and every now and then he’d look back through the little rear window and stare at them. The agreement between cats, frog and the dog was simple. If they kept out of sight, he’d bark when it was safe for them to leave the truck when they arrived in a built up area. If they let themselves be seen by a human all bets were off and he’d have to chase them. Bluey and Bash had agreed this was fair enough and hoped like billy-oh they wouldn’t get seen.

In the back of the vehicle, the blokes had piled tents, cold storage bins, camouflage and their booty, all covered with a flapping blue tarpaulin. Bluey had been able to pass the little plane up to his girlfriend into the back of the truck unnoticed. She stacked it beside the feathered payload. Bash clung to Bluey’s neck and they jumped up into the tray and buried themselves. Then they lay, two cats and a frog, hidden under a heap of dead ducks. The flopping birds were all the colours of the rainbow, their feathers incandescent. Their blood served as moisturiser for a sore frog. All they could hope was that the humans were going somewhere near their zoo and that no human looked back. They were in for a ride anyway, wherever they went.

As the engine started up and the four-wheel drive hit the dirt road, the two cats made no bones about feasting on a waterfowl each, and Bash, figuring the birds were already dead after all, just moved away from the cats while they ripped and gnawed at the flesh until they were full and tried not to think about them. Then they lay back, made themselves comfortable and snored. Bash must have slept for a while too. He woke again when the dirt road changed to a smoother faster journey and the wheels changed cadence, humming along. He watched the cats for a while until he realised that Bluey was also awake – watching him with that bizarre one eye.

They looked at each other for a moment before Bluey asked—What do you reckon me chances are?

—What for? asked Bash.

Getting back in to Ektek.

Bash didn’t know how to tell him he thought his chances were nil. He crumpled up his little frog forehead and worried before he said—Um, it’s difficult, isn’t it. I mean, the facts are … Well, to put it bluntly … No one likes cats, Bluey. You know that.

—I know, I know. It’s, well, it’s just such a hard life on the street, you know?

—You’re not on the street.

—Out here? Pedant, are ya? I’m telling ya, still nasty in woop woop, mate. Got to keep out of them foxes’ way, there’s goats and pigs and all these sharp shooters gunning fer yer. Never get a moment’s peace. Not to mention hunting all the time. You wouldn’t believe how exhausting it is trying to get tucker. What I wouldn’t give for the sound of a tin opener and a spoon hitting the side of an easy feed. Saw a fox cracking into a duck egg, easy as, so that’s been a blessing …

—Not for the ducks.

—No, well, they got their own problems, don’t they, but Bash, you know, the main thing is, look at her. She’s going to have kittens …

—Yours?

—Who else? Cheeky blighter …

Bash didn’t think the cats should stay at Ektek. He knew full well no one else would either so he watched the cats in silence. Maybe they might be able to find them a home of sorts. At least they were travelling in the right direction at the moment. They’d see when they got there. Where ever that was ...

The she-cat groaned as she re-settled herself. She was huge, bulging and a green fire flashed in her eyes that screamed at Bash—You’re a snack! Tasty nibblet! One day, you’re going to be all mine! Crunch, crunch, lunch …

Bash turned away, made sure Bluey was between him and her and he sincerely hoped that heap of ducks would last till they got somewhere where they could work out where they needed to be. He studiously avoided looking at the great she-cat and made himself think good happy thoughts.

The truck droned on and on and on, but to where? They’d find out soon enough. The corroboree frog settled down to an uneasy snooze, slimy and damp with blood from the dead.

 

 

V

Antenna ran down the tunnel to the control cave. There was no one there. If she’d been thinking clearly she might have noticed there was no one in the tunnels either. All she knew was she could feel something was wrong. The hangar was silent. Everything was still. She raced to the airship and climbed the rope ladder up into the body of the craft. There she found a group of beetles standing quietly in the cargo hold. They were all very serious. Antenna looked at each of them and saw Mandible was among them. She asked her—What?

            Mandible replied—Torque.

            Where? said Antenna.

            In the cockpit.

            Antenna ran to the cockpit to find Gleam and Hod already there, standing with Eid. They were looking at the console where Torque was lying on a makeshift cot. He must have slept there for the duration of their long journey. He was looking frail and weak. It was clear this was the end of his pilgrimage.

            Beside him was Spark. He was trying to stop himself from weeping. He was unsuccessful. He continually sniffed and gasped for each tearful breath. 

            Torque looked up at the young beetle who had worked beside him for so long and whispered—More than my job’s worth to see all you … Glum bum. Take care … Of each other, won’t you?

            Don’t you dare, Torque. Spark said, choking within his crying—You’re getting better, do you hear me? Who else is going to tell me what to do?

            Torque sighed and turned in his little bed as though in some pain. When he regained his composure he cleared his throat and said quietly—You’ve been telling yourself what to do for long enough now. After a further bout of strength gathering he started again—We all have our time, young flibberty gibbet. Make sure … His voice faded and his eyes dulled. He seemed to be slipping away …

            Spark caught his own breath and leaned forward as if to will Torque to keep living. Slowly Torque did indeed inhale and focussed on Spark again—You’re a good beetle, my little friend. You’ve got first-rate grit. Then, before his breath gave out again, he added in a rush—Look after Antenna.

            Antenna stepped forward and with a game effort at rallying humour said—I don’t need looking after. She didn’t feel very funny and no one laughed.

            Spark looked up at her, a tiny jewel of tear welling in his eye and admonished her—We’ll do what he wants.

            Of course, concurred Antenna.

            Torque coughed violently, obviously in pain. Everyone leaned in to him, as if to tend him and when they all realised they could do nothing to help him, like a wave they all moved back again. Torque called up his last strength from the bottoms of his tiny toes and said, very quietly, with enormous effort—You’re all smart enough, and then he muttered something else. After he’d spent this final effort it seemed he was empty for he lay down his head and sighed. His body slumped to one side, the shine went from his elytron and he was gone.

            Spark leaned his head forward and then, taking a huge breath in, he leapt to his feet and flew. He flew directly at Eid, hovered in front of the now alarmed numbat and shouted—It’s all your fault. He was too old. He should never have gone on your abortive action. You killed him. You should be ashamed of yourself! You used him up and sucked him dry! Then, shockingly, Spark hoicked up some spit and gobbed, right in Eid’s face. Then the Christmas beetle flew quickly through the airship, out into the warm evening air, leaving Eid wiping a teeny tiny drop of spit off his face.

            Antenna was watching Eid. She was surprised when he returned her look. They held the shared gaze, solemnly looking at each other with no titivations, judgements, or expectations, just clear understanding and knowledge. This was no time to play games, no time for niceties. It was as if they were the only two in the airship, the only two numbats in the world and they too, with unspoken agreement, turned and left the airship. Together.

            Gleam and Hod watched as the couple walked past the assorted beetles, climbed down the rope ladder and went into the Ektek caves together. They seemed to grow closer as they travelled. As they entered the hangar their shoulders touched by chance and they turned to look at each other with some surprise. Perhaps the electricity had stunned them. They stayed together, looking, just for a moment. It was as if they drank each other in. Then they disappeared into the shadows.

            Mandible flew up to sit beside Torque’s body—What did he say at the end? We heard him say: ’You’re all smart enough …’ but not the next bit. What was that?

            Hod stared out of the cockpit windscreen at the hangar, now still again—He said, ‘We’re all vulnerable’.

            Really? said Gleam—I thought he said, ‘Behave honourably’.

            Mandible looked down at the loyal old darkling beetle and sighed—Goodbye, old collie jobs-worth. We’re going to miss you. Never could work out what you were talking about half the time. She looked up at the group of beetles standing by, indicated the darkling beetle with a flick of her antenna, and said—Come on, let’s get him out of here.

            As the beetles tended to their dead elder, Gleam turned to Hod—I rather think Torque would have been more likely to exhort us to honour, don’t you?

            He was on his deathbed. Hod stared at the tiger—What greater reminder of vulnerability do you want?

            They were going to have to agree to disagree and, as it was doubtful these two would ever agree on anything much, perhaps they would simply continue to disagree.

            Gleam and Hod both started to move through the cargo hold. Gleam looked over to the exit to the rope ladder—After you, he said with just a trace of sarcasm. He didn’t mean it in a nasty way, it was an accident; it just came out like that.

            Hod stared at him—We can always ask Antenna. What she heard, I mean.

            Gleam paused for a while, then raised one of his eyebrows—Later.

            Oh, yes, said Hod, understanding him completely—Much later.

            Now, both creatures smiled.

Only they both knew there was more to come in the story and it was highly unlikely the ending could ever be happy.

 


Chapter Thirteen

 

I

Seated at the computer desk, Antenna stared wistfully into space.

            Gumfluff entered the control centre and greeted her—Ahoy, Antenna! But the numbat didn’t even look up. The screens immediately in front of her were blank. She was definitely in a profound daydream. This behaviour was entirely unlike the normally ever-present Antenna and sent shivers of worry through those observing her.

The large koala lumbered over to stand next to Gleam and they both watched the dozy numbat while she did absolutely nothing at all—What’s up with her?

            Gleam said—Missing Eid.

—Eid?

Haven’t you heard? said Hod, who, in contrast to Antenna, sat in front of an active monitor, clicking away on a control system for all he was worth. He was checking the Bedlam Zoo website for news about pandas and shaking his head over the incredible amounts of money being used to landscape the pandas’ new enclosure—It's the only thing anyone talks about these days. Have you seen how much money these pandas are costing?

Been at sea, Hod, said Gumfluff—Out of the loop when you’re looking into the deep.

They can’t be seen in the same place together, Gleam attempted to clarify Antenna’s problem for the koala—Eid and Antenna. They share the display work. When he’s on, she’s off. Means they can’t have much time. Very difficult when you’re young …

            —Oh well. Can’t do anything about that right now. Got some news, Antenna, from Crawf.

            Antenna! said Gleam, loudly—Gumfluff’s heard from … Smacker is it?

            Yup. Smacker’s come through once again. Crawf’s heading to a bird-breeding farm. We know where he is ...

            Hod jumped up and hopped toward her—Can you get us there?

 — … and we can get you there.

—Thanks, Gumfluff, managed Antenna. This news was enough to bring her attention back to business—Did Smacker say how Crawf was?

When can we go? asked Hod—How long would it take to launch Intek? Ignoring his determination, the others kept on with what he obviously thought was extraneous discussion.

Reasonable spirits. Kept in the dark. Lonely. Much as you’d expect from a prisoner.

—He wants to find his family, said Antenna—I didn’t understand what he was on about at first but now ...

—He’s part of Ektek, said Hod—We can’t afford families. We have to rescue him.

—That’s easy for you to say. You’ve got at least three families of your own plus some surrogates …

—There’s no need to go into my personal life.

—It is relevant, said Antenna.

—Can we not give him some time? asked Gleam—We might be able to get beetle surveillance into the facility.

—He’ll have had plenty of time, said Hod—We’ll rescue any other Palm cockatoos we see, how’s that?

Gumfluff looked up at the ceiling of the cave where the glow-worms clustered so helpfully and sighed. Ektek. Always discussions. Always consensus. Took far too much time out of her life. This was why she preferred being at sea, onboard the Ektek vessel, Intek, doing something, going somewhere. She said—Can we agree that you may at some point require the use of Intek?

—It’s not certain, said Antenna.

—You know how I hate last minute decisions, said Gumfluff. She turned to march back into her marine world—Let me know. ASAP.

Antenna waited until Gumfluff had left before she spoke again—Hod, you’re going to have to cool down. There are many creatures that need help right now.

—Yes, yes, but they’re not Crawf, said Hod—They’re not part of Ektek. We need him. And he very probably needs us.

—What about Bash? said Gleam—He was due back hours ago. What’s happened to him, Hod? With his machine guns? That you made for him?

Antenna focussed on the wallaby—Hod? You made guns?

Hod looked from Gleam to Antenna and back again before he looked down at the ground—I was helping him.

—With that kind of help … Gleam shook his head.

—Any idea where to start looking for him? asked Antenna—Can we find the number?

—I’ll go ask Manifold.

—And Hod?

—Yes.

—Before you help anyone else, can you stop and think for a moment?

—I’m sure Bash will be fine.

—Are you?

 

 

II

The truck clunked to a stop. The engine turned off. Silence. Bash looked over at Bluey. Suddenly both cats were wide-awake and both instantly pressed into the darkest corners of the truck. The tarp flicked back and a wave of daylight and another wave of carousing man-galah cackles hit them. The shooters were out of the truck and grabbing stuff from the luggage tray. Bash shivered underneath a bloody duck wing as the blokes heaved out a cold storage bin and another bag. They lifted a couple of ducks off the pile and then flicked the tarp back down.

            The dog started to bark and the humans joined in too, bawling and carrying on as if they were a pack. The noise faded away.

            Go! said Bluey and almost immediately the she-cat leapt down and Bluey was heaving the little plane out of the truck and down to the ground. Bash clung to Bluey’s neck, getting spiked in his delicate frog skin with that short ginger hair, and they were out and dashing along hard concrete.

            They headed for a small line of little shrubs up near a wall. They sheltered in among the rubbish that littered the little strip. While they recovered, breathing hard and rubbing bruises, they took stock of their situation. They appeared to be at a refuelling station. The blokes had gone inside the building, except for one who was holding the dog on the end of a piece of string and walking him around the withered plant life at the boundaries of the refuelling place. The dog kept sending them glances but appeared to be leading its human off in the opposite direction. Bash eyed the she-cat with admiration. That must have been one exceptional back scratch.

            Are we there yet? said the she-cat.

            We’re closer, said Bluey, utilising his extra-sensory cat sense of direction and distance—Much closer.

            Bash wasn’t satisfied with that—But not close enough. He was still nowhere near home as far as he was concerned.

            —Okay. What about that one?

            Before Bash or Bluey could give her an answer, she was out in the open, sprinting toward a van, which happened to be pointing in the right direction. She was full of tricks, this one, thought Bash. She jumped at the rear doors of the white van, performing some kind of twisting action as she did so and the doors flew open. She looked over to Bash and Bluey and they ran, Bluey dragging the little plane along with him. She ran back over to help him and between them they managed to throw the plane into the van, wait until Bash climbed up Bluey’s neck, and jumped in. Then, as she left the ground, she swung the van door to. It did not click closed – hopefully it would as they went around a corner or something – or everything would fall out of the van and they would all be doomed.

            They had barely got inside when the van started. It swerved out of the refuelling station, around the corner to the exit and as it veered the door swung wide open. The terrified animals clung on to whatever they could reach, staring helplessly out at the row of cars parked at the refuelling station shop. Then, as the van moved out into the traffic, the door flapped a couple of times, swung back and slammed shut with a bang. They breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe. They sat back and relaxed.

            That was, until Bash found himself shivering. Where he was sitting was hard. It had felt refreshingly cool before the door slammed shut. Now, almost immediately, it felt like a winter’s day, a very cold winter’s day in a very cold climate and a chilly drowsiness started to come over him. He crawled slowly over to Bluey and up the cat’s back to his neck. The little frog nestled into the soft fur under the cat’s chin and shivered some more. Then he said—Bluey? You cold?

            —Cold? I’m freezing. Bluey spoke slowly. It sounded as though he too was drowsy.

            We’ve got to get out! shouted the she-cat and she rushed at the door. It had no handle. She scrabbled round the edges of the door and at the hinges. She turned and stared at them—We’re in a refrigerated truck! We’re going to freeze to death!

 

 

III

At the back of the vet’s building was a secure and private enclosure for the use of sick animals in recovery. It currently housed the bear rescued by Eid and Torque; the airship bear. Although the bear was out of her cage, in the fresh air, on dirt surrounded by leafy greenery, she slumped in a curved mound, hardly moving, eyes closed.

            Shining Teeth had taken it upon herself to go where no crocodile had been before, certainly not voluntarily. Always adventurous, she’d heard about the airship bear and thought she’d like a close up look to see what all the fuss had been about. She sidled through the Ektek tunnels and up to the vet’s compound. It was only a matter of minutes before she dug through the rock garden into the enclosure. She paused, gathered her breath, wiped the clay out from between her claws and strode out into the enclosure. She wandered up to the curved mound of bear as if she were perusing an interesting exhibit in a sculpture garden.

            The moon bear did not move as the reptile with very big teeth approached. She did see the crocodile but she didn’t feel the need to move. She had never seen one before. She could see it was a dangerous animal, the bear wasn’t stupid, but she was depressed. They stared at each other for a good long while before they were interrupted by shouting—What are you doing here, Shining Teeth? It was Eid and he was flustered—Get out of there, she’s in quarantine! Who knows what germs she’s brought with her! This is the vet’s compound, didn’t you know?

            Shining Teeth merely looked at the numbat with something like amused distain—If I am still alive after everything I’ve been through it’s going to take more than a little germ to get me.

            Still, no need for unnecessary risks, said Eid, dodging back out of her way as she turned toward the tunnel she’d dug out—I mean, I’ve already had contact with her, so, I might be developing something right now; a disease never before seen in these parts. You’ve got to be careful.

            —Bear flu, said Shining Teeth—Hope you get it bad.

            Eid’s heart sank when he saw what a mess the croc had made with her digging. He’d have to try to cover that up too.

