Ektek
001
Last Chance to Eat
Victoria Osborne
vickoz84@yahoo.com.au
April 2012
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/
'Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone?'
Joni
Mitchell
Prologue
It was high noon. A lone crocodile lay
basking on the riverside mud. Heat smashed onto her rocky skin. Her eyes burned
with danger even as she rested. She opened her claw-toothed mouth in slow
motion, for air-conditioning.
An elegant brolga drifted in to land beside her on the
riverbank. He looked like an ornate grey umbrella as he folded and came to
stand.
Shining Teeth had just eaten a rotten fish and had no desire
to move. The tall bird had no idea how lucky he was.
—Ah, stuff it.
Quick as a snakeÕs tongue flick, Shining Teeth lunged at the bird, catching him
easily mid thigh. The suddenly not-so-lucky brolga stretched his huge wings
wide, flapping, scooping air for power, thrashing, as Shining Teeth grappled,
chomped and sank her teeth higher up into the feathered torso. The brolga
arched his neck backwards, opening and shutting his beak. Perhaps he was
gasping for air. Perhaps he was trying to scream.
Shining Teeth plunged into the water, rolling the brolga
down into the murky depths. There, tucked under a crevasse in the riverÕs edge,
she kept a slimy larder. As she swam back to the surface, the crocodile
thought—How marvellous not having
to worry about tomorrowÕs dinner.
Shining Teeth settled contentedly into the baking sunshine
again and half closed her eyes. The river resumed the quiet life once more
until a swirl of clay-coloured water heralded the arrival of another crocodile.
Grater waded out of the water and ploughed over the top of Shining Teeth who
could not have cared less about wet feet stamping on her head. The backs of the
two crocs turned pale under the hot sun as Grater fought for air after her
sprint and then, when she could speak, announced—Hardback is trapped.
Shining Teeth stared at Grater, calculating the implications
of their mateÕs capture. She turned and headed into the water. Grater sucked in
lungfuls of air and joined her in the brown soup.
Word travelled quickly and HardbackÕs harem gathered to
witness his entrapment. HeÕd followed the scent of live-goat bait into an unguarded
ambush and now there was no way out, certainly not for the goat and, clearly,
not for the crocodile.
Hardback lunged at the net, scrabbling and falling. He
arched his back, flashing his pale underbelly. His breathing came in rasping
barks. His feet flailed and his tail walloped the sides of the soft cage.
When they arrived, Shining Teeth and Grater climbed the
riverbank and approached the trap. The other three crocodiles surged helplessly
in the surrounding water. Shining Teeth tried to bite through the net but found
the cord impossible to grip. She could only avoid getting tangled by backing
away.
Hardback was delirious. Shining Teeth looked at him through
the criss-cross netting. Then they heard the approaching whine of a two-stroke
outboard motor—WeÕll find you.
The humans were coming to check their trap. The harem slid
into the river without as much as a droplet splash. They remained there,
invisible, watching from just under the surface of the water, their legs
dangling in the current.
Hardback tried to escape from the only predators known to
crocs. The sound of the motor infuriated him. He strained against the net. The
humans appeared practised and impersonal. They swiftly tied his mouth and
overcame his struggles. They knew he would die if he became stressed and they
wanted him alive.
Under the muddy surface of the water, five pairs of eyes
watched as Hardback was dumped into the bottom of the boat. The two-stroke
coughed into life and the humans whined back down the river.
The harem: Shining Teeth, Grater, Asunder, Jata and Damura,
needed no discussion and moved off after their male. They followed the boat to
where the river met the railway tracks.
At the wharf, Hardback was unloaded from the tinnie and
swiftly packed into a crate. The crate was then lifted by crane onto the train
carriage. The humans moved purposefully, tall and powerful. Finally, satisfied
that their charge was secure, the men disappeared from view.
The harem stayed in the river; watching, waiting É
With any luck the train would remain long enough for them to
work out a plan. How could they rescue Hardback? What could they do?
Losing patience, the crocodiles swirled around each other,
jostling to keep sight of their husband. They snorted and blew water. They
clapped their jaws together in frustration—We must get him back!
—Without him we
are unprotected!
—Get him!
Asunder took it upon herself to climb out of the water and
up onto the riverbank. She headed straight for the train.
With a mighty sideways lunge, Shining Teeth corralled her
back into the swill—Are you insane?
—We must do
something! Asunder sank back into the river—We need Ektek!
—What can
Ektek do here that we canÕt? growled Shining Teeth.
Asunder looked to Jata, seeking an ally—What can we do?
—We need
help, Jata agreed. She asked Shining
Teeth—Why shouldnÕt we get help?
Damura swirled round in front of Shining Teeth—Ektek has skills.
—TheyÕve
got technology, Asunder added—They can fly.
—Fly.
Nonsense, spat Shining Teeth— FlyingÕs for the birds.
Damura stared hard at Shining Teeth—What can we do?
—Wait! said Shining Teeth and she slapped her tail on the surface
of the water with vehemence—We
wait. ThatÕs what we can do. An opportunity will present itself if we are
patient and observant. We donÕt need other creatures interfering in our
business. We help ourselves! We are crocodiles!
The crocodile harem despaired as they waited in the river.
They watched for a sign that Hardback might escape. They wished the humans
might suddenly change their minds and let their giant male go free but neither
thing happened. Instead, suddenly, the diesel engine roared into life with a
blast of acrid black smoke. All five floating crocs swung towards the noise.
Slowly the train began to move along the glinting metal ribbons implanted into
the land. It seemed to take forever to get up to speed but then, in no time at
all, the roaring monster was gone. The crocodiles watched from the water until
there was no more movement at the train station. They clambered up through the
sludge to the dry. It was hopeless. Unable to follow over land at any speed,
the harem had no way of knowing where Hardback would be taken. The crocodiles
walked awkwardly in different directions, changing their minds, changing
bearings, looking for some clue, hoping for some inspiration, but nothing came
to help them.
Grater continued in a straight line up the road. As she
crossed the train station to follow in her mateÕs tracks the ground began to
shake. There was a distant growling and then roaring as a new train crashed
over the lines, slowing as it neared the station. Grater disappeared under the
flying wheels of the carriages strobing past.
Shining Teeth ran beside the train. She shook her great
lizard head and bellowed to all living things—Ektek! She cried out with all her might over the booming
train—Ektek! Ektek!
A beetle, only incidentally within hearing, needed no
further encouragement. He rose groggily into the dusk, as beetles do, and
buzzed crazily out of sight.
The train ground to a halt at the station.
Shining Teeth clambered up to Grater, lying physically
unharmed between the train tracks—Are
you alive?
Grater shook her head. She could not hear a thing. Her skull
was still thundering. The two crocs shared such a look through the wheels of
the train É
The beetle flew, zig-zag-zig, into the darkening sky and
came to rest by another beetle. The two coleopterons, strangers to each other,
danced and touched briefly, transferring directional information. Then the
second beetle bowed and muttered—Two,
and took off in the same direction, south by south-east.
The second train had left the station by now and Grater
crawled, still shaking, away from the tracks. The crocodile harem slid slowly
back into the river to wait for Ektek to arrive.
Some distance away, yet another beetle edged up the stalk of
a drying plant. Its serrated legs clung impossibly to the stem while its skinny
feet could find no purchase and skated over the surface of a leaf.
Flying high above in the evening, that second beetle came
into view. It approached, just a speck arriving from out of the blood-coloured
sky. It came in to land beside the stalk climber. These two beetles touched
briefly, danced up and down the stalk before the third beetle in the relay
squeaked—Three. Then it, too,
took off, flying as far as it could before seeking the next in the number team,
and became no more than an imagined dot in the fiery troposphere.
Chapter One
To a flying Christmas beetle, Bedlam Zoo looked like a
prison, a formidable collection of buildings and enclosures. The perimeter wall
was built of large rough-hewn stones and lanced with heavy wrought-iron spikes.
The zoo's exterior impression was of strength, permanence and fortitude.
The zig-zagging beetle was Spark.
As he got closer, Spark thought Bedlam Zoo looked less like a gaol and more
like a fortress. He puzzled about it as he flew closer and closer to his
assignment; was the wall keeping inmates in or intruders out?
Bedlam Zoo was in a city. Three sides of the zoo faced
different busy urban roads, one with a train line. There was even a zoo railway
station, to simplify travel for human visitors who wished to enjoy a fun family
day out staring at imprisoned creatures. At the apex of the triangle was a
small area of steep bushland that dipped down towards a river. It was fenced
with a heap of rusty cars and piled up old whitegoods (now more rusty than
white). This area remained untouched by the zooÕs maintenance staff because
they never received any instructions about it. For an Ektek spider, with their
ears and eyes trained to the world-wide-cobweb, it was easy to make any
computer communiquŽ disappear. Ektek made much of the saying, ÔOut of sight,
out of mind.Õ
Spark continued his uneven flight towards the zoo. Sounds of
exotic animals from various countries grew closer as the beetle approached. The
stench of trapped beasts was also increasing. Spark tried to work out if he was
feeling excited or terrified. He couldnÕt decide which as he went over the wire
and flew into the zoo. He had made it into Bedlam.
Aging statues of megafauna decorated the well-kept public
pathways. As Spark flittered past a real, and really bored, elephant, she used
him for target practice. The elephant, whose name was Anna, flung a fountain of
dust from her trunk directly into his erratic path. She laughed in that bizarre
way of slightly mad elephants. Soon she turned to scratch her backside on a
large old tree trunk cemented into her cage. Then she resumed her regime of
swaying back and forth and forth and back and back again over her allotted
four-metre walkway; her own personal invisible constraint system.
Spark coughed, spluttered uncontrollably and zagged when he
should have zigged before coming in to land, only narrowly missing some sharp
barbed wire on a railing. He scuttled down a neglected pathway hung with a sign
that said ÔStaff OnlyÕ. The sign was also clearly marked by a line of beetle
footprints for those who knew how to see. Past dense shrubbery, he went through
a tunnel into the bush, and then rounded a corner. He didnÕt notice the airship
tethered high above him as he entered the foyer of an enormous cave. Who
bothers to look up when everything right in front of them is astounding?
SparkÕs beetle mandibles hung open in amazement as he stared
around him at this fabled place. All his life he had heard legends about Ektek.
He had finally made it. Wow. He, Spark, Christmas beetle, had arrived in the
huge garage area of Ektek. Pulling himself together, Spark nervously approached
a large old darkling beetle that appeared to be guarding the entrance to the
hangar—Is this Ektek?
The darkling nodded. He was a particularly elongated beetle
with ridged sheaths over his wings. Not only were they ridged but his elytra
also very shiny. His antennae were wider at the tip than they were by his head
and they swayed when he added, without any curiosity or pleasantries—State your business.
Spark replied—Urgent. Number five
hundred and seventeen. He thought heÕd
better say the urgent bit again but, remembering his
motherÕs words when he was just a grub, kept his mouth shut. HeÕd do what he
was told. At least, heÕd try to.
—Follow.
Remember your number. ThatÕs your mission, now. You are that number. The
darkling beetle led Spark further inside the cool of the cavern—And keep up, for ZedÕs sake.
The two beetles moved past the light reflectors into the
repair section of the workshop. Spark stared around him in wonder—How does it stay light in here?
—Solar tubes,
the darkling beetle kept marching as he explained—The sunlight reflects down the tubes; they contain mirrors. TheyÕre
adjusted to get maximum light into the cavern. Obviously. Down here, how else
would you expect to get light?
Spark was overcome as he gazed around the cave—The place is huge. HowÉ?
The darkling beetle, secretly pleased to stop and catch his
breath, agreed—Ants and termites
originally. Dug it out. Series of caves linked to each other. Under and round the zoo, kilometres of caverns. Come on,
through here É
Spark couldnÕt help himself. He found himself stopping again
to examine a bank of various shaped containers, grouped under a wide funnel,
leading to some sort of ducting—WhatÕs
all this, then?
The darkling beetle sighed again but provided the
information, proud enough of Ektek to want to boast—Batteries. Charging. Ektek has solar panels on the zooÕs buildings.
Maintenance staff think theyÕre part of the zooÕs grid. They are, sort of. Once
recharged, those batteriesÕll be ready for our vehicles. Build up of hydrogen
round the batteries gets collected for the airship.
A collection of sturdy bottles and some tubular apparatus
lined the walls. Spark sniffed. He was sure he could smell the distinct odour
of overcooked É —Chips?
—Chips. ThatÕs
right. Chips. ThatÕs the refuelling, if you must know. Do you have to stick
your nose into everything? This 'inÕt the time! The darkling beetle stopped
and barked at the young tourist, possibly reminding himself that he, too, had a
job to do—Get a move on!
—Sorry,
darkling, said Spark as he hurried
on—But whatÕs with the chips?
—DonÕt call me
darkling! growled the beetle—NameÕs Torque.
—Torque?
—Yes. Torque.
ItÕs biodiesel.
—Bio-what?
—Biodiesel.
Fuel. Recycled chip oil. Powers that thing. ThatÕs the tank. Torque pointed towards a shiny armoured vehicle about the
size of a small human car. It was shaped like a stag beetle and carried all
sorts of equipment; ladders, cranes and hoses—The zooÕs kiosk puts out the used oil for the recycling firm twice a
week. We take it once a week. No one asks any questions, we donÕt make a fuss. Simple
process involving caustic soda, bit dangerous but weÕre careful. Cheap as
chips.
—Brilliant
place to live, said Spark—A zoo.
Torque agreed—Got
that right, young larva. Find us a lot of very useful rubbish. Now then, march.
DonÕt want to lose you and weÕve got important business to attend to, donÕt we?
Or you wouldnÕt be here, remember?
Torque was head of Ektek security. He believed he was
indispensable in the caverns of Ektek and he may well have been right. He
certainly did know everything and everyone and what he didnÕt know was simply
not worth knowing.
As Spark followed the old beetle, he couldnÕt help himself.
He gazed about him astonished, not only by the collection of vehicles, but also
by the industry with which the mechanics attended them. The reflected sunlight
beamed into a group of engineer beetles crawling diligently over the tankÕs
engine. Spark could hear a metallic knocking and a frenetic hissing and then
there was a clang as something heavy dropped onto the hard dirt ground. Spark
could almost taste the endeavour and purpose in the air as he absorbed the
sounds and smells and lights reflecting from polished metal and burnished
elytra of beetles hurrying here and dashing there and standing quietly in a
corner talking to an attractive É
Oh, there was simply too much to see!
Among the craft parked in the cave, a graceful wingship was
just visible in another dock area of the workshop. This craft looked almost
like a swan cradling its young under its wide and gently downward curving
wings. It was engineered to fit two creatures comfortably in the front, about
five metres wide and three metres long. Spark stared at the much smaller plane
parked on top of the wingship.
—Great little craft, that, said Torque, when he saw what had lately
captured SparkÕs attention—The
mini-plane. Manoeuvrable, versatile, she can keep in easy reach of the airship,
or in this case, the wingship. Lock in the communication channel; they become
one flexible craft.
—ThereÕs
so many of them!
—The
vehicles? Yup, and whatÕs more, the fleet is theoretically
ready at all times.
—What if one of
them has just been somewhere?
—DonÕt
matter; twenty-four hour roster of mechanics to check and double-check each
mechanism, each fuel system, communications, everything.
—Why
doesnÕt everyone just escape?
—Escape what?
—Well,
here. Spark looked around—The zoo?
—Too much
to do, ÔinÕt there. Who else is going to look after all them poor animals,
then?
—Er,
Torque? Spark whispered, overcome and
overwhelmed by this great cathedral to ecology and technology—Got any apprenticeships going?
Torque straightened his hairy exoskeleton—LetÕs be getting on with the job in hand and
see how we go after that, shall we? No use getting ahead of ourselves,
is there, young collie?
Spark snapped to attention. He not only remembered his mumÕs
words (keep your mouth shut and do what youÕre told) but also the grim message
he carried. He meekly followed Torque through a tunnel in the stone and dirt to
a dimly lit hole in the wall. Torque turned to him—Wait here, and disappeared inside.
Spark stared at a tiny shell embedded in the wall and
wondered who, or what, he was about to meet. What sort of creatures would these
Ektek animals be? What would they ask of him? How would he measure up? There
was light at the end of the tunnel and, oh, it was the way out. It started to
look attractive. He even took a step towards it; the way home, but he stopped
himself. Of course he would go on into the inner chambers of Ektek. Spark was
way too intrigued by this adventure to back out now.
Then Torque was at his side again—Right. TheyÕll see you.
Spark, filled with trepidation, followed the darkling beetle
towards the door and entered a cave filled with blue stars, electronic screen
light and lots of strange blinking equipment. The space seemed smaller than it
was because it was so crowded with its tangle of machinery. This was the Ektek
communications centre. Spark saw there were three creatures in the space and
none of them looked particularly fierce or strange. He did, however, feel
painfully self conscious as he realised they were waiting for him, their work
apparently interrupted.
The biggest one stood with his taloned feet gripped into the
dirt making him look, for all the world, like a
dinosaur. He was a cassowary with a thick black coat of feathers covering his
body, a shapely blue neck hung with red wattles like pirate jewellery, a bony
cap on his head and searingly intelligent eyes.
A yellow-footed rock wallaby was also present. His fluffy
ears appeared too big for his head and they twitched and flicked, alert. He was
covered in luxurious white and brown fur and he stood, leaning back slightly on
his glamorous yellow-striped fur tail, with his long legs planted onto the
floor and his little arms waiting, en garde.
The last animal was the smallest. She was sitting up, with
straight back, balanced on her hindquarters. She was in front of a phalanx of
screens and a panel of switches, buttons and track balls. She had short, stiff,
red-brown hair. She looked as if she was wearing a distinct punk mask that reflected
in the black monitor screen directly opposite her. The dark stripe, underlined
and accentuated by a white stripe, covered her eyes like Zorro camouflage.
Under it, her black determined eyes glinted. She was interested. Interesting,
too. Her long pointed nose twitched as she watched the two beetles enter the
control centre. She was a numbat. She flicked out a long worm-like tongue and
slurped at a small dish on the control panel, apparently containing the remains
of her breakfast. Spark was impressed and just a tiny bit disgusted; that was
one heck of a long tongue!
All three animals waited expectantly as the two beetles
approached. Torque went directly to the numbat and growled—HereÕs the new number. HeÕs called Spark.
To the nervous Spark he said—Come
on, they wonÕt bite you. As all three creatures chuckled politely, Spark
could only hope Torque was telling the truth and followed obediently. They came
close to the scaly legs of the cassowary and Torque turned to Spark—This
cassowary is Helmut. HeÕs the pilot of the airship. YouÕll have seen it on the
way in.
Spark, who of course hadnÕt looked up to see anything at all
of the airship because heÕd been so engrossed in everything he could see down
at his eye level when heÕd arrived, bowed to the giant bird and said nothing of
his ignorance.
Torque moved on to the white-and-brown wallaby and
said—This is Hod, one of our
engineers, and Spark bowed again, this time to the yellow-footed rock
wallaby.
Finally, Torque moved to the numbat seated in front of the
computers and said—This is Antenna.
She looks after our communications systems. SheÕll take care of you. Then
Torque backed away respectfully, waiting until he was next called upon.
Antenna turned to Spark—Looks like youÕve come a long way. Spark, is it? Torque nodded from
the corner, just in case Spark was paralysed with fear; which he was. Antenna
acknowledged Torque as well before continuing gently—What is your number, Spark? She stepped from her rock seat and
stood on four feet, looking down at him and bending closer to hear the smaller
creature speak.
Young Spark watched Antenna closely as he said—Five hundred and seventeen. Crocodiles up north. And then, charmingly, the two
creatures began to dance together. This particular dance had been repeated five
hundred and seventeen times between the beetles on their journey towards the
zoo. This was anything but an ordinary funky get-to-know-you dance. This was an
educational dance. Through Spark and AntennaÕs movements details were
communicated through gestures, scents and sounds. It was the dance of the
honeybee, only in a broad accent. Over the years of increasing threats animals
had learned several languages to understand each other and for space and
direction there was simply nothing better than the bee ballet.
Once Antenna had a clear idea of Shining TeethÕs predicament
she said—Considerable distance.
Okay. She turned to the cassowary—WeÕll
need to think carefully about this, Helmut. To beetle Spark she
asked—Salties, I presume?
Spark nodded cautiously—Think so.
Antenna turned to Hod and Helmut—OneÕs been trapped. The male. His family want him freed. Antenna
continued her mental computations—Could
get ugly. Helmut? What do you think?
—WeÕre
about to commence an action. The
cassowary considered for a moment and then spoke—We simply canÕt alter our plans. The restaurant must take precedence.
ItÕs taken months to set this up.
—Of
course, said Antenna—ThereÕs far too much at stake.
—If we had
unlimited resources, Helmut, the
cassowary, continued, thinking aloud—The
obvious choice would be the airship together with the wingship.
—Totally.
With the sort of territory crocs inhabit weÕd need to give ourselves options, said Antenna—But
itÕs completely impossible, given today.
—Could the
crocs wait? asked
the wallaby.
—Not sure.
Probably no. Given they are crocodiles.
—I
wouldnÕt want to stereotype any species here but crocodiles
actually can be particularly patient,
said Helmut—For
a time. Then, of course, they act and quickly. Taking into account they have
already delayed any retaliation so far and we canÕt respond immediately, if we
can do something to alleviate their troubles, I think we should.
Antenna thought for a moment before she spoke—My father always said, decisions made in
haste lead to poor outcomes.
—So true, said Helmut—And
we do need to get to that restaurant. So weÕve got to decide and then get on
with it.
—Because
of the proximity to the river, what do you think? Is the boat possible? said Antenna, as she weighed the
options.
—Intek is in
action currently, isnÕt it? asked Helmut.
—WhatÕs Inket? said Spark in an aside to Torque. He was beginning to relax
and enjoy himself, just a little bit.
—Intek. Tek!
Technology. ItÕs the watery side of Ektek. Torque may have rolled his eyes
but in reality he loved having to explain the finer details of Ektek to a
lesser, more ignorant beetle—WeÕve
got Uptek in the air, Ontek on the ground and Intek in the water. Learning
about problems for endangered animals. In this caseÉ
—Illegal fishing, said Antenna,
nodding. She turned to
the wallaby—What do you think, Hod?
—The
wingship and the mini-plane? asked the yellow-footed rock wallaby—Are they available?
—Good
thinking, Hod. The cassowary
gleamed his bright thoughtful eyes between the wallaby and the numbat—I donÕt think Bash or Crawf are engaged at
the moment.
—ThatÕs
so, said Antenna—Plane and wingship it is. Helmut? Can you get Bash and Crawf organised
as soon as possible? Take Spark with you so he can show them.
—Absolutely,
said Helmut—Hod? IÕll meet you at the airship. Spark?
—Sir?
—LetÕs go.
Helmut indicated the young beetle
should accompany him. Torque nodded permission for Spark to leave with Helmut,
and the cassowary had to slow as the beetle gathered wing-speed and flew across
the control centre. Before theyÕd even left the room, Hod resumed his previous
discussion as though the beetle had never even been there—We planned to be in place well before
opening time and IÕve still got no way of speaking to you.
—We
havenÕt time to fix it, Antenna
agreed—WeÕll be receiving your
pictures and hopefully you can get in and out of the kitchen without needing
any kind of instructions.
—From me
or to me?
—Funny.
Will you cope?
Hod became defensive—DonÕt
talk that much.
—ThatÕs
not what your girlfriend says.
—Which
one?
—Oh, Hod!
YouÕre so irresponsible!
—They love
me and so do you.
—Can we
please get back to the real world?
Antenna turned her attention back to the computer monitor in front of her and
began to flick switches with her numbat paws. She focussed on the
monitors—Lucky that little beetleÉ
What was his name again, Torque?
—Spark, replied the darkling beetle from the corner where he waited
for further orders.
—Right. Spark,
said Antenna—Lucky he turned up
just after the zoo had closed. Would have been difficult if weÕd had to take
animals off duty. Hey, speaking about closing time, where are Min and
Wilkinson? They must have been shut down by now? WhatÕs keeping them? Torque?
Could you get them to hurry along, please?
—Of
course, Antenna. Torque instantly
disappeared into the tunnel as Antenna turned back to her work. She seemed to
move effortlessly around the maze of switches but then, sheÕd been in training
for years.
The Ektek control panel was a patchwork of metal, bone,
plant and plastic. Wire, pipe, cord and shell worked around and through six
different-sized video monitors. The crowded console included counters,
switches, faders, buttons and keyboards designed to be used by different
animals of different sizes with differently shaped hands and feet. It existed
as part of Bedlam ZooÕs technical network. Only the human staff knew nothing
about it.
Hod fiddled with the edge of the control desk and started
twiddling a button. He jumped when Antenna slapped him on the wrist of his
little fluffy arm—Get off!
He jumped backwards and then sniggered at her—YouÕre worse than your dad!
—Well,
donÕt go sticking your great hairy paws in where you donÕt want to go! Unless,
youÕve changed your mind and youÕd like a lesson?
—If you
ever catch me wanting to learn all that geeky techo stuffÉ YouÕll know IÕm on
my last legs.
—You could
easily do it.
—You
easily do it. IÕd rather chop off my own tail.
—YouÕd
never lose your tail, Hoddy. YouÕre so vain, Antenna
smiled at him and turned her attention back to the screen—WeÕve got too much to do.
There was indeed much to do. After the recent death of her
father, Antenna took the weight of the Ektek control desk very seriously.
Assisted by Hod, Min and Wilkinson, Antenna worked as the spider in the web,
paws on the interwoven threads, determining any vibrations out at the Ektek
edges. With their help she had been able to pick up the controller skills
devised and perfected by her elders. Now, she knew where each Ektek operative
was, what their planned action might be and how best to get that information
out to the waiting world.
—Antenna? said Hod—IÕd
better head.
—Hang on,
havenÕt checked everything. Look,
Antenna turned to the monitors—IÕve
got the homepage open here, right? There was the bright Ektek logo over the
question: ÔWho will save the animals?Õ
—Great
work, Antenna, but IÕve got toÉ
—Then,
thereÕs the vid insert in the main pageÉÕ
Antenna turned to another monitor showing a square of fizzing snow bounded by a
surround of eco-ads.
—Wow. HowÕd you
get so much advertising? said Hod, leaning forward
over AntennaÕs shoulder. She looked up at him, pleased he was so obviously
impressed.
—Got to keep the
site up somehow. So, when we get your footage in, IÕll stream it into that and
finallyÉ She turned to the next computer monitor which displayed a page
opened to an outmail box. A letter entitled ÔMedia ReleaseÕ was addressed to
ÔCommerce News Division ServiceÕ and a considerable list of newspapers and
television stations appeared in the address box—IÕll have the mail page open so we can notify the media as soon as we get
content.
—They have
to see this Last Chance to Eat place,
said Hod—With their own eyes. IÕve
been watching the place and I donÕt believe it.
—Journos
can download any info or photos they want, no credit or by-line necessary. Now
weÕve got income, Ektek can provide images for free.
—I better
go, Hod moved back from the screen—HelmutÕll be waiting ...
—Can we
just go over it? One more time? For
my benefit?
—Uh, if
you really have to ...
—Okay. Grabbing hold of his faint interest, Antenna increased the
speed of her delivery even more—Helmut
transports you and Zip, gets you into the restaurant before they open tonight.
YouÕre on head-cam, ZipÕs with telescopic arm on her vehicle. Zip has sound. We
canÕt communicate É
Hod struck a soap opera pose—DonÕt say that, babe É
—HoddyÉ Antenna needed his attention and couldnÕt help just a small
warning ÔteacherÕ growl creeping in to her voice.
—Yeah, yeah, go
on, IÕm listening. Communicating, see?
Antenna shook out her irritation—Your footage, both you in the kitchen and Zip in the dining room,
transmits back in here, we edit and then stream out into the web.
—What do
the cod have to say? asked
Hod.
—They know
everything weÕve discovered so far about the illegal fishing. We know the
Department admitted to losing at least three of their transmitters over the
past year but they call it Ônatural attritionÕ. They reckon predation or Ôact
of GodÕ got Ôem.
—Predation.
Well. TheyÕre sort of right, eh.
—No,
theyÕre not. The Department doesnÕt like to talk about illegal fishing.
—Funding?
—Lack of.
—They call
it a normal acceptable risk.
—How did
you find out?
—Email.
HereÕs the screen. Got the whole Murray Cod storyÉ Antenna opened another page in the Ektek website. Again a
border of eco-ads framed well-designed images and grabs of information about
the big river fish—It explains how
we watched the codÉ
—But not
ÔwhoÕ.
—Obviously,
and how we followed the fishers with their catch into Last Chance to Eat. Then,
how the Murray cod containing the transmitters were worth a fortune on the
plate. If the human nibbling the cod found the transmitter, then that lucky
human won the door prize.
—Some
treasure hunt, eh! said
Hod.
—WeÕve got the
images from the surveillance operation but itÕs unclear what happens in the
place. Like, why are the animals still alive when they get there?
—Last
Chance to Eat, said Hod, squeezing
overt meaning into the words—Gives
you a clue, donÕt it.
—We have
to find out, said Antenna—Once and for all.
—CanÕt
help the cod but we might be able to help someone else, said Hod.
—Yeah, well.
Hopefully. Last Chance to Eat has to be stopped, thatÕs for sure. Basically the
action is a trespass and exposure. Simple really. She looked up at Hod,
suddenly nervous—You think? Is it
going to work?
—Relax,
Anti-freeze. WouldnÕt change a thing.
—DonÕt
call me Anti-freeze! IÕm not the big cuddly one, now, am I. Look at your fluffy
tail! Then, as Antenna realised she
was keeping him from his duty and Helmut really would be waiting for him, she
straightened up. There was a glint of humour in her eye though as she
practically shouted at him—Hurry
up! Get to work! YouÕre late!
—Whose
fault is that? laughed
Hod as he turned to go.
—Get out of
here! Antenna laughed back—And,
thanks, Hoddy.
Hod gave her a cheeky wave as he left the control centre.
She didnÕt see it. She was already focussed on her screens and keyboards,
absorbed, typing, sorting and planning. This action would go smoothly. As if
her life depended on it.
Chapter Two
A yellow-spotted bombardier beetle crawled over the surface
of the wingship, antennae twitching and swishing over the metal. She had a
narrow head fused into her body. Her legs were the same red colour as her head.
Her elytra were a shiny blue with yellow spots. She was a perfectionist. She
stopped briefly to critically examine a small scratch on the wingshipÕs
exterior. She considered the depth and the length of the dent and her red
antennae trembled as she thought. She decided it was a mere surface issue and
continued her safety sweep.
The other mechanical beetles on duty understood what was
required and had already moved into emergency mode. Each had particular tasks
to prepare the wingship and plane and each were trained and efficient in their
duties.
Helmut and Spark stood to one side, waiting for the
wingshipÕs captain and navigator to appear. Helmut bent down to speak to the
beetle at his feet—YouÕll like Bash. HeÕs not much bigger than you, probably about the same
age. HeÕs a corroboree frog.
—And,
Crawf?
—Ah. Crawf
is a rather different kettle of beast. HeÕs biggerÉ
—Oh.
—No need
for alarm. HeÕs a cockatoo. Big, certainly, but you donÕt want to let him worry
you.
—Okay.
—Look, no,
really, donÕt think anything about Crawf. He can be a bitÉ Well. YouÕll see.
Just, donÕt let him concern you unduly. Helmut
turned to the wingship and shouted up at the mechanic beetle—Excuse me, Manifold?
The bombardier beetle looked down to the cassowary on the
ground—Yup?
—Did you
say youÕd sent someone to find Crawf and Bash?
—Yup.
—Okay.
ShouldnÕt they be here by now?
—Yup.
—Well.
Perhaps IÕll go and look for them myself? Good idea?
—Yup. Manifold turned
back to her work, tightening a bolt near the wing tip.
—Thanks for that
informative chat, Manifold. Hard to get a word in with you
today. Helmut bent down towards Spark—IÕll just see if I can find them. You stay here, right?
Spark nodded. He was stunned. Literally. He felt as if he
were floating. Everything was happening around him and yet he was feeling
detached, surreal. The smells and sounds of the hangar were so thrilling he
felt as though his little beetle eyes had been opened to the possibilities of
life—Yes, Helmut, IÕll stay here, he
echoed thoughtlessly, his synapses overloaded to the point of daftness.
Helmut strode off on his gnarly cassowary legs towards the
dark entrance to the tunnel, leaving Spark craning his head up over the wheels
to see if he could climb up onto the wingship. His courage grew and he
clambered, with great difficulty, onto the surface of the tyre. It felt good to
be seeing the Ektek world from this vantage point.
Suddenly, Spark was almost blasted away over the hard dirt
floor by a series of growls—Hullo?
What do you think you are doing? A palm cockatoo looked like a thunder
cloud with his headdress feathers fully extended as he lowered his head and
marched towards Spark, swaying slightly from side to side, rumbling as he came.
The bird was dark grey and the bare skin patch on his face was vibrant dark
red.
Spark stared in horror at the approaching threat. This must
be Crawf and he was getting closerÉ Just as Spark was about to turn tail and
take flight, Helmut reappeared around the side of the wingship—Ah, Crawf. See youÕve met Spark. HeÕs your
number today.
—Not a
terrorist? YouÕre sure?
—His
nameÕs Spark. HeÕs a Christmas beetle. I donÕt believe they do terrorism.
—No, no we
donÕtÉ said Spark—Absolutely not. No way. Not us.
—CanÕt be
too sure, said Crawf as he straightened up
slowly and gave himself a little shake—Hullo? Spark. DidnÕt know what you were up to on that wheel. Could have
been tampering. CanÕt have anyone tampering with the machine before we take
off, can we?
—This is
Crawf. HeÕs harmless. He might look frightening but heÕs not. DonÕt worry. As Helmut reassured the beetle, a tiny black-and-yellow frog
ambled into SparkÕs view just behind the cassowary. This, presumably, was Bash.
His yellow stripes looked like a maze painted over a shiny black pebble. Helmut
continued his friendly conversation, seemingly unaware of SparkÕs thundering
heart—Found Bash. He was under the
impression he was heading out on the airship. DonÕt know where he got that.
Bash, this is Spark. HeÕll inform you about those crocs. Do you want to get
started? IÕll head out on the airship. See you.
Bash and Crawf both nodded as Helmut left them to it.
CrawfÕs crest was now flatter and much less threatening. Spark noticed his
giant beak was hooked and looked very, very sharp—SÕpose so, said Crawf—Sooner
we get the info, sooner we can go see what a bunch of crocs do for fun out on
the river banks.
The three creatures; frog, cockatoo
and beetle, came close together and bowed. Spark began his circular dance. He
stepped out the shape of infinity again and then again and shook in some
variations. These variations provided the information codes: a shake and a nod
in one direction meant one thing, a shimmy and a shiver towards another
direction meant something else. Soon the frog and cockatoo joined in and
followed the beetleÕs moves. The dance was serious but still gracious. Each
creature was careful to place their feet in exactly the right spot and to shake
their limbs or wings in exactly the right way. These were their directions to
find the croc harem. Any mistake could mean life or death for the pilot and the
navigator.
Manifold continued her check prior to lift off without even
glancing at the dance. She shouted at a couple of bombardier beetles down in
the engine—Oi! Watch for the plugs!
DonÕt want them fouled again.
The dance slowed and stopped and the wingship crew became
focussed on leaving. Bash and Crawf climbed up into the cockpit.
—Good luck, said
Manifold.
—WeÕre going to
need it, said Crawf.
—Oh, yeah,
said Manifold with considerable emphasis. Crawf raised his head-feathers at her
tone but Manifold had gone before he could comment.
Back on the ground, Spark felt himself sway slightly. He
shook his head to try to wake up. The long flight, the coming to life of a
fable, everything about Ektek; it was all a bit much for his tiny coleopteran
brain.
Spark had to lean his shiny carapace up against the wall.
Beetles ran past him, one saying to him—CanÕt stay there, mate. TheyÕre about to roll out the wingship. So Spark
moved to another spot where he could see Bash and Crawf on duty in the cockpit
of the wingship. The small plane was secure on the roof and a team of beetles
swarmed over the wheels and joints of both craft, performing final checks.
Another beetle scurried past, bumping into Spark—Crumbs, mate! Out of the way, would you?
—Sorry.
—Watch
out, collie! snarled another beetle.
—Sorry.
—Get out
of here! yelled
someone else. Spark was bumped and jostled until finally he found a place where
no one shoved him and he could watch the take off procedure in peace; at least,
in physical calm. Inside, he was in turmoil.
Manifold shouted to all the beetles who were leaving the
wingship—Completed your before and
after entering checks?
The beetles chorused—Affirmative. Some of the beetles ran out behind the wingship, some
to the front and stood ready as Manifold continued her checklist. Presumably,
on board, Crawf and Bash were practising some kind of similar procedure that
Spark couldnÕt hear. He was too mesmerised by the beetles. Beetles like him,
but these appeared to be strong, purposeful beetles. These were skilled beetles
with a mission.
When the engines started, Spark almost wet himself. From a stuttering splurt the small engines rose
into a warm hum, then rose again into a sort of humming buzz.
Manifold continued shouting, louder now—Static vent plugs?
—Removed.
—Flying
controls?
—Free.
—Throttles?
—Primed
and set.
—All clear
above and astern?
—Clear.
—Standing
by chocks.
—Chocks
away, the beetles chorused as they
heaved at the heavy chocks and ran, pushing the carved wooden blocks to the
side wall of the hangar, well out of the way and right in SparkÕs direction. He
managed to duck them safely and watched as Manifold cried out—And theyÕre off!
—Chocks
awayÉ muttered Spark
and he dodged and wove and ran to follow the little plane out of the hangar,
sniffing the smell of burnt chips as if it were the most appetising of perfumes.
As he came to the mouth of the hangar, beetles were coming in again and he
tried very hard to avoid bumping in to them but it was difficult when his mouth
was hanging open and heÕd fallen in love with a vehicle that was abuzz with
life.
The wingshipÕs high humming increased in volume as it soared
out into the sky and buzzed round past the airship which floated gracefully
into the distance. Pilot Crawf tipped the wing towards the airship in
acknowledgement of their shared airspace. The watching beetles on the ground
cheered. Then both craft faded into the vibrant blue of the sky.
Spark stood, transfixed, at the great open mouth of the
hangar cave. He started to hum in a high buzzing kind of way. His eyes were
almost rolling in his head. His brain was full of the glory of ignition and
preparation. He slid down the wall at the outside of the hangar, humming
quietly to himself—This is the
life, he thought—ThisÉ. IsÉ
TheÉ Life.
The sky emptied and the trees and shrubbery seemed to
embrace him as he lay humming in the afternoon sun. Gradually his eyes closed
and his legs became limp. Then his hum sputtered and ceased. Spark gave a tiny
beetle grunt and rolled over slightly.
Then, into the silence of the afternoon, came the sound of a
tiny, beetle snore.
Chapter Three
I
—Anyone there?
Over. AntennaÕs voice was insistent. SheÕd been calling for attention for
some time now with no result. She hunched over a slender microphone rising out
of the computer array like some weird flower bud—Talk to me, someone! Anyone? Zip? Are you hearing me? Over.
The light from the control panel flickered over her pointed
face. She was deeply frustrated. Something had gone wrong. SheÕd lost the
communication link with the airship and with Zip. Nothing was functioning
properly and there was still no sign of Min or Wilkinson. She typed urgently,
trying diagnostic tests to assess the problem. There was no explanation for it.
The system had simply collapsed. Deliberately she stood and went around the
control desk to kick the side of the computer. It hurt her but made no
appreciable difference to the system. She returned to her rock seat and leaned
her head onto the keyboard and sighed.
Torque entered the cave and crept close to Antenna. Thinking
she was asleep he whispered—Antenna?
Antenna, put into a bad mood by the technology failure, sat
up and snapped at the beetle—What?
Torque hated to be the bearer of bad news and braced himself
for a reaction even before he spoke. He looked round to see who might be
listening. Even though he established there was no one else there, he
whispered—ItÕs Wilkinson.
—What
about her?
—SheÕs
been cleared.
—What!
—Cleared. The old guard. Gone.
—Oh no, Antenna stared in horror at Torque, the news slowly sinking
in—Thanks, Torque. IÕll go now.
Torque followed Antenna as she left her seat and went out
into the dirt tunnel. The passageway led to every entrance of the various
enclosures of the Ektek animals – mostly from the Australian section but
there were others involved. Ektek was a global operation.
The old guard had consisted of AntennaÕs father and MinÕs
mother, Wilkinson. This unlikely pair, a numbat and a LeadbeaterÕs possum,
together with a team of termites, ants and beetles, had set up the computer
system that was the spine of Ektek. AntennaÕs dad had been cleared only
recently and now that Wilkinson was gone, Min would be the only LeadbeaterÕs
possum left in the zoo.
Her brother, Rawlinson, had been sent out to another
facility for breeding. Split up the families; clear the elders,
that was the way of the zoo. The old guard had accepted that. It suited
them. They knew sooner or later theyÕd be cleared and theyÕd be spared the
indignity of old age. Everyone had to die sooner or later. If you were no
longer bringing in an audience then you were no longer profitable to feed and
then, well, your useful days were over.
Although everyone dreaded being cleared, everyone knew death
was a fact of life. They also knew that there was a measure of protection from
human encroachment in a zoo. Predators, feral competition, starvation and even
disease were removed from the equation when you were housed in a dry,
maintained enclosure with round the clock veterinary service. Both numbat and
possum were wild caught, some of their progeny captive born. It was all they knew
and now more of the old guard had been cleared.
That made Helmut the last surviving Ektek elder.
II
Antenna marched down the tunnel towards the nocturnal house.
The long coarse hairs on her tail bristled, making her look far more hostile
than she actually felt. She muttered to herself as she strode through the
corridors. Her stripes flashed on her back as though she were a tiger in a
bamboo forest. She thought to herself that Min was being unreasonable. Min
simply had to accept the way of the zoo. She had to learn to think about other
animals beside herself. Everyone lost his or her parents. It was natural. Some
creatures never knew their parents at all. Min was just being selfish; how dare
she. Stubborn and selfish. Someone had to tell her.
That someone was going to have to be Antenna. She tightened her lips. All this
bolstering wasnÕt really convincing her. She didnÕt have a clue what she would
say to Min. What could you say to someone who had just lost their
mother?
III
The nocturnal house was cool and dark in daytime and the
lights came on at night so that nocturnal animals would be awake in the pseudo
night when paying customers came to visit. It was still dark as Antenna came
through the camouflaged entrance from the tunnels and she could smell the
drying eucalyptus that decorated the possum enclosure.
Antenna found Min scrunched down into a tiny ball in her
bedding. Antenna called to her softly as she approached.
Min opened one eye and scrunched down further—I could smell death. All day. The vetÕs been
busy.
Antenna nodded—YouÕre
not the only one, then.
—I didnÕt
get a chance to say goodbye. They just came and took her before I even knew.
—You mum knew
she meant the earth to you.
—Did she?
—Yes, she
did. You know that.
—Do I?
—Parents
are supposed to die. The young take over.
—But not
yet, Anti. Min shrank down even
smaller—Not yet.
Antenna huddled in beside her. Min was cold. LeadbeaterÕs
possums came from the mountains. They liked to be cold. They were also known as
fairy possums because they were small and exquisite. They stayed huddled
together in the dark, breathing in the smell of dried eucalyptus, sharing
sadness. Then, suddenly, with an electronic thud, the lights snapped on and the
entire nocturnal habitat was flooded in bright daylight.
—YouÕre right,
said Antenna—LetÕs all give up.
LetÕs forget about Zip and Hod and Helmut. LetÕs forget all about Ektek. LetÕs
forget about those animals trapped in the kitchen. ItÕs all way too hard.
—It is.
—We canÕt
give up, Min. ItÕs too important. ThereÕs too many needing help. YouÕve got to
get up and get going. Antenna shook her
head in frustration. She tightened her lips and whispered to the shocked
creature nestled beside her—ItÕs
what our parents wanted, Min. I need you to help me. Please.
A silence frosted silently between the two mammals before
Min sighed deeply—CanÕt argue,
Anti. Then Min stood abruptly and shook off her bedding.
Antenna followed her out of the nocturnal house and they
went back to work.
IV
ZipÕs voice fizzed through the satellite connection—Ektek? Can you hear me? Over.
—All
right! Antenna was jubilant—Thank you, Min!
—ButÉ? Min sounded puzzled—I didnÕt do anything! She barely looked up from the wiring as her
tiny fingers traced a circuit.
—You must have.
ItÕs working now. Antenna seized the mic—Zip! Am I glad to hear you! WhatÕs happening? Over.
ZipÕs voice was not quite swallowed by interference—IÕve parked the car under the waitersÕ
table. TheyÕve unlocked the doors. Last Chance to Eat is open for business.
Over.
—Okay, Min nodded and turned her attention back to the circuitry.
Antenna spoke into the mic—What do you mean, waitersÕ table? WhatÕs that mean? Over.
—You know,
the table where they uncork drink bottles and put serving trays and
stuff—ZipÕs voice
splintered into the speakers—You
know. Collection and sorting. Over.
—I do not
know. Antenna shook her head and
frowned—WhyÕs she expect me to know
anything about human restaurants?
—Because
you know everything, muttered Min.
Antenna glanced up, not sure if Min had attempted a joke in
her present emotional state, and she let it pass. Of course she didnÕt know
everything. However, she did understand that this waitersÕ table would be a
perfect vantage point for Zip in the dining room. There would be no people
kicking her under the table and she would hopefully be able to operate the
camera unnoticed. She spoke again into the mic—Zip? Can you pan Ôround the restaurant, please? Over.
Immediately, one of the blank video screens flickered into
life. Min and Antenna watched as ZipÕs footage was beamed from the carÕs micro
camera to the Ektek headquarters via the airship and the satellite. All systems
go. Min and Antenna exchanged a glance. Phew. So far.
This was their first look inside the famed Last Chance to Eat.
The place was huge, formal and obviously expensive. The
furniture appeared antique. There were white tablecloths. There were ornate
stands bearing monster flower decorations that speared the air between the
tables. The serious-faced waiting staff wore slick hair and long black aprons
over their crisp white shirts, printed with a cunning design of flying
passenger pigeons. They flitted from table to table straightening the silver
salt and peppershakers fashioned like bulbous sea-cows.
They polished up the moa embossed knives and forks on their aprons, preparing
for their dinner guests.
Antenna and Min could see Zip was strategically placed under
the table against a wall facing the entrance. The kitchen doorway was to her
left. The camera was set into a telescopic arm. The pictures shook as the
camera changed angles.
Last Chance to Eat was a themed restaurant with attitude, a
life and death attitude. In the centre of the restaurant, three skinny
creatures, looking a bit like antelope from a distance, huddled together on the
top of a set made to look like a mountain-top. One
creature turned her head, her eye coruscating in panic. They skittered together
to the top of a plateau. The whole mountain picture was surrounded by a moat
that the gentle terrified beasts would never be able to cross.
Back in the control centre, Min looked at the helpless
beings—Who are they?
Antenna breathed in and said—Chiru.
—Chir-who?
—You know.
Chiru. Antenna watched the screen with
her pointed nose twitching angrily—Humans
make shatoosh out of their hair.
—Sha-what?
—Shatoosh.
Fancy shawls fine enough to pass through a wedding ring. Warm enough to hatch a
pigeonÕs egg. Takes three chiru pelts to make one shawl. Humans love Ôem. Wonder whoÕll win the shawl tonight.
—Oh,
donÕt.
—What else
are they there for?
—Hang on, said Min, leaning forward to see the screen better—WhatÕs that?
—Go back,
Zip, said Antenna into the mic—To the corner. Over.
The Ektek camera was so small the footage tended to be
shaky. Any slight floor movement could disturb it. Zip moved the camera back to
focus on a shadowy corner. When the images settled, Min and Antenna leaned in
to see a human camera crew was setting up their outlandish equipment.
Antenna narrowed her eyes—Now, you tell me, she said to Min—Why would they want footage of three petrified chiru?
There appeared to be a crew of three people, possibly
director, lighting operator and camera operator, clustered together around a
large camera. They were unpacking more equipment out of metallic road cases and
setting up a veritable phalanx of technology. The human crew were remarkably
inconspicuous, given the size of their retro gear. They fitted in, they were
expected, there was a place for them in this
restaurant.
—This is new.
Keep your eye on them, Zip. Over, Antenna said into the mic. What did it
mean? Why would Last Chance to Eat need a recording of an eveningÕs custom?
The patrons began to arrive in twos and threes. As a
collective group of customers they were impeccably groomed. A staff member
greeted the clientele as they arrived. Waiting minions took their coats away to
be hung in the wardrobe by the exit. That wardrobe was beautifully carved with
a prancing PrzewalskiÕs horse rearing up across both ornate doors.
A waiter bearing a bottle of a dark red drink called
CarsonÕs Spring dated 1962 approached the waitersÕ
table. Zip snapped the camera down to escape detection. Back in the control
room, Min and Antenna suddenly had a great view of a waiterÕs leg and the
tablecloth. From underneath. The camera spun round and in the central screen of
the console, Min and Antenna got a full close-up of a furry puppy-like face
with a great big nose staring right at them. Zip was a bare-backed
fruit bat and this weird angle was not at all flattering but Zip didnÕt seem to
care. She made some dreadful faces at them and grinned. She whispered—Go on, dare meÉ She
grimaced even wider as she reached out her wing tip as if to tickle the
waiterÕs knee.
Antenna whispered into the mic—Zip! Stop clowning around! Over. Then Antenna turned to Min by her side—As if sheÕd listen to me.
—SheÕll
listen. SheÕs all right.
—ÔCourse
she is. LetÕs check out Hoddy.
Antenna turned to a different screen and switched channels
until a new picture became clear. This camera was steady and revealed a
stainless steel kitchen from above. Min and Antenna watched as kitchen staff
moved rapidly through the gleaming temple. It was a magnificently equipped and
designed kitchen. Clearly the food prepared here would be of the highest order.
Hod was a somewhat larger animal than the bare-backed
fruit bat and the view was from his taller perspective. Hod was wearing a
miniature camera mounted on his head and he must have been standing on
something outside the window. Rock wallabies could climb anything.
Antenna switched the vision through to the webpage frame
already prepared for it. She typed in commands and ran the program. The image
was now part of a web-cast. Ektek was netcasting live footage just as the old
guard had envisaged years ago when they held those first meetings with the
beetles.
Min moved to the email screen and pushed Ôsend nowÕ. The
screen shut and the Media Release was out.
Antenna turned back to the monitor as HodÕs camera captured
the face of a small monkey. It was a tiny golden-lion tamarin, staring out from
the bars of a roughly formed wooden cage. The tamarin was still alive but
beyond shock, beyond hope. Antenna recognised dull despair when she saw it. She
hit a series of commands and took a screen shot of the once glorious creature.
As Hod continued his tour of the kitchen in the background, Antenna pasted the
tamarinÕs image into a separate page, typing in the caption; ÔChar-grilled bush
meatÕ.
In the kitchen again, HodÕs head-cam found a leopard, or
what was left of it. The leopardÕs mournful eyes burned into the screen. It was
barely alive. Its legs were bent back in a strange way. The leopardÕs mind was
lost. The journey to the kitchen had broken it.
Antenna took a screen shot of the leopard staring into the
past and transferred it to the website. She added the caption, ÔVulnerability
– a piquant sauce indeedÕ.
Min was watching the dining room footage streaming in from
Zip. More customers arrived and were chattering excitedly as they read the menu
and watched the chiru clump together on the faux mountain.
Light drum and bass filtered through the Ektek speakers. Min
and Antenna watched as the waiter swung a blackboard towards a glamorous couple
seated directly in front of ZipÕs waitersÕ table. The board was covered in bold
chalk writing in a style favoured by architects. Min nudged Antenna—Can you get her to zoom in?
Antenna switched on the mic again—Zip? Can you zoom in on the menu? Over.
Zip made no verbal reply but the lens refocussed. Right at
the top of the board was chalked a heading; Nemesis
Night Specials.