            Shining Teeth didn’t bother with any further chitchat. She simply swept out of his way and disappeared down the tunnel with a flick of her serrated tail. After he was sure she’d gone, Eid shook his head to clear it of terror and tried to meditate his heart rate down. He started picking up the clay chunks and rocks littered around Shining Teeth's tunnel. He’d have to rebuild it as best he could and notify the beetles about the breach. Even the most stupid of humans would easily see these diggings and Ektek was vulnerable enough already without a big glaring signpost pointing straight into the tunnel system. As he tidied up Shining Teeth’s mess, he tried to make conversation with the bear—You are in quarantine. I didn’t make that up. That’s why you’re so far away from everyone else. But at least you can get up and go for a walk if you want to. I mean, you don’t have to or anything but it might be nice, feeling the ground under your feet, not iron bars, sun on your back, fresh air… Eid tailed off. Conversation was generally regarded as a two way kind of thing but the bear didn’t seem to be interested in him at all. Eid was not yet ready to give up—They treating you all right? He saw her uneaten food lying on the ground nearby—Getting enough to eat?

            Once he’d patched up the ground again, Eid put himself inside the tunnel and, before he sealed up the gap, continued his attempts at communication. He felt responsible for this little bear. Antenna was on duty in the numbat enclosure so he was at a loose end, ready for a chat, but he couldn’t seem to get through to the moon bear at all. When they’d been on the airship it had been the same. He had stared into her eyes of deepest pain and not known what to say then. Now he tried all the normal gambits: names, weather, how are yous, but they all fell; inadequate, unanswered and irrelevant. After some time of sitting in the tunnel in silence he mentally slapped himself, he was the healthy one after all, and said—You must feel better now, though? They got that thing out of your side? I know it was a bad trip but I couldn’t work out how to save you otherwise. I just had to winch you up and fly you away, cage ‘n’ all. Depends how you look at it, doesn’t it. I mean, we’re all in cages of one sort or another, aren’t we, but that was some awful crate you were in. Wasn’t it? The bear said nothing except a little grunt. It wasn’t clear if she grunted at him or maybe she just felt a twinge of pain. Assuming it was a response he went on—You can talk to me, you know. The bear flashed him a miserable look and Eid thought perhaps that was encouraging. Maybe he was getting through to her. He went on—Look, I know this isn’t perfect; it’s not your family or anything like what you’re used to but you’re safe and you’ll heal in no time. Then you’ll be able to move around comfortably and no one will make demands from you. Hey, at least you’re not dead.

            Still she said nothing. Eid sighed again before he eventually continued—Torque is. Dead, I mean. My friend who helped rescue you. I don’t know if you had much to do with him on the trip. He was getting pretty weak by the time we got to you. Old age I think. He was still active right to the end, though. Always interested, knew all the answers, find them out if he didn’t, tried to look out for everyone. Now he’s gone and I think he was a bit, well, undervalued? He helped me, though. Really helped me. I don’t know if I ever really said ‘Thank you’. Helped me get the best female in the world. I’m so lucky. Have you met her yet? Looks a lot like me. She knows all about you. We’ve been following the vet’s records. We know they removed that valve from your gall bladder. We know you got put on antibiotics for the infection. We know you won’t eat much. They’re trying to find out where you came from. This zoo doesn’t keep moon bears; just the brown. They probably told you, but who can understand those humans, eh? They’re trying to find you a new home, some kind of sanctuary or zoo that already has your family. So you can join a community. Other bears to look out for.

            The bear stood up. Eid was so surprised he jumped and hit himself on the wall of the tunnel. He knocked down some rocks and had to fix up the breach again. By the time he looked back at her she was moving away from him. It was arduous work for her, standing, and she wobbled a bit. She was in pain, that much was obvious, and she couldn’t balance very well. As she walked, or rather, stumbled, to her night quarters at the back of the vet’s area Eid felt a jolt of shock. She was missing a paw. Her right forepaw had been amputated. It was an old injury – completely healed over now – but Eid still found it dreadful to see. She limped away from him, looking as if she might fall at any moment. She went to the doorway and began to pace in front of the window next to it; a horrible tortured lumbering over a space of a few metres. Back and forth she went, over and over again, past the window, signalling to those inside, obviously desperate to get in to the vet’s rooms.

            Eid stood, watching her, filled with useless pity.

            Finally the door unlocked with a click and swung open. She was allowed inside. Just before she went in she looked over to the crevice where he had sealed himself into the tunnel and stared hard. Did she see him? She said in a voice rusty with neglect—What am I doing here?

—Nothing, said Eid in his most reassuring tones—You don’t have to do anything …

I’m just one big problem. She went on as if he hadn’t spoken— Before, I had a purpose. As she entered the doorway she called back to him in a voice hard as little pebbles raining on corrugated iron—Thanks for nothing.

            Eid stared at the closed door for a hard moment and then bowed his head. He was rocked by shame and a kind of unspeakable epiphany. He realised he’d only gone to follow that beetle’s dance injunction out of selfishness: because he was thinking of his own personal happiness; his desire to be with Antenna. And it had worked, there was no denying that. Antenna was clearly the love of his life, his numbat mate and because of that trip, she saw him now, really saw him. She had admitted him into her heart and her life in every way and Eid couldn’t be happier. Until now.

            He’d wanted to be truly useful to Ektek. He’d wanted to save this bear from her suffering and he’d wanted to give her some kind of life. Only now, it seemed, that’s not what this particular bear had in mind. He imagined that Torque might have said ‘Did you get the wrong bear?’ and Eid thought he might have because there had been so many; each in their heavy iron cage, each with their streams of bile dripping into little pots …

            Eid shook his head. Surely she would have a better life now? In time she’d get used to it? She’d been rescued. She was free. Wasn’t she?

 

 

IV

Crawf was wakened by a great banging and clanging. He was still in the dark, trying to doze in his usual timeless state of caged reverie. A real wallop hit the side of the yacht, right next to Crawf’s head. He was startled then, wide-awake and, as he had done every time he’d woken while in this dark hole in the wall, he tried to remember where he was. Once his beating heart had slowed and his mind had caught up to what he was doing once again, he sat on his perch and listened to the thuds and booms of action topside. Things had changed. They were no longer rolling from side to side. These sounds of action and movement were different. What was going on?

            Salty squeezed into the cage and ran up the side to talk to the bird.

            We’ve arrived. They’re just making her fast, said Salty—Hop down and I’ll loosen off your beak for you. Make you a bit more comfortable while they get sorted out there.

            The large cockatoo wearily stepped down onto the floor of his cage. It was too tight for him to move easily. He was stiff and sore but hearing the continual wacks and smashes coming from above gave him renewed energy. He’d arrived. Soon he’d be able to see his family. Soon, he’d be at home.

            Salty skittered up to the perch and set about chewing the tape from Crawf’s head artfully—Not too long now. You’ll be right as rain, matey.

            Once free, Crawf bent his head up to the water bubbler and took in a large gobble with his blunt tongue nuzzling the drops down his gullet.

            Salty sat on the perch on his hindquarters watching the bird—Not just you disembarking, mate. Me as well. Time to settle down after all me seafaring years. I’ve got a girl in this port I reckon might take me in. She’s got a nice little nest not too far from the docks, still be able to sniff the sea for breakfast. That last run-in with the pirates did it for me.

            —Pirates? said Crawf—What pirates?

            —There you go. We saw them off, your cat and us …

            —What cat?

            Something slammed hard into the deck above them and Salty’s answer was lost in the reverberations.

            Whillickers, they’re careless up there!

            —What cat? repeated Crawf, remembering Smacker’s mysterious image of a ginger cat somehow connected to Ektek.

That’s right, said Salty—The whale knew. The cat got chucked in the drink helping to protect you. That Ektek mob, they’re persistent, I’ll give them that.

—I’m retired from Ektek. I’ve got to meet my family. Make a new life. I don’t want to see Ektek again. Not a cat anyway. Not in the foreseeable future, anyway.

—Know what you mean, mate. Anyway, sounds like this old bucket’s tied up properly now. I’m off. Just popped in to wish you well. Hope it all works out for you, the dream, I mean.

—Same to you, Salty.

—Thanks, Big Grey, but somehow, matey, I think you’re going to need a lot more luck than me. Bon voyage, eh.

The rat slithered down to Crawf’s seed tray and grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds before disappearing through the bars. Crawf was alone again. He stared at the tiny strip of light coming in through the cabin wall and dreamed about his new family, the eggs they would have and how he’d look after everyone in their enormous nest in the empty tree in the verdant forest and how happy all his family would be together, at last.

 

 

V

Hod lay sleeping in the sun in the new yellow-footed rock wallaby enclosure. He was pleasantly dreaming about bounding to the top of a mountain with a magnificent view across the tops of high forest trees when through his dream state he could hear a kind of rise in the voices of his children that he’d not heard before. It was a new note of hysteria he did not like at all.

            —Dad! Dad! Dad!

            —Dad! Look!

            —Hey, Dad! They were almost screaming. In fact, yes, one of them was literally screaming. Screaming as if terrified.

            Reluctantly he opened his eyes and thought, if these joeys are playing some kind of dumb game I’m going to give them trouble like they’ve never had it before …

            Hod, called his first wife and he heard her very clearly—You have to deal with this … Right now. She had a particular tone of voice that brooked no argument. She only ever spoke when it was completely necessary. Hod understood it was completely necessary for him to move immediately. He stood, turned to face the hysteria and he saw all his children and all his wives clustered over to one side of the new and, as far as he could see, totally inadequate enclosure. The rocks had simply been piled up by an earth mover and they’d all felt dumped by the time the zoo’s landscape staff had spent a couple of hours raking it over. You could almost hear the workers saying ‘That’ll do’ but as no animal could ever understand the mad gibberish that came out of human’s mouths, well, it may or may not have been.

            Hod, already feeling dumped and belittled, was in no mood to discover his new yellow-footed rock wallaby enclosure had an uninvited guest but sadly, it was so. Shining Teeth, of all unwelcome beings, had invited herself for a visit. She’d crawled in from the Ektek tunnel system, and Hod understood from the looks he was getting from his wives, that he’d better move her out and quick smart. He jumped in front of his family and confronted her. To his family, he looked like a super-wallaby. But they had no idea of his travels and adventures with Ektek; no idea that he knew this crocodile and was, unfortunately, ‘friends’ with her. He figured what they didn’t know wouldn’t worry them and he liked the sense of having a completely separate life away from the petty concerns of children and food.

            Shining Teeth, however, greeted him cheerfully—Wondered where they were hiding you!

Hod replied in a cold voice—Don’t ever come here again.

—Oh, said Shining Teeth—Worried, are you? Scared for your tasty little family?

Hod was actually, completely terrified, but there was no way he’d let her see that. He said—Come on, and led her to the disguised exit to the tunnel system. He noted that she’d made a mess of her entry into his enclosure. He’d have to get the ants and beetles around to repair it. He thought, everywhere she goes this croc causes trouble. As they walked into the tunnel he said—What are you doing here?

—Seeing where you’d been moved. Catching up with an old mate. No big deal, really.

—You’re bored, aren’t you.

—Could say that.

—Okay. This is good.

—It’s good I’m bored?

—Well, I’m thinking you might be ready to be useful.

—Me? Useful? I don't get used, Hoddy. I use you, remember.

—Oh well, if you'd rather stay here and do nothing ...

—Spare me. What have you got in mind?

—A little sea voyage.

—Ah, lovely. Nothing like a cruise.

—That’s right. Nothing like it. We’re heading out to rescue Crawf.

Shining Teeth stopped in her tracks. Walking over land was an ungainly task for a crocodile. She was getting tired and more than a bit annoyed.

—Crawf? That bird that caused me so much trouble?

—Crawf. The Palm cockatoo, Crawf. Hod looked back at her. He was willing Shining Teeth away from his family. He could see them all there, watching him; particularly her, his long-suffering wife with her beautiful eyes. He’d fix that tunnel entrance to make it more difficult for the crocodile that was for sure. He may have been many things, but careless of the safety of his family, no, he was not that.

The crocodile continued—Should have eaten him when I had the chance. And that frog.

—See, there we go. Problem is, no one trusts you.

—Look, attack dogs are a menace. I was doing everyone a favour getting rid of them.

—You can’t do that if you come with us. You have to follow the team’s decisions.

—You want me to toe the line?

—Just follow common sense. Consensus.

—Oh, for agony’s sake. Consensus. I can tell you right here and now I won’t be listening to that pathetic tiger.

—Okay, then I guess you get to stay here and wander round the zoo making trouble for everyone until Ektek decide they’ve had enough of you and you’ll have to go.

—Really? Who’s going to make me?

—You’ll make a lovely pair of shoes one day.

Shining Teeth almost laughed. She hung her head and thought for a moment before she continued walking down the tunnel to the hangar—I don’t think I’m much of a team player.

—What about the harem? Weren’t you a team?

—Don’t mention the harem. She stopped again and sniffed. Hod was astonished to see a large tear plop on the tunnel floor. Was she crying crocodile tears over her harem? They were presumably long dead of radiation sickness by now. He didn’t think she had it in her.

—Come and talk to them. You’d be useful getting out of certain situations. Humans find it difficult to argue with an unexpected croc.

—Yeah. It’s all very well for you lot but what about me? What do I get out of it?

—I just told you. Variety. Interest. Keep your brain active.

            Hod didn’t care what he said to her but he knew he couldn’t be more relieved he’d moved her out of his enclosure and away from the joeys. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep her in control. He knew exactly how parlous his sense of control was.

 

 

VI

Spark was lying by Torque’s grave. It was just a little mound in the dirt, outside the hangar area, in the bush. Torque had been rather fond of banksias so that’s where the beetle team buried him, under an old banksia bush. Spark was still and quiet, apparently thinking about his old mentor, when Eid marched up to him and shouted—Are you or are you not in charge of Ektek security? Could you please tell me why Shining Teeth broke in to the vet’s enclosure and terrified the wits out of Gingseng?

            —Who?

            Gingseng. You know, that poor bear we brought home? Should you not be aware where Shining Teeth is at any given moment? Have you not got her under surveillance? If you haven’t, then, could you please tell me, why not?

            Spark looked up at Eid miserably. He was filled with sorrow and guilt that he had treated Torque in such a cavalier manner when he was still alive. He was not interested in Shining Teeth or in any of Eid’s accusations—Go away, he said to Eid—It’s all your fault.

            —It’s no one’s fault, Spark. Eid could see that Spark was sincerely sorry for Torque’s death. He crouched down beside the beetle. He didn’t have time for this but he did want to befriend Spark, knowing that as head of security, Spark was going to have to deal with Shining Teeth in the future—Torque was an old beetle. He died. He died doing what he wanted to do. It had nothing to do with me and it had nothing to do with you. But now you’re treating his memory like rubbish. You’ve got to maintain the standards that he set for this place. Otherwise what is left? Get up. Keep fighting. Keep up the energy. Don’t give up. Do you understand me? Get up and get going.

            Eid left Spark then and Spark wiped the tears from his eyes. He looked down at the little grave and then he stood up. Maybe Eid was right. He wasn’t being fair to Torque. He couldn’t give up. There was plenty of work to do around here. There were standards to maintain. More than his job’s worth to see the place go to rack and ruin.

 

 

VII

Hod and Shining Teeth stood looking at Antenna and Gleam in the control centre. The backdrop of flashing computer screens gave them a kind of halo. Hod was trying to convince them it was time to make Crawf’s rescue a reality—I know this is no time to leave my family, what with the new enclosure and the pandas, but I have to go. We need Crawf. I’m sorry about Bash. The number has moved on. I have no idea where to start looking for him. At least with Crawf, we know where he is.

            Anyone could see Antenna and Gleam were not convinced. Then Eid walked in.

            What are you doing here? said Antenna, knowing it was Eid’s turn to be on display.

             —I’m not staying long. I just want you to know that Shining Teeth is a menace.

            —Little old me?

            —Ri-ght … said Antenna, looking cautiously at Eid and then back to Shining Teeth.

            —That’s just what I’ve been saying, said Hod.

            Shining Teeth wasn’t so pleased—You should listen to yourselves.

—Okay. If we do go, Gleam has to go too. He can communicate with whales, said Antenna— … and he has a good sense of strategy.

— … and, said Gleam—I won’t work with Shining Teeth.

You know what, said Shining Teeth—I’m out of here. Let me know what you decide.

—Wait a minute, said Hod—How will we find you?

—Oh, I’ll be in touch. Shining Teeth departed with alacrity while Hod stood looking after her. He was vibrating with trepidation. When he was sure she’d gone, he said to Gleam and Antenna—That’s what I’m worried about. We need to know where she is.

I completely agree, said Eid—She was hassling Ginseng, the airship bear, from inside the vet’s compound. She had no business being there and she’d made a serious mess getting in. She has to be controlled.

So let’s get her out of the zoo, said Hod.

Eid looked from Hod to Gleam and then to Antenna—What’s going on?

Antenna said—Hod wants to take her out to rescue Crawf.

—She’d be good, said Hod—She knows how to frighten humans.

—She knows how to frighten everyone, said Eid—She has no place here. I’ve got to go. He turned to Antenna and smiled shyly—I’ll see you later. They shared a quiet look and he departed quickly.

Hod watched Antenna’s face as Eid left the cave and then said—He could come too. Give him something useful to do.

—He’s got something useful to do. Hod, continued Antenna—We can’t trust her.

—Isn’t that strange. That’s what you used to say about me.

—What do you mean, ‘used to’?

—You can trust me, Antenna.

—Can we?

—Yes.

—What’s loyalty mean to you, Hod?

Antenna and Hod looked at each other and in their shared history lay childish games at their parents’ feet, awkward political lessons and lost comrades. There was also that stinging burr of having left the team in the university car-park still surviving just under Hod’s skin and he wasn’t exactly sure who knew about that. Hod sighed before he tried to explain—At least if Shining Teeth is with us, we know what she’s doing.