—Nemesis Night? Min
looked to Antenna—WhatÕs that?
—Got me, said
Antenna—No idea.
The blackboard list continued:
Japanese Crane
Folded into handmade origami paper
& parched
With a cassoulet of wood bison
& maidenhair tree greens
Slivers of roast leopard
Crammed with golden lion tamarin
& celeriac puree
Bombarded with gold leaf flecks
Warm salad of chiru stuffed komodo
With sizzled snake beans
Quince and blue cheese jus
Beleaguered with parmigiana reggiano shrapnel
In the steel-and-white kitchen, HodÕs camera had found a
caged and muzzled komodo dragon. It was an image straight from a reptilian
horror flick. This one was still a youngster, the yellow spots clear on its
brown scaly skin. It was about two metres long with a powerful head and strong
shoulders.
—They certainly
like their komodo fresh, said Min.
—And their chiru
and tamarin. How do they kill them?
—Do you
really want to know? Min was right.
Antenna didnÕt really want to know.
Hod moved in for a close-up. The muzzled komodo shook his
head impatiently. A gleam of other worlds and prehistoric times shone from his
eyes.
Antenna froze a screen shot of the komodo with that glint of
ancient intelligence captured in the flare of the lens. She processed the image
into the webpage, together with the menu description. It made a striking
graphic and Min nodded her approval. At the other keyboard, Min entered an
editing program and highlighted the video frame in a random flash. It made a
dramatic effect.
—Hey,
Antenna looked at her—We make a
good team. TheyÕd be proud.
—WeÕre not
supposed to be the team. MinÕs eyes
filled with tears—Not yet.
—But we
are. ThatÕs our duty.
—Duty? Min jumped up from the panel and paced across the floor, her
long tail flashing out behind her—WhatÕs
that mean?
Antenna turned to watch her surreptitiously, not without
sympathy, but still needing Min to focus on their work rather than what Antenna
believed to be self pity—Min?
—I canÕt
help it, Anti. I keep expecting her. She should be here and sheÕs not and then
I remember again and sheÕs gone, gone forever, never will be again and itÕs so,
so unfair.
Antenna stood up but Min just kept pacing, kept flicking her
tail, marching across the cave, kept talking to herself. Antenna realised this
grief was real, of course, and new and raw but stillÉ They were working. It was
not the time for self-indulgence.
—I didnÕt know
it would hurt like this. I know when your dad died you just kept on going. I
donÕt know how you did.
—Are you
saying IÕm heartless?
Min really did look like a fairy then. Frail and petite with
a faint glow surrounding her fur like a halo. She opened and shut her mouth a
couple of times, not knowing what to reply to her friend. She knew Antenna kept
her emotions in check but obviously she must have feelings. Eventually the little
possum straightened her spine and spoke through her tears—DonÕt look so worried, Antenna. IÕll keep
going. For them.
Antenna wasnÕt concentrating. She had been sucked back into
her own memory bank. She was suddenly younger, with her dad grinning at her. He
was standing backlit in the cavern of AntennaÕs mind and he said to her—Your soft heart, Anti! Trouble with you,
kitten, is you feel too much. You donÕt think enough. You got to think, numbat
baby. Think. ThatÕs the only way forward. Keep thinking with that sharp mind of
yours and I guarantee, youÕll work it out.
Antenna shook her head free of sentiment, free of cloying
emotions and thought. She thought of all the animals that had been cleared.
Then she thought of all the other animals that were being hunted, farmed,
culled and vivisected at that very moment—IÕm doing it for the living, Min.
—Yes, yes, shivered Min—Of
course. So am I.
Antenna nodded and pulled down a new email message screen.
This was for all politicians, State and Federal, informing them of the netcast
and encouraging them to log on and see the Last Chance to Eat story at the
Ektek website. She pressed Ôsend nowÕ.
Min said—The
Department of Flora and Fauna canÕt ignore that.
Antenna sneered—Especially
the ones who arenÕt dining at Last Chance to Eat
tonight.
Back on screen, in the unedited footage, HodÕs camera jerked
back crazily, painting an impressionistic blur of the kitchen. It came back
into focus on the komodoÕs face, now released from the muzzle. The komodo
opened and shut its mouth experimentally. Long strands of saliva coated its
jaws. It looked down the barrel of the camera and opened and shut its mouth.
In the control room, Min leaned forward intently—WhatÕs he saying?
—Uh oh, Antenna couldnÕt believe it.
Min stared at the screen—Sorry?
—CanÕt you
see?
—What?
—HodÕs set
him free.
—How did
he get into the kitchen? I thought he was using a telephoto from outside?
—So did I.
Antenna grabbed
the mic—Hod! Then she
remembered he couldnÕt hear her. Hod had no sound. She sat back from the mic,
remembering their stupid joking about not being able to communicate. This
wasnÕt a joke—Hoddy, she
murmured—Hod. What are you doing?
Shut it in! She jumped to her feet and shouted at the screen—Lock it up again! Before itÕs too late!
They watched in silence as the camera backed away, the
komodo in frame as he pushed on the door of the cage and it opened, ever so
slightly. The komodo froze and looked around the stainless temple where the
rituals of victuals absorbed the staff. No one had noticed and the komodo
pushed again, softly, and the door swung open just a little further. The komodo
hesitated, gathering strength and then he rushed out of his prison, running
pell-mell to the nearest open door; unfortunately it was the fridge.
The kitchen staff swung around in attitudes of terror, their
mouths opening and shutting furiously. They must have been squawking like mad.
Ektek creatures couldnÕt understand the sound of humans in any kind of language
sense – but most creatures could work out what they meant from their tone
– even in this silent movie. People ran to get away from the komodo. It
was a human stampede.
On the screen, the images blurred impossibly while Hod
plunged to safety. When the pictures refocussed the komodo had heaved back out
of the fridge. One enterprising chef grabbed a hatchet and hurled it. It
glinted as it spun in the bright kitchen light at the frustrated beast. It
missed and cracked into the plaster. It juddered for a moment with the impact.
The dragon took off in the opposite direction, this time
straight at a horrified young kitchen hand who waved a
broom wildly in the general vicinity of the reptile. The komodo wasnÕt
impressed by being swept on the head with a broom and took a good bite of human
leg in response. He dragged the spotty youth several metres. The komodo let go
just before he reached the restaurant door. The kitchen-hand scrambled to his
feet, dragging his injured leg and opening and shutting his mouth frantically
as he scurried away from the beast.
In the control room, Min and Antenna were powerless to do
anything as they watched the komodoÕs onslaught continue to the swinging doors
leading to the sedate dining room.
—Zip! Get out of
there! Antenna shouted into the mic—Instantly! NOW! Over.
The diners were completely unaware of the impending komodo.
There must have been very good sound-proofing between
kitchen and dining room. They murmured contentedly as they attended to the rare
morsels displayed before them and drum and bass simpered through the air.
That was until the kitchen doors smashed open, resulting in
a crazy tumult of panic as humans leapt to their feet, then onto the tables,
then the tables tilted, fell, went flying, the disorder ruffled the waiterÕs
hairstyles and they too joined their patrons, running, barking, yowling,
screeching and bayingÉ
Then, suddenly, awfully, snowy static hit the displays.
ZipÕs connection was severed.
At the same time, HodÕs footage disappeared.
The only sound in the Ektek control room was the hissing of
screens.
Chapter Four
Antenna typed fast. She opened the same diagnostic programs
she had run before, checked exactly the same systems as rapidly as she
could—Uptek? Come in please? Over.
There was no reply on any channel. The airwaves were dead. It was just like the
earlier outage only this time she had Min working beside her. Min looked in
disbelief at both fizzing monitors and shook her head. She went to the computer
and removed the carapace again. She took her toolkit from her pouch and sifted
through the wires and silicon chips embedded into the patchwork. Part of the
computer looked like grey matter and part was based on plant cellulose
structures. MinÕs tiny hands could sense any problems through faint electronic
impulses. After diagnosing a slight imbalance she employed an intricately
shaped tool into the computerÕs depths but she knew it was not causing the main
problem—I wish we knew what that
crazy scientist did up there, she muttered as she worked—Half the time weÕre working in the dark. Not
that thatÕs such a bad thing in itself.
—Yeah, said Antenna—ItÕs
all very well dedicating a satellite to endangered animals but if it drops outÉ
—What good
is it?
—Maybe
that mob of extinct animals up there is having a party and broke something.
For the first time since WilkinsonÕs clearing Min and
Antenna looked at each other and smiled, chuckled even. It was an absurd mental
picture. The satellite was part of a famous rumour. When the scientist sent the
satellite up, it was said heÕd filled it with endangered animals to make a kind
of orbiting ark. It was only a rumour but there must certainly have been a
satellite, for how else would EktekÕs communications work?
As for the endangered animals in orbit around the earth, how
would they live? The satellite would have to be enormous. It was just an
amusing story to tell the youngsters.
As suddenly as they had gone, both Hod and ZipÕs vision and
ZipÕs sound filled the Ektek office again. Screaming people and crashing
furniture blended discordantly with drum and bass.
—And weÕre back.
Antenna watched the footage—Once
again, thanks to you, Min.
—It wasnÕt
me, Min frowned as she examined the
screens—It seems to have come back
on line by itself. ThereÕs definitely something out of order. IÕll have to
check out that airship when they get back. I donÕt understand itÉ
Antenna managed not to say it out loud but, as she watched
the chaos unfolding on the screens, she thought to herself: if they get back.
It appeared that ZipÕs camera was now lying on the ground
with only limited view. AntennaÕs black eyes glistened in the band across her
sharp face as she twisted her head to make sense of the pictures—ThereÕs something standing on ZipÕs camera.
Min gasped—Not
the komodo?
Another screen showed a blur, going up and down. Hod must
have been leaping. The light had changed so Min and Antenna assumed he was
moving outside the restaurant. But where was Zip?
Forgetting that Hod had no sound again, Antenna shouted into
the mic—Hod! WhereÕs Zip? Over!
And then, to herself when she realised—What have you done? Impossibly, as
though he had heard her, HodÕs bounding footage on the screen came to a
careering halt then spun and returned to the restaurant. People were spilling
out onto the footpath and moving well away from the entrance. They were crying
and wheezing and falling over. The human camera operator had bundled her bulky
camera under her arm and carefully moved away from the building as though she
were indeed carrying her own precious baby.
Hod leapt through the milling throng, back into the dining
room. The komodo was menacing the waitersÕ station in the far corner. Zip was
trapped. The komodoÕs huge tail thrashed backwards and forwards.
HodÕs camera paused only momentarily. Then he zoomed in to
the komodo. As with all EktekÕs actions, the quality of the photography varied
according to the mental and physical state of the photographer. Here, Hod was
shaking so only some of his vision was in focus. And even then it was
intermittent.
ZipÕs camera was framed on one side by the underside of
komodo foot, and now fluffy brown-and-yellow striped fur filled the rest of the
picture. HodÕs tail was directly in front.
Min and Antenna struggled to make sense of what they were
seeing on the screens. They could hear HodÕs voice through ZipÕs
equipment—Not us, you dumb dragon!
Get the humans! You do know what humans are? The tall ones
with two legs?
Then, from HodÕs point of view, his own yellow paws entered
frame and twitched away the tablecloth to reveal Zip. She was trying in vain to
drive her car around the great lizard. One side of the car had been damaged,
apparently by komodo bite. The komodo didnÕt hesitate now, either. He opened
his saliva-coated mouth and leered towards Zip. Suddenly the camera snapped and
leapt away. Through the blur, the car was just in frame; Hod must have been
carrying it. Together with the fleeing humans, the camera was lurching out of
the doorway and into the street.
Min and Antenna both jumped as the speaker hummed and ZipÕs
voice came through. She sounded angry, understandably, her voice
resounding—WeÕre supposed to be a
team, she screeched—IÕm relying
on you for my life! How do you expect anyone to work with you if they canÕt
trust you?
Antenna let out a sigh of relief—I suspect Hod will probably understand ZipÕs feelings by the time they
get back to the zoo.
—Loud and
clear, agreed Min.
Antenna switched channels and called in to Helmut. This time
there was no problem getting through to the airship—Uptek, come in please? Over.
—Yes,
Antenna. Over.
—TheyÕre
on their way back, in a bit of a hurry. YouÕll need to get moving.
—Affirmative.
Over.
—We need
to solve this communications failure. Any ideas? Over.
—Sorry,
Antenna. Just dropped out. Over.
—See you
when you get back. Over.
—Over and
out.
—Thank
goodness for that. Min returned the computerÕs
carapace and set to work restoring order in the signal centre—Antenna? When did you last check the email?
—Will now.
Antenna went to the inbox. There were
three new messages. Two were from journalists regarding the eveningÕs events in
the restaurant. The third was from an opposition politician wanting to
congratulate Ektek on blowing the whistle on Last Chance to Eat. He was
preparing a speech to denounce the restaurant in the House of Representatives.
He would be asking the Department of Flora and Fauna directly what they
intended to do about it.
Antenna couldnÕt have been more thrilled—Immediate results! CanÕt ask for more than
that, can we? She turned to share her excitement and saw that Min was sombre.
—Can you
please check the LeadbeaterÕs possum page? He might have left a message there.
Min wanted to check on her brother, Rawlinson, and his safe arrival at the new
zoo.
—Rawlinson?
Of course we can do that, said Antenna,
full of optimistic belief in EktekÕs powers as she typed in the homepage address
and pressed return—We can do
anything!
—ItÕs too
early for him to have an email address but he might have managed something.
The first thing they saw when the page downloaded was a
bright red lightening bolt across the screen. The Friends of the LeadbeaterÕs
Possum had put out a newsflash. It stated that Rawlinson had died in transit,
as had the other male. Several other LeadbeaterÕs possums had succumbed to a
virus at two zoos. It was now believed that there were no surviving
LeadbeaterÕs possums in the mountain ash forests. The last known LeadbeaterÕs
possum was incarcerated in Bedlam Zoo.
The last known LeadbeaterÕs possum was Min.
Min sighed like a deflating balloon and folded up into a
tiny little bundle on the floor. Antenna joined her on the ground and huddled
in close. She tried to think of ways to comfort her but what could she say?
Never mind? Try to look on the bright side? At least now youÕre the only
LeadbeaterÕs possum left in the world, youÕre going to be very, very valuable?
Somehow, nothing seemed fitting. Silence would have to suffice.
They lay together on the dirt floor. After a while Antenna
heard a faint drumming. As she lay there, turning cold and hard, something soft landed on her face. She could feel a faint tickling on
her fur. She opened her eyes to see a blanket of ants had arrived, all carrying
young green leaves. The ants had brought little leaves to cover Antenna and Min
as they rested. The leaves smelled of eucalyptus. They smelled disinfecting and
health giving. Eventually the ants left them, warm and cared for on the
outside, even if they felt they were turning to stone from the inside.
Torque watched from the shadows, in a glow of approval as
the ants passed. He was surprised that the ants could make such a generous
gesture of forgiveness after all this time. The ants normally avoided both Min
and Antenna because of a silly youthful incident. They had dared each other to
eat a regiment of ants before they were old enough to understand what they were
doing to the foundations of Ektek. ItÕs difficult for creatures to go against
their instincts but they had had to learn and accept that Ektek creatures donÕt
eat ants (even if you are an anteater). They would have to do with the zooÕs
custard preparation like all the rest. It was part of growing up and it was
part of being endangered. It was part of Ektek.
Spark stood beside the darkling beetle—Will they be okay?
—WeÕve
done all we can, Torque nodded—Now itÕs up to them to recover.
—Will
they?
—Of
course. ThereÕs no choice. TheyÕre Ektek.
Chapter Five
Stars pinpricked through the velvet night sky. The moon was
almost full. It had already traversed across of the sky and the night was
nearly over. A plane flew over a silver ribbon of river that spooled out over
the undulating land. The compact vehicle banked and turned to follow the
shining curve of the waterway.
To the casual observer, the little plane, barely half a
metre long, could have been an escapee from the model flying
club. In fact, this was no toy. It was a sophisticated machine, in shape almost
like a stealth fighter blended with an ultralight. Small fins jutted forward
from the bulbous nose of the craft. An aerofoil curved over the powerful fan
turbine motor at the rear. It zipped through the air at surprising speed, the
ground moving fast beneath.
Bash sat comfortably behind the controls of the
mini-aircraft. He was a confident and skilled pilot, the controls having been
tailored ergonomically to fit the small frogÕs clinging hands and feet.
From high in the air, the light of the moon etched out a
crocodile farm. Neat pens tessellated the property and most enclosures were
filled with sinuous patterns made from the twisting and interweaving of croc
bodies.
Bash faced a complicated panel of lights and instruments in
the cockpit of the small plane. He reached for his radio controls—Crawf! Over.
The radio crackled in reply—Hullo? DonÕt believe it. HavenÕt found him already, have you? CanÕt
have. Impossible. Over.
Bash snickered as he surveyed the crowd below him—You know crocs. They all look the same to
me. Hang on. Wait a minuteÉ IÕll get back to you. Over and
out.
Through the night gloom, Bash had seen a crocodile penned by
himself. He was still tied up and he was a big one. It
could very well be the male they were looking for. Bash pushed a button on his
console to zoom in on his night vision display. He watched the croc intently as
he manoeuvred around the property.
Hardback glanced up at the insect-like craft that circled
above him. Still exhausted after the capture, he had no energy to ponder the
meaning of it. He felt tired and helpless and trapped. He slumped back into the
mud, desolate.
Bash reached for his radio again—Crawf? Can you read me? I think weÕve got him. Over.
The radio hissed as Bash continued
to fly over the farm and Crawf asked—Bringing
him in single-handed? In the dark? Like to see that.
Over.
Bash took one more look at the layout of the farm as he swung over it—Very funny. Coming in, ready or not. Over and out.
He turned the radio off and the plane zoomed up the river.
Away from the croc farm, further up river, Crawf waited in
the larger wingship for Bash to return from his reccie. To conserve energy he
was parked at the end of a runway, waiting until the small plane returned to
dock. He looked up as he heard the plane approaching.
Bash landed perfectly on the very small space provided on
the wingship roof. He expected nothing less of himself. From a distance it
might have looked as if a dragonfly had landed on top of a bird.
Crawf couldnÕt help ducking involuntarily as the tiny craft
bumped onto the roof. This was a difficult procedure but the locking systems
clicked into place perfectly and the little plane was once more affixed to the
wingship roof.
Wearing his harness, Bash clambered through the planeÕs
trapdoor and swung himself into the cockpit of the wingship. He unclipped and
got comfortable alongside the controls; a tiny amphibian figure nestled at the
operating panel.
Crawf started the flight procedures and adjusted the
throttle as the turbines whirred aggressively—What do you think? Can we get him out? He looked over to Bash, his
large feathered comb rising slightly—Oh,
and one more question; what do we do with him when we do get him out?
—HavenÕt a clue, said
Bash.
—Well, we canÕt
give up, can we? Crawf shrugged—WeÕve
got to spring him. Though, what theyÕre thinking sending you and me, I donÕt
know. What the heck can we do?
—WeÕve got
time on our side, said Bash—That load of old crocÕs not going anywhere
in a hurry.
Crawf leaned forward, easing the swan-like wingship up into
the air. At about three metres long, the wingship was able to travel at speed
over flat terrain at very low altitudes. It was the Ektek vehicle of choice for
middle distances, especially over water. The craft zoomed away over the river,
skimming barely a metre from the surface. The stubby wings banked and the craft
turned slowly, steadied, then regained position
speeding low over the scrub.
They moved inland, out of sight.
Shining Teeth and the rest of the harem had returned to
their backwater home to await news. They floated quietly, waiting, just a snout
out of the water here and a pair of marble eyes there. They lifted their heads
as a distinctive hum announced the approach of the Ektek wingship. The craft
slowed and landed gracefully, like a swan gliding onto the surface of a lake,
scooping the air before it in curved braking wings.
When the wingship had come to rest, Crawf looked at
Bash—Ready?
Bash said—No.
And I don't think I ever will be.
Crawf patted the frog on the head with a wing tip—TheyÕre in trouble.
Bash stared out of the cockpit at the assembly of
reptiles—TheyÕre crocodiles.
—DonÕt act
like a snack, said Crawf—And you wonÕt be one.
—Thanks
for that titbit, said Bash—YouÕre making me feel crunchy talking about
it.
—Just get
out on the wing!
The two creatures climbed out of the cockpit and stood on
the wing, waiting to greet their troubled animal comrades. As Shining Teeth
approached the wingship, Crawf and Bash both backed away a little. But not too
far, the wingship wasnÕt very stable. Bash managed to sneak in behind Crawf.
Not that Bash was a coward. He was just very small.
The rest of the harem came, one by one, to join Shining
Teeth. The crocodiles were so big and seemed so threatening it was difficult to
see how a cockatoo and a frog could even communicate with them. In the end,
Crawf jumped right in and shouted to Shining Teeth—ThereÕs a large male at the crocodile farm upstream. Even though it was
dark we could make out an old scar on the left flank— recent cut to the
tail?
Shining Teeth turned to her harem—HeÕs alive.
Jata breathed in—At
least we know where he is.
—And he's
staying put, said Crawf.
Shining Teeth nodded and turned back to the Ektek
representative. Oh, wait, she could see there was a frog as well. That made two
creatures that couldnÕt be less impressive. She sighed and asked—When will you get him out?
Bash and Crawf looked at each other. Bash swallowed and
muttered towards the ground—Not
going to be easy.
Shining Teeth didnÕt hear him and didnÕt think much of him
anyway—What?
Crawf looked at the approaching crocodiles in the dawn
light—We canÕt do it by ourselves.
Shining Teeth growled—You have all the help you require right here. We have many skills.
Crawf was unconvinced—The farmers are armed. There are dogs and fences. ItÕs difficult to see
how to get him out at this stage. We need to prepare a plan with our team. We
will return.
—Oh,
thatÕs rich, isnÕt it, Shining Teeth
turned round to look at the harem—You
thought they could help.
—To be
fair, Shining Teeth, said Asunder—They did
say theyÕd come back with a plan.
—They lie.
Ektek is a bird and a frog. They are weak.
—Hang on a
tick, there, said Crawf—Shining Teeth, is it? Look, Shining Teeth,
itÕs a big farm. We will need to set up surveillance and see how they operate
before we go rushing in.
Bash chimed in—DonÕt
worry. ThereÕs more to Ektek than just little old us!
—We canÕt
bust him out without a plan. HeÕd certainly die and so would we.
—So, weÕll
be back, said Bash and both creatures
turned to climb into the cockpit.
—DonÕt leave us
now! said Damura.
—Get him out!
shouted Grater.
—Why canÕt we
raid the place right now? said Asunder—They wouldnÕt be expecting us.
—We need
to consult our strategists, shouted
Bash—We will return. Ektek will always
do their best to assist an endangered creature.
—Or die
trying, said Crawf.
The crocodiles moved closer to the wingship, slowly, and
with definite menace. Crawf and Bash grew nervous and scrambled back into their
cockpit. Bash muttered—I wish you
hadnÕt said that. I really, really wish you hadnÕt said that.
—CouldnÕt
help it, Bash. Had to give them somethingÉ
—Our
lives?
—CanÕt see
any way out of this one, can you?
Again the turbines whirred as the craft slowly came to speed
and started to move away from the riverbank.
—Just one way.
Just go up, said Bash, deeply relieved to get away from those prehistoric
monsters—And step on it.
The crocodiles couldnÕt believe Ektek was leaving them with
nothing. They had put all their hope into an effective force arriving and
rescuing Hardback immediately. With a sharp order of command from Shining
Teeth, they sprinted after the wingship. Shining Teeth leapt straight up out of
the water and snapped her jaws wide around a wing.
Asunder also shot out of the river and grabbed hold of the
other side of the little vehicle. The crocodiles grappled with the wingship and
finally dragged it, revving hopelessly, and at a dreadful angle, to shore.
Shining Teeth muttered through her clenched jaw—We need to have a little chat about
priorities, donÕt we, froggy?
Chapter Six
Several glow-worm colonies had been persuaded to live in the
caves under Bedlam Zoo. Fuel, and the power stored from solar energy in
batteries, was precious and Ektek only used it when absolutely necessary.
Glow-worms were clustered together over a small area in the hangar. Other than
their blue fairy stars stretched out across the ceiling of the cave, it was
dark, very dark.
Min, Zip and Antenna, together with a small group of
assorted mechanic beetles, concentrated on the little red car. Min held a small
torch, focussed on the bitten side. The damaged vehicle had brought home to the
team just how close Zip had been to injury, or worse. The driverÕs side was
completely gone. It would need careful rebuilding.
—I canÕt
understand how you managed to dodge him, said Antenna.
—Neither do I,
said Zip.
—You were lucky,
said Antenna.
—Really lucky,
said Min.
—I donÕt know
what I would have done if Hod hadnÕt turned up, said Zip—Another stunt like that oneÉ
—Someone could
really get hurt, said Antenna.
—Maybe even Hod.
Then again, maybe that wouldnÕt be so badÉ
—As I see
it, Min was quick to change the
subject—Zip was in the wrong
vehicle at the wrong time. The steam engine just takes too long to get going.
By the time sheÕd hit the ignition after the boiler reached pressure, the
komodo was already there.
Zip agreed—Unfortunately,
we thought it was going to be a safe surveillance operation. No one ever
imagined weÕd have to make such a quick getaway.
— ThatÕs
my fault, Antenna said—I should have seen it comingÉ
—It was
not, said Zip.
—No, it wasnÕt, said
Min.
—ItÕs all HodÕs fault and I think he should have to face the
consequences. DonÕt you take this on, Antenna. ItÕs
not yours.
—I still feel ...
—Not
guilty? What are you? A fortune teller?
As they argued, the hydraulic supports on one side of the
vehicle gave way and a wheel fell off, toppling onto the ground. The crash
resonated through the cavern. The mechanics all leapt backwards, looked at each
other and laughed.
—Needs work?
sniggered Zip.
Antenna reached out to pat Min—I can deal with this if youÕd rather take some time out?
—Oh, for ZedÕs sake, Min vehemently turned away—LetÕs get on with it. A bombardier beetle climbed onto the fallen
wheel—Hang on, Min picked her
up with her hand—LetÕs make sure
itÕs stable before we rush in fixing it.