—Keep your enemies where you can see them, agreed Gleam.

—She’ll be out of the zoo …

—I don’t know if that’s enough, said Antenna—You’re going to have to get her to agree to follow orders. We can’t afford to let her go on another killing spree.

—I’ll talk to her.

—And she’ll listen? No, Hod. We can’t be sure that crocodile will ever change, said Gleam—Not ever. We have to get rid of her.

—Betray her to the authorities? said Antenna—It feels wrong.

Feels right to me, said Gleam.

I can’t believe you, of all creatures, want to sacrifice a living being to the humans, said Hod, his voice rising in tone—After all your namby pamby peace-and-love talk. You’re no better than them.

—Hod, she’s the one who goes round killing other creatures for no reason, said Antenna—She’d probably be sent up to a farm. We’re not suggesting putting her down. How else can we get her under control?

—Let me try before you make up your minds.

Gleam and Antenna looked at each other. Gleam could only see a mental image of the crocodile decorated with far too much blood and gore standing over a keening dog and Antenna could only imagine what the tiger was feeling. She drew in a large breath and said—Talk to her but get her to understand. She can’t go if she’s going to cause trouble and she can’t stay here if she’s going to cause trouble. It’s her choice.

Instead of replying, Hod hopped out into the hallway before they could put up any further objections.

Gleam sighed and looked over at Antenna—How are you going to stop her?

—She might not want to go.

—Sea voyage, promise of carnage to rescue one of ours, what’s for her not to like?

 


Chapter Fourteen

 

I

Crawf looked around him in dismay. He had arrived in Philavian but he hadn’t been taken to the colourful bird fair. After farewelling Salty he’d spent what seemed hours, days, ages in suspense; probably because he thought they’d come for him any minute and they hadn’t. This last time of expectant waiting was by far the worst part of his trip. Finally, after all his patience, he had been ‘emptied’ out in the pitch of night, stuffed into a tube and carted uncomfortably to this place. He had no idea what had happened to his travel companions, the reptiles. They’d not had much to do with each other, locked in their separate isolation chambers. But now Crawf had no time for the past. He looked forward to the future, filled with anticipation and hope.

The dark side of Philavian was a huge place of interwoven wires, locks and bars; a place of heavy avian stench: feathers, guano, illness and chemicals. Thick bars on the outer wall boundaries – open to the air and the dawn light – and corridors upon corridors of thinner mesh cages. It felt as if it were raining but it was not. It was hot. Hot and wet and sultry and Crawf could feel the sauna air doing him good almost as soon as he was tipped out of the tube and into what must have been a holding cage.

From this cage, which was mercifully much larger than his hole in the yacht wall had been, Crawf could hear other birds, and, more to the point, other cockatoos. He could see the different birds through the wires of his side of the corridor of cages and he could see opposite him and along their side for some distance in both directions. Almost straight away he saw what he had been dreaming about for so long; the reason he had suffered the indignity of capture and discomfort in the wall of a yacht. He saw her.

Diagonally across from him was another Palm cockatoo, one of his own species. She was standing on a large branch stabbed through and across her cage. He sprang to the edge of his allotted space (rather awkwardly because he’d not had any exercise aboard the MsTree) and hooked his beak between the wires to enable him to climb the wall of the cage and get a better view. He opened his beak to shout at her but the shout did not eventuate. She was completely absorbed in what she was doing. She was dancing. Or so it seemed to begin with. It was a slow sinuous sort of sway, executed with a bow and a dainty bob at the end of the swing before the return along the branch. It was a regular dance and, as Crawf watched, never altered in rhythm or pace. She seemed hypnotised by the movement. Or was the movement a result of her hypnosis? Crawf watched her for ages and the dance was always the same. He drew in a deep breath and waved at her. She didn’t notice. He called—Hullo? Hullo? And she did not hear. He could see this Palm cockatoo had been incarcerated for a very long time and, as a result, she had decided to leave. At least, mentally, she was somewhere else. Crawf could see he would have to work very hard indeed to reach her. He had no choice but to try. He was determined she would be his friend, his mate, his kin and he said—Don’t worry. I’ll help you, no matter what. I’ll be here for you.

            She kept right on dancing, far off in a world of her own.

            Crawf leaned his head on the netting wall of his cage and tried not to cry. He’d find a way in time. That’s all it would take. Time. Well. He wasn't going anywhere.

 

 

II

It was getting late. The white van waited for the boom gate to rise. The boom gate was always down after hours. The driver waved at the security guard as he drove through the gate. The security guard made a cheerful, and possibly rude, gesture in return. Keeping carefully to the speed limit the driver made his way to the kiosk and parked by the delivery bay. He got out of the van and stretched his back. It had been a long drive and his back was never good. He felt that ergonomic beaded seat cover was making a difference, just a little bit. He scratched at his grey beard, went round to the van’s back door and pulled out the trolley. He loaded out the normal delivery for this kiosk and stacked the boxes one by one onto the little carrier. He tipped the weighty pile of cardboard boxes back onto the wheelie and rolled the load over to the back door. He parked the trolley and went round to the front to announce his arrival.

The driver left his load standing in those last shards of afternoon sun by the delivery door. Well, he’d only popped in to the kiosk for a tick, just to let them know he was there and they’d need to unlock the loading bay. Still, not really the best thing to do for frozen goods, was it. But for these particular frozen goods, it turned out to be just perfect.

            Inside the top box were a couple of cat popsicles. In the panic to keep warm in the refrigerated van the frog had stayed clinging to Bluey’s chin as Bluey had clawed his way inside a half-full cardboard box. In her turn, the solid female had clung to Bluey. This had meant, though, she’d got the worst of the chill as she’d been closer to the outside. Now, she was almost frozen through.

            Bash had remained tucked into Bluey’s soft neck fur in the centre of the popiscle. Being an alpine frog, Bash probably had the best chance of recovery from the extreme cold. The insipid warmth from the afternoon sun managed to permeate the cardboard and somehow got Bash to start moving – prodding and shoving at Bluey’s throat – until he heard a gasp. The frog was too exhausted to make any noise but he became more strenuous in his endeavours to wake the cat wrapped around him. He may have been cold but he was dry and this was not a good thing for a frog. Bash needed to get out and get wet and quickly. He was desperate.

Their box was placed rather carelessly on top of the pile loaded onto the trolley, possibly because the weight was so uneven in the package. As Bluey started to cough and move, so too did the box. When Bluey realised he was getting hit in the throat by a frog, he also realised he was thawing and therefore they must be out of the van. He started to shove at his girlfriend. The box rocked and shifted and teetered …

Finally, the box toppled over the edge of the pile and hit the ground. The box fell open and split, revealing a scatter of small tubs of ice-cream plus two cold cats now split asunder. The fall had not done the she-cat much good. Near frozen, she lay on the pathway, completely dazed. Bluey was able to move, stiffly, and he was up on his paws and checking out his girlfriend before you could say Cat Frost. Bash swung from a tuft of chin hair and spun around dangerously like a strange black-and-gold necklace. The she-cat did not look too well. Bash coughed and said—Bluey. We’ve got to go. Human’s approaching. Bluey looked up and saw the driver was indeed walking toward them. His long beard was tucked in behind his clipboard where he was engrossed in checking off the invoice and making sure all his orders were present and correct. He still hadn’t looked up as Bluey scarpered down a side path and skittered round under a shrub, still with Bash clinging to his neck.

            Hullo, hullo, hullo, said Spark, newly appointed Ektek Head of Security, who just happened to be waiting in that particular shrub to oversee a used chip-oil pick up—What have we here, then?

            —Spark! said Bluey—We’ve got to help her!

            —No can do, mate. She’s already under arrest. Look.

            Bluey, Bash and Spark peered out from under their cover to see the driver pick up the she-cat. He stood for a moment watching her defrost and then he looked around him in all directions. Then he opened the van and had a good look inside. He pulled out the little plane. He stood, cold cat over one arm and small plane in the other hand, completely nonplussed. The watching creatures ducked back into hiding.

            —What’ll happen to her? said Bluey.

            —Anyone’s guess.

            —Spark?

            —Yes, Bash?

            —Can you get me to a puddle? Please?

            Birdbath do?

            —Too right, mate and make it snappy.

 

 

III

Intek was finally ready to go. There had been a false start earlier with the previous tide not quite up to power. Gumfluff and Carney had miscalculated: Intek was not used to such large passengers or their provisions; the magnums had unfortunately kept the craft aground with an inadequate tidal swell. However, this incoming tide was predicted to float the boat perfectly. Captain Gumfluff was completely in control of her vehicle. She knew the vagaries of Intek better than her own weary frame. She just didn’t understand magnums.

            Intek was currently nestled in a small cove near Bedlam waiting for conditions to reach optimum levels. The mangrove mud popped as little crabs scuttled across the surface. Tendrils of roots wove fabulous patterns in the air. A family of ducks tut-tutted as they marched along their path. They kept to themselves but they watched the Etkek preparations with an air of disapproval. No doubt their first concern lay with the large crocodile. What was she doing there and how could the ducklings best avoid her? The ducks probably did not even see the tiger – too far above their eye line – but it seemed certain they would not have approved of him either, no matter how laudable his objective.

Gleam really did have every intention to be cautious. He regarded himself as the brakes in this squad and he knew he had Antenna’s backing. Both Hod and Shining Teeth had proven themselves to be reckless, careless and dangerous. He had no desire to be caught up in their disregard for the living. He stayed by the bridge where the Captain worked. He trusted Gumfluff; the Captain oozed reliability and, as they were about to embark upon this long journey, Gleam knew he was going to need every bit of her reassurance.

            Antenna also stood on board and watched the tide come in over the mangrove mud. Soon it would be time for her to go ashore and watch Intek head out to sea without her. She could see little good coming from this trip. Of course she wanted Crawf back but not at the expense of his free will. What good would he be to Ektek, to anyone, if all he did was bemoan his return? Antenna did not trust Shining Teeth and could not imagine that Gleam would be able to prevent her from the worst – if it came to that – his own promise prevented him from hurting her. Or, if Gleam did rise up against the crocodile, what would that do to Gleam?

Intek was a curious looking vessel. Mainly sail driven, it was able to run both on solar or used chip oil if the wind was not up to it. As the journey to Crawf’s port would be a long one Intek carried a large amount of biodiesel – another weight to be factored into the tidal calculations.

            Intek was designed to slice through substantial waves with very little deviation. It was made of a patchwork of burnished metal parts welded together with solar panels giving it a variety of textures. The burnt metal collage shone when the craft chopped through the sea.

In full sail, Intek could cut like a knife, jutting out of the water at an acute angle. It sat low like an iceberg and was therefore much larger than it looked. Almost submarine in spirit, there was room and food on board, in addition to the current crew of Gumfluff, Carney, Hod, Shining Teeth and Gleam, for two or three large birds on the return voyage. Hod insisted Crawf and any of his family as could fit would be joining them. Gleam was still unconvinced and, when Hod passed him on board, Gleam said quietly—Crawf has to be free to follow his dream.

            Hod turned to look at the tiger—Even if that means he’s not free?

            —It’s his choice, Hod. You’ve been allowed to make your own strange choices from time to time …

            They were interrupted by Gumfluff’s whistle heralding the start of their voyage. She busily attended to the computers on the bridge, making her final calculations. Carney called out from the front of the boat where she was coiling a rope on deck—Sailing immediately! All visitors ashore, please. See ya, Ant.

            —Bye, Carney. Good bye, Captain. Safe trip.

            Gumfluff was too busy to acknowledge Antenna’s departure with more than a brief nod.

            Both Hod and Gleam turned to find Antenna and they followed her to the gangway. Antenna looked at them both but could find no more words before heading down the plank and wading through the mud. When she landed on the firm ground, she turned back to look at them and found she still had no words. What could she say? She’d already wished them good luck and asked them to be careful. And all those caring words of caution to Shining Teeth had simply run off the side of her armoured skin like confetti.

            Carney pulled up the plank and latched it to the side of Intek. Hod, Gleam and Shining Teeth watched the numbat standing in the mangroves. Antenna, uncertain if she would see any of the crew again, sat up on her hindquarters and stared at them as they moved on the deck above her. Gumfluff let loose a farewell blast from her seagoing fog-horn. Then they were off, the propellers churning and the smell of burnt chips taking Intek out into the harbour where, in good time, she would try to catch the wind.

Antenna raised her forepaw in a salute. Gleam nodded and disappeared, presumably to stand with Gumfluff on the bridge. Shining Teeth got down from the railing and also disappeared from Antenna’s view.

When he saw that he was alone, Hod, too, lifted his front paw. Numbat and wallaby recognised they were separated by more than just a stretch of water but they also knew they were inseparable. They were part of Ektek and that was bigger than any of their differences.

 

 

IV

Spark balanced on the side of the frog-quarium, looking down into an arrangement of moss and rocks. Just below him, a new delivery of tadpoles found their legs; jumped, hopped and scampered in the damp greenery. The black-and-yellow stripey babies were tiny and Spark couldn’t help but be amused by their antics. The display frog-quarium was carefully landscaped to offer no place for frogs to hide. Even so, corroboree frogs often managed invisibility. This was why Bash was able to come and go so readily; it was extremely difficult to count the inhabitants of this particular glass container. Bash clambered up the walls and, by flying behind him and pushing, Spark gave him a shove over the final distance.

            Thanks for that, said Bash, when they were safely on the ground.

            Sorry I can’t fly you ... Previously Spark and Torque had been able to take hold of Bash and take to the air with him fluttering between them like an irregularly shaped black-and-yellow flag. The memory gave rise to recollections of Torque. Frog and beetle walked on toward the tunnels and the control centre in contemplation of their late darkling beetle friend.

            We’ll miss him. Bash had heard about Torque’s death and was miserable he wouldn’t see him again.

            He was an old beetle, no one knew how old, and he’d had a full life.

            Your turn now, Bash said—You’ll have to find an assistant.

            —Me?

            —Torque found you. You’ll need to train a successor after all and then …

            —You’d be able to travel in style …

            —The style to which I’ve become accustomed. Hey, it’s not all about me.

            —It is today, Bash. What were you thinking? Bringing two cats into Ektek. One was bad enough; but two?

            —He saved my life and so did she, come to that.

            —You better hope it was worth it.

            Bash opened his mouth to ask what the zed the beetle meant by that but realised he wasn’t sure he’d like the answer. He knew cats were murdering bastards. He knew that and yet, as he was grateful to be alive, so he believed Bluey and the she-cat deserved to live too. If they wanted to live in Ektek then he’d try to help that happen for them – up to a point. They walked the rest of the way through the dark tunnels in silence.

They arrived at the control centre to find Antenna, Eid and Bluey already there. Antenna had asked Spark to escort the frog to see her first thing in the morning. She wanted to hear from Bash himself exactly what had happened in those wetlands.

Bluey had spent the night in the machine cage in Gleam’s place. He looked refreshed and well fed. His ginger hair had grown out to such an extent there was now no mistaking him for anything other than what he was; a large, ginger tomcat.

            Bash jumped up onto the console desk. He looked longingly at the computer, remembering all those happy hours shooting pixels, shook himself free from the siren call of killing games and asked—How is she?

            —She’s survived, said Eid.

—At the vet’s, said Antenna—Here. Antenna gestured toward an open page on the Bedlam Zoo website designed for the human public to get a bird’s eye view; Bedlam’s Vetcam.

Bluey was glued to a grainy picture streaming from a camera mounted on a wall in the room. There was no mistaking the fat she-cat standing in a cage on the opposite side of the treatment centre. It was one of many cages lining the walls. The she-cat had her eyes fixed to the staff moving around the room and every time a human came anywhere near her she arched her back, hissed and let them have a good look at her teeth.

            They haven’t examined her yet, said Antenna—They’ve just left her to rest and recover. I expect they’ll give her the once over today.

Have you seen her sit down? asked Bash.

Antenna said—She’s been standing or pacing …

—In that cage? said Bash.

—All the time, said Eid.

—She’s got a lot of energy, said Bluey with a sigh in his voice.

You're worried about her, Antenna was sympathetic.

Bash opened his mouth to speak then looked over at the cat. Bluey shrugged and silently agreed with the frog he was the one who should explain all—Antenna. She’s expecting.

            —Who? Antenna’s attention flashed back to Eid. She felt him prepare to stand up. She didn’t want him to go but she knew he had to head back to the numbat enclosure. The zoo would open soon and, as agreed, one of them had to be on display. This morning it was Eid. They both stood up together. Standing with her partner, Antenna looked back at Bash. She needed to have some serious conversations with both Bash and Bluey about Bash’s appalling behaviour. They could also see the little plane, damaged but still apparently structurally sound, in the vet’s office. It leant on the wall next to a desk. They had to get that plane out of the way of zoo management. But right now she didn’t want to let Eid out of her sight. Her head was teeming with thoughts and her heart was full of Eid. She was abuzz, hardly knowing which way to turn, what to think and who to talk to first.

            In contrast, Bluey only had one thing on his mind—Her.

            They all turned to watch the she-cat, hissing and caterwauling as the vet nurse picked up her entire cage and placed it onto the scales on the floor near the exit. The nurse made a note of the red electronic numbers that flashed up on the screen next to the scales, then the nurse carried the cage full of erect fur and violent feline over to the vet’s examining table.

            —The cat with no name, said Bash.

            —Why doesn’t she have a name? said Eid.

            —She doesn’t need one, said Bluey.

            What do you mean, expecting? said Antenna—What’s she expecting?

            —Kittens, of course. What else would she be expecting?