Torque and Spark flew into the hangar from the tunnels. They
stopped at the car when they saw Min there—Min! Quick, said Torque, still trying to get his breath back—People! Searching your habitat. Now. Go.
Fast.
—My É ? said Min.
—Yes, yours. In uniforms. Not our staff. Some others.
Antenna was surprised too—But itÕs still dark.
—CanÕt
tell you any more than that,
said Torque—YouÕd better get up
there, quick.
Min handed the torch over to Antenna and turned to go.
—Are you okay?
asked Antenna.
Min replied—Yes,
yes, good, fine. See you at the meeting.
—Very
sorry for your loss, Torque flew beside
Min as she ran down the passageway—IÕm
going to miss your mum like she was my own É he said in a low voice, and
then, embarrassed, turned on his darkling wings before she had time to even nod
an acknowledgement of his concern. She felt grim but she continued to run. What
was happening in her home?
Back at the little red car, Zip looked at Antenna—What was that about? Antenna breathed in
and said—YouÕre not the only one
with bad news. And she told Zip about the clearing.
It took no time for the story of MinÕs awful change in
status to spread through the tunnels of Ektek and the enclosures of Bedlam Zoo.
It was always greeted with sympathy. No one could imagine a worse plight than
to be the last of your kind. It was a nightmare to be an endling.
Helmut was
already in the office when Antenna and Zip got there. He sat quietly at the
controllerÕs seat in front of the computer console. He was backlit by the
changing colours displayed on the screens. He was staring into the middle
distance, apparently meditating. He was bent and dusty. He looked wrinkled, his
cassowary skin suddenly too big for his bones.
Antenna, Zip, Torque and Spark all came into the control
centre at once. Antenna took a step towards the bird but stopped—Helmut?
—HavenÕt
managed to talk to Min yet. The
cassowary looked down at Antenna. She could see there was nothing wrong with the
flair of intelligence in his eyes—How
is she?
—Coping.
—Too young
to cope with losing parents, far too young.
—Happens
to all of us.
—You were
too young, Antenna, far too young when your father went. There was still much
for him to teach you. When I heard what Hod had done, leaving Zip like that, in
the middle of an operation, his inexperience hit me. Really rocked me. Can we
keep demanding so much from you all? Such untried youngsters,
running such haphazard undertakings? ItÕs madness. Puts us all in danger
and to what end? What do we achieve?
Antenna looked at him steadily—WeÕre already in danger, Helmut.
—You know
what I mean.
—What else
can we do?
—Stop.
Wait. Take more time to plan. Train more creatures. Look further afield.
—Helmut?
—Yes?
—SheÕll be
okay. Min. WeÕll go on as before, as Ektek must. We
have no choice.
The cassowary sighed. The weight of seniority was heavy on
him. How came he to be the last founding member? He wanted so much to believe
that Ektek could continue indefinitely—I hope so, Antenna. I truly hope so.
Torque, as head of security, said—IÕll go and see whatÕs happening in the nocturnal house. He left
the control centre, a short dark beetle moving slowly. It would have been
quicker to send Spark by himself but that young larva still had much to learn,
so Torque merely inclined his head and Spark followed obediently. Spark was
just keeping his head down, trying to be useful, hoping he might be offered
permanent Ektek status. He went wherever Torque went, figuring that being
obliging was the best strategy when youÕre after a job.
Helmut, Antenna and Zip, together with assorted beetles and
ants, huddled around the light emanating from the computer monitors. They
waited silently. Waiting for the one who must be admonished. Finally he came.
When he entered the control cave, HodÕs white chest and
belly glowed in the blue luminosity. He looked around the group with his head
held high. He was defiant.
—Ah, there you
are, Hod. Sit down, sit down, Hoddy.
Make yourself comfortable. Helmut, the cassowary, looked around the group
calmly—LetÕs begin the meeting,
he said, his eyes bright in the gloom—Min
can catch up.
—First
things first, then. I think Hod should receive a reprimand, said Zip.
—A reprimand?
For doing what I did? For helping a creature that was
suffering? About to die? IsnÕt that what weÕre
supposed to do?
—Maybe we
could hear his side of the story before we dole out the punishment, Zip? said Antenna.
—Hod. You
endangered one of our own team, said Helmut—Did you not think of Zip?
Hod looked down and shook his head before taking in a deep
breath and looking back at the group. Some of his insolence had dissipated and
he spoke with sincerity—I just
couldnÕt bear it, he said—We do
all these actions but theyÕre not really actions, are they? TheyÕre just
watching, observing, recording, and not doing anything, not real action. Nothing
ever seems to change. Things get worse, if anything. So when I saw that komodo,
it was like, suddenly, here was something I could do, something that could
maybe even save a life for a change. I wasnÕt helpless any more. For once, I
felt like I was doing something. I helped him, for ZedÕs sake.
—You were
reckless! You were! Zip talked to Hod as
though she were explaining basic mathematics to an egg—You were stupid. You broke into the kitchen,
freed a dangerous animal É
—You werenÕt
there. You didnÕt see him.
—Not until
he tried to eat me!
—You
didnÕt see him squashed into the cage. You didnÕt hear him. Begging. I had to
help him. You would have too.
Antenna leaned forward to catch HodÕs attention and focussed
her gaze on him. She spoke quietly—But
you canÕt just act like that, without thinking. What about the consequences?
—I
couldnÕt ignore him! He needed my help.
—But you
upset the whole place, continued
Antenna, urgently—CanÕt you see
that? You single-handedly bungled the entire action É
—And canÕt
you see, no one got hurt? There werenÕt any big consequences at all.
—That
depends on what you mean by big. Did he get away? The komodo?
—They shot
him.
There was a pause as they took this in, each Ektek member
thinking of the futile waste of life and HodÕs attempts to save him. It wasnÕt
fair and each creature present knew they had to be cleverer than this to
achieve their ends. Antenna spoke first—Hod. IÕm so sorry.
—YouÕre
sorry. HeÕs sorry. IÕm sorry. I know it was an extreme thing to do. I am
sincerely sorry I stuffed up with Zip but donÕt you ever feel like that?
Frustrated? Powerless? Do you know? How we make things change?
—ItÕs
difficult to get past the fact you left Zip,
said Helmut.
—I went back for
her! I rescued her. I saved her life. What about that? Seems to me I deserve a
medal, not a bleeding reprimand!
—You
shouldnÕt have left her in the first place, said
Antenna.
—ArenÕt we
supposed to look after our own? said Zip.
Helmut looked directly at Hod—You do know you are free to leave Ektek at any time?
This was an extraordinary question. No animal had ever left
Ektek. Antenna and Zip looked at each other while Helmut apparently waited for
the answer.
Hod was very quiet. It was unusual behaviour for this
particular yellow-footed rock wallaby and Helmut, Antenna and Zip shared
worried glances in the serious blue radiance. Hod looked down. His shoulders
began to shake. Antenna got up and went to him, to pat him sympathetically. As
she looked up into his face she jumped backwards. He wasnÕt crying, filled with
remorse and sorrow, as she had expected.
Hod was laughing.
Antenna pushed him hard and returned to her seat, her hair
stuck out in anger, puffing out her rusty striped body.
Hod flung his head back, releasing his pent up emotion in a
huge guffaw. The rest of the animals gaped in amazement. What was to be done
with Hod? They looked at each other but no one had an answer. Hod continued to
laugh. Helmut and Antenna glanced at each other. Helmut shook his head slightly
and opened his eyes wider, as if to say, see what I mean?
Antenna rose onto her four feet and went to look up at Hod.
Then she sat up on her hindquarters, which brought her closer to his height,
and looked into his rigid face—Hod?
He finished laughing and looked at her without any expectation—You do know Wilkinson was cleared last
night? MinÕs mum died, said Antenna—Yes, thatÕs right. SheÕs gone. Min is the endling, now. So, while itÕs
important to do something to help endangered animals individually, absolutely;
we are all, in fact, endangered here. We have to look after each other or we
canÕt do anything to help anyone. We have to work together. Hoddy, please, I
need you to help me.
Hod looked at Antenna and very quietly reached out and made
as if to pat her – he was certainly reaching out to her – when
MinÕs arrival broke the tension. SheÕd been running—Sorry IÕm late. SomethingÕs oddÉ
—Yes, said Torque, who flew into the cave immediately followed by
Spark. He was still a bit puffed when he said—Had to climb the camera. Make sure it wasnÕt recording anymoreÉ
—Camera?
What camera? said Antenna—Recording
what?
—Me, replied
Min—Some sort of video camera. So,
IÕm asking myself, what for? Why would they want footage of me, sleeping in the
false day of the nocturnal house?
—ItÕs not
rocket surgery, is it? LetÕs see,
said Hod—Do you think it could be,
um, because youÕre an endling?
—Thanks
for that, Hod. Antenna glared at
him—Why are you doing this?
Hod just shook his head. He looked down and then said—Okay. Okay. IÕm sorry. IÕm with you.
Min watched him curiously and then, back on track,
said—More than that. ItÕs a weird
camera and thereÕs something familiar about it. I know IÕve seen one before but
I canÕt think where.
—IÕm
always being filmed, said Zip—Hey, now you come to mention it, there was a
camera in my enclosure yesterday.
—You
didnÕt say anything? asked
Antenna.
—DidnÕt seem out
of the ordinary.
—Of
course, sneered Hod—Just a paparazzi magnet, you are.
—Thanks, Hod, said Zip with
only the merest trace of sarcasm hardening her gratitude—Though, Min, it was big, wasnÕt it. Bigger than a normal vid camera? And, yeah, IÕve seen one
too. But where?
—Let us
know when you remember, said
Helmut—But right now we must
resolve HodÕs discipline issues.
—ItÕs
true, said Zip—I for one will not work with him again.
—Right, said Hod—Consider
me reprimanded, then. Can we move on?
Antenna frowned at him but Hod avoided her gaze. Antenna
couldnÕt work him out. Helmut looked around the small group of creatures,
assessing their mood. He nodded, giving implicit permission.
—The difference
is, the camera was inside your enclosure, not outside the wire? asked Min.
—Hey, youÕre
right, said Zip—I never
noticed.
—So itÕs
not just about being the last LeadbeaterÕs possum. I think we need to find out
if anyone else is being filmed.
—Right, said Zip.
—I think we
should follow them when they pick up the tapes, said Min.
—Sounds
like weÕve got a plan, said Helmut.
—What if theyÕve
discovered Ektek? said Min.
—How? asked Helmut.
Zip looked at Hod and spoke deliberately—It is possible that someone followed us
after HodÕs little intervention yesterday.
—Listen,
Zip. IÕm beginning to think I should have just left you to the komodo, said Hod—IÕve
been reprimanded so just leave it alone, will you?
—The films
arenÕt our only problem, Antenna changed
the subject—We still havenÕt talked
about Bash and Crawf. TheyÕre being held to ransom by the crocs.
—Safe? asked Helmut.
—For the moment,
said Antenna—The beetles tell me
theyÕve found Hardback but the harem want action now. What do we do?
Helmut looked round the group—Do we have any ideas how to get a large male crocodile out of a farm
heavily guarded by armed men and dogs day and night?
Antenna said—What
do you think the crocsÕd say to some fact-finding?
—ItÕs
worth a try, said Helmut.
—We need to know
regular staff movements around Hardback. WeÕll also need a map of the area.
Bash and Crawf have to be freed for reconnaissance. You think the crocsÕll buy
it?
—No! said Hod—This is exactly what IÕm talking about,
isnÕt it! More surveillance. More observations. More nothing. TheyÕre crocs.
They want action! And I know how they feel.
—HodÉ breathed Antenna.
—IÕm sorry for
Bash and Crawf but if we explain to the crocs we need the information first, we
can have the airship on the way by evening, said Helmut.
—That means
theyÕll have to fend off crocodiles for another two days, said Zip—But we do need information to make an
effective rescue. CanÕt just rush in and expect homo-sapiens
to hand him over, can you?
—When they
were recording me, said Min, still
thinking of her enclosure and photography experiences—All the crickets were alive and really
fresh.
—Is that
unusual? said Zip—I mean, I
wouldnÕt know. I tend to prefer my fruit not skipping around, you know?
—The group
doing the filming was called The Really Free Wildlife Company. It was on the
technicianÕs overalls, said Min—It felt as if they were trying to recreate a
totally realistic environment. With fresh branches and those live crickets.
—Catchy
name. Really Free. Nice idea, said Zip—Impossible
dream.
—What about you,
Zip? Notice anything unusual while you were being filmed?
—Now that
you come to mention it, I thought I heard ... Nah É Silly É
—What?
—Well, I
was almost sure I heard a É
—What?
—YouÕll
laugh at me. Male fruit bat.
—No male
fruit bats around here!
—YouÕre
telling me! Zip chuckled and
looked around the rest of the group. There were all amused by her
outburst—Okay, so maybe IÕm just a
little bit desperate.
—You think
theyÕre trying to make you feel like youÕre back in the wild? I mean, they are
called the Really Free Wildlife Company,
said Min.
—WeÕll find out
tomorrow. After Operation Emancipation.
—WeÕll
take the airship, said Helmut—With Min, Zip and Hod.
—Not Hod, said Zip.
Hod was exasperated—Oh, for ZedÕs sake.
—No. Not
Hod, said Helmut—He can follow in the trike.
—And there
wonÕt be the extra surveillance equipment; you do know that, donÕt you? said Antenna. She could feel their annoyance and at the same
time their resignation. This was Ektek. They had limited resources. Nothing
would be straightforward.
—Because?
—IntekÕs
searching for illegal drum and mesh nets in the river system, said Zip—They
need it. What if they had to report an incident?
—TheyÕve
been working on this indig fish operation for a very long time, said Antenna—IÕll
be monitoring them but youÕll always be able toÉ
—Permission
to speak? growled
Torque.
—Not you, too,
said Hod. Antenna glanced at him, almost ready to be sympathetic, but not
quite.
—Granted,
said Helmut.
—This here
grubÕs called Spark. He was the number from the crocs. He wants an
apprenticeship. More than my jobÕs worth to have an assistant without your say
so but thereÕs a heck of a lot of security work that needs doing
Ôround here. More than an old beetle such as myself can get Ôround. IÕd
certainly appreciate the help.
As a group, Ektek turned to Spark,
a somewhat larger beetle than Torque, albeit younger. They had no problem with
the idea. It was enough that a creature wanted to join Ektek. As much as a
Christmas beetle could, Spark grinned obligingly at
them all. Antenna, Min, Helmut and Zip nodded and smiled in return. Hod did not
allow any expression over his face.
—Welcome
aboard, Spark, said Helmut.
—Looking forward
to working with you, said Antenna.
—Congratulations,
said Zip.
—Welcome to
Ektek, said Min.
—Brilliant,
said Spark.
—Good luck,
mate, said Hod—YouÕre going to
need every last scrap of it around here.
Chapter Seven
I
That afternoon, following closing time, Helmut and Zip
climbed into the airship; accompanied by a small team of engineer beetles. The
airship headquarters, known as Uptek, was a zeppelin-like craft approximately
twenty metres long. Ektek could launch and monitor missions by audio links
between Uptek – the airship – and Ontek vehicles.
A mag-lev track was positioned on
the top surface of the ship to launch smaller vehicles. If required, the pilot
could launch the smaller planes while comfortably sitting in the cockpit of the
airship. Magnetic levitation was a system constructed of a series of magnets
that could be activated one at a time very quickly. The plane catapulted
forward to each new magnet, and then the next and the next, efficiently
building enough speed to fling the plane off the airship. The vehicle also
carried a variety of surveillance equipment, aerials, a satellite dish and a
solar panel array for additional power.
Ektek usually took the airship into the hangar at night.
Now, refuelled and refurbished with food and water by the ants and beetles, it
was tethered by the emergency Ektek exit ready for Operation Emancipation to
begin. Helmut, Zip and the beetles did their last minute inspections before
they waited for Min to join them.
Helmut sat heavily in the pilotÕs seat. HeÕd checked fuel,
electrics and then, with trepidation, turned to the communications system. He
had cause for concern. He knew only too well that the radio had failed him
during the last action. He was frightened that something he had done had caused
the problem and he desperately did not want that to happen again—Ektek? Can you hear me? Over.
AntennaÕs voice answered him promptly—Thanks, Uptek. Loud and
clear. Over.
—ThatÕs a
relief. Any problems I should be aware of? Over.
—Manifold
tells me they examined every circuit. Nothing. No more thoughts since we last
spoke? Two complete communication breakdowns canÕt happen again. Over, said Antenna.
Helmut sat in the pilotÕs seat, pondering—I shall do my best, Antenna. On that you may
rest assured. Over.
—Never had
any doubts, Helmut. Over.
Helmut hung his head miserably as he switched off the mic.
He had doubts. Serious doubts. He had a dreadful feeling those communication
breakdowns were something to do with him. Only, he had no idea what the problem
was and he had absolutely no idea how to solve it.
II
Zip was in the hold with Manifold doing last minute checks.
They finished tightening the stowage on the little red steam car—Looking good, here, thanks, Manifold. Amazed
your team managed to get it going again, said Zip.
Manifold gave her a cheery wave as
she left the airship with her beetle team—No worries, Zip. ThatÕs what we do.
—Thanks,
Manifold, said Zip—See you when we get back.
III
In her nocturnal house enclosure in the Australian animal
section of the Zoo, where the lights were still off, pretending it was night,
Min whispered to Torque—How much
longer's he going to be?
They watched a man wearing overalls printed with the logo of
the Really Free Wildlife Company as he dismantled the camera and put tapes and
devices into a sturdy road case. There were several other tapes already packed.
Torque said—Sssh.
Min feigned sleep as the researcher warbled amiably with
MinÕs keeper and then, finally, both humans left. The lights snapped on and it
was again broad bright sunshine in the nocturnal house. Blinking, Torque
thought to himself about manipulating environment—IÕll never get used to that. When Torque gave her the all
clear—TheyÕve gone, Min jumped
up to run through the tunnels, through the cavern and up the rope ladder to the
airship. Torque turned to Spark—Off
you go, pipsqueak. Tell Antenna sheÕs on her way.
Spark nodded and snapped his wings with a click—Yes, sir! He flew ahead to relay the
information to Antenna in the control centre. Torque shook his head as he
followed the Christmas beetle wavering in the dim hallways—And donÕt you
get lost, you young buzzer!
IV
The Really Free Wildlife Company researcher marched through
the zoo and got into a white car in the parking area. The car moved out. Hod
waited by the gate inside his trike, fully covered with a sleek fairing
designed to cut down wind resistance. The cover made the wallaby-powered
vehicle look more like a baby racing car. The trike was low to the ground and
the fairing was an all weather cover that also cut down wind resistance. He
took off after the car. Fast. The trike was stable and quick, propelled at
speed by his mighty wallaby legs.
V
Min clambered aboard the airship and entered the bridge. She
sat next to Helmut who immediately commenced launch procedures—Clear for take off. Over.
Beetles and ants ran about down below, casting off and
shouting encouragements—All clear
above and asternÉ
In the hold, Zip hunkered down in her little red car.
—And weÕre off.
Over, said Helmut into his radio mic.
—Travel safe.
Over, said Antenna from the control centre cave. Antenna, and her father in
the past, had hacked into the zooÕs bureaucracy so the airship could move
through any airspace unimpeded. The Ektek administrative activities managed to
slip by humans because nothing disrupted the zooÕs business; if there was no
problem with their communications systems then there was no reason for humans
to pay attention to Ektek at all.
The airship was quick to lift off and proceed in its stately
manner following Hod on his trike. The skin over the airship envelope was
clearly marked ÔBedlam ZooÕ and painted brightly with images of animals. From
an air traffic point of view, the airship belonged to the zoo but only Ektek
used it. From the zoo staffÕs point of view, someone must be operating it,
however, if it was not their department, it was not their business.
The bright skin was an example of the other side of EktekÕs
survival strategy; the more blatant, the more it was overlooked. Similarly,
HodÕs trike also used the bold-is-invisible theory. Easily able to keep up with
the car through the stop-start of urban traffic, HodÕs trike was a sight for
sore eyes; or rather, a sight to make eyes sore. The fairing was painted bright
orange, decorated with catsÕ eyes, flashing lights and emblazoned with several
large stickers that read, ÔA donation a day keeps the whalers awayÕ and ÔOur
planet is for lifeÕ. A large orange flag printed with ÔSave the Animals Give
Money NowÕ flapped above his head, making the whereabouts of the recumbent even
more obvious to the surrounding traffic. Thank goodness for do-gooder humans
and their brazen, weird publicity stunts. It didnÕt matter what colour the
camouflage took, just so long as it was ignored.
The researcherÕs car turned into the parking lot in a
suburban office area. The researcher stopped the vehicle and got out. He walked
across the bitumen carrying the road case towards a small nondescript building,
much the same as all the other office blocks in the suburb.
Hod spun into the car park – coming almost face to
face with the researcher—and kept right on going as if he had some urgent
purpose. The researcher gave neither wallaby nor gaudy craft a second glance.
Hod paused behind a wall and watched as the man entered the building. He picked
up his radio—Uptek. Come in please.
Over.
The radio hissed with HelmutÕs voice—Yes, Hod. Over.
—HeÕs just
entered a building; corner of Chevron and erÉ Haliburton Streets. Over.
—Thanks, weÕre right above you. Could you notify as to roof
suitability? Over.
—IÕm going
in. Over. HodÕs voice sounded determined
even through the radio speakers. Perhaps he wanted to redeem himself after the
restaurant. Perhaps he was just surging forward on his adrenalin. In the
airship cockpit, Min and Helmut looked anxiously at each other and Min
asked—Hod isnÕt going to do
anything stupid, is he?
Helmut thought for a moment. Then he looked back to Min.
Both nodded. Yup. He could. The mood that wallaby was
in anything stupid was entirely possible.
—Hod! Take it
easy! Over. Helmut wasnÕt sure if Hod would still have his radio on. He
could only assume that Hod and his trike were in the lift. Going up.
VI
When the airship had located the office block, Helmut
navigated it around the building. Then he said quietly to Min—Look.
The airship glided by a billboard erected over the smart
foyer area of the building. It featured a large photograph of a simpering Zip.
Bold letters proclaimed: ÔThe Virtual Zoo. See the wonders of the past!Õ
Helmut shook his head—I donÕt think Zip is going to like this.
—Are you
kidding? Min laughed—SheÕs going to love it! Her portrait? On a gigantic billboard for everyone to see? What more could
she want?
Helmut pointed out—It
says, sheÕs a wonder of the past.
—Oh,
right. The past? said
Min—WhatÕs going on?
HodÕs voice came through the speakers—All clear, Uptek. The roof is free of
obstructions for landing. Over and out.
The floating airship hovered over the office block roof.
Helmut commenced landing procedures.
Hod, waiting on the roof, took the landing ropes and tied
them onto the metal steps of the lift well. Then HodÕs voice crackled through
the radio—Leaving the trike on the
roof. Going for a reccie. Over.
Helmut finished shutting down the airshipÕs landing
systems—Thanks, Hod. Over and out.
In the hold, Zip waited; a keen young fruit bat in need of
action. A speaker in the car hissed briefly with MinÕs voice—Hold doors now opening. Good luck, Zip.
Over.
—Over and
out. Zip zoomed out of the hold in the
steam-powered sports car—Yeeeeeeeeeee
haaaaaaaaa!
Even Helmut and Min could hear her in the cockpit as they
caught sight of her speedy dash across the roof—At least she enjoys her work, said Helmut.
The sports car fitted easily into a normal lift. It was
highly manoeuvrable and relatively quiet. Zip was headed straight for the
electrical centre of the building, checking for computer placements. She
intended to search for and download any relevant material to the Ektek memory
sticks and blank CD roms she had tucked into her back pocket hidden beneath her
wings.
Sitting still in the cockpit, Min and Helmut heard HodÕs
voice spitting through the speakers—Uptek?
Our friend is about to leave the building. Over.
—At least heÕs
still in radio contact, Helmut, said Min.
Helmut nodded and replied into the mic—Any other occupants? Over.
HodÕs voice came through the radio again—HeÕs taking the only other one I can see
with him. Building appears to be otherwise empty. Over.
—Be
careful, said Helmut—There will probably be others still there.
Take nothing for granted, Hod. Over and out.
—Yeah,
yeah, yeah. Hod turned his little
radio off and put it away in his messenger bag—Tell me something I donÕt know. He watched the liftÕs indicators go
down to the ground floor before he walked down the corridor to enter the
offices. He found himself in a large open-plan space with short room partitions
in pale green fabric. He looked around the humdrum area and smiled quietly.
This ought to keep him busy for a while. He began to nose through some paper
work and bookshelves.
VII
Zip found herself in a strange kind of studio. The walls
were padded with geometric shaped grey foam. The air was still and pressed
strangely on her ears. It was very, very quiet. In the centre of the space a
brightly lit animal slowly turned around and posed as if for an audience. Zip
could walk right round her, and did so, marvelling at the creature. Zip stopped
and stared at this vision of light and said—Hi, there. Fancy seeing you here.
It was a LeadbeaterÕs possum and looked a lot like Min. There
was no response to ZipÕs greeting and the lights and projectors that surrounded
the tiny possum were undaunted as Zip waved her hands through the illusion. It
appeared that images of Min had been made into a hologram.
Zip pressed a button by the sign that read ÔThe Last
LeadbeaterÕs PossumÕ activating a sound grab. A gravely senior humanÕs voice,
someone used to being listened to, someone with power, growled out words
authoritatively. His tone was grinding, grim and final. Zip shuddered in
horror. Whatever it meant, it didnÕt sound good for the LeadbeaterÕs possum.
In UptekÕs cockpit, ZipÕs voice came through the
radio—WhereÕs Min? Over.
Min bent to the mic in the airship—Right here, Zip. WhatÕs up? Over.
Zip said—IÕm
looking at you, kid. Here. Over.
Min looked around the cabin and out of the windows. Not
seeing Zip, she took it to be some kind of joke—How do I seem? Over.
—You
ÔseemÕ to be in two places at once. I just waved my hand right through you.