            —Breakfast? said Bash—She hasn’t had anything to eat, has she?

            Antenna realised—She’s pregnant?

            —She got us here, said Bash—We can’t abandon her.

            —No one’s talking about abandoning anyone. But kittens? That's a problem. I don’t know what the vet will do with them.

            Bluey thought for a moment before he said—What do you mean? What could the vet do with them?

            Antenna weighed up the vet’s choices—She could go several ways, I suppose. Sell them to a pet shop …

            —What?

            —Euthanase them … said Eid.

            —Huh?

            —Feed them to the snakes … said Bash.

            —These are my children you’re talking about!

            —Well, Bluey, you asked! I don’t know what they’ll do. Maybe they’ll go to a good home.

            —Or maybe not, said Eid.

—All we can do is monitor the records and make sure she gets de-sexed after she’s had them, said Antenna.

            What do you mean, de-sexed?

            —They’ll remove her uterus so she can’t have any more children.

            What? Bluey was devastated—Without even asking?

            —You don’t think there’s enough cats on the planet? asked Eid.

            —You want to get de-sexed?

            —They’re never going to de-sex me. I’m from an endangered species on a special breeding program.

—Yes, laughed Antenna—If they knew about me I can tell you I bet I’d be pregnant right now.

There was a small pause. Bluey's gaze lingered on Antenna—I thought you were, he said.

            —What? said Antenna.

            —Pregnant.

            —What? said Eid.

            —She looks pregnant.

            —I do?

—You’ve put on weight.

            —It’s true Antenna, said Bash—You have.

            —I have?

            Eid looked at her with glistening eyes and said, with wonder in his voice—You have.

            —Oh, said Antenna.

            —Believe me, I’ve seen plenty of pregnant females before today. Cats are very good at this whole pregnancy thing. Take it from me; you’ve got the look. Don’t you feel any different?

            —I thought … maybe … worms?

            —Ha. Numbat worms. Well. Congratulations. How’s it feel to be telling me your babies are worth more than mine?

            —I’m not even sure …

            —They’re not! Bluey exclaimed—Every life is equal, cobber. I’ve got a right to have as many children as I like!

            —I’m sorry, Bluey but what on earth gives you that right? said Eid.

            —Me! Because I can! It’s my survival and my genetic survival into the future. It’s what I’ve got to do. It’s my main purpose in life. It’s my drive, for zed’s sake.

            —We’re responsible for saving our species! said Eid—From extinction!

            —So am I!

Eid let out a bitter laugh—As if! There’s no danger of cats becoming extinct. You just want to replicate yourself and add to the thousands of cats eating mammals, eating fish, eating birds, eating reptiles all over the world.

            —Isn’t it a basic right; for every life to reproduce?

Eid turned back to look at Bluey—You surely can’t think we need more humans?

            —Oh, of course not …

            —Well, then, said Eid—Some lives are clearly more necessary than others.

—It’s called biodiversity, added Antenna—It’s what makes us all strong.

—If only a few species succeed then the limited variety of life forms become vulnerable to germs or climate or geological danger that could theoretically take out the whole spectrum of life, said Eid.

—You got to look at the bigger picture, Bluey, said Antenna.

            —Told you no one likes cats.

            —Thanks, Bash.

            —Bluey. I couldn’t be more serious. I like you. I owe you my life. I want you to know, I’m on your side. However. I don’t think the world needs more cats. Okay?

            Bluey looked at the frog sadly. He looked over at Vetcam and then sighed—Look at her. That's my girlfriend in that cage. She's never stopped moving. Pacing, hissing, scratching … She's a wild one, for sure.

            Antenna watched the trapped cat in the vet’s office with new compassion. So. Kittens. New life. Breeding. How would it feel to be locked in a cage with no way out knowing you needed to provide for your young? She looked around her at Eid and at Bash and Bluey as they all stood in the dim blue glow of the control cave. Who was she kidding? Antenna had no choice in the matter either. She may have a bigger cage but she was still a prisoner.

            Eid stood next to Antenna and breathed her in. He could not find a way to leave her today. He looked at her face, her fur and felt the warmth from her. She smiled up at him. Pregnant. Wow. He said—Now you’ll come into the enclosure for good.

            —I will? she said, sharply.

            Of course, he said, in surprise. Why wouldn’t she? It was obvious it would be better for her. The vet could look after her and the babies and she’d have the support of the other numbats but before he could explain, she finished the discussion—No. As far as Antenna was concerned there was no further need for debate—That won’t be necessary.

            Eid just looked at her in disbelief.

 

 

V

It had been a long voyage. Tempers were winding up into a grim level of tension. To alleviate her nagging boredom, Shining Teeth started to snap at passing sea birds, once even diving dramatically overboard in an over-enthusiastic reach into the air. On her return on board Intek she insisted she was just playing and enjoyed the swim but still … Gumfluff reminded her she didn’t need to be murdering any passing albatross just for fun. Another time Shining Teeth slid into the drink, for a swim alongside, Gumfluff looked over at Gleam just for a fleeting moment. If they changed direction and piled on another sail, they’d pick up speed and then, that croc’d have to swim mighty fast … Gleam looked back at the koala and there was a pleasant frisson between them. But they knew that, even though they could do it, they would not do it; at least, not right now. After bathing Shining Teeth was usually tired and she would sleep long into the day.

            Gleam spent most of his time in meditation. Apparently calm on the outside, inside he struggled with his magnum instincts. On the one paw he had his responsibilities to Ektek; should he, if it was warranted, physically prevent the crocodile from attacking again? On the other paw lay his vows of passivism and refusal to cause death. Gleam knew he was the only creature on board capable of overpowering the croc but he did not wish to ever use that power. More than that, he felt he must not. He could not speak of these fears to anyone but often found himself on the bridge with the Captain. Somehow Gumfluff had an empathetic air and, although he never broached his personal dilemma, the tiger was happy to while away the hours discussing strategies, stories of the sea and sailing techniques with the koala.

            Hod’s behaviour was in direct contrast to the stillness of the tiger. He energetically joined Carney in all the chores of shipboard life. He was happy to swab and sluice the decks and enjoyed nothing more than climbing to the top of the bridge to scan the horizon for any sign of trouble. Often he’d spy the distant plumes of water that signified the presence of whales. Gleam, as an interpreter, was able to reassure everyone that Intek was indeed on the correct route and Smacker was monitoring their course.

            Gumfluff appeared nonchalant on board her ship. She chewed a eucalyptus leaf continually. Her sleepy demeanour belied her alert reactions. Carney needed little instruction and took care of the running of most of the activities on board. The five creatures passed the days uneventfully.

            Through night and day, sun and cloud, smooth seas and rough, the journey went on and on. They were able to dodge pirates and avoid flotsam due to Hod’s eagle eye of protection. They avoided storms with Smacker’s navigation skills and their provisions showed no sign of running out too early.

            One morning Hod, as compelling as any ship’s crewmember had ever been, cried out—Land ho! And there, in the distance, was the faint fringe of green along the horizon. This was the country they had come to see. It grew larger and more definite as the day grew brighter. Following Smacker’s advice they avoided the busy port where Crawf was held captive and tied up in a sanctuary designed to protect migrating birds. There they met a black beetle with red legs who had recently come from the breeding facility behind Philavian. His name was Trogo and he was keen to help in any way he could. Armed with his new beetle information the group could make a plan to rescue Crawf.

Gumfluff and Carney would stay with Intek, reprovisioning and replenishing water stores with the help of local zoo animals. The rescue party would make their way on foot, following the beetle.

            The trio of animals, guided by Trogo, at last judged it safe to set out from the sanctuary. Even though there was no moon, the stars blazed out, lighting their way brighter than all the Ektek glow-worms back in those dim blue caves in their far away home.

            Hod went first, then Shining Teeth, followed by Gleam. He had insisted on being last, mainly because he wanted to keep an eye on Shining Teeth every step of the way. The plan was simple. Gleam, as probably the most stealthy one, would creep into the bird facility, find Crawf, open his cage with his large tiger claws and bring Crawf and any Palm cockatoo relatives out. If need be, Gleam could swiftly ascertain any difficulties, bring in the others to assist if required and then lead Crawf and any other palmys back to the road to the sanctuary. There would be no need for sudden decisions. No need to jump into rash violence. Trogo assured them their beetle surveillance team had been watching Philavian for days. They had studied the security systems and, if the Ektek animals followed the local advice, the rescue would be a straightforward operation. Trogo was personally prepared to do anything to make their trip a pleasant and easy one.

The three animals and their guide were quiet and careful as they proceeded through the streets. They managed to reach the facility undetected. Shining Teeth and Hod planted themselves by the exit and Gleam slunk in under the bolted gateway, low to the ground, dreading to disturb any bird that had not been warned of his approach. Trogo and his team of beetles assured him they had already alerted the birds of a visitor that night and that his interest lay only in one particular bird. No one wanted a whole aviary of birds to start up a hue and cry as if he were a fox in the henhouse! So far, the birds had been informed of his purpose and were nervously pretending to sleep as Gleam slunk along the corridors of cages, his stripy fur acting as camouflage against the bars of the walls. He came eventually to the cockatoos. They were all a bit sleepy and soon Gleam found Crawf. Unlike the others, Crawf was standing bolt upright on his perch, wide-awake, tapping his foot impatiently. He had been waiting for him. Gleam looked up at the latch he must undo and said—Are you ready?

            Crawf said—I’m not coming with you.

            Gleam sat down on his haunches and stared at the cockatoo, grey in the shadows—Now, Crawf ...

            —Did anyone ask me? No. Did that beetle wait to find out what I thought when they told us you were coming? No. Did everyone assume I got myself captured by mistake? I have to suppose so. Well, they were wrong. This was no mistake, Gleam.  I know what I’m doing. I wanted to be caught. I wanted to be sent to a place where I might find family. And I have. And I want to stay here. Crawf looked over at his friend, the swaying Palm cockatoo who currently, mercifully, was asleep. He knew she would never survive a trip out of the institution. He would not sacrifice the chance to make a family now.

            Gleam followed his eye-line and looked back at Crawf—We can take her with us.

            No, said Crawf—We’ll be fine. Really. Thanks for coming all this way …

            —We won’t be back; you know that. The distance is too great.

            —I never wanted you to come in the first place, whispered Crawf. Every word felt like a chip of glass spitting out of his beak. How could they put him in this situation?Look, maybe there are birds here who would like to be rescued but I’d need time to ask them. When do you have to return?

            —As soon as possible. The longer we’re in port the greater the danger. We’ll be in the sanctuary until we have reprovisioned. Then we must leave. One more night. That’s all you’ve got. We’ll be out on the next dawn tide.

            —I’ll send word. Leave a beetle with me.

            At a glance from Gleam, Trogo flew to land beside Crawf. Crawf acknowledged him and then raised his head-feathers to farewell the tiger. The tiger bowed and saidGood bye, Crawf. You have a day to change your mind.

            —I’ve had a lifetime, Gleam. I’ve worked out what I want. Have you?

            Gleam stared at him for a moment. He realised they had made a huge blunder. He was sorry for Crawf but more sorry that he’d been swept up in this mad journey. He bowed to Crawf, believing that nothing more needed to be said. He silently made his way back along the lines of cages and slunk out to meet Hod and Shining Teeth in the shadows outside.

            Hod looked past him and then said—Where is he?

            —Not coming.

            —What?

            Let’s get him, said Shining Teeth.

            No, said Gleam—Not this time. Let's go. After you …

            For once, Shining Teeth didn’t protest and set out at once. Gleam waited to follow them both. Hod reluctantly set out along the path, turning back to speak but Gleam’s determination silenced him until they were nearly at the sanctuary. Hod was livid—We need him at Ektek.

            —We can train someone else, said Gleam.

            —He knows things we don’t know to teach someone else. He can’t abandon Ektek.

            —He has. We must leave him.

            —We can’t.

            —We have. Perhaps, in time, he can do Ektek’s work from here but he will not come with us.

            —We’ve come all this way!

            —No one asked him, said Gleam—It’s not the fault of the beetles. It’s our fault for not listening to him at the outset. We’ve made assumptions; gross assumptions about who is best, who is right and who is wrong. We need to take stock.

            By this time they were back at the boat and Gleam boarded Intek with a heavy heart. He went straight to the bridge to report to Gumfluff and Carney.

            Hod and Shining Teeth stayed ashore and looked out over the swaying reeds to the little wharf where Intek floated gently in the soft starlit night. Hod said—That’s not a good outcome.

            —No, said Shining Teeth thoughtfully—It’s not.

            —What do you want to do about it?

            —Well, as far as I can see, the time for taking stock is over.

            —What else can you do with stock?

            —Boil it?

 


Chapter Fifteen

 

I

The vet arrived in the clinic. She went over to a side desk and fiddled with something (the watching creatures could not see what it could be from their Vetcam monitor) and then went over to the examining table. The cage took up much of the space. The tabletop surface was one of those easily wiped materials suitable for using with animals. It featured a mechanism that enabled it to be adjusted up or down according to the size of beast to be examined. The table was currently adjusted so the cage was at the vet’s hip height. It also appeared the cage itself could be altered.

The vet waited while the nurse hefted a lever on the side of the she-cat’s cage. Part of the cage wall closed down closer to the cat, crushing her into a smaller and smaller space, leaving the she-cat no option but to back up. Hissing and spitting as she was, she soon found she had nowhere to turn.

Bluey sighed again. He was uneasy for his girlfriend—She does herself no favours with that aggression.

The vet was waiting with a hypodermic syringe. She plunged the injection though the wire webbing of the cage into the cat’s backside. The she-cat’s humour did not immediately improve; her hissing and back arching became even more vehement. The vet disposed of the used sharp, turned away to the computer, logged in and began to type.

            Antenna managed to hack into the vet’s account and opened the link. They were able to watch what the vet was typing as she hit the keys. Antenna read it and translated out loud for the benefit of Bluey whom she suspected could not read—She’s sedated her.

            —Hope she’s used a double dose, said Bluey, worried for his girlfriend’s peace of mind—She doesn’t trust humans.

            —And why should she? asked Bash.

            There was an unspoken shiver of agreement in the control centre.

            If the vet’s on duty, you’d better get going, said Antenna to Eid even though she really didn’t want him to leave. The zoo would be opening. Duty called.

            —Wish I didn’t have to … Eid prepared to leave the control centre but he was easily distracted by Bluey’s next comment and stayed, poised by the door, to hear what happened next.

Now what? Although Bluey was focussed on the plight of his girlfriend he was also aware he himself was in a uncertain situation—I mean, she’s in there and I’m here … What’s going to happen to me? How long can I stay with Ektek?

            —That's up to you, Bluey. You don’t have to go, yet, said Antenna—I suppose the ants can keep bringing you Gleam’s food – or a part of it anyway – and you can stay until we see what happens with the children. But, Bluey, you can’t kill anyone …

            —Thank you, Antenna. I promise I won’t be any trouble. It’s just that, life’s so difficult on the outside, you’ve no idea. I don’t want to be free any more.

            —Feral, you mean, said Bash.

            —Yeah, well, there’s a fine line between feral and free, ain’t there.

            —Antenna, I have to go but I want to … Eid couldn’t bring himself to talk to Antenna about the future and their children. Not here. Not now. He was thrilled she might be pregnant but he was worried she wasn’t so enthusiastic about the idea.

            —We’ll talk about it, she said—Don’t worry. Eid leaned down close to her and they touched the sides of their heads together. With their eyes closed, they stood, cheek to cheek for a short time. Then Eid stepped back and left the cave.

Acknowledging Eid’s departure, Antenna, Bluey and Bash turned back to Vetcam on their monitor and stared at the cat in the crush cage. She was no longer showing any signs of aggression. Instead, she slumped between the cage walls. There was absolutely no fight left in her now—What’s wrong with her? said Bluey.

That’s the sedative, said Antenna, well used to Zoo veterinary examinations.

The vet nurse dragged the limp she-cat out of the cage and laid her on her side on the examination table.

There, now, the vet will be able to get a good look at her, said Antenna.

Bluey added—If she can just stay still and not attack the good doctor.

But the vet only took a cursory look at the cat and she did not move again. Instead, the good doctor took another hypodermic syringe, stuck the needle into the she-cat’s heart – from just behind the feline’s elbow – and depressed the plunger. Still the she-cat did not move. At all. The vet withdrew the needle and watched the cat. The vet's face was impassive.

The vet turned away again and typed at her computer. According to the screen the cat was a de-sexed female weighing 10.3kg. The required dose of Lethobarb had been given at this time and this place. Then the vet closed the cat’s page. Forever.

—Lethobarb? said Bash—What’s that?

—A medicine of some kind, said Antenna—Maybe she’s got to be unconscious to do the examination.

The she-cat lay on the table. Still. Very still.

In a while the nurse came back and picked up the she-cat. The heavy feline lolled in the nurse’s arms as she put her into a plastic rubbish bag, rolled the plastic down her muscular form and twisted a strip of wire tie around the top. The she-cat would not be able to breathe. That was supposing she’d been able to breathe before she went into the bag, which the watching animals had come to realise she very probably had not. Then the nurse carried the bag away to the cool room. The vet sprayed the bench top with a chemical preparation in a green plastic misting bottle and gave it all a good wipe.

            The Ektek control cave remained silent. On their monitor, the vet moved to open another cage. She turned and brought a small monkey to the examining table.

Antenna took in a deep breath and turned to face Bluey—She’s been cleared.

Bash stared at the numbat. It was unbelievable. They had thought the cat would be assisted to give birth and be found a good home and then …

They both looked at Bluey— But that’s not fair. His eyes were confused as he stared back at Bash and Antenna—What about my kittens?