YouÕd better get down here. Take a good long hard look at yourself. Over.
Min sucked her chin back into her neck, frowned and shook
her head—WhatÕs Zip talking about? She looked back at Helmut—Did you get that?
Helmut stared at her blankly and Min could see he was not
listening to her. More than that, he was not even conscious of her. Then he
turned his head slightly to stare out of the window. He sat bolt upright. He
appeared to be listening to something that only he could hear. His eyes became
glazed and he twitched—No! He
shook his head, as if trying to dislodge something, a memory or a figment or a
ghost É
Min watched him intently—Helmut?
Suddenly he banged his beak into the control panel. Then he
lifted his head, shook his bony cap and stared some more. Frightened, Min
wondered where Helmut had gone. Physically he was here, but certainly not
mentally. She flicked the switch to call Antenna—Ektek. Come in, please. Over.
Nothing. Not a hiss, not a static soup, nothing at all. She
thought, sighing, what a time for the communications to go down again and spoke
into the mic—Ektek. Come in,
please. Can you hear me, Antenna? Please? Antenna? Over. She switched
channels and tried again—Zip? Can
you hear me? Hod? Anyone? Can anyone hear me? At all?
Over.
Silence. Except for the large bird breathing erratically.
Apparently, Helmut was lost in his own mind. Min had never seen him act like
this. What could she do? She looked at the control panel and at the doors. She
was trapped. Nothing. She could do nothing—Helmut? Stop it. Please.
Helmut just stared.
VIII
In the well-lit office, Hod discovered advertising for a set
of holograms; all endangered animals. There was a stunning poster of a dugong
gliding through deep water in green filtered light. The bold headline read:
Amazing! Astounding! 3D dugong! Swims like a mermaid! Get close enough to
almost touch it!
Here was a beautiful picture of a platypus crouching near
the entrance of her tunnel, on the banks of a creek. ÔExperience the last
faunal emblem up close in extraordinary 3D audio visual technology you simply
wonÕt believe.Õ
And here was a tiny LeadbeaterÕs possum peeking down from a
mountain ash, ÔStunning Hologram Virtuosity! An emblem, a LeadbeaterÕs possum
so real, you could swear it was looking right at you.Õ
And, thought Hod, it was.
And, thought Hod, it looked an awful lot like Min.
And, thought Hod, that didnÕt bode very well at all.
IX
In Uptek, HelmutÕs battle with his inner demons was slowing
down. His twitches lessened as the interference seemed
to fade from his mind.
Min spoke again—Helmut?
Helmut jumped. He looked over at Min in confusion—Was it you?
Min examined him—What?
—Talking?
—Yes.
—What did
you say?
—Um, said
Min—Helmut.
—What? said Helmut.
—ThatÕs what I
said, said Min—I said your
name. I said, Helmut.
Helmut thought about this seriously—Let me know if you say anything else.
Min took time to consider this puzzle. She looked askance at
Helmut. Was he back to normal? Helmut stretched out his glossy wings and bent
his blue neck this way and that. Then he closed his eyes, taking a moment of
recovery. Suddenly Min didnÕt like this mission at all. Why was she bracing
herself for danger on a simple surveillance? She leaned over the radio mic—Ektek? Come in, please. Over.
AntennaÕs voice came through clearly—WhatÕs happening, Uptek? Over.
A flood of relief went through Min and she bent to the
mic—We had another black out. You
okay there? Over. She waited for AntennaÕs response. Strange. There was
none. Min bent to the mic again—Ektek?
Come in please. ThatÕs when Helmut woke up and started banging the side of
his head against the window shouting—You
canÕt make me!
—Helmut!
Stop it! said
Min. She tried to get between him and the window but he couldnÕt see her and he
was moving with considerable force. She backed down, fearing her small size
would make her vulnerable to crushing, and said—Helmut? CanÕt make you what?
—I must
not! I am responsible for more lives than just mine! Others would be at risk! Helmut became more and more agitated, flinging his head and
shouting—No! ItÕs impossible!
Through his distress Min heard the buzzer sound which meant
someone wanted to enter the airship—Uptek?
It was Zip speaking through the coms, a blare of reason and sanity into the
rarefied atmosphere of the cockpit—Requesting
clearance for steam car, please.
Min watched Helmut in amazement. HeÕd always been so in
control and so stalwart. Here he was crumpling before her very eyes! Min had no
idea what he might do next. She was only a small animal and he was a large
armed bird. Was he losing his reason? Could he become dangerous? She looked
over at the instrument panel. There was no way of knowing how to open the hold
door. There were no labels and she could see no manual override. Helmut
continued to argue with himself. He muttered—I must stay here.
Min said—Helmut?
Helmut looked at her; rather, he looked through her. She
reached over to him—Helmut? ItÕs
me, Min. IÕm talking to you.
Helmut didnÕt give any sign of hearing. He simply
said—IÕm not leaving.
Min said—ThatÕs
good to know. Then she took hold of one of his wings and shook him as hard
as she could. She shouted—How do I
open the hold? Helmut?
The buzzer went again.
Min shook the wing again—Zip needs to get in? Helmut! Wake up!
At last Helmut shook his head as if to clear it. He looked
at his wing and back to Min. She dropped her hold on his wing. Hod moved to
press a blue button—Under control,
he said.
Min had serious doubts about that.
The radio hissed with AntennaÕs voice—Uptek? Can you hear me? Come in please.
Over.
Helmut answered—Ektek.
Hearing you loud and clear. Over.
Antenna said—Everything
okay up there? Over.
Helmut didnÕt even look at Min—No worries, Antenna. Over and out.
That wasn't true for Min. She had plenty of worries. Then
Zip entered the cockpit at the same time as the coms buzzed and HodÕs voice
filled the space—Uptek? Trike
clearance requested. Over.
Helmut reached for the handpiece and said into the
mic—Go ahead, Hod. Over.
Apparently now fully composed, Helmut activated the hold
door to let Hod pedal his trike up the ramp. HodÕs voice coming through the
speakers held just a hint of urgency—Coming
in, guys. IÕve untied the ropes. WeÕve got to get out of here. Right now. Over and out.
—This
place is full on, Zip started talking
the instant she had an audience—The
Really Free Wildlife Company is selling holograms to zoos to replace live
animals.
Min stared at her—What?
—ItÕs
true. Zoos wonÕt need real animals any more,
said Zip.
—WhatÕs going to
happen to us? said Min.
Hod entered the cockpit, wiping his paws with
satisfaction—That ought to stop
them in their tracks. He brought with him a distinct smell ofÉ
Zip looked at him suspiciously, sniffing—What?
—Oh,
nothing to worry about. Hod
smiled—Just a little surgical
strike. He flicked a dead match at the group and rattled the rest of the
packet he held in his paw.
Helmut was immediately alert—What have you done?
Min looked from Hod to Helmut. She couldnÕt decide who was
the biggest problem.
Chapter Eight
I
Up on the airship bridge, Hod tossed the box of matches into
his messenger bag and stretched carelessly—Just taking care of business. Come on, time we went.
Helmut, Zip and Min jostled round the window. They could see
a thin strand of grey smoke escaping from the Really Free Wildlife Company
building beneath them.
Helmut snapped into action saying—Firetek. Urgent. He pushed a button on the console and immediately
a siren sounded, high and loud and a red light on the panel began to
flash—IÕve unlocked the
fire-fighting equipment. Zip. Min. Go.
—No, no,
no! said
Hod—YouÕre not listening! He
scuttled forward to the console and stared at the different buttons and
switches as he tried to work out how to stop the siren—We just leave.
As Zip and Min hurried back towards the hold to prepare the
tank and equipment, Min said—Are we
sure about this, Zip? Our gear is for bushfires.
—Fire in a
concrete jungle, said Zip—Éis still a fire.
Back on the bridge, Helmut moved in front of Hod, preventing
him from touching the console—Over
my dead body.
—You
should be thanking me, not putting fire fighting into action! YouÕre all mad.
—Hod. Tell
me. Is an airship with the Bedlam Zoo logo currently parked on top of this
building? Is it?
—Yes, butÉ
—Is there
any chance someone might see it and put two and two together and then connect
us with the fire? Is there? Any chance at all?
—ItÕs a
well-aimed pre-emptive strike. All we do is leave. Simple. We just go away.
Right now.
—Ektek is
completely ignorant of this companyÕs motivations, Hod. Helmut struggled to maintain his composure, so recently
regained—It may be that the Really
Free Wildlife Company is a threat to animals and we do need to find an
effective way to destroy it but then again, it may be that their activities are
to help animals and we should encourage them. How are we to know?
—You
always want to think the best of everyone, Hod
sneered—ItÕs obvious what theyÕre
up to.
—Is it?
How can we find out if we destroy the evidence? Before we get a chance to
examine it?
—By then
it might be too late.
Young wallaby against old cassowary;
big legs versus horny headpiece.
Helmut braced himself against the console and shouted into HodÕs face—You remind me of my son. He had no idea
either! Just wanted to rush into the fray and beat the bastards. Well. He
forgot he could lose.
—Forgot?
—Over the
years IÕve lost so many: friends, family, creatures with talent, energy,
devoted to the causeÉ Just because you fell over a packet of matches some
careless fool leftÉ And it seemed to solve all your problemsÉ
—I brought
the matches with me.
There was a distinct odour in the air. It was the smell of
danger. Hod and Helmut stared at each other in loathing as dark smoke billowed
from the Really Free Wildlife Company building.
II
Min drove the tank down the airship ramp onto the roof. She
parked as close as possible to the window from where the smoke was rising. The
tank contained rescue equipment and could be used as an all-purpose emergency
machine.
Zip and Min braced the tank into place. Zip took the end of
the cherry picker attachment, manoeuvring the hose into position above the
window while Min primed the generator to run the pump. The airship held water
both as ballast and for fire fighting. Most fire fighting happened during
animal rescue in the wild. Ektek was capable of hosing down a pathway for
creatures caught in fire devastation. However, they werenÕt used to such
delicate operations as putting out office fires in the middle of a city.
Min monitored the water pressure and flow control feeds.
Water ran from the ballast containers in the airship, through the tankÕs pump and out to the end of the cherry picker. Zip
could then guide the hose into the building and down to the fire-front. They
had established Hod had thrown his lit match into a rubbish bin filled with
screwed-up paper. It was now well ablaze and the heat was spreading.
Min raced back to the generator and switched on the pump.
Water stiffened the hose as it flowed down to the building. Zip struggled with
it, trying to direct water onto the fire. She raced back up the hosepipe to
shout at Min—YouÕve got to get down
here. I canÕt hold it much longer.
Min yelled back—Hang
on, IÕll try to come in closer.
—Can you
cut down the volume of water?
—IÕll try.
Zip struggled to keep the hose pointing at the rubbish bin.
The fire seemed to be taking hold. A desk next to the bin had caught alight.
The smoke was getting thicker and darker. The two small creatures were fighting
a losing battle. And they knew it.
III
In the airship cockpit, Hod continued to argue with
Helmut—Let it burn! We can never
make a difference if weÕre always just creeping around the edges, taking neat
little measurements and tidy little observations!
—I donÕt
think you have any understanding as to what Ektek does. Do you? Ektek is about
communication, pure and simple, and we donÕt need to be discovered as a group
of idiot terrorists. We canÕt afford to lose the support base we do have and we
canÕt afford to endanger any more lives. Get down there and help them get that
fire out, for ZedÕs sake!
IV
Min gingerly manipulated the controls to angle the cherry
pickerÕs cage towards the window. There was a safety bracket she imagined she
might be able to clip around the hose at the end of the cherry picker. She
stretched out to assist Zip but could not reach—Push it towards me, Zip! See if you can get it into that bracket ...
Zip backed towards the window. She tried in vain to get the
hose back up to the cherry picker but it was just too heavy for her. She could
feel herself weakening but she struggled on, trying to find the strength. She
let herself relax, trying to build up for a forceful shove. She counted herself
in. One, two, three and heaved with all her mightÉ
The hose refused to lock into the bracket. She almost wept.
The fire seemed to be an angry beast, much worse than an attacking komodo. It
had come to life and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
V
Up on the bridge, Hod shoved Helmut aside. Helmut stumbled
and Hod pushed himself into HelmutÕs place at the control panel of the airship.
Without warning, Hod pressed a red handle forwards, hoping to achieve something
– only he knew what. The airship lurched violently as it fought against
the anchor of hose and tank and began to rise into the air.
—You fool! You
stupid fool! Helmut braced himself against the window of the airship and
barely managed to stay on his feet—Put
it down! Put it down!
Hod, however, lost his footing and fell over. Helmut made
his way to the control panel as the floor tilted—You could kill someone!
Hod slid to the other side of the bridge and smacked into
the wall. Helmut fought with the controls, attempting to land the airship and
restore balance to the craft—What
are you thinking?
Right then, nothing. Hod had lost consciousness. He lay
still.
VI
The jolt shook the tank on the roof, jerking the hose out of
the airship. Water sprayed out of the hose in a spectacular arc as it fell. The
hose attachment flew down past the cherry picker cage and crashed into the side
of the building.
The impact catapulted Min off the hose. She plummeted
silently, flailing her tiny limbs, her long tail sailing out behind her as she
fell.
She fell like a rhinoceros.
Zip heaved herself out of the window above with a massive
effort, leaving the rapidly emptying hose dangling and flew straight down after
Min. The airshipÕs sudden movement had wrenched the connection to the ballast
tanks free. The water gushed out of a hole in the ballast of the airship,
splattered uselessly onto the roof and trickled down to the car park.
Zip swooped and caught Min onto her back less than a metre
from the ground. She did not land but swerved straight back up into the air.
Min clung to ZipÕs bare back and looked down.
—Sometimes,
donÕt you wish youÕd been born a sugar glider? shouted
Zip as she flapped upwards in the air.
—Recently,
said Min—All the time. She
buried her face in ZipÕs fruit bat bare back and wished sheÕd never been born
at all.
An alarm rang from the ballast area in the airship, clashing
horribly with the Firetek siren shrieking in the bridge. Back at the controls,
Helmut turned off both the alarm and the siren and attempted to restabilise the
now light-headed airship. He shouted to Hod who had woken and was standing
staring out of the window at the roof—Can
you see them?
—No. I
canÕt. In the jagged silence Hod leaned
to the windows and looked out at the tank—What have we done?
—We? said Helmut—You, Hod. It was just you.
The noise of a helicopter came closer and closer to the
window. Hod and Helmut both stepped away from the glass. It was ZipÕs wings beating
that extraordinary sound as she flew up to stare into the windows of the
airship. As she hovered outside, Min still clinging to her back, Zip kicked the
windscreen hard, making both Hod and Helmut jump.
Through the window, Hod signalled it was all
his fault. He shouted—Really
sorry, man. I never meant anyone to get hurt, eh.
Zip snarled back, saying something unflattering and
unprintable that Hod luckily could not hear. He understood her meaning clear
enough, though. She shrugged and turned, with Min on her back, to dive down to
the tank. Zip and Min reached the cherry picker extension just in time to see
the buildingÕs automatic sprinkler system turn on and begin to spray everywhere
in neat rows of water daisies.
—About time,
said Zip.
Min said nothing, still clinging wide-eyed to ZipÕs back.
They watched the spray slowly dampen down the fire.
VII
Hod turned to Helmut—Is there anything I can do?
—Get down
there and help them, Helmut
grunted—And make her fast. Helmut
had his own work cut out trying to keep the bulky airship steady. The
unbalanced ship was now more difficult to manoeuvre than it had ever been.
Hod rubbed his head with his yellow paws and went down to
face the team.
VIII
Min and Zip hauled the hose up to the roof of the building.
Hod clambered down the airship ramp to the rooftop—Hey, you guys, I am really sorry É
Shoulder to shoulder, working silently and very tired, Min
and Zip had no spare chit-chat for the creature who
had almost turned Min into Leadbeater possum street pizza. Min was still in
shock and Zip couldnÕt trust herself to speak.
Hod watched them both for a moment or two, understanding and
ashamed. Then he quietly went to tie the ropes back on to the lift well steps.
They hit the automatic rewind to get the hose back into the tank, an arduous
job as the hose was wet and dirty.
—Look at the
muck weÕre leaving, said Min.
Zip said—Do you
think theyÕll notice?
—What? said Hod.
—Oh, youÕre
right, said Zip—No one will
notice a thing.
—Some
covert operation, said Min.
It was almost funny but for everyoneÕs heavy heart. Between
the three of them they managed to get the tank ready to winch back into the
airshipÕs hold. Hod signalled to Helmut to start the crane system and the tank
was cranked back with Hod checking the lines as it went.
Zip and Min climbed back down to the Really Free Wildlife
Company office through the window, thinking they might be able to put the place
back into some sort of order. It was hopeless. It stank. There was water and
smoke damage everywhere. The sprinkler system was sputtering and spurting
unevenly in haphazard directions. Zip picked up a fallen half-burnt chair. Min
pushed in a drawer. Zip shuffled through some sodden papers but anything they
could attempt would have little effect on the chaos.
—Min! Zip! Hey! HodÕs
voice shouted down from the roof—Time
to go. CarÕs back.
—Quick, said
Zip as she grabbed some CD roms to take with her. Min picked up a couple of
brochures about the Virtual Zoo and they got away.
IX
As soon as Zip and Min appeared on board the airship, Helmut
commenced take off formalities—Uptek
taking off. Prepare for all occurrences.
—All clear
above and astern. Standing by booster pumps,
said Min.
—Standing by
jettison pipes, said Zip.
—Throttles? asked Helmut.
—Primed and set
to maximum, replied Min.
Helmut pushed forward on the throttle. The airship slowly
rose. They could hear water raining out onto the roof as the airship lifted
what remained of the ballast tanks.
They floated above the car park to see the researcher
walking into the building. Just as he was about to enter the foyer a shadow
passed over his head and he looked up.
The animals on board the airship argued about it. Did he see
the Bedlam Zoo airship puttering out of sight? There was nothing to be done.
Chapter Nine
—Looks like you
were right, Zip. They want to replace all endangered species with holograms and
the real animals are to be taken off public display, said Antenna as she
dropped a CD rom onto a pile of Really Free Wildlife Company brochures with a
clatter—And set free.
—Set free? asked Min.
—Yup. Released back into the wild, in the interests of
conservation. So they say.
Back in the dimly lit garage, Ektek had gathered to debate
the findings from their latest flawed action.
—Conservation,
said Hod—ThatÕs rich.
Torque and Spark, the security beetles,
were posted by the door—Hologram? whispered Spark—WhatÕs a hologram?
—Sort of a 3D photograph movie lightshow thing. A projection.
Electronic stuff.
—WhatÕs
the good of that?
—Ssssh, said Torque—Listen
and you might learn something.
—ItÕs
bizarre, said Zip—Wonderful but bizarre all the same. She
picked up a poster featuring her very own cheerful self and grinned as she held
it up to her face.
—Too good to be
true, said Hod. He flicked through a brochure extolling the virtues of an
electronic LeadbeaterÕs possum (solar panels optional).
—But why are we
to be taken off display? asked Min.
—Yeah,
arenÕt they killing the geese that laid the golden eggs? said Zip.
—Putting the
so-called main environmental reason for zoos to exist out of sight and out of
mind, do you mean? said Helmut.
—Departmentally
approved, said Antenna.
—Out to some
dark weedy pasture, said Hod—Where
no one will notice us disappearing.
—WeÕll
probably have to breed more, said
Zip.
—No. ThatÕs not
it, said Antenna—They want to
release us into suitable fenced reserves in our own habitats. Really. We donÕt
have to breed. We donÕt have to do anything. ItÕs like weÕre being let off
early for good behaviour.
—Darn. IÕd
like to get some good breeding in, Zip
smiled at her friends and they knew she was only half joking.
—Is there any independent
review on the internet? said
Helmut—Any published papers or
commentary?
—ThereÕs
an article on the web about their attempts to train animals for future freedom.
—Who wrote
the article? said
Helmut.
—No way of
knowing their connections. Can I suggest requesting a report from the beetle
surveillance team at Really Free Wildlife Company office immediately?
Torque and Spark both snapped to attention the moment the
word beetle was spoken. Torque said—IÕll get on to that right away, Antenna. Right away.
—Thanks,
Torque.
Torque turned to Spark—Off you go.
—Me? Spark couldnÕt have been more surprised.
—Yes, you. Go on, get going. Organise a relay
team and get them over to the Really Free Wildlife Company pronto. We need to
know whatÕs going on and we need to know now. What are you waiting for? Get on
with it.
With excitement polishing his elytra, Spark vanished down
the corridor. This was real responsibility. He was up to it. He could do it.
HeÕd show them.
Torque shook his head but stayed where he was by the door.
It was always tricky letting the babies work on their own but he had to trust
them sooner or later. He thought Spark might make something of himself in the
security field; after just a bit more training.
Back at the Ektek meeting, Min remained unconvinced—If they think live crickets and male bat
impersonations in ZipÕs enclosure were life experience then someoneÕs got a lot
of explaining ahead of them.
—ThereÕll
be plenty more to come, IÕm sure, said
Antenna—TheyÕll teach survival
skills, you know, like training you to be afraid of predators. When theyÕre
schooling numbats, the release team instruct the young ones to be frightened of
the shape of hawks and eagles so that kittens run away when they see a bird of
prey.
—As far as
I understand it, said Helmut—ThereÕs no point in having the last of any
species languishing in prison – they might as well go back to wilderness
parks and see if we can find a way to survive without human intervention. Is
that it, do you think? I must say, I find it hard to believe they mean what
they say.
—Maybe
teach those scientists a thing or two, you know? said Zip.
—As if they care
about individual animals! said Hod.
—Come on, Hod.
You know there are some humans who are animals. They care, said
Antenna—And yes, Helmut. It looks
like those guys mean what they say.
—Preposterous. Hod threw back his head and laughed—No food bills. No vet bills. LetÕs save
money and let them all die quicker so we donÕt have to worry about the poor
little endangered creatures any more. TheyÕll just write sad books with nice
photos about what used to be. Are those our best interests?
—Does it
matter, Hod? Zip fluffed her fur
and wriggled her shoulders in irritation—The fact remains, theyÕre going to free us! TheyÕve already taped Min
and me. WeÕll go first for sure. WeÕre going to be free! YouÕre just jealous.
—YouÕll be
laughing all the way to the mountains, Antenna said to Min. Min couldnÕt quite bring herself to be
excited. The loss of Rawlinson and Wilkinson still weighed heavy. She couldnÕt see
any joy in running around a forest alone.
—How will we
know whoÕs to be released first? said
Zip.
—TheyÕll
choose, said Antenna—According to their market research.
—We could,
of course, make their decision for them, Helmut
said—Electronically.
—It should
be you, Antenna, said Min—You never think about yourself. You deserve
freedom.
—Min! I do
so think about myself! All the time! And I havenÕt even been filmed yet. So
itÕs got to be one of you.
—You donÕt
know that. They might have hidden cameras. I bet theyÕve got footage of every
threatened creature in this zoo.
Zip agreed with Antenna—This should be for you, Min. YouÕve been
through too much. You deserve to hear the wind through the ash trees before you
die.
—IÕll hack
into their system straight after the meeting,
said Antenna—Now. Hod.
—Yes?
—Let it be
understood that Ektek are not in the business of setting fires. Ektek does not
damage property. Ektek does not put team members in direct danger. Let it be
understood that, at this meeting, there is formal disapproval of your
behaviour.
Hod tipped his head slightly and pursed his lips. It was a
bad pose and Antenna knew it. It was a mockery of polite concern. It appeared
that Hod could not have cared less what she said.
—Oh, come on.
ItÕs got to be more than that. He should be banished! said
Zip.
Antenna was astonished. She shot Zip
a startled glance. Banishing was a bit much, wasnÕt it?
—We can only
hope you havenÕt endangered our chance of release, said Helmut—Any of our chances.
—ThatÕd be
ironic, wouldnÕt it. Endangering your chances.
Endangered ones.
—Hod!
—Oh,
listen. My actions were completely justified, eh!
—Whoa! How
do you reckon that? said
Zip.
—If that company
wanted to free us for the sake of our health and happiness, they could have
done it long before now. Ask yourself. Why not? ItÕs got to be about profit.
Somewhere some greedy entrepreneur is going to make money or it wouldnÕt be a
company and it wouldnÕt be happening. As usual. Can
you really believe this is about fancy ideals and rights of nature to exist?
—What was
going through your mind when you tried to lift off from the rooftop? said Zip—Anything?
Hod looked up to the ceiling, littered with blue glow-worm
stars like neon full stops—IÕm
sorry about that. I didnÕt mean to. I wanted to É
—Whatever
you were thinking, the effect was to immediately endanger Min and Zip. They
could have died, said Helmut—That behaviour, in the face of your extreme
actions only two days ago in the restaurant, is inexcusable. You have broken
the basic tenet of non-violence. It is bad enough youÕve been careless and
thoughtless but itÕs far worse, isnÕt it. YouÕve been deliberate and devious.
You had destructive intentions even as we planned the action. You have gone too
far.
—Oh, yeah?
—Yes, Hod.
Please, donÕt be flippant. Where do you stand with Ektek? You must decide. Then
Ektek will decide what is to be done about you.
Hod glared at Helmut then stared angrily around the circle:
a beetle, a cassowary, a numbat, a bare-backed fruit
bat and a possum. Creatures he had known all his life. His friends. Then he
said—You want to lie down and die?
Just accept it? Oblivion? Oh, good. Well done. That seems optimal to me.
—You canÕt
do it by yourself, Hod, said Helmut.
—Look at Min.
Look at her family. SheÕs the endling. The very last of her
kind. What does that mean to you?
—Hod, said Antenna—Leave
her alone.
—Her life
doesnÕt just mean her as an individual. It means extinction for her whole
species. Extinction. Do you know what that means?
—Of course
we do, Hod, said Antenna—Now is not the time É
—The end
of her genetic code; the destruction of one of ZedÕs weird little creatures.
Unless theyÕve got one in a jar in a lab somewhere and some helpful scientist
decides to bring them back and stick them in a zoo!
—Hod, said Antenna—Shut
up! She turned away from him, helpless because of the tears welling up in
her eyes.
—Look at us. All of us. WeÕre all facing annihilation. The end. Finito.
There is no coming back from extinction.
—We know,
Hod, said Helmut.
—DonÕt you think
weÕve got to help ourselves? When? When do we fight back? When weÕre dead?
Zip felt herself swelling with fury. She jumped up and flew
at the wallaby, pushing him in the chest with her feet, and shouting—Shut up! Shut up! You stupid wallaby,
carrying round a dumb shoulder bag because you donÕt have a pouch. Should have
been born a girl, then you might have been worth something!
—Zip! said Helmut. He ran to help her as
she flapped backwards, almost fell and tried to regain her footing. Antenna
turned to join them and they settled again, watching Hod warily. The emotional
vibration in the cave was intense and the creatures breathed heavily, looking
to each other, wondering where they could go from here.
Min sighed, breathed in to give herself strength and then
stood. She looked up at Hod and everyone strained forward in the blue shadows
to hear what she had to say—I wish
I wasnÕt the only known LeadbeaterÕs possum left. Of course I do. I wish my
family could have survived. But, in the end, what difference will it make? ItÕs
not like there arenÕt plenty of strange little animals left. There are. Heaps.
Most humans canÕt tell us apart anyway. We could be rattus rattus to most of
them.
—No
offence to the rats, said Zip.
—No, no, of
course not. But what else can we do? We have to keep going, as best we can.
Death comes to us all. We know that. ThatÕs why weÕre all mortals. In the end
it doesn't matter if we're part of a species or not. We're just individuals
breathing in and breathing out. Then Min sat down again. The other animals
regrouped and felt calmer then, even though no decision had been made. Min had
given them a way forward without an answer.
—Hod. Are you
Ektek? When Hod did not reply, Antenna continued—We have to find a different way. We canÕt stoop to their level.
—No one
was hurt. Hod was sullen.
—But they could
have been, said Antenna—Not
just human bystanders but your own squad. If you were in our place, would you
trust you?
—We all
got home in one piece. Nothing happened.
—You
caused considerable property damage. How do you imagine that company will
react?
Hod stretched up to his full wallaby height and looked at
everyone in the small circle before he spoke—When all comes to all, I am Ektek. I do believe animals have a right to
roam in safety across the world. I am prepared to die to bring the actions of
the unscrupulous to the attentions of the media. Okay, sometimes I get
impatient and I want to take a few of them with me. I have to work on that. But
I am Ektek. Believe me. You can trust me.
Just then, Spark arrived at the entrance to the cave and
peeked around the corner. Torque stopped him from coming in with a wave of his
darkling antenna. Spark waited while the Ektek animals struggled to accept
HodÕs regret.
—Is that an
apology? Zip asked Antenna.
—Look, IÕm
trying, eh.
—Who here is
perfect? asked Helmut.
—Hod. This has
to be your last warning. The next time you go out on your own, even think about
taking a shortcut from EktekÕs main path, then you will no longer be able to
call yourself Ektek, said Antenna and then she whispered—And youÕll have to leave.
—This has
never happened before, Hod, said
Helmut—YouÕre the first Ektek
member who has required discipline. Is that how you want to be remembered?
—Please,
Hod, said Min—We don't want you to go.
At the doorway, Torque had been waiting for a pause in the
furore before sending Spark in. He judged there was enough calm – maybe
it was the eye of the storm, maybe the end – to let him go.
—Now? Spark
still hung back reluctantly.
—When were you
thinking? whispered Torque—Sometime next week? Yes. Now. Go.
Spark crept into the cave and went directly to Antenna. When
he had attracted her attention he said—The beetle surveillance team have reported.
—Yes?
—From the
Really Free Wildlife Company.
—Oh, of
course. Here. Tell everyone. Climb up on the panel. Go ahead.
—What? Me?
—Yes, you.
HavenÕt got time to waste repeating information. Speak.
Spark flew up to the control desk and looked nervously
around at the gathered animals. He looked back to Torque who nodded sternly.
Then Spark took in a deep breath—Um,
excuse me, everyone É
—You all
know Spark, said Antenna, by way
of introduction. She nodded encouragingly at him.
—Yes. They
looked expectantly at the young beetle. Spark gulped—Um. WellÉ
—YouÕve
heard back from the surveillance teamÉ Antenna
prompted.
—Go
ahead, Spark, said Zip.
—Speak up, grub,
shouted Torque from the entrance—Get
on with it!
—Right, said
Spark—The Virtual Zoo team is
worried. The translators say theyÕre using words like sabotage and espionage.
—Have they
connected the zoo to the fire?
—No, they
have no idea what caused it but theyÕre talking about moving their plans
forward. The Really Free Wildlife Company are going to stage two. Immediately.
—WhatÕs
stage two?
Spark didnÕt have an answer to that. All the Ektek animals
looked at each other.
—Better get
moving then, said Antenna.
—Free at last, said
Zip.
Chapter Ten
On the banks of a muddy river, Bash and Crawf sheltered from
the sun under the curving shadow of the wingship. The craft had been dropped by
the crocs just where Shining Teeth had stopped them. It was mostly out of the
water but could not possibly take off from that difficult angle. The two Ektek
representatives were, literally, stuck in the mud, trapped at the behest of
five of the meanest creatures theyÕd ever met.
In the shade, Crawf was colourless. His headdress feathers
were flat against his head and his cheek patches were pale, almost white. He
was listless, leaning his mud-stained head against the wheel of the plane.
—I donÕt get
these crocs, said Bash—Why
havenÕt they killed us? HeÕd found his way into a puddle where the wing met
the river and soaked his thin skin with relief—What are they waiting for? What do you reckon? Are they going to? When?
Is this some kind of torture? Waiting? Crawf? What can we do? Are we just going
to sit here, all day? For how long? How many days?
Crawf was in no hurry to answer these questions because, as
far as he was concerned, there were no answers. He had
troubles of his own to ponder. After a time he groaned and said—IÕve got to get back. SheÕll never forgive
me this time. ItÕs been too long.
—SheÕll
understand, said Bash—SheÕll be glad to see you back when she
knows É
—DonÕt
think so, not any more.
—SheÕs
your partner. Of course she wants you back.
—IÕm no
good for her.
—Of course
you are.
—She needs
someone who can give her live eggs. And IÕm never there.
—ThatÕs
not your fault.
—IsnÕt it?
—You work
for Ektek. SheÕs got to understand that.
—She
doesnÕt. She doesnÕt at all. All she wants is a baby. And I canÕt give it to
her. SheÕd be better off if the crocs did eat me. Then sheÕd get a new mate.
Have a better chance.
—You donÕt
reckon the vets would have worked this out?
—I donÕt
know. WeÕve both been tested. DonÕt know what theyÕre waiting for. If I were them I would have cleared me long ago.
Both frog and palm cockatoo watched the crocs, sunning
themselves on the mud bank as the river trundled along in its muddy way. They
both knew that even though the crocs appeared to be asleep, they could wake at
the blink of a little frogÕs eye or the flick of a little palm cockatoo feather
and, quick as a flash, have their little legs off.
—If they were
going to let us go, then why donÕt they? Are they going to knock us off, or are
we going free? TheyÕd get a decent feed out of you, at least.
—Shut up,
Bash.
—Seriously.
WeÕve got a chance. We must do. I reckon we should É
—Hullo? Do
you hear that?
It appeared the crocodiles had. They came to life, twisting
and turning over one another to face the opposite bank. There was noise
approaching. More than mere noise, it was vibration, almost thundering, through
the ground. There was smell, too, of farmyard and ordure and there, in the air,
was a melodic kind of low horn or hooting. Mooing.
Bash jumped up onto CrawfÕs lap, or where he would have had
a lap if a palm cockatoo had one, and said—Is it an earthquake?
Suddenly, a crowd of black-and-white bovines splashed over
the hill to the riverÕs edge and lowered their heads into the water.
—What the
hell?
Their hooves sank into the mud as they tried to vacuum some
drink into their hairy cow gobs. The crocodiles were alert now and on the move.
Asunder and Grater looked at each other and slid into
the water in unison. Before she too went into the drink, Shining Teeth glanced
over at the crazy tilted plane. She saw Crawf and Bash and said—Okay, you two. Go get Hardback. However you
can. I want him here. Unharmed. Or else.
She too, sank into the water then. Jata and Damura moved,
ready to follow but Bash yelled out as loud as he could—Hey! Can you give us a hand here?
Crawf muttered—They
donÕt have hands.
—You going to do
it by yourself, smarty? Bash glared at the bird—No? Well. We need the crocs. Bash shouted to the two crocs
again—You heard what she said. We
need to get out of here. Or else.
Jata and Damura looked at each other and over to the cows
clustering one by one at the opposite bank. Knowing Shining Teeth wouldnÕt have
much patience for their absence, the two crocs quickly took a wing each in
their jaws and straightened the plane. With a heave they moved the wingship to
higher, flatter ground, further away from the waterÕs edge and, without a word,
headed back into the river.
All five crocs disappeared into the increasing turbulence.
The cows suspected nothing as they meandered into the water and innocently
chewed their cuds, sucked up drink and lifted their tails to shit with flood
bursts of manure.
CrawfÕs hair feathers flipped upwards and he flew through
the window and onto the pilotÕs perch as quickly as he could. A slight blush of
pink flooded his face patches. He immediately examined the instrument panel and
flicked some switches. They would have to get by without a full pre-flight. He
needed to get out of there as fast as he could—Come on, Zed, help us out here É
Bash, too, had leapt into the cockpit as quickly as
possible. From this relative safety he stared out the window at the milling
cattle—Should we tell them?
—Cows?
—Yeah.
Warn Ôem.
Crawf was busy trying to get the engines going. The sparks
were firing but nothing was catching. Had water got into the electrics when the
crocs dragged them back down to earth? He dismissed the frogÕs concerns—Bash. TheyÕre cows. ArenÕt you more
interested in knowing if we can get into the air?
—But
theyÕre going to get eaten.
—Hullo?
Beef? ThatÕs what theyÕre for? TheyÕre going to get eaten by someone, sooner or
later É
—Yeah, but
not like É
—Just
like.
Apparently the five crocs had managed to get themselves into
an attack formation for, without any kind of visible signal, two crocs leapt straight
out of the water, baring their yellow fangs at the throat of a calf. Almost at
the same time, the other three had surrounded an elderly cow that had wandered
too far and was now stuck in the mud. There was panic among the cows.
The water boiled with roars and bellows. Eyes rolled in
horror and legs flashed into lacey waves of coffee-coloured water. The calf
sank to its knees, dissolved into its terror and disappeared into the muddy
froth while the older cow struggled with the slashing jaws of her predator and
gaping fear.
Finally the wingshipÕs engines fired, sputtered and then
roared when Crawf revved the engines. It would have been impossible to hear the
gunning aircraft over the still agonising bawling and pounding of hooves.
Quickly they ascertained that most instruments were working and Crawf set the
vehicle to drive along the riverÕs edge before lifting into the air. Soon they
were hovering over the dust that covered the patchwork of stampede down below.
The howls faded under the buzz of the engine. Feeling the safety that being
airborne provided, Bash looked down at the melee—What do you reckon about the crocs? Can we help them?
The river wound through the landscape like a curved knife in
the sun.
—Why not? said Crawf—LetÕs
take a little look at that Hardback before heading back to the zoo.
—Can we
keep him at a distance?
—Oh, yeah.
I'm a big advocate of the big far kind of distance that makes the heart grow
fonder.
Chapter Eleven
I
A good hour before normal opening time, the Really Free
Wildlife Company team arrived at Bedlam Zoo. The media entourage; the crews of
television outside-broadcast vans, radio presenters and photographers, all
grappled with gear and set up wiring, lights and shots. Zoo management ran their fingers through
their hair, bared their teeth, shook hands and squawked about the nature of
emancipation and sponsorships. Freedom: a word without boundaries É Freedom:
use it or lose it. Freedom: if you love someone, open the cage door É
II
Footage beamed into the control centre from the Ektek camera
mounted by the entrance. Antenna watched the crowd perform, dumbfounded. Spark
sat next to her and recounted information as it came in from the beetles
stationed all around the car park.
—ZooÕs preparing for a press conference. TheyÕre
going to officially hand Min over to the Really Free Wildlife Company, said
Spark.
III
Outside, members of the zoo staff were almost unrecognisable
in their best outfits. They puffed up as they went from mic to mic, camera to
camera, like pollinating bees. They spouted shiny phrases explaining that this
partnership with the Really Free Wildlife Company showed the zooÕs thinking was
truly progressive and the reporters lapped it up, relaying it all faithfully to
their public. This was more than lip service. This was evolution!
Representatives from the sporting company, Anything Goes,
the investment company, Future Building, and the confectionary corporation,
Sweet Life, were all there, shaking hands and expounding on the value of
freedom of choice.
IV
In the Ektek hangar, MinÕs friends had gathered to say
goodbye to her. She farewelled them each in turn, with her eyes brimming with
sadness.
—Perhaps, said
Helmut—You will be able to find
other LeadbeaterÕs possums where humans have failed?
—ThatÕs
right, said Zip—Everyone knows fairy possums are shy and
elusive.
—Humans
assumed LeadbeaterÕs possums were extinct once before, said Helmut—Erroneously.
—They
assumed fairies were extinct, too, said
Zip—And that's true. Fairies
actually are extinct, so thatÕs more than an assumption, isnÕt it.
When Min got to Hod they stood nose to nose, mingling their
breath and concentrating on each other in a deep slice of time. Hod opened his
eyes first and said very quietly—Goodbye,
Min. IÕll miss you.
MinÕs dark eyes filled with tears and she nodded, unable to
speak for the moment, and turned lastly to Antenna. They embraced and Min tried
valiantly to laugh—DonÕt go eating
any ants, she whispered and the tears overflowed and began to roll down her
fur.
Antenna attempted to put on a brave face and said—Min, are you sure about this? You could
reconsider. ItÕs not too late. What about Ektek? Did you ever think of staying
and being the controller? If you really wanted to, you could. You do know that,
donÕt you? Think about it. It must tempt you at least. Be honest É
—Antenna.
You are your fatherÕs daughter. Ektek trusts you. They need you. ItÕs time for
us both to grow up.
—Is it?
Bugger. Sorry I mentioned it.
They both tried to laugh but it was an effort—Watch out for low flying yellow-footed rock wallabies.
—None of
those where IÕm going.
—Lucky
you.
An eavesdropping wallaby heard no good of himself—Hey, watch it É
—Shut it,
Hoddy!
—Walk with
me. Antenna walked Min down the tunnel,
away from the rest of the group. Min made sure no one had followed them before she turned urgently to Antenna—I have to tell you. There hasnÕt been an
opportunity before now. ItÕs Helmut.
—Helmut?
—Min, interrupted
Manifold—You have to go.
—IÕm
going.
—Min? Tell
me. What about Helmut?
—When the
communications dropped out from the airship. It was him.
—What?
—It
affected him in some way. Like, he went off in his mind. I donÕt know, Anti, it
was like É You had to be there. Weird.
—His mind?
Helmut? What are you talking about? Why didnÕt you tell me?
—Min,
theyÕre looking for you.
—Okay,
Manifold. Sorry, Antenna. Look after Ektek. And Helmut.
—I will.
Cherish the freedom.
Min ran through the tunnel to her enclosure for the very
last time. Antenna watched her go, her heart heavy with what she perceived as
selfish emotion, her thoughts of loneliness without her best friend. Then,
exerting her self-discipline, she turned her thoughts to Helmut. How could he
be affecting the communication system? There couldnÕt be anything wrong with
him? Could there?
IV
Spark and Torque were also travelling on this day. The
security team left the safety of the Ektek garage to fly across the zoo. Once
in the car park, they clambered on board the Really Free Wildlife Company van
before it left. They carried a tiny radio system. They would file reports
whenever possible. Ektek wanted to know where Min was going to be set free. The
zoo might be keen to let her go but Ektek was a different matter. Ektek animals
stuck together.
V
Antenna and the others watched the television stream live on
the internet. Min was ceremoniously plucked from her
nest into the media limelight and celebrated, justly, as the first endangered
species to be liberated by the Really Free Wildlife Company.
The cameras whirred. The lights beamed her into another life
as she was packed lovingly into an elaborate carry case. Human legs marched
with her into the Really Free Wildlife Company van.
The van drove out of the Bedlam Zoo carpark. The sponsors
shook hands with the zoo staff. Very successful branding all round. Sensational
pictures. The television crews packed up their Outside Broadcast vans and the
radio people and the photographers zoomed away in their paparazzi style.
VI
Helmut, Zip, Hod and Antenna sat quietly in the control
room. They were overwhelmed as they watched the netcast. However much her heart
ached with MinÕs loss, Antenna still had enough analytical thought attuned to
consider EktekÕs future. She surreptitiously watched Helmut. He seemed tired
and bowed but he was still her teacher and her elder. She needed him to be
strong. What had Min said? His mind? Antenna watched him, wondering.
Then, surprising everyone, the radio blared into life and
BashÕs voice crashed through the stratosphere—Ektek? Can you hear me? Over.
There was a rousing chorus of replies as Antenna bent to the
mic—We sure can, Bash! Over.
—Welcome
back!
—Great to
hear from you!
—Hi, Bash.
Crawf there? Over.
—Yup, heÕs here, both safe. Over.
—Gidday,
Crawf!
Hod, Zip and Helmut continued to offer helpful comments in
the background while Antenna expressed their relief in re-establishing contact.
Then they got down to business and Antenna asked—WhatÕs with the croc? Over.
—WhatÕs
not with this croc! WeÕre on the move, following him. Over.
—HeÕs
still captive? Over.
—Certainly.
Dunno where theyÕre taking him. Seems to be heading
home. Got us puzzled, thatÕs for sure. Over.
—Give us a
yell when you get somewhere. Over.
—ThereÕs
one more thing you might be able to help us with. Over.
—Go ahead.
Over.
—They
washed him. Over.
—So? Over.
—In a
bubble bath. They cleaned his teeth and varnished his toenails. Over.
—WhatÕs
your thinking? Over.
—Some sort
of ritual? Only, we donÕt think itÕs a wedding. Over.
—HeÕs
already married? Over.
—Too
bloody right heÕs already married and you donÕt want to meet his wives. Ever.
Over.
—What
other rituals are there? Over.
—Think
about it. WeÕll let you know when we find out more. Over and
out.
Antenna closed the radio link and slowly looked up at
Helmut, Hod and Zip—Are you
thinking what IÕm thinking?
—You donÕt
want to know, said Zip.
—ThatÕs what I
was thinking, said Antenna
—You're
thinking, Hod agreed—ItÕs his
funeral?
Chapter Twelve
I
Together with Hod, Zip and Helmut, Antenna sat in the
control cave watching dining room footage streaming in from BashÕs miniscule
camera. They were waiting for Uptek to be refuelled before they could leave.
They were going to try to get Hardback out of Last Chance to Eat.
Zip and Helmut looked at each other before Helmut
said—How do we get the croc into
the airship?
—Can we
tow him in with the tank?
—HeÕs
going to have to want to go, Anti,
said Hod—We canÕt fight him.
—Oh, I
imagine heÕll want to go, donÕt you?
Antenna was setting up video links preparing to netcast whatever was going to
happen to Hardback—Given his
optionsÉ She found the relevant electronic address list of journalists,
lobby groups and politicians and typed in information regarding Last Chance to
Eat and their new swimming pool. Apparently the place had had to undergo
extensive renovations after the komodo dragon riot.
The affray had resulted in considerable publicity for the business and, of
course, any publicity is good publicity. Last Chance to Eat could command high
prices for todayÕs crocodile event, whatever shape that might take. She clicked
the video into the frame inset in the webpage and set the instructions to
broadcast. She looked up at her team and added—WouldnÕt you?
II
Bash had bumped in all his gear to Last Chance to Eat and
was now broadcasting his footage comfortably from the restaurant dining room.
The tiny yellow and black patterned frog hid in a tower of bamboo, ginger
flowers, birds of paradise and rare wild orchids. He settled back into a bloom,
secure in the knowledge that no one could possibly notice him in the garish
floral decoration and then panned smoothly around the room.
Crawf waited on the roof of the eatery. The wingship relayed
BashÕs footage data to the satellite and thence to Ektek headquarters where the
team watched. Everything was in place, all systems checked and working well.
The waiters opened the front doors and the early diners
hullabalooed into the foyer. All became excitement and greeting of stylish folk
ˆ la mode: muted champagne pops, lounge music from a louche band and twinkles
from designer frocks.
III
Antenna could see it all. The footage was coming in clear as
a bellbird into the control computer monitors. Then Antenna heard a whirring
sound over the hectic babble of the restaurant patrons. It was the familiar
sound of beetle wings. She looked up from her typing just in time to see Spark
and Torque fly past the frame.
Bash said—What
are you doing here?
—DidnÕt
get as far as any highlands,
said Spark, referring to their journey in the van that had carried Min from the
zoo.
Torque stared down the barrel of the camera, looking as
serious as a beetle could, and spoke directly to Antenna—This ÔinÕt that bloominÕ komodo cafŽ, is it?
When Antenna gasped, Hod, Zip and Helmut all focussed on the
screen, straining forward to get a better view. Antenna turned on the mic and
spoke—WhatÕs Spark doing there? And
Torque? They shouldnÕt be in there! MinÕs one of the most highly profiled
threatened creatures in the world! SheÕd be worth a fortune on a plate! Over.
Bash couldnÕt explain it—SheÕs been brought in. ThatÕs all they know. Over.
—Get her
out. Over.
—WeÕre not
exactly sure where she is. Over.
—Find her.
Go. Go! Go!!! Over and out!
Spark and Torque immediately flew off and crashed, smack,
into each other. After theyÕd regained their senses they pulled themselves
together and started out again in different directions.
Their audience, back in the control cave, silently willed
them on. The feeling of urgency was palpable. The pace quickened. Everyone
changed gear and started to think very quickly. This was not how Ektek had
imagined MinÕs freedom. Antenna spun to face Hod—WeÕve got to get her out.
Zip said—What can we do?
Antenna frowned—WhereÕs
Crawf?
—Is Uptek
ready? asked
Helmut.
—IÕll call
Manifold, said Zip and she ran out to find the head of mechanics.
Antenna changed the radio frequency channel—Crawf? Come in, please. Over.
—Uptek 2.
Over.
—Crawf.
TheyÕve taken Min to the restaurant. WeÕve got to get her out. Now. Where
exactly are you? Over.
—In position
on the roof, by the stairwell. Over.
—Have you
got vision? Over.
—BashÕs
got the only camera here. Over.
—Forgot. The fishing nets. Right. Any ideas? How weÕre going to get
Min and the croc out? Over.
—I canÕt
carry the croc. Over.
—No, weÕre
getting the airship ready for him. Over.
—Do you
have time? Over.
There was a pause. Reality sank in, cold, hard, horrible
reality. What if they didnÕt get Min out in time? What if Hardback was to be
killed today? What if MinÉ? Antenna stared in turn at Hod and finally at
Helmut—How much time do we need?
Helmut answered—How
much do we have?
Antenna spoke again into the mic—WeÕll make time. Over.
No one knew the answer and no one wanted to guess.
The screens showed BashÕs footage as he continued to pan
around the rapidly filling dining room. The lighting was dim but focussed
magically on a huge tree to one side of the room. The upper branches were on a
level with people dining. The trunk and root system appeared to go down into
the depths of the building. It was a mountain ash.
When the overhead lights lowered, each table glowed faintly
with a candle in a holder, cut in the shape of gum leaves. Mottled forest leaf
shadows were thrown over the gloomy walls and ceiling. Aroma burners cast a
eucalyptus tinge into the air.
It was dusk in the Australian bush at the Last Chance to Eat
theatre restaurant. Only, Antenna hoped without hope, it wasnÕt Nemesis Night
again. Was it? She found herself muttering—Please say itÕs not Nemesis Night. ItÕs not Nemesis Night. It just
canÕt be.
Hod and Helmut didnÕt know what to say. Both had the
disgusting feeling it very probably was Nemesis Night and that didnÕt bode well
for Min at all. Zip and Manifold came into the control cave, alerted by
AntennaÕs urgent tones. Zip stood by AntennaÕs shoulders—The airship is ready for departure as soon
as you say the word.
—Good. Get
going.
—ThatÕs
it, said Hod, appealing to Helmut—She said the word.
—HodÕs
staying here, said Zip.
—I canÕt
stay here. I have to help. I can help. I can speak crocodile.
—Helmut?
Up to you?
—Oh, come
on.
—Zip,
weÕve got to work together here,
said Antenna—WeÕve got to get both
of them out. TheyÕre going to die. They will get cooked. ThereÕs no time to
argue. WeÕre Ektek. Like it or lump it, get going and get Min.
Helmut didnÕt need to hear any more. He ran to the cave entrance
and shouted over his shoulder as he went—Zip. Manifold. Uptek, now. And Hod. Get
moving.
—Thanks,
Helmut. Thanks, Antenna, said Hod,
pausing.
—Go! said Antenna.
Hod followed Zip and Manifold as they ran out. Antenna
couldnÕt help herself. As he went past she said—Hod?
—Yup?
—I swear,
if you do anything É
—ItÕs
okay, man É
—DonÕt you
dare call me ÔmanÕ!
After they had run out, Antenna sat up even straighter, even
more nervous, as she stared at BashÕs shaky footage—Hang on, Min. WeÕre coming É
IV
Back in the fevered restaurant, Bash focussed on the Really
Free Wildlife CompanyÕs film crew. They had turned on a large, expensive, retro
looking camera and concentrated on their work. The music faded to an end,
slowly quieting an audience of diners, waiters and even the chefs and kitchen
hands who had come out into the restaurant auditorium to watch.
Watch what?
The yellow cone of a spotlight etched through the smoke to
pick out a trumpet player wearing a spangly dress. She lifted her yellow
instrument to her painted red lips and musically raised the roof. A blare of
brassy fanfare and then a human voice over the public address system brayed
some announcement. Then, at the height of the fanfare, the researcher from the
Really Free Wildlife Company entered the room with an ornate carrier bag. He
ceremoniously opened it to reveal a perfect example of the State faunal emblem:
the LeadbeaterÕs possum.