—Bluey. There were no kittens.

—There were …

            —You saw what the vet typed, said Antenna—She was already de-sexed. There must have been a scar. She lied to you.

            —Can’t trust a feral.

            —Bash! Antenna was shocked at his lack of tact.

            —Sorry.

            Bluey stared at them. She’d saved his life. She had so many survival skills. He didn’t know how he’d cope without her. It didn’t matter what she was. It didn’t even matter that she’d lied to him. She had been a force and he wanted her the way she was. He turned to stare at Vetcam and then his eyes filled with tears—Can we get her back?

 

 

II

Silent in his cage in Philavian, Crawf was resting on his perch when he heard a clanging kerfuffle from the doorway. The birds seemed to be calling too early and from only one direction. It was not yet dawn but even so the birds seemed to be shouting louder and louder until they were calling near him too, and there, suddenly, right in front of him was Hod.

            Hod reached up and flicked open the latch holding his cage door shut. The door swung open and Hod grinned at him—Pleased to see me?

            No, Hod, I’m really not. Crawf stayed where he was and stared at Hod—Go away. I told Gleam, I don’t want to go.

            Nonsense, said Hod—Come on. He looked around the cages, some as yet unopened—Let’s see. Who else? Tell you what, I’ll go get the other palmys. Where are they? Well, actually, don’t worry, we’re letting everyone out anyway, and he hopped away to the next cage and flicked that door lock open too.

            Crawf was immediately alarmed—Everyone? No!

            The beetle Trogo flew criss cross up Crawf’s cage to sit beside him on his perch and said—What should I do?

            —I don’t know. Crawf looked round and saw the doors along the corridor were hanging open. Hod had flipped all the latches. The air was filling with panicking birds, shouting and yelling for all they were worth. A large black-and-white bird with a dazzling red crest crashed headlong into another gigantic bird with a proud white head, a yellow, hooked beak and brown plumage. Each bounced backwards, scrabbling with their wings as they fought to find equilibrium; then both rose into the air again. They shook the potential concussion from their heads and rushed madly to the exit where they might manage to climb over or under the gate. Another enormous dark-brown to grey bird with a bald head and a looping neck hurried past. A brown pelican dashed overhead while a whooping crane shouted out, ecstatic with freedom, visible now above the roof of wire.

Colours blurred in the air: a large red bird with a long-laddered tail zipped by, seeking an exit in vain; a huge, intensely green parrot with yellow nostrils crawled past remarkably quickly on the floor while a blue-and-gold macaw blasted through in the other direction, just missing a circling dove with a distinctive splash of red on her front that looked for all the world like a bleeding heart. It was a madhouse: a flood of feathers, a barrage of wings and a surge of birdshit. And in the middle of it all, laughing, stood Shining Teeth, menacing and malevolent.

Crawf’s heart plummeted. He’d seen Shining Teeth at work in the university lab footage. His heart started to beat faster. He knew her capabilities and he shouted to Hod, losing control of his voice, panicking—What’s she doing here? Get her out!

            Trogo thought he was shouting to him and immediately flew down to see Shining Teeth. He danced in front of her – he had sensed Crawf’s rage ­– and shouted as loudly as he could in his teeny tiny beetle voice—You have to leave! Please go!

            Shining Teeth barely even registered he was there. She knew there was something annoying happening around her head so she snapped at it. Trogo disappeared down her gullet with hardly an interruption to her oesophagus.

            Crawf jumped to the edge of his cage, trembling with rage and impotence.

            Hod was now on the other side of the corridor of cages, flicking open the doors, laughing too, as he saw the various and sometimes extreme reaction of the birds to their liberty and the ensuing crazy bombardment of other birds. Shining Teeth ambled over to see how he was doing, enjoying every minute of this destructive aerial ballet. She flicked Crawf a glance and then she spotted his girlfriend; she checked back and forth to make sure the Palm cockatoos were in fact part of the same species.  Right. Same feather colour. Same cheek patch. Same hair crest. Same, same, same. Only one, the scrawny one, was a girl and the other one was Crawf. She laughed back at Crawf—This is the family you came all this way to find? Sniggering, the croc turned back to examine the poor excuse for a female palmy. The palmy pressed hard against the back of her cage to get away from the reptile’s snout and Hod called to her—We’ve come to take you away from all this.

            Crawf’s heart increased in tempo yet again. He hopped to the open door of his cage and called to Hod—Shut her in, leave her alone, we don’t want to come with you, but Shining Teeth didn’t hear him or she ignored him if she did. She jumped up on her hind legs and poked her nose into the female’s cage—Come on, out of there, she cooed, soothingly. Only the sound of a crocodile was not the sound an emotionally unhinged cockatoo needs to hear and the poor bird immediately fell away in a dead faint. Shining Teeth thought no more and grabbed her up in her great teeth-filled mouth, heaved her out of the cage and spat her out onto the ground. Perhaps the croc imagined she might fly once she felt the air around her wings. Her teeth did not mark the cockatoo but Crawf flew out of his cage and rushed at Shining Teeth. He flew into pandemonium. Other birds also flew this way and that in the corridors and Hod, having just released every single one all along the line of cages, was so full of himself, so gleeful, that he was bounding along, jumping and leaping in the air thick with feathers. They all met with a crash; Crawf, Hod and Shining Teeth. Several other birds barely missed them as they swung around them in the mêlée.

            Crawf landed with his claws out, into Shining Teeth’s head. He missed her eyes and he so wished he could have hurt her much more but he stood forcing his talons into her shoe-leather flesh as hard as he could and screamed at them—Get out! Get out now!

            Hod and Shining Teeth looked at each other. Feathers of all sizes and colours floated around them and landed on their bodies. They were panting, overexcited, energetic but underlying that heightened buzz was a gnawing undertow; a pulse of nausea. On some level they understood that things had got way too far out of their control. Hysterical birds zoomed around them.

Shining Teeth, with a heavy bird digging himself into her head, started, awfully, shamefully, to giggle—Oooh. This is a bit much, isn’t it? Madly, Hod joined in. The giggling progressed to belly laughing altogether far too fast. It was unseemly. Their laughter was dreadful. Crawf could not bear it. He stabbed Shining Teeth harder with his claws before he released and flew back up to the female's cage. He went into the cage and paced, paced up and down. What could he do? How could he cope? He had brought them there by his own carelessness. He should have been able to stop them. His mind’s voice berated him. It was all his fault. He had only himself to blame and while he could still draw breath, he would never stop blaming himself.

            On the ground in the corridor nearby, Hod and Shining Teeth had shining eyes and grinning mouths. But even as they were hurdy-gurdy swept up into the exhilaration and the swirl of adrenalin they could feel an ember of guilt starting to flicker in their guts. They knew they’d done wrong even though they still believed they’d been justified at the outset. They also knew they had to get out before the cacophony of bird noises and the fountain of fowls in flight from the aviary brought humans to investigate. They moved quickly down to the exit and disappeared.

            Birds still flew, chicks tumbled onto the ground, fledglings made wild dashes into the air to try to reach some safety; all helter skelter in the aviary. Crawf judged when it was safe to enter the air stream and as soon as he could, he flew down to land beside his female. His female. He’d never even spoken to her. She was lying prone on the ground. A little bit of blood seeped out of her beak and spilled onto the damp concrete. A panicked bird flying overhead let loose a juicy white crap. It plopped onto her head and splattered over Crawf beside her. She did not move.

            Crawf could not move either. At first. Then, he started to sway where he was. Just a little bit; just rock, rock, rocking himself into some small comfort; over and over again.

 

 

III

Hod bounded up Intek’s gangplank, ignoring all other activities, comings and goings and other creatures industriously working there, and rushed up to the bridge. There he found Gumfluff, chewing her ubiquitous eucalyptus leaf, checking the weather forecast and tide movements on her computer screen. Hod said—We should be off. There was an urgency in his voice which made Gumfluff turn to look at him hard. She twisted her head to a slightly skewed angle. Her eye was quizzical and shrewd as she examined him—What’s your hurry?

            —Might have attracted human interest. Sorry. We need to get out of here. Actually, all Hod was interested in was getting the boat to sail at once. He didn’t actually care what he said as long as it worked. He figured humans would be the last thing Gumfluff would want to see and he was right.

            Gumfluff moved out of the bridge and went on deck to see where Carney was. As she moved she spat back to Hod—Check with Gleam. She swayed off in that strange loping koala walk to negotiate their departure with Carney. Her sharp claws scraped on the deck, turned her feet and made her legs bend out as she walked.

            Hod sought out Gleam. He found him helping a deer with a tawny brown coat and three pronged antlers load provisions into the cargo hold. The local zoo inhabitants were also part of the extended Ektek family and prepared to share their foods with the rescue party. A lizard with a large fin extending along the length of his body delivered a small package into the hold and then left again. The storage areas were redolent with the smell of eucalyptus – Gumfluff hated to go short of her favourite sustenance – which covered a multitude of sins because both croc and tiger had to be fed meat. The smells of stored road-kill and other creatures less fortunate than themselves rose quietly into the air. Gleam looked up when he saw Hod. An intense feeling of uncertainty and danger drilled into his guts. He became more alert and crouched slightly, ready to spring if need be.

            Hod was panting. He was trying to cover his jittery excitement (bordering on manic) with a thin veneer of civility but had some trouble. He said—Time to go.

            —Really? said Gleam. He examined Hod’s dishevelled appearance and calculated likely disasters as he quietly asked—Where is she?

Hod knew the tiger was talking about Shining Teeth and he also knew he was expecting him to report that something frightful had occurred. Hod would not give him the satisfaction—Right behind me. We have to leave.

—We said we’d wait for Trogo. Crawf was going to check what birds might need …

—Look, I know you told us; I know everything that ought to have happened, you can save the lecture, but we went to Crawf to see for ourselves.

Gleam could not help but remember those two dogs. He could not help but imagine the worst but he so dreaded hearing what a crocodile might have accomplished, among hundreds of birds just for fun on this bright and sunny morning, that he swung his mind out on an angle and said to the wallaby—So you believe me? He really doesn’t want to come, does he?

—Yes, completely true. He really doesn’t want to come, said Hod in all honesty— … but I think some humans might have followed us so we have to get out of here. Now!

—I see. Gleam still looked at him, holding his attention, waiting. He had no idea what he was waiting for but he dreaded that Hod knew more than he was saying and the tiger could not countenance hearing grim news about Crawf. His hesitation was rewarded by the appearance of Shining Teeth in the hold doorway. She was backlit by the morning sun. Chips of gold light glittered on her back like shining armour. Gleam studied her. She said—See something you like?

Gleam said—Fetching.

—What?

—Feather by your eye, there.

I told him, Hod interrupted—How Crawf told us it was okay to go. How we might have attracted too much attention – how it was getting light …

There’s no doubt, Shining Teeth nodded—We have to go right now.

Gleam turned to a compact heavyset buffalo laden with packages for the hold and asked him if there was much more. The dwarf buffalo said—Nearly there, and left the hold again. Gleam looked up at Hod and Shining Teeth—Well? Don’t just stand there. Help. Sooner we finish, sooner we can sail, right?

Hod found it easy enough to get back ashore and find something suitable to carry up to the hold but Shining Teeth was only able to convey things in her mouth. Unfortunately a container of water burst as she lowered her jaws over it and punctured the plastic with her teeth. She was allowed off duty. She slunk back on board and landed heavily near the railing. She sprawled.

Gleam flicked her a glance every now and then. He didn’t trust her. He could feel something was off – more than just the odd bit of road-kill steaming in the hold ­– something was very wrong and he had no idea how to find out what it might be and absolutely no idea how to fix it. He could only hope Crawf had survived and some word might come from him before they departed. His eye searched the air for an approaching beetle. There was still no sign of Trogo.

Gumfluff and Carney moved swiftly to make sure the hold was fast and all their visitors were ashore before commencing procedures to untie the boat from the little wharf. Gleam and Carney thanked the helping creatures who stood ashore and raised a paw or inclined an antler in farewell.

Carney went below to start the engines. The smell of twice-cooked deep-fried chips filled the sanctuary and Intek belched into action. Gumfluff swung the wheel and the little boat turned away from the wharf and made her way out of the safe harbour. It was broad daylight but both Hod and Gumfluff felt much safer to be on their way if humans had decided to investigate.

The smell of brine soon overtook the biodiesel fumes waving behind them. Back on the ocean, back into the wind and back to their journey home to Ektek.

Gleam knew they’d failed in their mission. More than that, he knew Hod and Shining Teeth were keeping something from him. He was determined to find out what that was. He began to think of Smacker. Whales could communicate with everyone; from beetles to crocodiles, if they only put their mind to it. Where was that whale when you needed him?

Several birds flew overhead, different sized and shaped silhouettes in the bright blue sky. Where had they come from? Where were they going?

 

 

IV

Bluey lay in Gleam’s old bed in the machine cage. He was a smaller and paler version of the tiger. He didn’t look like he could do much damage to anyone. He hadn’t eaten. He was curled up in a knot with his bad eye turned inwards. His breathing was shallow.

Antenna and Bash watched him for a little while and then they turned away. As they walked through the corridors Antenna said—We have to do something, Bash. He can’t stay here.

            —I know.

            —We have to think of something.

            There was a pause before Bash spoke again—What?

            Antenna looked at him, exasperated—Bash.

            Bash didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed but he did start to think—We have to get the little plane anyway so can we find her body and bring it out?

            —Give her a decent burial?

            —A feral burial.

 

 

V

Intek bit into the water and sent a white wake out behind her. A straight line led from the sanctuary to their boat travelling now in the deep blue ocean. A salt breeze in the warm air ruffled tiger and koala fur alike as Gleam stood beside Gumfluff on the bridge and surveyed the horizon sliced in two by that straight white wake—Still nothing, he said.

            Can’t say I’m surprised, said Gumfluff.

            No.

            —Should we have stayed?

            —If they did nothing, as they say, then what good would have come from our intervention? If they had caused mayhem and we rushed in …

            —We might have made it worse.

            —We could have been caught; we could have exacerbated the problem; could we have improved the situation … ? Gleam shrugged. He was literally out of his depth here.

            —Which do you think?

            Gleam looked at her before he spoke. He was reluctant but in a way he needed to speak, needed to communicate his fears to her—Mayhem. You?

            —Also, mayhem.

            —I wish I’d known what they were thinking. Maybe I could have …

            —Stopped them? You think?

            —No, Gleam really didn’t have any idea what would be best—I don’t know.

            —Should I have given them an order? As captain of the ship, Gumfluff was in charge and what she said went.

            —Shining Teeth takes orders from no one.

            —Then, as she is on board my boat, next time she goes swimming she will no longer be my responsibility. We find that strong wind and … She let the words trail off.

            Gleam did not answer. He left the bridge and stood on the deck. He scanned the horizon – before and aft – watching various craft go about their glittering business. Intek was not being followed. They had made good their escape. They were safe. The sun shone, the whitecaps rose pointed in the deep blue around them and the ocean tang flared his nostrils. He came back onto the bridge and stood beside the captain. She indicated a small pile of gumleaves—Want one?

            —No, thanks.

            —You think they lied?

            Again, Gleam said nothing. His eyeline slid over to look at her. Gumfluff took a sidelong glance at him and they shared a look that said: Of course they lied but what are we to do with the truth?

            Gleam broke their gaze first. He looked down and left the bridge. He went to see where Shining Teeth and Hod had put themselves on this homeward bound voyage. He watched them, standing quietly in the sharp midday shadow of the cabin structure. Shining Teeth was sunbaking. She lay as if dead to the world. In contrast, Hod looked as though he could not get comfortable. He twisted into one resting position and almost immediately turned into another. Gleam watched his contortions for a while before leaving the deck. As he did so he passed by Hod and said under his breath—No rest for the wicked, eh, Hod?

            Hod wasn’t even sure what he’d heard, the tiger had passed him by so quickly. His guilt was making him nervous and a little bit paranoid. He stared after Gleam as he strode on those big soft cat paws and the wallaby wondered if the tiger was on to him. How could he have found out? The beetle couldn’t have told his story to another before Shining Teeth chomped him and there hadn’t been a whale sighting since they left the sanctuary. Nah. He was imagining things. Still, it was darned near impossible to get comfortable on this blasted deck.

            Days turned into nights and nights into days and still the journey was as before; the weather held for them, the pirates kept away and the provisions were ample. The only thing that caused them concern was there had been no word from Smacker.

            It was not until the voyage was nearing completion that they had any sign of whales. As they came closer to journey’s end, more and more vessels were sighted on the horizon. Gumfluff was adept at steering around the different craft so usually there was no need to examine them closely. This time though, with the alert given for whale spouts—Whales, Ahoy! the entire crew turned out along the railings to watch for Smacker and his pod. Their pleasure at sighting the whales again turned to impotent rage within moments. The ships seemed to come fast and they came from three different directions and those aboard Intek watched as they quickly closed on the pod’s position. Gleam’s relief at connecting with Smacker’s mind grated quickly into shards of fear as he was overcome by the whales’ desperation in their race away from their pursuers. Gleam felt the impact when the harpoon hit Smacker. When it detonated, the explosion unfortunately missed his brain. Instead Smacker was dragged backwards through the water and up the ramp of the factory ship. Gleam felt him choking as he drowned. Then Gleam was released from Smacker’s mind, forever.

Gleam, Shining Teeth and Hod saw Smacker’s blood run down the ramp in the distance as Intek wallowed in the waves, directionless. With that loss of hope, there was a sudden burst of energy on board Intek. All three watching creatures moved. Hod yelled with fury—Board them!