The spotlight found Min. The last known fairy possum in the
world looked frozen, her huge dark eyes were pools of fear and her long tail
hung limply beside the researcherÕs arm. The trumpeterÕs horn coruscated with
reflections of candle-light and then the soul-filled
melody soared above the forest shadows. The researcher placed Min into the
leafy arms of the mountain ash growing to the side of the dining room. The
trumpet ceased. There was an expectant silence.
Min stayed exactly where she had been put.
Initially.
In the control cave, Antenna shouted at the
screen—RUN!!
In the restaurant, the diners applauded, appreciatively.
Min shivered as she looked into the hungry eyes of the
audience. Then, she ran.
Only, where could she run to?
She ran along the branches looking for an escape. The way
down was deep and treacherous. The way out along the branches just leaned over
the diners. The diners with big shiny teeth smiled their big shiny grimaces and
applauded as she came nearer to their tables. The noise only sent her off to
another table and so each table across the room had a close-up experience of
her terror. The humans appeared to enjoy every moment.
V
Antenna looked up to find she was alone in the control cave.
She rubbed her eyes and spoke out loud—What can we do? How can we get her out of there? She got up onto
her four feet and paced around the cave. She was drawn inevitably back to the
screen. It was hard to see the dim picture while the restaurant was clearly
enjoying the nocturnal theme of their possum prowl.
Antenna turned the mic back on—WeÕve got to get her out, Bash. Over.
—I know. I
know. But how? Over.
—IÕm
working on it. Think of something. Over.
Antenna got up again, walked the floor again and came back
to her control desk once more. She tried not to look at the screen. What were
they going to do? What was Really Free Wildlife really all about? Antenna hit
the mic—Is Torque there? Over.
There was a pause before BashÕs camera swung around and
found Torque. His gravely voice said—Torque
here. What can I do, Antenna? Over.
—Could you
do it, Torque? Fly over there and guide her out? She could get out into the
tops of the leaves and Crawf could come in and fly her out, couldnÕt he? You
could help her. CouldnÕt you? Over.
There was another pause as Torque considered the idea and
then, strangely, Antenna heard the sound of laughter. Someone was laughing in
the dining room. Only, it wasnÕt a human laugh. It was an eerie laugh.
—What was that?
Over.
—We donÕt
know, replied Bash through the
speakers—SparkÕs over there with
Min right now. WeÕre stuck with a net below and there appears to be some kind
of plate plexiglass above the tree. ThereÕs ants tunnelling now but obviously
that depends on how long weÕre going to be here. Over.
—Just do
something, Torque. Get her up onto the roof. IÕll get on to Crawf and he can
pick her up. Over.
And then
there was that laugh again. The diners became silent, almost as if they were
waiting for it; a strange kind of laugh, like an eerie birdcall.
The audience gave a horrible echo of mirth, and then slowly
simmered down to wait again. The whole restaurant, staff and diners alike, were
holding their breath. Waiting for something.
The radio fizzed again, this time
it was Bash—Antenna? Have you seen
it? Over.
Antenna dragged her attention back to the pictures. BashÕs
camera was pointed up to the ceiling at the far end of the dining room. Dimly
she could see a flitter of movement at the top of the screen.
—Can you get in
closer? she said into the mic—Over.
The camera zoomed in slightly. The dark patch shifted and
Antenna looked straight into the eyes of an owl. She sat back slowly onto her
hindquarters, a cold menace dowsing her guts. She was well aware that owls were
the natural predators of LeadbeaterÕs possums in their mountain forest habitat.
She wondered what sort of owl would hunt a furry nibblet in a room full of
human beings waiting for the owl to do just what came naturally? WhatÕs the bet
that some of the humans even had money on the outcome? Perhaps theyÕd be
betting on the length of time it would take for the owl to get the possum.
Perhaps some of them were grasping stopwatches even as they watched, impatient
for the result. How many of those people really wanted that owl to go and get
AntennaÕs best friend right now?
—Get her out of
there! Antenna shouted to all radio frequencies—Torque! Spark! Go negotiate with the owl! Someone! Do something! Oh,
Min É
No one replied.
Antenna shuddered as she remembered that numbats are trained
to have a necessary response to any bird of prey. Run away! Hide! But Min
hadnÕt been trained. Min was a LeadbeaterÕs possum born in captivity. She knew
nothing of instinctual behaviour in the wild. Min was alone with her natural
predator in a crowded room. Surely someone ... ?
A clipped human voice sang out over the restaurant PA. The
voice dripped with sarcasm and venom. The Ektek creatures couldnÕt tell the
details of the words – creatures canÕt understand the curdled monotone of
human speech – but they knew it wasnÕt pleasant, all the animals
listening understood that. Not pleasant at all.
The human audience laughed. They laughed and clapped their
hands and Antenna held her head in her paws. The people simmered down until
they were quiet again. They were all watching and waiting. Waiting for their
bloodlust to be sated. Waiting for their humanity and their civilisation to
blossom into dominion over every living thing that moved upon the earth.
The owl laughed again.
Then it moved.
It moved so fast, Bash had trouble keeping it in frame as it
swooped across the dining room. It went straight to the mountain ash and
grabbed Min in its claws and it flew to the very top of the tree. Min was limp.
Perhaps sheÕd fainted.
The owl held Min in its foot. It looked around the room.
Then, with gusto, it bit her head off.
Chapter Thirteen
Slowly babble bubbled up from the audience seated at the
restaurant tables. The hubbub increased near the kitchen among the staff. The simmering volume amplified as
delight swelled. Oh, the ballooning glee of being in this particular restaurant
on Nemesis Night. A magnificence of triumph poured out of the voluble diners as
they gibbered excitedly at their tables. This was a night to remember. This
would be one to tell the grandchildren. There was no doubt this was why people
came again and again, at enormous cost, to Last Chance to Eat; oh, the
memories.
The sparkly trumpet player raised her horn again and blew to
the four corners of the world while she sashayed to the centre of the room.
Lights flashed on, revealing the superb new centrepiece of Last Chance to Eat,
a huge, Romanesque bath. The audience thrilled and applauded again.
There was a high fence around the pool made of heavy-duty
clear material, perhaps Perspex or even bulletproof glass. All the diners had a
good view of the proceedings and the glass would indeed need to be sturdy to
hold in the present occupant – Hardback, polished and shiny, visible in
about a metre of clean water.
The pool was strewn with flowers. It was tiled with detailed
mosaics depicting endangered wildlife; a blue whaleÕs tail dominated the bottom
of the pool. A rhino, a seal, a panda, an Iberian lynx and a bison rose along
the sides in precise detail. There, at the edge, frogs, lizards and turtles
scuttled towards various birds: albatross, egrets, storks and a large condor.
The big picture was superb.
Hardback lay in all this majesty, listless. His eyes were
glazed. Was he drugged or just despairing?
A fountain, in the shape of a thylacine, vomited water from
its mouth in the centre of the pool. Nearby, a chilling ice sculpture of a dodo
was melting under the lights.
The stunning trumpet player with red, red lips didnÕt even
stop playing as she stretched out her hand with red painted fingernails to the
dodoÕs beak. There, embedded in the ice, was a yellow card. The dazzling woman
wrenched the card from the ice, breaking off the dodoÕs head in the process.
Hilarity erupted through the audience as the ice clattered down the sculptural
plinth and splashed delicately into the pool. It just missed HardbackÕs nose.
The woman stopped playing to the gods, turned to the
audience, beamed her red, red grimace, looked at the yellow card and trilled to
the audience.
The spotlight snapped onto a balding, lardy man doing up his
tight jacket as he rose from his table. He put down his huge white napkin and
kissed his companion. The applause seemed to carry him, laughing, grinning and
waving, up to the stage. The man was overjoyed and appeared to be thanking the
trumpet player. She gave him a congratulatory kiss and guided him over to an
exercise bike. Antenna could easily understand his extravagant gestures as he
feigned outrage that he would have to work for his prize. The audience was
almost falling out of their seats with mirth. The man was a jolly good sport
and he hopped on to the cycle. Off he went, pedalling slowly at first, the
trumpet player apparently calling out instructions and even, cheeky minx,
theatrically patting his shiny head with a table napkin. All good clean fun.
As he cycled, the audience, including Antenna, became aware
there was a shot of light emanating from the base of the stationary bike. An
optic fibre thread carried the light, glittering through the branches of the
tree. As the man pedalled, the thread wound into a spool attached to the bike.
The illuminated thread became brighter and tighter and stretched, and the very
act of cycling became reeling something in.
The house lights began to rise until they revealed the
laughing owl sitting at the top of the tree, still chewing on a bloody rag of
brown grey fluff. The owl soon forgot any idea of laughing as the thread
tightened further. The owl was tethered by its ankle.
The owl looked up sharply and turned its head more than one
hundred and eighty degrees when it was tugged off the perch and dropped several
metres before it started flapping. The owl was flapping, flapping, flapping for
its life now. It rose on the glittering string, the audience hooted and the man
pedalled for all he was worth.
The trumpet player worked the audience, howling out,
encouraging the man to cycle slower, go faster, go backwards and the owl was
played out and flapped and flew and sank and was dragged according to the
pleasure of the crowd. Soon the owl flailed over the surface of the pool and
still the man pedalled, forwards and backwards and still the owl battled to get
away.
Hardback, floating just under the surface, saw the struggle.
His eyes locked on the hysterical movement. He could not know the tempting bird
was bait. All he knew was that he was hungry. He was untied, he was capable and
he was ready. He was half mad from capture and homesickness. He forgot all agreements
made in the wild that animals have made among themselves to protect endangered
species. He swirled quietly in the water and then shot up two metres into the
air to grab the bird, his monstrous jaws wide. His huge teeth cracked and the
bird disappeared leaving only a flutter of feathers drifting in the air ...
Antenna gasped as she watched the screens in the Ektek cave.
Her eyes were dry and her mouth was dry. She felt so brittle she thought she
might snap. Frustration, anger and sickness raged through her like electricity
but she couldnÕt stop watching as Hardback splashed back into the water.
In the restaurant, some of the closest diners were
splattered with wet and limp flower petals. They screeched with excitement and
wonder and turned to see what might happen next.
HardbackÕs leap gave him energy and he attempted to scrabble
out of the tank, his movements erratic as he grappled and scraped and slid down
the plate glass walls. Feathers continued to glide through the air, this way
and that, slowly joining the flowers floating on the surface of the pool.
The trumpet player, applauding heartily, went to the cyclist
and assisted him from the bike. She encouraged the audience to acknowledge his
sweaty efforts and he grinned endlessly in the heat of applause as he made his
way back to the table and sat down.
Two cherubic waiters with long blond curly hair, possibly
identical twins, made their lithe way over to the exercise bike and swiftly
unlocked the cable of optic fibres at the base.
The trumpet player went to one side of the pool and picked
up a long, bell shaped, fantastically decorated didgeridoo. She began to play,
softly, hardly moving her shoulders, as the wonders of circular breathing took
her over. The eerie vibrations filled the room.
One of the waiters went to the other side of the pool while
the other threw the spool of optic fibre high into the air and over a sturdy
beam. The first waiter caught it and placed it over a winch. Together, the
waiters quickly wound the cable in until it tightened in the throat of Hardback
and he began to rise in the water. Cleverly, the waiters managed to spin him in
such a way they wrapped more of the glittering cable around his neck. They hung
Hardback over the mosaic bath and he thrashed. He flung himself from side to
side in the pool, cracking against its hard walls and the audience laughed and
clapped to see his pathetic little feet clawing the air. He spun, helplessly.
Antenna imagined what the audience might have been thinking. Perhaps they were
measuring him up for handbags – no, shoes – no, belts – oh,
his skin was extensive and varied in texture. There would be plenty for any
kind of accessory.
Bash continued to record as Hardback in his turn, faced
death. A grand chef, wearing his distinctive passenger pigeon Last Chance to
Eat apron, checked white-and-black trousers and a high white hat, was suddenly
picked out of the crowd by the roaming spotlight.
Chef waved and smiled to his appreciative fans. The diners
drooled and clapped. He reached for his ceremonial taiaha, held high on a long
red velvet cushion by a charming young waitress. Chef lifted the ornately
carved Maori weapon, about his own height, gleaming in slender wood. He hefted
its weight, lifted its gentle balance over his head and showed it to the audience.
It was an object of supremacy.
Then, with extraordinary power, chef spun the taiaha around
him. Threatening, advancing, with such strength of intention the audience grew
cowed and was silenced.
Chef moved forward, surrounded by his aura, a whirlwind of
taiaha force, and suddenly struck. He drove the spearhead of the taiaha into
the pale thin throat of the crocodile and thrust, thrust hard and thrust again.
He let go and the handle of the taiaha smacked around, the blade still stuck in
Hardback, clattering the sides of the pool.
The waiters unlocked the capstan and the crocodile convulsed
back into the ornately tiled bath. The taiaha tilted and slid to the side of
the pool, pointing the bone at a mosaic white-headed langur like an awful game
of spin-the-bottle. The water slowly stained red. Hardback swayed slowly in the
moving stream and grew quiet.
A thunderstorm of applause erupted from the hungry audience.
What a prelude to a feast! What a show! What a chef! The chef bowed, grinning
and, as if by magic, plucked an owl feather, wafting down in front of him in
the air, to wear jauntily in his hair. It stuck out in the side of his chefÕs
hat like a warriorÕs memento.
In the Ektek control room, Antenna could no longer focus on
the screen before her. She lay down on her desk and cracked open. Acrid tears
rolled down her face. She sobbed as if she would never stop.
Chapter Fourteen
Hod was the first one out of the airship. He bounded down
the tunnel from the garage to the control room as if he would fly. He was
panting when he checked in at the computer area. Initially he couldnÕt see
anyone and he entered the space uncertainly. He was by the control desk when he
saw Spark waiting by the doorway—Where
is she? asked Hod.
—Gone.
—Gone?
Where?
—TorqueÕs with her.
Hod stood and looked over the console. His eyes narrowed as
he tried to remember what heÕd been told about the operation of the computers.
He sat down in AntennaÕs place at the control desk and then stood up again. His
paws hovered over one switch and then a button and he whistled quietly under
his breath. Then he looked at Spark again—Do you know how to work this thing?
Spark looked at the wallaby uncertainly—IÕd better go get Torque.
—IÕll go. Hod leapt up and through the cave tunnels until he came to
the numbat enclosure entrance. He stood in the doorway and bellowed—Antenna! Where are you?
—Oi! Torque scuttled out of the opening—What you about? CanÕt you give her some
time?
—Do you
know how to search the internet? No? Well? WeÕve got
no choice. Get Antenna back to work.
By the time Antenna made her way into the control centre,
Crawf, Helmut, Zip and Hod were standing in a rough semi circle around the
computer monitors. Bash was seated on the console, looking like an ebony
ornament inlaid with slices of buttercup petals.
Torque and Spark stood a little way off, ready to help
Antenna if need be. As if they could.
AntennaÕs dark face fur was wet. She looked at the animals
briefly, sadly, as if she didnÕt really know them at all—YouÕre back.
—Yes, all
safe and sound, said Hod in a robust,
cheering up manner.
—Not all. Not
safe.
—Come on,
Antenna. WeÕre alive. We need you.
Antenna closed her eyes and she went to sit down at the
desk. Once there, she took in a deep breath and
said—Okay. This was the email I
sent out last night. She searched for and opened a sent email. There was an
attached picture of an owl, head turned to face the camera, eyes knowing and
powerful. Antenna read the text in a voice cold as a glacier—It was the last New Zealand laughing owl.
The restaurant had been keeping her on a farm, far away from curiosity seekers
for years.
—Waiting
for a suitably dramatic occasion? said Helmut.
—Some of the
richest people in the world had flown in for the World Bank extravaganza. They
were celebrating a new joint currency for New Zealand and Australia.
—Currency?
—Money.
—Do they
never think of anything else?
Helmut said—Go
on, Antenna.
—Crocodile
medallions stuffed with laughing owl and LeadbeaterÕs possum, poached gently in
a stock made from boiling a moa bone sent over from the Auckland museum. The
stuffing was as light as fairy possum foam. They served the medallions on a
victory wreath of New Zealand spinach drenched in quandong coulis, garnished
with a pohutukawa flower and stabbed with a shard of wattle-seed waffle. It was as if the words themselves were choking her. Antenna
finished reading. A tear plopped down onto the keyboard. Bash involuntarily
jerked in horror as the splash hit him, his thin frog skin easily permeated by
harmful chemicals such as salt.
—IÕm so sorry,
Anti, said Zip.
—We all are,
said Helmut.
—Yeah, we are,
said Crawf.
—Yeah, said
Bash—There was just nothing we
could do.
—Yeah, said Hod—But we
canÕt just stand round here and moan. We got to get them back, donÕt we? WeÕve got
to do something. Now.
There was a silence before Antenna nodded and spoke very
quietly—Yes.
—Yes? said Hod, completely surprised.
—Yes. She
paused and then spoke—I never
thought IÕd say this but youÕre right. We have to get them back, said
Antenna, spitting out the words as if they were sharp metal tacks—ItÕs gone too far. I want them to feel like
I do. I want them to feel devastated.
—You want
vengeance?
—Yes.
Vengeance.
The Ektek animals looked at each other. Hod was burning, on
fire, with the desire to act. Zip was uneasy. She could see AntennaÕs reasoning
was caught in an emotional net and she wasnÕt sure how long it could survive.
Crawf was looking at Antenna with his head to one side, puzzled. Bash, too, was
frowning and Helmut was looking particularly worried.
—We canÕt sit
back and let this happen again. Antenna went on—TheyÕve got to be stopped. DonÕt you see? Min mustnÕt die for nothing.
She must be avenged.
—Avenged? Helmut muttered under his breath. He shook his head and
exhaled heavily through his beak.
The creatures looked at each other again. If Antenna thought
it had to happen, well, then. So did they. All, except Helmut, agreed silently
by their looks and nods. They were deadly serious. They had had enough.
Something had to change.
—YouÕre right,
said Zip.
—WeÕre going to
destroy the restaurant? said Hod.
—Kill them? said Bash—The
whole lousy lot?
—It has to
end, said Antenna—It is the only way.
Helmut stood up. He looked miserable and he glanced at each
creature before he took his next step. Then he paced the floor, walking up and
down as he said—It is not possible.
Ektek are not killers. I feel sick that you can let the Ektek purpose drain
away so quickly from your hearts. How can you forego so easily the memory of
your parents? He stopped and drew himself up to his full height. He
shuffled his feather cloak before he spoke like the elder statesman he
was—Do you really think Min would
want another death, more death, in payment for her life? Is that how she would
be remembered? Ektek are not murderers. Ektek is for life. Ektek is for saving,
for rescue and for helping other creatures.
—Maybe our
best way to help is to clear the way. So many of our elders have been cleared.
Maybe itÕs our turn to take control,
said Crawf.
—We need a plan,
said Zip—A good plan: one that will
work; one that others will join.
—But not
of death, said Helmut—Please, Ektek. Think what you do, Antenna.
Zip. Crawf. Bash. Hod. Please. I beseech you. Do not fall into this morass. We
will never be able to redeem ourselves. We need the high moral ground. If we
lose that, we have lost everything. You will be destroying Ektek.
Antenna took in a deep breath. Somehow HelmutÕs words had
managed to penetrate her madness—Of
course. She stopped, hung her head and waited for the anger to begin to
leave her body—YouÕre right,
Helmut. She raised her head and then looked directly at Hod. She spoke
slowly with no expression, the need for vengeance seemingly gone from
her—ItÕs so easy when you say it. Vengeance. Retribution. Kill. Destroy. But it would be different if we actually had
to do it, wouldnÕt it?
—It would
be straightforward, said the
wallaby—It would be easier each
time.
—Really,
Hod? Really? You could really kill people? Possibly lose other creatures in the
face of a war that we could never ever win? And you would have no concerns
about that? Antenna looked at Hod
and her eyes filled with tears again—I
donÕt believe you. YouÕre not a soldier. You have compassion, whatever you say.
HelmutÕs right. That way Min would have died for nothing. Ektek does not kill.
The animals shifted again. As a group their resolve was
scattered. Hod felt frustration build up in him—What are we going to do then?
Pulling herself together, Antenna loaded another website
onto the screen—This is what the Really
Free Wildlife Company are up to right now.
The monitors showed an ad for a short educational film:
Extinction of a Species; the death of the very last
LeadbeaterÕs possum. There was footage of Min, scampering through the branches
of a mountain ash. A bright purple star framed bold print explaining that: our
cameras just happened to be there as the last fairy possum met her final fate.
A trailer played the opening credits and then, if you desired to view the
entire film, payment was requested through a secure payment system of your
choice.
The animals in the control cave watched in shock—It seems the Really Free Wildlife Company
have turned their talents to making snuff movies, said Helmut.
—What do you
mean? said Zip—As in candles?
—Of
course, they hope to profit by the animalsÕ extinction. If their hologram is in
fact the last example of a now known extinct creature, then it becomes
virtually priceless.
—They
canÕt get away with it, said Zip—Can they?
—WonÕt
human conservation groups do something? asked Bash.
—Even if we
could find evidence to prove the company was acting illegally, how could we
make sure theyÕd get prosecuted? said
Helmut—And how could we make sure
that prosecution was successful? If we did manage to get them into court,
theyÕd happily pay through the nose for legal defence.
Hod agreed—I bet
itÕs already in their budget.
Helmut continued—ThereÕs
only the slimmest of chances theyÕd be found guilty and punished. Even then,
theyÕd probably appeal, keep the case clogging up the system for years and
still be selling their wares.
The creatures sat in the blue glow, cold and numb.
—The Really Free
Wildlife Company will profitably release the footage showing nature at its most
unsentimental, you know, red in tooth and claw and all that. People will pay to
keep their expectations upheld. Keeps them feeling righteous, said Antenna.
—ThatÕs right.
Keeping dirty, nasty wild nature under control, said Zip.
—But what about
the customers? said Bash—WonÕt the audience realise theyÕre watching
a restaurant?
—They can
alter the images any way they want. Special effects to change the background,
advanced software to alter the foregroundÉ You can see from the trailer. It was
easy to make that look like it was shot in a forest using a green screen and a
fancy editing program.
—Dead
easy, said Hod.
—What about the
zoo? asked Crawf—Do you think the zoo could be in on it?
—What? asked Zip, shock visible on her bat face.
—They must have
been tricked, said Bash—Like
us.
—We donÕt
know that. Why shouldnÕt the zoo be involved? TheyÕd get a tidy sum for a
clearing. It makes perfect economical sense.
—Hod!
DonÕt even think it! said
Bash—It couldnÕt be true. Could it?
—Where do
you think your next meal is coming from, Bash? It costs money to care for us
prisoners. Public exhibition is one way; fancy new
enclosures, sorry, habitats, eye-catching graphics detailing threats against
our survival, all the trappings of a modern zoo, everything, is expensive. Is
it possible that turnstile income is not enough? Why are they always
advertising for sponsors?
—I canÕt
believe the zoo would publicly champion threatened species and then so
blatantly profit by their deaths, said
Helmut.
—Not
intentionally, said Antenna—The
Really Free Wildlife Company must at least have accomplices in the zoo. How
else can they gain access and maintain cover-ups of the deaths?
—What
about me? said
Zip in a small voice—I was taped. I
must be next.
—ThatÕs
right, Zip, said Helmut—Anyone else?
—Ana the
elephant and Charles, one of the Galapagos tortoises, were both filmed, said Antenna—WeÕd
better get them under surveillance.
Spark nodded and followed Torque as they moved away,
preparing to request beetle surveillance for Zip, Ana and Charles at once.
—I think another
visit to the Really Free Wildlife Company might be in order, said Helmut.
—Okay, said
Antenna—Take the airship with Zip
and Bash. ThereÕs something Crawf and I have to do.
—What are
we looking for, exactly? said Bash.
—Anything that
might help dissolve the company, said Helmut.
—You had
your chance, said Hod.
—They would have
come back from a fire like a phoenix, Hod. TheyÕd be insured. Place like that,
said Helmut—We need something that
will finish them.
—You mean
firebombing.
—I mean
economic death, said Helmut—If their shareholders suffer then even
anyone who might consider emulating themÉ
CrawfÕs feathered headpiece was flat against his head,
showing his distress but even so, he uttered a short alert cry—Hullo? he
said—IÕve got an idea. Why donÕt we
infiltrate the company?
The rest of the Ektek animals greeted his suggestion with
outright derision and sneers, glad of an opportunity to laugh. Zip thought it
particularly funny—How do you think
weÕre going to do that? Dress up in a human suit and eat roast lamb?
—WeÕre
animals. TheyÕre humans, said Hod—In case you hadnÕt noticed.
Crawf continued—What
about the hologram in the office, Zip? DidnÕt you think it was Min?
—True.
—Well,
then. I could pretend to be a hologram.
—ThatÕs
just crazy enough to work, said Antenna.
—Thanks, Crawf
but if IÕm the one on the hit list, then it would have to be me, said Zip.
—We canÕt make
ourselves any more vulnerableÉ Helmut was saying when Spark entered the
room and flew straight to Antenna. The beetle looked worried—YouÕd better see this for yourself.
—CanÕt you
just tell us?
In response, Spark turned and left.
The other Ektek creatures trailed behind Antenna and the beetle, as they dodged
in procession through the secret passageways. Then Spark led them all out into
the public area. It was after hours but they still kept to the shadows and out
of the security humanÕs line of sight. Torque waited for them, balanced on a
large sign outside the numbat enclosure. It showed an attractive image of
Antenna. The sign said, ÔWhy keep her in prison when we can let our only numbat
go free?Õ ÔComing SoonÕ was an ÔUnbelievable 3D
hologram numbat. So real you can reach out and touch her. Almost.Õ There was a
Really Free Wildlife Company logo in the corner.
Antenna turned to look at her team and shrugged helplessly.
ÔHow could it be so?Õ her eyes seemed to ask them.
—There were
hidden cameras, said Bash.
—Must have been,
said Helmut.
—Unbelievable is
right, said Zip.
—Sorry itÕs not
you? said Hod.
—ThatÕs just the
disgusting sort of thing you would say, said Zip.
—Shut up, you
two. Anyone else get this?