            Shining Teeth ran to the small dingy and examined it—How can we untie this thing?

            Ram them! cried Hod.

            Gumfluff stood by on the bridge, unable to move, transfixed by the whaling boats. Gleam walked in to stand beside her. He said urgently—Go. Go now.

            Gumfluff turned to look at him. Her eyes were full of tears and she said—Yes. I know.

Hod also came to the door and shouted—Let’s get them!

Then Gumfluff snapped back into the fully disciplined naval officer that Gleam expected to see at the wheel of Intek—Full steam ahead, cried Gumfluff and Carney ran below decks to look after the engine. The smell of burnt chips rose around them, Gumfluff spun the wheel and Intek turned tail and ran.

Gleam looked down at Hod—We’re leaving. He left the crew to their work and came back to stand with Shining Teeth; looking back at the whaling fleet and the red waters boiling around them. Hod bounded back to them—We should do something!

            He's right. We have to show them, agreed Shining Teeth.

            Gleam watched the crocodile with suspicion and something else in his face; something approaching pity. Shining Teeth paid him no attention at all. Why should she? He sympathised with her anger and frustration but she had absolutely no understanding of him—There is nothing to be done here.

            —I don’t believe in your nothing. Shining Teeth did not know what to do with her hatred and rage. She marched up and down the deck, swinging her tail dangerously as she turned. She could not stop moving—I've been foolish. It was humans that killed my husband and my harem. It was humans that have delivered our lands into filth and bondage. It is humans that cause us all great harm and yet I've been misled by Ektek. I've been wasting my time.

            Hod watched her. He was thinking hard.

            —You want to take them on? asked Gleam—You want to kill those humans? How long do you think you’d last? How many do you think you’d get? They utilise sophisticated weaponry. If one should fall, many, many more, will rise in their place.

            —If we must die for the cause then so be it, said Shining Teeth—We must take out as many as we can on the way.

            Gleam looked at the crocodile—They will not be taken out by anything animals might be able to do to them.

—Even a few would do.

—No. They are their own worst enemy, said Gleam—They will pass in time.

            —But what of the creatures they take out with them? There was no answer to that question. They all knew that. In the silence that followed, even Shining Teeth became resigned to the enormity of their problem.

Gleam could see the initial reaction to Smacker’s death had lost its impetus and there was little danger of impulsive reaction from the crocodile now. He left Hod and Shining Teeth and went to stare back over the churning wake. The whaling fleet was still there and Gleam’s heart was broken. He stood on board with the seawind whipping his hair and whiskers around his face. He knew that whatever Shining Teeth and Hod might prepare, humanity would be ready for it and would put them down. Forcibly.

At their side of the railings, Hod watched Shining Teeth. He saw a hardened reptile, a warrior, a returning soldier who had fought many battles—You made me turn against Ektek. You said it was a waste of time.

—Ah, grow up, Wally. You made your choices.

He understood that she was only one and the humans were many but it was an attractive idea, dying for the cause. He could taste the glory when he imagined dying as retribution for the whales that had died; for all the creatures that had suffered at the hands of humans. He stood with Shining Teeth and they watched the whalers recede into the distance; the grey of the sky almost the same as the grey of the water.

—We will avenge him, said Hod.

—Yes, said Shining Teeth—The time is coming when we will avenge them all.

 

 

VI

In the shiver of a raining night, Spark, Bash and Bluey were in hiding under a hardy shrub. They were in an area of the zoo, which demonstrated butterfly-attracting plants for the home garden. Bash was nestled in a fork between the main trunk and a low branch of the shrub. Spark was clinging to a stalk just above him. Bluey was lying damp and miserable on the ground. Their cover was a thin leaved specimen and did not offer much protection from the rain. Not only was it raining, it was dark. The only light source near them came from the security shack. The light glistened on the falling raindrops between them and the shack window.

They were near the rear of the zoo, past the yellow-footed rock wallaby’s new enclosure. Two Bedlam golf carts were parked outside the security shack. A pair of yellow headlights cut through the rain and flashed over the watching creatures. A car stopped momentarily and then proceeded through the boom gate. It parked nearby, turned out the headlights and one of the guards got out and slammed the door. He hurried through the drizzle as though he didn’t like being wet. Bluey knew how he felt. The man carried a brown paper bag. He went inside the shack. The door was left ajar and a cheery electronic drone of massed humans spilled into the yellow slice of light reflecting in the wet footpath outside.

            Bash and Spark looked keenly at Bluey. Water dripped through their shrub. All three were cold. Only Bash didn’t mind but the other two preferred more comfortable habitats.

            Right, mate? said Bash.

            Bluey was sadly unenthusiastic especially now he was wet to the skin. His head lay down on his front paws. He was as wet from the drizzle as though he’d been swimming and he hated swimming. He was despondent. He didn’t understand why Bash and Spark were so excited for him. Even Antenna, though she was too tired to join them in this outing, wished him all the best.

They were putting a brave face on a terrible situation. Spark had overseen an Ektek team that been able to extricate the little plane from the vet’s clinic overnight but when it had come to the she-cat, they found the cool room was filled with plastic bags. There had been too many for them to untie and sort through. Spark had made the call. He reported back to Antenna that they could bring just one of them back, it might have been the feral cat or it might have been any number of other animals cleared from the zoo that week. They might have pretended it was the cat but what if Bluey had wanted to look at her and discovered instead some part of another creature? It could scar an animal for life. Instead of lying to Bluey, they’d explained that all the bodies were going to landfill. She would have her burial, only it would be in a mass grave.

All this had not made Bluey feel any better. He missed his girlfriend. He simply couldn’t understand what was required of him. What job? Why did he have to leave Ektek? He couldn’t even be bothered asking the questions. He was just wet and that was all too much.

            You got the idea? said Spark. He was trying to be helpful and sounded very enthusiastic. It was difficult to keep this perky energy up in the face of Bluey’s lack of response but he felt sorry for the cat. This was a good chance for him—It’s all because of the pandas, yeah? Antenna reckons we’ll be getting hundreds more people through, at least at the start. There’s been all sorts of ceremonies and parties so far, landscaping and plumbers and chippies and sparkies and comings and goings. More than my job’s worth to list everything but the point is, with all the extra eyeballs peering round the place, some stickybeak might notice something about Ektek and we need to know the moment someone gets suspicious about anything, anything at all. So, this is your mission.

            —Can you read? said Bash.

            Bluey sighed—Not really.

            —Shame, said Spark—Antenna seemed to think you might be able to understand some of their noise?

            —Only a tiny bit.

—Really? You can?

—I’d never be able to talk to them but sometimes I can make a bit of sense out of it. I could always tell when they wanted to give me some food, come here, stop that, you know, that sort of thing.

            —Amazing.

            —Not really. They brought me up. They trained me. I used to be a pet. He said ‘pet’ much as though he meant ‘an evil virus’. Nevertheless, Bluey started to feel wistful about being a pet. A nice, dry, fat, pet.

            —Anything you can find out, brilliant, droned Spark enthusiastically—I’ll station a beetle up with you every day – let them know what’s going on – and I’ll pop in for a visit when I can.

            —What do you think, Sparkie? How are we going to get him in?

            —I was thinking they’d love to rescue him. How do you feel about getting stuck in a drain? Bluey made absolutely no response—Up a tree? suggested Spark.

            Bluey flicked Spark a resolutely unimpressed glance and slumped his head back on his paws again.

            Spark! said Bash—Don’t you think he’s been through enough? He’s been vivisected, cast out of the zoo, fought with pirates, nearly drowned and then watched his girlfriend put down. Of all creatures, Bluey really doesn’t need any more pressure.

            Spark agreed. He tried a different angleBluey, you’re valuable to me, mate. If you can read, that’s one thing, but if you can understand any of that horrible noise they make, well, that’s brilliant. I’d really like your help with security matters. You’d be like, a spy.

            —But you have to make an effort, Bluey, said Bash—Ektek can’t support you. You’re displaced, friendless and a danger to wildlife. You have to make your own way. We can’t help you any more. Do you understand?

            Bluey turned his head further away to avoid the continual hectoring and, as his neck twisted, his nostrils caught a whiff of a most attractive scent. Bluey sat up. His natural feline curiosity got the better of him. He analysed the smell. It appeared to be a gorgeous amalgam of meat, cheese, salad and bread bun. Bluey had not eaten for days, not since the she-cat was destroyed in front of him. He began to dribble. Bash’s voice echoed in his head, resonated in his heart: displaced, friendless and a danger to wildlife, and those feelings of worthlessness began to mix in with the fragrant feeling of what could only be …  hamburger.

As though hypnotised, Bluey stood up and rose to his four paws. He arched his back high into the air. He stretched this way and that and felt the blood flowing through him and the scent of greasy minced meat twined round his stomach and gave a mighty tug. The idea that he might be able to change his cat status from unwanted waif to spy was quietly thrilling but the aromatic tease coming from that security shed was irresistible. 

He began walking. His nose was elevated and traced scattered atoms of cooked animal fats. His feet followed where his nose led. He continued tracking on that path as if in a trance and soon reached the door of the security hut. He didn’t even pause but went straight in.

Spark and Bash rushed out of cover and ran to stare around the corner into the warm shed at this shocking transgression. Bluey was wet to the skin which accentuated his thin frame. He had a desperate demeanour. He did not hesitate. He jumped straight onto the largest man’s lap and began kneading his leg; not in a bad dig-in-the-claw way but in a comfortable, reassuring, friendly way. The man got a bit of a fright but nothing much would loosen this particular man’s hold on a hamburger so there was no danger of him dropping it. Bluey made himself comfortable and sat down as if he’d known this man all his life. The man held his hamburger aloft and stared at the other two security guards, then back down to Bluey as if to ask if they too saw this outrage. The three humans gabbled on for a moment, squarking and clucking but, the astounding thing to Spark and Bash watching from outside, the man made absolutely no move to shift Bluey away from his lap. Bluey had chosen well, it seemed. This man must be a cat lover. How could he have known? Spark and Bash looked on half in amazement and half in horror as Bluey did the best cute acting they’d ever seen in their life—He looks just like a pet, said Bash in tones of quiet awe.

—Pet, spy, what’s the difference? More than anything else, Spark was Ektek’s head of security and a practical kind of beetle—So long as he stays on our side.

The humans had an array of screens in front of them, not dissimilar to the Ektek display, showing black-and-white images of zones around the zoo. One square of glass was set apart from the others, the one making that buzzing, raucous sound. It showed a green background with humans, dressed all in white, standing around waiting for something.

Once the hubbub of human braying – the reaction to this bold feline trespass – had died down, the man was left staring at Bluey with something that might have been respect in his eye. Then he reached over with his free hand and patted Bluey gently on the head. Spark and Bash were agog. They stared at this astounding behaviour and then back to each other again with their mouths hanging open. Quickly they looked back into the cosy shed to see the man break off a piece of mince patty from his burger and wave it in front of Bluey. Bluey ate it politely and pushed his head up against the man’s hand as if in gratitude. It was such endearing behaviour that the man could not resist. He broke off another piece of meat and gave that to Bluey. Then one of the other men found a circular ceramic dish of some kind, filled it with milk and set it down on the floor. Bluey jumped down and started to drink. As he drank the other man grabbed a towel and rubbed the feline all over until his fur stood up. Bluey lapped the milk up and jumped back to his ‘favourite’ man again. The men all cackled together for a moment and eventually turned their attention back to the green-and-white television set. While he watched the screen, the man absent-mindedly patted the cat. Bluey shut his eye and gave a great sigh. Everyone relaxed and Spark and Bash imagined they might even be able to hear … Could it be? It was. Bluey was purring. Purring like a fat kitten! At his age!

He’s in! said Spark.

You got to hand it to him, said Bash—That’s one class cat.

Bash and Spark turned away from the yellow light, the smell of hamburgers and the babble of humans. They returned to the dark, the rain and their duties as members of Ektek.

 

 

VIII

Hod ran into the control centre. He was desperate to see Antenna. He stopped in the doorway. Intek had moored moments before and some urgent instinct had driven Hod inside to see Antenna first. The others were still making Intek fast and offloading spare provisions. Hod stood in the doorway and watched Antenna. He had not seen her large with child before. He was taken aback. Antenna had not seen him yet. He paused, observed her and then came in slower. He understood that life would be different for Antenna now. Life would probably be different for them all.

            Anti? he said quietly so as not to disturb her too much.

            She looked around slowly, dreamily, and when she saw who it was, jumped up. She ran to him and they touched foreheads and breathed together, mingling their thoughts and their air. Only after this initial welcome calmed did she think of the many different things that might have happened on their voyage and she stepped back to see him better—Crawf?

            —He has renounced Ektek.

            —What?

            —He will have nothing to do with Ektek.

            —What happened?

            Hod could not answer her. Shame pumped through him and she could tell; she knew something was wrong. He could not face her and he could not hide it.

            What, Hod? Tell me. What happened? What did she do?

            —I can’t.

            —Hod, she will destroy us. She will destroy Ektek.

            —She won’t.

            —Hod, said Antenna, panting—I think she already has. With that Antenna gasped at a pain in her belly. She became still and listened to herself, then she doubled over as though she’d been punched and struggled to breathe. She couldn’t balance properly and slid to the ground. Hod stood looking at her – poised to help or run for help or … He knew not what. He was terrified. She rolled onto her side and, sucking in air for power, said on the exhalation—Get Eid. Hod did not wait to hear more. He leapt out of the control centre and ran to the hangar to alert every single creature he could find. Antenna lay on the ground in terrible pain. She sighed—Eid, where are you? before she lost consciousness.

           


Chapter Sixteen

 

I

The control centre became a centre of pain. The epicentre was Antenna’s nest of shredded bark. Antenna lay there, or rather could not lie but shifted constantly. She could only concentrate on her core. All around her was a whirl of concern. She was not aware of anything outside her.

            The glow-worms tried to shed as much light as they could. Eid had brought the mother numbat in for support and she murmured words of love and encouragement. No one knew what Antenna could hear. She had shut down to that inner place, close to the edge of the world, where only she could urge her babies to enter life and where she could find herself and focus on existence. She could not help uttering small yelps and groans in reaction to her body’s changes.

Eid felt slashed every time he heard her.

            Bash, Gleam, Hod, Shining Teeth, Gumfluff and Carney waited in the hangar with all the other Ektek animals. Eid rushed past every now and then, frantic with worry and keen on some purpose or other that the mother numbat had set him to keep him doing meaningful work. One, he must fetch water. Two, he must fetch fresh bedding bark. Three, he must discard waste bedding materials. Four, he must take a message to mother numbat’s own children. Five, he must stay put in the numbat enclosure. Six, no really, he had to stay visible to the keepers. Seven, no, she really meant it or she would have to leave Antenna by herself. Eight, would he please get out of here?

            At each meeting of Eid and the mother numbat he insisted that Antenna be taken to the numbat enclosure, for her own safety; and that of the as yet unborn children. He insisted that her keeper would forgive everything once it was realised she was with child. Then she would receive the medical attention she so obviously needed. Then she would be safe and the babies would have a better chance of survival.

Mother numbat knew that Antenna could not be moved now.  She also knew that nature would take its own course; and she knew that sometimes nature took the long way round just for the journey. Mother numbat tried her best to reassure Eid but she knew Antenna was in difficulty. None of her own progeny had been birthed with such trouble. Mother numbat was almost as worried as Eid himself. What could they do but carry on? He insisted, she reassured, and so it went, for a long time.

            The animals out in the hangar fretted and worried and teased and blamed each other. Bash sat up on the red steam car and demanded Hod tell him everything about Crawf. Gradually the whole Philavian story came out and gradually Gleam, listening in, came closer and closer to the wallaby. When Smacker was killed Gleam’s suspicions had been stilled by his concerns over Shining Teeth and Hod’s anger. Now Gleam’s worst fears were realised. He blamed himself and worried for Crawf.

Bash wanted to know why on earth Hod could have possibly thought it was a good idea to release all the birds and Gleam wanted to know if he imagined they all got out of the aviary unscathed? Both wanted to know how Crawf had reacted and given all their worries and given they were all tired after their different travels and given they were all hungry too, there was a rising tide of anger and frustration developing among them all.

            Voices grew louder and more strident. Barbs grew sharper and struck targets more forcefully. Just at the utmost of the mounting reproaches and recriminations, in walked a ginger cat, already tamer and better fed, but still Bluey. He jumped to the top of the wingship and landed thud, thud. He stalked over the wings like an actor taking control of his stage. He strode downstage centre and loomed over the crowd. He piped a shrill whistle (an old farm trick his girlfriend had taught him out on the wetlands) and called the rabble to attention—Oi! he yelled—Pull yourselves together! I’ve got some news, yeah? The pandas have arrived. They’re still in crates on the back of two large trucks waiting to be unloaded. There’s media, there’s dignitaries, there’s a heck of a lot of people all watching, all snooping, all around. It’s a blooming circus at Bedlam today. I suggest everyone needs to get back on duty immediately. We all need to be front and centre and normal – at once. And keep the noise down. The last thing we need is nosy parkers sticking their big fat hooters in where we don’t want ‘em.

            Creatures swallowed their pride and left the hangar abashed. They went away quietly to their respective enclosures. Bluey jumped down from the wingship and, intending a brief word with Spark about security issues, said—What are they on about; all their selfish concerns running away with them? Obviously Antenna needs peace and quiet and all they’re doing is unleashing a tempest! I could hear the noise outside! What’re they thinking? How dare they?

Spark could see these were rhetorical questions and completely agreed with every drop of indignation—I know, mate, I know.

            Then Spark, Bluey and Manifold went back to their duties leaving only Gleam on guard outside the control centre. He lay like a sphinx, belly to ground, forepaws parallel outstretched in front, tail wrapped around his haunch. His ears flipped to attention, listening into the quiet, breathing in the calm, wondering when the next storm would hit.

Into that fragile peace came a tiny plaintive numbat cry.

            Gleam breathed in a great slow breath. He was overcome. He blinked. He found it hard to see. His vision blurred. His eyes were full. One tear balanced, overflowed and rolled slowly down his great sphinx face.

 

 

II

Bash and Hod were seated in the driver’s pod of the tank. Shining Teeth could not fit in so she was draped over the edge of the trap door, peering down at the computer screen, which was dark and fuzzy. It was Panda Cam. All three creatures were tired and dirty. They had been digging, fruitlessly. The animals had made an abortive attempt to dig their way into the new panda area. They failed. The tunnel no longer fed into what used to be the yellow-footed rock wallaby enclosure. Ektek collapsed the tunnel in case landscape workers noticed something untoward and decided to investigate. Then, during the construction of the new panda area, walls had been dug down deep, creating foolproof fortification for the precious icons.

The pandas were extremely well protected. After their attempted break in, Bash, Hod and Shining Teeth agreed they would see more on-line and, as Antenna was still recovering in the control centre, they came to the tank to watch the media fawning over the latest arrivals at Bedlam Zoo.

Painted human faces filled the screen and opened and shut their mouths endlessly. Pictures of the pandas lying in their new home did not impress Hod, Shining Teeth or Bash but the humans seemed to explode with joy every time footage of one of them doing something was shown; anything at all. Eating was just fantastic. Sitting down was awesome. Having a big old wee was thrilling. They didn’t see a bowel movement but presumably the humans would literally go ape over that. The people prattle seemed to be on every link, every page, except Panda Cam so the three Ektek creatures did without the bleating commentary and expert interviews and watched the black-and-white fluff balls in colour and in silence.

            Are they going to do anything?

            —Jet lagged. Poor buggers.

            It was boring watching the slow moving creatures get acclimatised to their cages and, after a time, Bash looked around the tank as though he were on a historical tour—So, tell us, Hod. Is this the very screen you were watching when you ran away? Bash smiled at Hod, feeling superior and not a little smug.

            Shining Teeth perked up immediately she heard Bash’s tone and turned to Hod. She was just on the edge of jeering when she said to him—You ran away? In a tank? From what? Or should I ask, from whom?

            Hod shook his head at Bash, daring him to say more but before the little frog could open his mouth, which he had every intention of doing, Hod threw caution out the window and turned to face Shining Teeth—It was you.

—Little old me? said Shining Teeth, loving it—Surely, you’re not scared of me?

—It was when you killed those dogs.

            —Those pets, you mean?

            —Those animals, yes; the guard dogs.

            —Trained attack lap dogs. They were slaves; unquestioning, slavering, obedient, adoring puppets in the service of human masters. They were nothing more than extensions of their controller’s brain, doing their human dirty work like robots. What sort of life is that for an animal? Worse than a performing seal clapping for a fish. How demeaning. I set them free! I was the one who made them independent! They’re not slaves anymore and they can thank me for that. I didn’t kill them, I recognised them. They’d be grateful if we could ask them. There’s nothing better than dying for such a just cause. The liberty and honour of animals is surely and absolutely the highest reward a creature can aspire to.

            Bash nodded thoughtfully.

Hod looked as if he had a bitter taste in his mouth—Bit revisionist?

            Shining Teeth carried on—What else can we do in these days of human power? They have all the cards. They’re literally all over the world with their agricultural poisons and their residential developments. Everywhere I’ve travelled I’ve seen human beings and their detritus. Not only is their waste scattered over every part of the land, it’s all over the ocean as well! There’s no room left for animals! We have to make a stand. This would be a good start, don’t you think?

            She looked at Hod and Bash. They were taken aback, not knowing what she meant. She continued—They’d surely take notice then.

            —When? said Bash in a small voice.

            When we do it.

            —What?

            This, Shining Teeth indicated the computer screens with her head—Them. The pandas.

            Hod felt slightly nauseous—What are you talking about, Shining Teeth?

            —Think about it, said Shining Teeth.

            You want to set them free? asked Hod. He was only slightly nervous—Like the birds?

            That’s it. That’s it exactly. I want to give those cute fluffy pandas their liberty. And what’s more, you two are going to help me do it.

            Hod and Bash looked at each other. They certainly had a desire to do something to help the cause but there was a risk involved when dealing with Shining Teeth. She had the power, she had the energy, she had the rage but she also had that unpredictable inclination to go that bit too far. Hod and Bash could see that if they followed this particular crocodile unthinkingly they might not like what happened next.

            By the way, Shining Teeth watched them with interest—If you don’t help me I’ll tell your little friend Antenna the story of the wally woo woo who ran away from the university laboratory. I don’t think she’d like that story very much.  I don’t think she’d ever trust you again, would she. I can’t see you’ve got much choice. It’s all or nothing, now.

            There was no need to convince Bash. He was won over and he sat up straight, listening to Shining Teeth with sincerity and hope in his eyes. He needed no persuasion. He’d felt the power of the gun out in the wetlands. He could not live with himself if all he could be was a helpless bystander. He was ready to follow Shining Teeth. He was ready for action. He was ready to do whatever it took.

Hod was not converted. He could not rid himself of a deep sense of guilt and an undertow of fear. 

Shining Teeth looked at Bash and nodded. Then she turned to Hod and said—Well?

Hod said—Don’t tell Antenna.

             We’ve got a lot of work to do, said Shining Teeth, bustling to be off—No time to lose. Let’s get on with it.

           


III

Eid and Antenna walked very slowly down a corridor. Eid had his mouth full. He carried a tiny scrap of numbat gently at the back of her neck. Antenna bumped into the wall. She leaned for a moment and Eid tried to support her. She broke free and tried to walk on but, like the bursting of a dam, pent up words bubbled up from her body and spilled out to him—I don’t want you to hate me, please don’t hate me I know I should have gone to the vet. I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault they died I didn’t know I was trying to work I was trying to do everything and you told me I know you did you said I should go back to the enclosure but I wanted to wait and I wanted … and I wanted …

            Eid put the tiny scrap down on the ground and turned to Antenna. She was melting with distress. His heart went out to her and he said—Antenna. I love you. Nothing will change that. Ever. Tell me.

She tried to pull herself together and Eid waited for her. He repeated very softly—Tell me what you wanted.

            —I wanted …

            —Yes?

            She looked at him and spoke clearly—I wanted our babies to be born free; to exist without having to know humans; to not to have to rely on them. I hardly knew that then, I couldn’t have said that in words before but that’s the reason I didn’t want to go back to the enclosure.

            Eid stood with her for a moment and leaned in to her. He whispered—You’re doing the right thing. Then he picked up the rusty ball of fluff in his mouth again and waited for Antenna to move. She could not. She remained propped against the wall. She said—What if I get cleared?

            Eid breathed in and then gently set the little one down again—You’re not going to get cleared.

            —They cleared Bluey’s girlfriend.

            —Bluey’s girlfriend was a feral cat with diseases, parasites and an uncontrollable habit of eating wildlife; probably numbats if she’d been given half a chance. They’re going to love you. You know that. I’m with you. Okay? You ready?

            Antenna nodded and Eid carried their baby all the way to the numbat enclosure. The other numbats clustered around them and made her feel part of the family right away.  Mother numbat saw Antenna was comfortable and nestled into her neck for a moment. She whispered—It takes a village to raise a child. You are doing the right thing.

            Antenna stared at her and nodded. Then she lay back with her baby nursing comfortably and waited for the keeper to arrive. She was home again.


Chapter Seventeen

 

I

Eid had taken to popping in to visit the moon-bear whenever he could. She was still housed in the vet’s enclosure and there was no word of how much longer she would be there. He didn’t have much of a relationship with her but he thought it was worth persevering. Seeing as he was the one who had rescued her, he felt responsible for her welfare and he didn’t know if she talked with anyone else. He suspected not. He’d been sneaking closer and closer to her each visit until now he was able to sit almost right beside her without her limping away or begging to be let into her night quarters. There had even been a couple of times when she’d taken a swipe at him. She seemed to have accepted him now and they would sit quietly and exchange a few words relatively peacefully. Well, he did most of the talking but she had told him one or two things about herself.

Over time he’d discovered her name was Ginseng and, finally, she agreed with him, yes, after all, it was better to be out of a cage. She was gaining in strength and looked glossy and almost fat. But she felt in limbo. She didn’t know how long she would stay here. She didn’t know where she might go. She only knew what was happening day-to-day, hour-to-hour, minute-to-minute. She was living in uncertainty and that couldn’t help but make her feel frustrated. Eid empathised completely. That was as far as their conversation had gone, at least on her side.

Eid, on the other paw, told her everything about his family; how Antenna had found it difficult giving birth; how from the outset he’d wanted her to go back to the numbat’s enclosure but she hadn’t wanted to go; how two of the babies had died but the one survivor was as tough as her mum and they’d called her Zip Too after another Zip that Eid hadn’t known. When the keeper had found mother and child snug in the enclosure, in the same time and place as Eid, he’d brought the in vet to examine her but the vet had done nothing more than observe them from the edge of the enclosure. What theories they’d come up with for her reappearance in the zoo, Eid couldn’t imagine but so far they’d kept her out of the limelight and there’d been none of those flashy media stunts that Antenna had been dreading. Antenna had even been able to pop back to visit Gleam in the control centre a couple of times but in the main she was happy to stay put in the enclosure, look after Zip Too and recover.

On one of these visits, as Eid poured out his thoughts to Ginseng in the vet’s enclosure, a strange high buzz came through the air. It was late afternoon, after closing time and the zoo was clear of all but those humans who thought they were essential; mainly Bluey’s hard working team of hamburger-eating security guards. Most of the animals and birds were in their night housing. The high hum sliced through the sky and seemed to centre over the panda enclosure. Eid looked up and saw it was the little plane circling over the zoo. Both Eid and Ginseng watched as the plane looped the loop and tilted into some wild and crazy acrobatics. It was a chipper demonstration, one that straightened the backs of the watchers as they stared up into the sky. It made them glad they were alive to witness such death defying antics, such devilry in the heavens. It was after a particularly spectacular loop that the pilot, and Eid assumed it must have been Bash, pointed his nose to the ground and dived straight down with full power. There was no last minute U turn. Just directly, immediately, headfirst, nosedive down.

Eid saw the puff of smoke before he heard the muffled crash.

            Almost at the same time he heard the screams, both human and animal, and he rose to his feet, fighting the urge to be sick. What was happening? What was going on? A siren started up and Eid could hear engines and running feet around the zoo.

Suddenly, awfully, the crocodile Shining Teeth was upon him, she had burst through his carefully disguised tunnel entrance. He stood, stunned at her appearance. She was covered in blood and was threshing around wildly as she made straight for Ginseng. Eid ran between them crying—Stop!

            Shining Teeth simply grabbed his leg, jerked him off balance and whipped him out of her way. Ginseng heard the bone crack as his front leg broke. However, Eid’s effort had bought Ginseng some time to prepare for Shining Teeth’s deranged assault and the bear was able to find stability on her three feet before the croc came hurtling at her.  Shining Teeth was put off balance herself by attempting to attack what she expected would be a front paw but grabbed instead on a something that was not there.

In her turn, Ginseng rose up on her hind legs and dropped her full weight on the reptile before attempting to grab some part of the attacker with her teeth. The croc spun away, thrashing and squirming to get free of the bear’s weight. As Shining Teeth spun out of reach, Eid tried to get between them again, perhaps to reason with the magnums, not having any clear idea or thought in his head, not knowing what was wrong with Shining Teeth and he hardly even knew when Shining Teeth reached up and grabbed him by the head and pulled him to the ground. Ginseng heard his neck snap as Shining Teeth twisted him down.

            When Ginseng saw that Eid was destroyed, desperation flooded through her, giving her strength she might only have imagined as a young cub in far off wilds. Again she rose up on her hind legs. She managed to scoop the crocodile up with her front stump, using her sharp claws on the other paw to pin the reptile in a bear hug. Energised by rage and by sadness Ginseng bit into the soft pale neck in front of her and tore backwards, letting the blood spurt. Shining Teeth’s madness was hardly abated and she fought for her life, kicking and scrabbling with her legs and thrashing wildly with the full length of her enormous body. The magnums, bear and crocodile twisted and strained together in a concentrated battle. Finally Shining Teeth managed to wrench herself free and ran to the tunnel where she disappeared with an armoured flick of her bloodied tail.

            Ginseng lowered herself down to Eid’s body and wept for the waste of a life and for the loss of her only friend. Then she looked around and saw the mess that the crocodile had left by the tunnel. Ginseng bowed her head, thought for a moment and then picked up the broken numbat. She carried him over to the entrance and pushed him gently into the tunnel. She lay on her side and pushed him in as far as her good arm would allow. Then she began scooping and smoothing to obliterate any sign of the tunnel. When she finished she went to sit down in her normal spot. She was numb. She stared into space in front of her for a while. Then she called, softly—Ektek? Ektek? and a longicorn beetle appeared beside her. This beetle had the longest antenna Ginseng had ever seen but she did not consider the beauty of the creature. She only knew Ektek had to be informed of Eid’s whereabouts and most importantly, warned that finally, dangerously, Shining Teeth had gone completely mad.

 

 

II

High panic reigned in the tunnels and byways of Ektek. Creatures ran through the gloom this way and insects flittered another. A lorikeet flew desperately through the hangar. A spiny crayfish hid in a crevice. A whirlygig beetle cried for its mother. All was movement and cacophony, worry and chaos. Sirens could still be heard from the zoo above. Into all this alarm flew a beautiful longicorn beetle. She sought someone in charge in vain. Then she sought someone stationary, someone who might be able to listen to her tale. Eventually, she found Manifold who agreed to listen momentarily—Don’t you know there’s an emergency on?

            Longicorn beetle said—Number One.

            Manifold looked her up and down and said—Well, you haven’t come far, have you.

            —No. Not far.

            —Haven’t you heard? The pandas are dead, said Manifold.

The longicorn nodded and said—And there's more

As Manifold listened with growing horror and the longicorn danced out her information, Bluey ran past heading for the control centre. There, he burst into a gathering consisting of Spark, Gleam, Antenna, Gumfluff and Carney. They moved to make space for him and watched him speak. Tears welled up in his eyes and his voice cracked—He was my friend! I saved his life! What a joke. He goes and throws it away. How dare he! What is a life worth? I had imagined kittens and I was shattered for them and they didn’t even exist! He was alive and he saved my life and yet he killed a panda for the sake of what? Doing something? Because he felt frustrated?

Antenna stepped forward and lifted a paw to pat him on his arm. He stopped speaking and let her soothe him. Then, in a calmer voice, he gave them the latest security update, as he’d understood it from the human security guards. It was true. The pandas had both been killed. The humans believed the nosediving plane was some kind of incendiary device. Both pandas had been strafed and then, the humans believed, some kind of small bomb had directly hit one of the pandas. Bluey looked around the group and took a deep breath—It was Bash, deliberately flying into the poor beast. The other panda, suffering from bullet wounds, was then slashed or possibly attacked by some kind of wild animal. This could only have been Shining Teeth. I just can’t believe it, Antenna. Not Bash. How could he? What must have he been thinking when the panda looked up at him falling to earth, what must he have thought when he drilled into an innocent creature?

Spark confirmed that both Shining Teeth and Hod were nowhere to be found. The group of animals still looked at each other in shock, still unable to find words to express feelings or thoughts, when Manifold stalked into the room accompanied by the longicorn. That’s when Antenna’s world shifted yet again.

Gumfluff and Carney left immediately to take Eid’s body back to the numbat enclosure while Bluey and Spark went to interview the moon bear. Antenna quietly crumpled into a heap. Her baby was being tended by Mother numbat back at the enclosure while she supposedly helped Ektek work out what was to be done about the pandas. In behind her fallen form the computer screens carried online news and grabs coming from free-to air-networks. Human faces revealed revulsion and shock. All was sorrow and anger that anything so inhumane could be done; to deliberately maul and kill pandas, that iconic species, was inconceivable. Subtitles rolled across the screen as interviews with police, zoo officials and government representatives repeated that whomsoever was to blame would be held accountable and would pay.

Antenna lay quiet, almost insensible, at the news of Eid’s death. She was fallen and sunken and limp. Gleam sent Manifold to fetch the mother numbat and then, once alone with her, he said to Antenna—You have to get up. You must not give up. You must go to your child. Antenna moaned and said—The keepers can bottle feed the baby. I cannot.

Gleam said—You must. You have no choice. That baby needs her mother more than anyone else in the world. Would you sentence your child, Eid’s child, to be an orphan?

—Eid’s child. I can’t …

—She needs her mother and you have to get up right now.

Antenna tried to stand but she could not. She looked up helplessly at Gleam and said—Give me some time.

Gleam said—There is no time. You must get up. You must go to your family.

—She’s done it, hasn’t she, said Antenna—She’s destroyed Ektek. She said she would and she has.

—I don’t know that she can … said Gleam, thoughtful—How can you destroy something that exists all over the world, that is beyond animals and insects and fish … Isn’t Ektek in all life?

—I think she has.

—Well, in that case, we can’t give up, Antenna. We can’t let Ektek go like that. She mustn’t win. We have to keep fighting. You have to stay safe and you have to keep going.

The Mother numbat was near and came to support Antenna. Together they walked out of the control centre. Antenna leaned against Mother numbat and her eyes were filled with tears. It was difficult to walk but she did and Gleam watched them go. Then Gleam went to the computer. He typed out an email. He addressed it to the zoo’s vets and copied in global veterinary organisations. In the subject line he put; ‘Universal Euthanasia’ and it said:

After the panda atrocity, it is time that all the animals of the zoo were put down. The zoo has served its purpose. Trapped animals do not enjoy their limited lives. Humans do not, as a rule, enjoy seeing them incarcerated in small cages. Zoos are holding up the process of extinction, which most humans seem to desire, and they are little more than freak shows wrapped in designer educational packaging. If a creature is extinct in the wild, then it should be gone from captivity too. Let extinction be extinction. All this inbreeding into bottleneck generations can hardly be expected to garner strong stock for future biodiversity. Let every soul be free. Let evolution have full reign. If humans are to win the competition, then let it be so. The victors take the habitat. The losers die.

Gleam crafted his plea to be as urgent and meaningful as he could make it. He sat and pondered over it for a very long time. His great claw hovered over ‘send’ but in the end he did not press send. He pressed ‘cancel’ and then ‘don’t save’ and the email disappeared, never to be seen again. He logged out of the computer system and turned everything off.

            Then he went into the machine cage and stood at the workbench. He assembled some tools in front of him: a wrench, some pliers and a machete. He looked around the workspace and saw the grinder that Hod had used when first making the guns to fit on Bash’s plane. After looking at the machine for some time from different angles, Gleam managed to turn it on. It hummed away, the grinding barrel turning, turning, turning … Gleam opened his mouth and attempted to bite the spinning rock. His teeth bounced away from the force. His head jerked backwards. He had to take a step to balance himself. Then he tried again, holding his lips back from his teeth in case he might catch flesh when bringing his teeth against the spin. He could not hold his teeth against the grinder. His head flicked back again.

This would not do. He turned off the machine and, in the pleasant silence, went back to the tools lying in a line on the workbench. He found he was able to manipulate the pliers with two paws together. He sat up on his haunches and applied the pliers to one of his big canine teeth. He managed to get a firm grip. He bent his head forward until his spine curved and then he pulled down on the pliers and pulled back with his head and dragged the tooth forcefully out of his gum. The pain caused his eyes to water and he blinked to keep the tears away so he could see what he was doing. He carried on, grabbing the next tooth with the jaws of the pliers. His mouth was swollen by the time all the teeth were collected, bloody and wet with spit on the bench. Then he turned to his claws. He could do one paw with the pliers but he could not manage the other. He put the next claw into the vice and wound around to keep it firm. He could not help gasping as he accidentally brushed against the bleeding paw pushing the handle of the vice around. Then, holding the machete in his bleeding mouth, he dropped the blade through the pad containing the claw. With great difficulty he undid the vice and moved to the next claw. Every now and then he would stumble. He cried out once or twice. Once he even fell. It was impossible to staunch the flow of blood. His breathing became harsh and difficult. Then he finished. He had ripped out all his own teeth and claws.

           

 

III

Shining Teeth and Hod had come to rest. They were in hiding in the sewer system under the city. They sat in a large cylinder of drips and stench and giggled hysterically. The smell may have been rank but they were safe, at least for the moment. Finally they calmed down enough to speak. Hod, seeking grounding, said—We can’t go back, can we?

            Shining Teeth looked at him—What do you mean, we? I never could go back any which way.

            —No, but my family?

            —You can kiss them all goodbye, can’t you.

            Hod stared at her as if she had started to speak human gobbledegook. Her assumptions about him had been difficult to accept previously but now it was absolutely impossible. No, he couldn’t. He could not leave his family. Not finally. Not forever. Kiss them goodbye? What? He watched the croc as she spoke, with determined certainty growing in his mind. He couldn’t be forced to choose between his family and a crocodile. She banged on some more, not recognising that his loyalty had suddenly slipped and gone from her—We’re animals non-grata my little wally woo woo. You killed those pandas sure as …

            —It was Bash! And you!

            —Who stole the little plane from the hangar? Who armed and prepared it for flight? Who broke into the panda’s enclosure to start with? Who has blood all down their front? There’s no use backing away now, Wally boy, you’re at war.

            —War? But … who are we fighting?

            —Who do you think?

            —I didn’t …

            At his hesitation, something snapped in the rogue crocodile and she seemed to double in size. She began to spew forth long-held philosophies powered with the sudden release of long-held vehemence and the certain knowledge that might is always right—Aren’t you sick of running, hiding, cowering and slithering into corners that knives, nets and poisons can’t reach? Why must we be creatures of the shadows and drains, running always from the pets of men who delight in killing for blood lust; those ferals that humans have bred for sport and profit; dogs, foxes, pigs and goats, who steal our food and our homes?

            In his turn, Hod felt himself shrinking, appalled, reaching for the kinder thoughts that he’d grown up with—That’s not the way Ektek thinks …

—Ektek? Who cares what Ektek thinks! Shining Teeth almost laughed—We have to go back to the old ways; animals should kill other creatures if they invade their territory, and that includes humans. Don’t you feel invaded?

—But we can’t keep fighting all our lives?

            —That’s all we can do. Finish them before they finish us.

—But …

—But what, wally? Shining Teeth had thought he was with her and his indecision was making her angry. She looked at him and she did not like what she saw there—What exactly is your problem?

—Ektek believe killing for the sake of killing is vile.

—Ektek, Ektek, Ektek is a waste of time, a pathetic helpless band of do-gooders who have absolutely no idea. Tell me. When is it right to kill? No, don’t tell me. Surely it’s right to kill them before they kill us? Don’t we have a right to live? Weren’t we created before men?

            —What about dignity and honour?

—What about it? What about living? You’re starting to sound like that agonised tiger …

—But aren’t we as bad as them, if we go round killing them? Besides, in a battle, who would win? Who holds all the weapons?

—If we are, if any animal is, to stand upon an earth with no humans left, then we must seek them everywhere. Not one human can be allowed to survive, not in a cave, not in a sliver of space between forest trees, not in a submarine in the depths of the ocean, not in a space ship sailing between the stars. We will find them and we will finish them and we will never let the great apes rise again. For they spell death and destruction. Their daily activities despoil the land, the air above, the sea below and clog the pores of the earth itself as they mine the ground for their short-lived riches. The rule of humanity is all pervasive. There is nowhere to run. Our brethren who survive in large numbers only do so because humans see them as useful. But we can’t be jealous of a cow or a sheep or a racehorse or even a bright fish selected to swim before nervous dental patients. Imagine their lives, hemmed in by fences, continual performance demands and stale monochromatic food …

—How do you know all this stuff?

—Come on. I’ve seen their television and their internet. So have you. So, tell me, how is it that humans have the power to destroy our home many times over and can choose to select the species they think are worthy? Not only a species, but the very DNA itself is chosen, and finally, fatefully, they let the rest go to extinction in a hand basket? Tell me this, wally woo woo; when did humans rise so far above their animal stature they can no longer see their own navels? Humans have changed the course of evolution. Now, it’s time for the animals to do our own choosing.

            —But, the first strike was against us! The pandas hadn’t done anything to you …

            —Do you think the humans will be hurting? Aren’t the pandas the prettiest of the icons?

            —Yes …

            —Now we go and finish the job.

            —What?

            —We let loose the magnums, all of them, and the snakes and the venomous creatures of the world. We’ve got hundreds of years of retribution to score. For all their sins against us, humans are going to pay. With their lives. Shining Teeth stood and prepared to go—Which way to the reptile house? Hey, which way to justice?

            Any giggle remaining in Hod had long gone. When he’d trespassed and let Shining Teeth into the panda enclosure he'd had no idea he was fighting any more than one little battle. He’d always imagined he’d be able to go right back to his family and live in the inadequate enclosure and carry on just as before but now he understood that he had been playing a treacherous game. He clearly had not understood the rules. Here at endgame, he really did not want to play any more. He stared at the expectant crocodile and hope died within him. He suddenly saw what Shining Teeth had become and he could not stand the sight of her. She was filled with a sort of self-importance, a weird animal royalty; she was pumped up with her speech and high-flying words. It was as though she had been speaking to all the animals in the world but really it had just been him, little old Hod, Wally woo woo, sitting in a sewer. He felt as if he’d looked into a distorting mirror only he suddenly understood that the distortion was the real beast and he’d been trapped by his desire for action, any action, without imagining what that meant, what it could look like. He felt horribly cold and he knew, with a kind of gross nauseating epiphany, he had strayed onto the wrong path—Shining Teeth?

            —Yeah?

            —I don’t want to be at war.

            —Bit late now.

            —Maybe but I have to go.

            Shining Teeth turned to look back at him and he hesitated no more. He ran, he bounded, he flew away from her; he knew she must not catch him for she would kill him easily.

She watched him go with little emotion clouding her view—Bye, bye, Hoddy woo woo. Don’t worry. I can find the reptiles all by myself. I can find all the Ektek crew, too. Then, I’ll come find you. Guess you’re endangered in all sorts of ways.


Chapter Eighteen

 

I

Drips of bloody paw prints splashed the dirt floor of the hangar. Shining Teeth followed the trail to the machine cage where she found Gleam lying in his bed. He was bloody. He was misshapen and swollen. His paws were red raw and his mouth was sunken and smeared with blood and dribble. She swaggered up to him and smiled, as only a crocodile can. She said—What happened to you?

            Gleam had trouble forming words with his toothless mouth. The letters were slurred and pain confused him. He had to resort to a whisper—Took your time.

            Shining Teeth leaned in close to hear him. She could hardly control her giggling as he struggled to make himself understood. She longed to mock him yet didn’t want to engage her victim in humour. She wanted to kill him, pure and simple but she had one more question for him—Why didn’t you stop me?

            Can’t take responsibility for your actions.

            —What if I simply don’t care what I do?

            —Then you won’t mind when you’re hunted down and made into a pair of shoes with matching handbag.

            —I make that an ‘if’.

            The whisper came with added hurt—Nothing is more certain.

—Nothing? she sneered.

—I am disarmed.

—Disarmed! Shining Teeth laughed or barked or she might have cleared her throat of catarrh; it was a sound of such ugliness—I could have killed you any time I liked.

—What are you waiting for?

—Your last words.

Gleam could barely turn his head to see her properly but he made his eyes focus on her and he made her connect with his empathy and he made her hear him as he whispered—I forgive you.

Shining Teeth stared at him, his watery eyes, his dishevelled coat, his bloodied paws and his dribbling mouth. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. How dare he forgive her? Then she attacked.

Gleam relaxed at last and found his roaring instinct, found his deep urge to kill, to rend, to unleash and he let loose and he was free, flying into infinite, deep, crimson pain.

           

 

II

Antenna sat in the numbat enclosure where she could see the entrance to the Ektek tunnels. She could see when Gumfluff and Carney arrived with Eid’s body and she waited where she was when the numbats helped to carry him in and lie him down beside her. Antenna could not take her eyes from him. Shining Teeth had not broken his skin and Eid lay as if sleeping. Antenna came closer and sniffed at him. She nuzzled her nose into the fluff of his stripes and the rust of his shoulders. She ran her face through his luxurious tail and breathed in his armpit. Then she lay down with him, nestled into him and sighed.

The other numbats stood away from the couple, the mother numbat keeping baby Zip Too warm and quiet. The baby was far too young to understand what had happened to her father. Antenna embraced Eid and whispered to him. No one could hear the soft thoughts she shared with his body. They turned away and left her to her privacy and her farewells.

            Spark flew into the enclosure and, before anyone could stop him, went straight to Antenna. He hardly noticed Eid. He had to report that Shining Teeth had continued her rampage. She had released all the magnums in the zoo. Gorillas stormed through the public, causing panic and broken bones. The elephants had broken out of the zoo entirely and were responsible for a number of bad car crashes and trampling incidents. The big cats were also prowling around the local suburbs causing mayhem and killing children.

            Antenna slowly rose to her feet. She breathed in the smell of Eid for the last time. She looked at Spark sadly—It won’t take them long to recapture them.

            Maybe not, said Spark—The venomous snakes might be more of a problem. I understand Shining Teeth is encouraging all animals; rats, birds and dogs, everyone, to attack humans in whatever way they can and they are. The word is spreading fast. Humans have begun to retaliate.

            Oh, said Antenna—Then we truly are at war.

            —Yes, said Spark—War.

            Hod?

            We don’t know. He could still be with the croc but there is no word of him.

            —Could she have killed him?

            —Yes.

—But we don’t know.

—No.

            Antenna looked at the beetle with wide eyes before she turned round to see the numbats staring at her. She looked down at Eid who could not be helped further. Then she looked back to her living faux family, who trusted her and had looked after her when all she had wanted was to give up. Mother numbat too looked around at their group and then back to Antenna. She said—What should we do?

I don’t know, said Antenna—I can’t advise you. It might be safer to stay here, in the enclosure. You could collapse the tunnel and bar the way but Shining Teeth can go where she wants in the end. I don’t think she would cause you harm but I don’t know. It might be safer to run away but you might cross the path of some other rogue magnum caught in bloodlust. Her eyes filled with tears and she embraced the mother numbat for some time—Thank you for all you’ve done for me.

Mother numbat nodded, her own eyes wet—You won’t stay with us?

I think you will be safer without me. I’m sorry. Then Antenna picked up her only baby in her mouth and left the numbat enclosure for the last time. Spark flew beside her—Antenna? asked Spark—Shall I come with you?

Antenna put down her baby again and reassured her before she spoke to Spark once more—No, Spark. You will fly away from here. You will stay safe and find a mate and have many larvae. You will be happy, Spark.

—But ... Listen. I can fly ahead and scout for you. I can let you know where is safe to travel. I can help you. Let me.

Antenna looked at him for a while, torn between wanting to keep him away and safe and wanting to continue with some form of Ektek, her family. It was too much to ask, yet, looking into the beetle’s eyes, she knew what she had to do.

—I’ll meet you outside the hangar, Sparkie. Got something to do first. She bent down to pick up Zip Too again and continued on her way.

—All clear above and astern, Antenna. Spark flew ahead of her out of numbat enclosure and into the air.

Leaving Eid lying with his family and carrying her baby in her mouth, she went through into the tunnel and looked both ways, her eyes scratching through the gloom. Was that movement ahead? She stood, staring, her heart beating and, when she was certain there was nothing in front of her, she tiptoed forward. So began the longest journey she had ever made down that familiar path to the hangar and the control centre; a path she had taken at least twice a day every day of her life. This time she held her only child and she feared for her future. Quietly she crept to the next corner, carefully she observed and listened and smelt the air before moving on; and finally, she made it to the hangar. There she too saw the trail of blood and she followed it to the machine cage. It was clear what had happened. Shining Teeth had been to see Gleam. The pleasure had been all hers.

Antenna put her baby down on a piece of sacking and soothed her. Then she turned back to the red splatter that was Gleam’s remains. She moved forward and found him, with dulled eye and twisted legs, slowly bleeding out.

Antenna knelt beside him and placed her head on his fading heart—Please don’t go, Gleam. Stay, here with me.

Now little more than breathing, and little enough of that, his whisper was so faint, she almost had to stop breathing herself to hear him—You must survive.

—And you, she retorted—Don’t give up. You told me that. You told me I had to keep going. You told me I had to keep fighting. It’s not just for your own life. It’s for all the different creatures. All the animals you’ve helped ... You told me that …

—For the children, whispered Gleam. His breathing was arduous, his fight no longer on this earth—Leave me. I have already gone.

Antenna turned her head into his neck regardless of the blood, sticky and puddling everywhere around him. His heart stopped pumping and his lungs stopped circulating air. He was no longer in pain.

Antenna, lying in the bloody arms of a dead tiger, closed her eyes and then her mind turned to dread. All was downturn and fear. Where would she go? What could she do? She would meet Spark at the hangar and they would find somewhere. They would make a start and they would not give up. She thought of Eid and then she thought of Gleam and as she said her farewells to them both she heard her little baby squeal.

She looked up to see Hod standing in the doorway.

She did not think. She jumped up and ran to protect her child. She crouched down and nestled around the baby. She looked up at the yellow-footed rock wallaby.

Hod almost laughed but it was all too serious for that—I wouldn’t hurt her.

—How do I know?

—You know me.

—Not any more.

Hod looked over at Gleam—Is he … ?

—Gone.

Hod nodded. He looked around the cage, seeing the blood and seemed overcome by the extent of Shining Teeth’s carnage—Antenna, you must come away.

—With you?

—With me. I will guide you and we will go together, up into the hills and far away. She will never find us.

—Why, Hod? Why are you leaving her?

—She is filled with hate.

—She has done it, Hod. She has destroyed Ektek.

—She has not destroyed us. We won’t let her.

Hod bent down and picked up Zip Too. He placed her carefully into his messenger bag. Already there was a tiny joey inside and the babies cuddled together for warmth and for comfort.

Antenna saw the baby rock wallaby and looked at him then back at the two babies nestled together.

Yes, he said—He’s all that’s left.

—Shining Teeth?

—Encouraged the lions to visit my family. He went close to Antenna and touched her forehead with his own. They mingled breath and rested there, their foreheads pressing together for a moment—Come on, said Antenna—Spark’s waiting.

Numbat and wallaby turned and left the control centre.

The glow-worms flickered at the top of the cave and then, slowly, one by one, the blue glimmering lights went out.