—No, Anti,
said Spark—Just you.
Antenna stared at her image with her dark glinting eyes. She
contemplated her options and their inevitable consequences. Here was a bitter-sweet offer: liberty or death.
Surely freedom must be more than annihilation?
Chapter Fifteen
The engine hummed as Crawf flew the wingship into a
darkening sky. He looked down as he sighted the coiling river and began to
bring the plane down—WeÕre here.
—So soon?
He glanced over to his passenger—It might rain.
—Is that
safe?
—Least of
your worries.
Crawf slowly glided through an easy landing and the plane
stopped. Antenna looked out of the window. SheÕd never travelled in the
wingship before and was glad to have reached the ground at last—Thanks, Crawf. I just couldnÕt ask Bash to
do this. It was my job.
—DonÕt worry
about Bash. The sound of wild, free frogs and crickets rose in the evening
light, replacing the thrum of the engines—Believe me, nothing would have induced him to be here now. IÕll go
first. Crawf opened his window and looked over at Antenna—They know me.
—Okay. She opened her window anyway and started to make her way
out.
Crawf flew out onto the wing. He held a small stick with his
foot and hit the side of the wing rhythmically. He called out—Hullo? Crocodiles? Is Shining Teeth there?
In the dim light, a stir of low branches and log-like
figures came to life. It was the crocodile's harem and they crawled towards the
plane.
Crawf and Antenna stood one on each wing. They would go no
further. Crawf ceased drumming. They watched as the crocodiles milled under the
wingship with heavy reptilian movements. One of the crocs crawled forward and
lifted her head—I am Shining Teeth.
What news?
—Hullo? I
am Crawf, the palm cockatoo you met before.
—Did you
bring Hardback? The harem all
started forward, muttering questions, eager to see their mate, scrambling over
each other—Where is he? Is he here?
Let him outÉ
Instead of answering their questions, Crawf said—We must have your word that you will let us
go unharmed, no matter what.
—Where is
our husband? asked
Shining Teeth.
—You must give
us your word, Crawf insisted—We
are honourable creatures wishing you no harm; you must respect that and give us
peace in return.
The crocodiles grumbled and paced under the wingship. They
were not happy. Where was Hardback? Was he in the aircraft somewhere? Why did
Ektek not let him out? What was the hold up?
Then Antenna stepped forward, still balanced on the wing and
said—Excuse me, Shining Teeth, may
I speak?
—Be
careful, Antenna, said Crawf, under
his breath—DonÕt trust them.
—Who are
you? called out
Shining Teeth.
—I am Antenna.
Numbat. It is true I have bad tidings from Ektek.
—That is
all Ektek is to us. Bad news. We should never have called you.
—Ektek
worked rigorously for Hardback but there were greater forces at play here. We
have all lost much.
—You? Shining Teeth shook her head in disbelief—What have you lost, numbat? She sneered.
—My parents. My best friend. My place in the world; my home, my everything.
—Then you
know how we feel.
—That is
why I wanted to be the one to tell you what happened to Hardback.
—He is
dead then.
—Yes.
There was a collective gasp from the crocodile harem. They
breathed out a sigh that might have been a farewell. They had always believed
he would come back to them. Now their hopes were dead, along with their mate.
—He died
bravely, with dignity. I wanted you to know.
—Then
there is no hope, said Jata.
—Not for him,
said Antenna—But there is for you.
—What
difference can that make? said Grater.
—You can now lay
him to rest in your hearts and minds É
—But you
can never give him back, said Shining
Teeth. She turned and shouted to her harem sisters—We should have gone in and taken him when we had the chance.
—What
chance? We had no chance, shouted Crawf—Hardback was lost from the moment he walked
into that trap and you know it.
—No! shouted Asunder.
—He spent days at
that prison farm, said Jata.
—Being groomed
for sacrifice, said Crawf—Under
armed guard!
—We could
have got him out, said Jata—But we didnÕt.
—Because
Ektek told us not to, said Shining
Teeth.
—You could not
have got him out. We couldnÕt have
got past dogs and men with guns and neither could you, said Crawf—What do you expect of Ektek?
The crocodiles began to move closer, examining the wheels, raising up to see if they could climb up to the wings. Crawf
made a move to the cockpit—Time to
go, Antenna, he muttered as he climbed in to the plane.
—Help. We
expected help, said Damura—Was
that too much to ask?
Jata said—We
thought that was what Ektek was for.
—We were
wrong, said Damura.
—Dead wrong,
said Grater.
Antenna continued to stand on the wing of the aircraft even
as Crawf started the engines—All I
can say, she shouted—Is that we
tried. We really did try and I donÕt know how to make it better for you. We
wanted you to know, it is not over.
—Get in,
shouted Crawf through the cockpit window, over the noise of the engines—Antenna! Get in now. WeÕre going.
—Is that
it? cried out
Shining Teeth—Is that all you have
to say about the death of my husband? Our husband? Is that what you leave for
us?
—IÕm
sorry, said Antenna and she turned to
climb in the window. Once safely inside the cockpit, she looked out at the
crocodiles, walking, running, scurrying behind the moving machine, their heads
raised, their eyes burning in the dark as the wingship rose into the night.
—ItÕs okay.
Crawf glanced over at Antenna, still staring out the window at the darkness
below—We made it out of there. Live
to fight another day. ThatÕs the main thing.
Antenna
wasnÕt so sure. As she peered grimly into the black beneath them, Antenna
whispered to the crocodiles, knowing they could not hear and would never
understand her if they could—ItÕs
not over.
Chapter Sixteen
In the half-light of the Ektek garage, several beetles, together
with Zip and Crawf, worked on the tank. The patchwork surface of the vehicle
gleamed where, over time, thousands of beetles had burnished the metal. Zip
moved the lamp, a long, flexible pipe, closer to the
driverÕs door. The pipe was connected to thin tunnels, in which embedded
mirrors were angled to reflect surface sunlight strategically onto the working
area. She tightened the locking device she was altering in the door.
They had just about finished modifying the tank, allowing it
to be driven by a larger animal, now that Min was dead. The entire cabin had
had to be greatly enlarged. The controls and seat had to be replaced. The door
had to be changed to a much larger one.
A team of several beetles had been working through the
night. They were getting weary and the work had been going too slowly. They
were expecting their replacements to arrive soon and the fresh team would be
able to continue with renewed vigour while the tired ones slept.
Out of the corner of her eye, Zip could see movement. She
looked up to see Antenna walking past on her way to the exit. She called
out—Hey, Anti! HowÕs it going?
Crawf also looked up and nodded—Hullo? before returning to his work.
—Yo! Antenna,
said a beetle and another added for good measure—Gidday, AntennaÉ
Antenna didnÕt reply and just kept marching on. Zip shrugged
and continued with her work, thinking the numbat must be too distracted by
heavy thoughts of her personal predicament for light-hearted chit-chat.
The numbat came to the light-pipe stretched out along the floor and, without
pausing, tried but failed to negotiate it. Suddenly the numbat spluttered and
fell over, landing on her side.
Zip and Crawf looked up from their work on the tank.
Immediate concern caused Crawf to leap up into the air and fly over to the
mammalÕs feet. Zip was also alarmed and hurriedly flew to the numbatÕs
assistance—Antenna!
CrawfÕs wingtip patted AntennaÕs pointed, furred face,
trying to restore her. Her legs kept on kicking in a strange repetitive action.
Zip frowned as she watched and tried to touch them but the movement seemed
involuntary and constant and the legs were stiff, unable to stop. She looked up
to Crawf, full of worry—Is she
having some kind of fit?
—Antenna! Crawf renewed his patting and asked the fallen
numbat—Are you okay?
—IÕm fine, thanks, but I donÕt think thatÕs doing so well. The real Antenna walked out of the shadows holding a small
box. It was a remote control.
Zip and Crawf jumped back from the false numbat and stared
at real Antenna. She was laughing as she flicked the controls. The controls
were having absolutely no effect the puppet numbat. There was a metallic
clicking noise coming from the active legs—Still needs work, hmmm?
The mechanical creature clicked and kicked. Manifold rushed
forwards and climbed up the body and into the pretend numbatÕs armpit. Soon the
motors stopped and the kicking was over. Silence spread over the cave once
more.
Gobsmacked, Crawf and Zip stared at Antenna and then back to
the model as if watching an invisible tennis match. Antenna walked forward and
bent down to check the false numbatÕs leg wasnÕt falling off. She moved it,
backwards and forwards, checking the clicky action—We can smooth that out, canÕt we, Manifold? Manifold, muffled from
within the techno creature, squeaked out an affirmative. Antenna thought
aloud—ItÕll get past those researchers long enough. I
hope.
Crawf came forward to inspect the mechanical toy—WonÕt they feel the weight of the mechanics
when they pick it up?
—Hopefully
they wonÕt ever touch it.
—YouÕre
sure about that? Zip could see the
risks and she didnÕt like them. Antenna was going to be taken by the Really
Free Wildlife Company and they could transport her literally anywhere. Once in
Really FreeÕs clutches, Ektek could only hope Antenna would stay within reach.
They had to hope the Really Free Wildlife Company would stay predictable. That
was, if Antenna wanted to stay alive. AntennaÕs future rested precariously on a
hope. Antenna continued, apparently unperturbed—I knew theyÕd do a good job.
—Thanks,
IÕll tell the team when they wake up,
squeaked Manifold—IÕll start her
again, if you like.
Antenna indicated that Manifold should hold her fire and
turned to look at the other animals—IÕve
got something important to ask. WhoÕs going to take over in the control room?
Someone has to. Zip?
Zip didnÕt want this discussion and quickly brushed over
AntennaÕs suggestion—Get it up on
its feet first.
—Crawf?
Crawf also grabbed the opportunity to shift the topic of
conversation. He moved forward straight away to grab the remote controlled
numbat with his beak and Antenna helped Zip and Crawf push the puppet upright.
Antenna had to admit these two didnÕt want to talk about the
control centre. She gave in for the moment and instead drove the fake beast
past Crawf and Zip for a more formal demonstration. This time they watched more
carefully as the replica moved. AntennaÕs paws didnÕt have the flexibility
required to get the most out of the remote control and the fake faltered as it
moved.
—Walks funny.
—You donÕt
have to whisper, Zip. Crawf said—It canÕt hear you.
—The
modelÕs not too bad. I think we can blame the operator here but you donÕt have
to worry. CrawfÕll be the one doing it on the day.
Crawf looked at Antenna. He knew this was a matter of life
and death but then, life and death were breakfast and lunch to an Ektek
creature.
—Perhaps, Zip,
you should consider meeting with me in the control room. Someone has to know
how to run the website and youÕre more familiar than ...
—But IÕll
be out in the action and youÕre coming back anyway.
—What if
IÕm not?
—You have
to be. Have you shown Crawf how that contraption works?
Antenna could see she was fighting a losing battle expecting
these two would take over the computer operation. Although she was flattered
they thought so highly of her invincibility, she knew she had to convince
someone to take up the reigns or the future of Ektek was at risk—Here, Crawf, you have a go. Crawf took
the control with his scaly bird foot and looked at it carefully from side to
side.
—You push there
to go ahead, left, right and reverse. Okay?
—Think so. Crawf tentatively sent the false numbat stumbling forwards.
As Zip exclaimed over CrawfÕs
ungainly first attempts to drive the puppet, Antenna noticed Helmut and Hod
arriving into the garage from different directions. Hod was on duty next, to
replace Crawf and Zip. Helmut was on his way to the airship. He needed to
complete his pilotÕs pre-flight check. Antenna watched, worried there might be trouble between them.
In an attempt to give Hod more responsibility, and therefore
ground his flights of irrational rebellion, Ektek had chosen him as the new
tank driver in MinÕs place.
Helmut took Hod aside before they reached the tank and
said—Please, Hod. DonÕt try any
funny stuff today.
Hod pulled away from him—What about you?
—Think of
Min. Think of Antenna. Helmut
considered Hod—Just, please, do
your job safely.
Hod had grown up respecting Helmut but, now that Helmut was
getting older, Hod was seeing a different side to the elder, a more fallible side—Do you really think Ektek can make any
difference at all? With our careful little actions? Our prim little dobs to the authorities who are probably already
well aware of the reprobates and who are so slow and lumbering to change
anything?
—I donÕt
like to think of the alternative. WeÕre not angry monkeys chucking rocks at
cars. We have purpose. We have strategy. We have honour. Perhaps Ektek can help
slow the extinction rate a little. Maybe we can inform enough people to make a
difference. I donÕt know. But at least I can sleep at night.
—You donÕt
think angry monkeys sleep well?
—WeÕve got
a chance to communicate with humans. Maybe even get them to think, to realise
weÕre all in the same boat.
—I never
have a problem sleeping; and thereÕs only one species IÕd like to see extinct.
—Even they
are necessary in the web of life.
—ThatÕs
debateable, Hod laughed—Tell you what. LetÕs have our own Nemesis Night.
Lions versus Christians.
Helmut could see the funny side of HodÕs idea too. It was
only a small moment between them but they did share a laugh.
—DonÕt worry,
Helmut. Not a single soul is going to get hurt tonight. Because heÕd turned
to go, Helmut didnÕt hear the very quiet addition Hod muttered under his breath
as he leapt past Antenna—Unless
absolutely necessary.
Chapter
Seventeen
I
Antenna walked through the cavernous hangar. Would she ever
see Ektek again? As she travelled, she saw the paths of her life so far, in a
different, more poignant light. She nodded and waved to beetles of her
acquaintance and quietly said her farewells to the vehicles, the machines and
the systems of her youth, her life and her family. Finally, she rounded a
corner and saw the yellow-footed rock wallaby sheÕd been looking for.
Hod was working on something in the machine cage with his
back to her. This was a lockable part of the hangar where heavy tools were
stored to prevent fire and accidents. She opened the door; it squeaked from
rust and disuse and she didnÕt notice HodÕs reaction. He was jumpy. He wasnÕt
expecting visitors and definitely didnÕt want them. He quickly covered his work
with a rag as he turned to see her.
Antenna was feeling too emotional to question him or what he
might be doing. She simply wanted to say goodbye and ask him one little
question—Hod?
—Anti, he
smiled at her in greeting, old friends together.
—Busy?
—Nothing
much, he said and he turned to move
her out of the cage—ÔSup?
—Got a
moment?
—Sure.
—Come to
the control centre and IÕll teach you the panel operation.
—Me?
—Yeah,
you.
—Sure. Hod was only too pleased to get Antenna headed out to the
main hangar area—But youÕll be
back.
—ÔCourse. Antenna, taken aback by the ease of this win with Hod, was
thrilled someone was prepared to take on the control mantle. She thought sheÕd
finally been able to find a successor and really didnÕt want to question it too
closely—But you know thereÕs a risk
and someone has to be able to keep the place going. ItÕs not going to be that
difficult. I made a document that has all the basic instructions and
information and itÕs saved on the main drive É
Hod looked at her doubtfully as she talked and they walked
through the corridors. Although it had served his immediate purpose to get her
out of the machine cage, he was not at all convinced that the computer job
should be his. In fact, he had his own, entirely different, plans for the
future. He followed her uncertainly into the control cave and stood before the
phalanx of monitors and blinking lights. He became increasingly awkward.
—Okay, said
Antenna—Make yourself comfortable É
—You know,
Anti, said Hod, not really coming
forward into the space—ThatÕs one
thing I donÕt think I ever will be Ôround here. Tech stuff. ItÕs É Just not me.
—But you
said É
—I thought
I could. Just for a moment. But now, itÕs not real, is it? Come on, Anti. You
didnÕt really think I would?
—Who then?
Zip plain refuses. Bash wonÕt. Crawf wonÕt. It has to be you. You and I are the
ones, Hod. WeÕve been trained for this all our lives. You canÕt give up now.
—IÕm not
giving up. IÕm just saying itÕs not my area. And if thereÕs a chance youÕre not
coming back, then, same stands for me.
—What?
—Antenna.
I wouldnÕt let anything happen to you. You must know that. If youÕre not here,
then I wonÕt be either.
Still refusing to approach the computers, Hod stood away
from the control desk and watched her. Antenna realised he would not sit down
with her and he was leaving. She stood also and they stared at each other for a
while. He bent down to her and gently held his nose to hers. They let their
breath mingle. Hod and Antenna stood quietly forehead to
forehead before he broke away and abruptly left the control space.
Antenna stared after him. She had felt his yearning but
didnÕt understand it. She missed the old Hod who had been like a brother. He
seemed more like a stranger to her now. Where had that old friend gone and who was this new, tough rebel muscling into his place? She
felt she had missed an opportunity to ask him what was going on but knew he
wouldnÕt be able to tell her much more than he already had. She knew he was
frustrated at their low success rate. So was she. She just hoped he could be
happy with their peaceful approach. She didnÕt think sheÕd be able to take any
more violence, any more loss. She pined for a moment, for the past, for her
family and for Min É
Antenna came back to earth and switched the video monitors
on. This was her business. SheÕd already set up the web pages. The headline
read: Is the Really Free Wildlife Company Really for Real? The screens played
continual footage of MinÕs death; both EktekÕs version and the Really Free
Wildlife CompanyÕs edited promotional footage from their website; together with
all the relevant links.
She removed the consoleÕs carapace and started testing the
connection to the satellite. Ektek could only use the satellite for ten hours a
day. It restricted the immediacy of some of their internet
broadcasts but, on the plus side, it meant EktekÕs footage could receive a bit
more editorial attention before the public saw it.
She skimmed through her emails and found various new
comments on her blog. Most assured her they were expecting the Last Chance to
Eat rescue footage, if it were to come to that, to have a large international
audience. Internet technology was equal to most challenges and, with the satellite;
Ektek had links covering the entire world. Threatened extinction was certainly
a global problem and there were many interested groups and individuals online,
some of them even human, who would be watching to see a numbat rescued from a
theatre restaurant.
Antenna leaned forward to the mic—Helmut? Can you commence connection, please? Over.
From the airship, Helmut acknowledged her—Over and out.
Antenna had just enough time to set up the netcast camera
relay from the airship straight to the web. She pushed send on the media
release. There was a special notification to the Department of Flora and Fauna
and one to the zoo marked urgent. It was paramount that the zoo understood the
connection between the Really Free Wildlife Company and Last Chance to Eat. No
one in Ektek believed the zoo could actually condone what went on in the
restaurant but a bit of media attention might boost their outrage.
There would be no one at the control desk to edit. The
pictures from the restaurant came in clearly and colourfully, if not always the
best quality colour. They would be netcast, sixteen frames every second, while
the link was maintained. Antenna nodded. All systems go.
II
It was a grey, misty day. The clouds were low. The air was
cold. The ground was wet and shiny. The airship hovered over the zoo car park.
From the Ektek security camera at the gate, Antenna could see the Really Free
Wildlife CompanyÕs van and several media cars had arrived, setting up their OB
and loading gear, waiting for the press conference to begin.
Manifold popped her head into the control room—TheyÕre here.
Antenna left the office area, taking a last look at MinÕs
image huddled among the leaves in the computer generated highland forest. MinÕs
huge eyes glinted on the screen. Antenna felt a terrible sense of loss as she
lifted her paw briefly in farewell.
In the hangar, her waiting friends quickly surrounded her.
Antenna didnÕt like to say goodbye at the best of times and this was one of the
worst. She didnÕt want to hurt her friends by dwelling on the possibility of
death. Come to that, she didnÕt want to dwell on the possibility of her own
death either. She hugged each of her friends in turn.
—Good luck, growled Torque.
—See you later.
—No doubt, said Torque—No
doubt at all, Antenna. None at all. WeÕll see you
later, thatÕs right. You keep your chin up. ThatÕs the
way.
—Soon, said Spark.
Crawf gestured impatiently—Come on, Antenna. TheyÕre trying to find you.
—YouÕd
better take care, Zip hugged Antenna
and whispered—I donÕt want to lose
another friend.
—Neither
do I.
—If itÕs
in my power É
—I wish
youÕdÕve let me teach you É
—When you
get back. IÕll be ready to learn then. Do the full diploma É
—When I
get back É Antenna gave her bat
friend a wry look.
Manifold ran down the tunnel and called—Hurry, Antenna! TheyÕre getting worried.
—You donÕt
have to go, whispered Zip—You could run away.
—DonÕt
think I havenÕt É
—Go then!
—Where?
—Stay
here! You could!
—TheyÕd
look for me. Antenna smiled at her
friend and gently pulled away—They
might find Ektek. CanÕt risk that. No choice. Got to go. Be good.
Leaving Zip, Antenna ran up to her enclosure and raced into
the hollow log just as her keeper, Sanjit, looked in the other end and found
her. He tipped the log, gently, and looked surprised when he saw her there. Sanjit
had looked after Antenna since she had been a baby. He picked her up and looked
into her eyes. He could feel her heart racing and he laughed with the media.
Who knew what he was thinking? Antenna wished she could speak human. She could
have told him a few things he didnÕt know. She also knew, whatever happened
with the Really Free Wildlife Company, what ever happened in Last Chance to
Eat, win or lose, she could not come back to this enclosure.
Sanjit patted Antenna and then gave her over to the Really
Free Wildlife Researcher. The cameras flashed then, and reporters cackled,
seemed to quack some happy questions, clucked and flapped some more. Antenna
dangled from the researcherÕs hands. She was overcome with dread.
A politician grinned nervously into the cameras as Antenna
began to climb her arm. A tall thin man, who looked like a scientist, took hold
of Antenna and ritualistically placed her into a small animal transfer case. He
shut the lid. Antenna made herself comfortable. It sounded like a lot of
important speeches were going on, presumably about what it meant to be a numbat
living in the civilised world, the important role of zoos and releasing captive
born into the wild. She sat, squashed into her little travel case, and thought
to herself maybe this publicity might actually be good for the case of animals.
She really hoped there was a positive side to this experience. It just felt
like sacrifice to her.
Then, because sheÕd been reading the media releases, she
allowed herself a little fantasy time. Perhaps they really were intending to
fly her to her natural habitat. Perhaps the area had been feral fenced and pest
baited. Perhaps she really was going to be released into the forest. Antenna
imagined she could be very happy in a community of newly released numbats. She
started to look forward to it. Perhaps she could raise a family of her own. See
her grandchildren cavorting in the sun, carelessly eating the ants and
termitesÉ As the travel case was lifted into the air, she was jolted into
reality. SheÕd believe it when she saw it.
Chapter Eighteen
I
Helmut piloted the airship, Bash sitting beside him. They
floated through the grey, misty sky. They would track the movements of the van
and act as a relay station between the recording gear and the satellite.
The Really Free Wildlife Company van, closely followed,
above and astern, by the airship, drove into the peak afternoon traffic. They
drove for some time. Antenna had never been in a humanÕs car before. She didnÕt
like it. She quickly learned to stay lying down, but even then she was thrown
against the side of the case far too often for comfort. She wondered they
hadnÕt considered if bruising would hurt the meat. Then she remembered the
concept of tenderising.
II
Crawf and Zip were travelling in the red sports car with the
fake numbat. They were not actually driving. They were parked in the tank. It
would be their job to enter wherever Antenna was to be held, leaving the tank
outside, to perpetrate a swap of numbats, if possible. Perhaps they would just
wave to Antenna as she explored the forest of her newly found freedom and
community. Maybe. Maybe not. They wouldnÕt take any
unnecessary chances.
III
Hod was also ready in the tank, not yet driving. The tank
was parked in the belly of the airship. He was in communication with Zip in the
car. The tank was to be deployed mainly as a transport vehicle. Unless, thought
Hod, it became necessary to ramp up the action. And the way Hod was thinking,
it probably would.
IV
Outside, on the roadway, the Really Free Wildlife Company
van stopped. AntennaÕs heart was thumping like a huge road-building hammer. She
could feel her ribs being beaten. She didnÕt like it. It didnÕt feel like
freedom should. It felt far more like meat tenderising.
Silence.
Then humans barked at each other before the van door slid
open, people got out and the carry case was hefted, somewhat carelessly, into
the air. Then Antenna realised she was inside a building and, as sheÕd known
all along in her tenderised heart, there would be no such thing as freedom for
this little rust-coloured numbat.
She could smell tantalising smells of sauces and stocks.
Only, to her, the heavy aromas were cloying. She felt sick. There was a
low-level hum of business. They were no longer pretending to hold her carry
case steady. She fell to one side and scrabbled to regain balance. Finally,
they put her down on the ground. Antenna rose groggily to her feet, swayed and
then vomited a little in a corner of the case. She didnÕt think travel suited
her.
They cleaned her up when they transferred her to a smaller
cage. At least she could see through the bars. She could breathe better too,
but she didnÕt want to because of the smell of sauce.
As expected, she was indeed in Last Chance to Eat. There
were no patrons here yet. Most of the dining room was dark and shadowed.
Antenna was off to one side, still in her cage. SheÕd been given fresh water
and food, some of that custard stuff from the zoo. She could only sit tight and
wait for her chance – either to be rescued or not – whichever came
first.
The central section of the room was bathed in bright hot
light. A large holographic camera was pointing at a stage set in the middle of
the restaurant. The stage was sandy. There was a large termiteÕs nest with a
log artistically arranged across the front.
So, this was to be the scene of AntennaÕs very own Nemesis
Night. She was much closer to the human film crew than Ektek had been before. A
man Antenna surmised might be a director stared intently into a monitor on the
right side of the camera. What might have been a producer watched over the
directorÕs shoulder, a mobile phone pressed to the side of her head as she
buzzed on and on in snorty human talk. What could they be planning? Was there
any chance at all they might be talking about something good? Something that might benefit the natural world in even the smallest
way?
Antenna thought not.
Antenna watched as the grip adjusted the tracks preparing
for the camera move. The boom operator swung a large hairy mic in and out across
the set. After watching the boom operator for a while, trying to puzzle out
what the heck she was doing, Antenna assumed she was checking for boom shadows
across the bright set.
There was a soft flutter and the nearly black Crawf appeared
out of the darkness beside her. He had cloaked his pink face patch with his
feathers. He spoke very quietly—Hullo?
He melted back into the dark. Antenna nearly fainted with relief. Then she
could hear the clicking of her cage door as he attempted to undo the lock with
his beak. It seemed to be taking a ridiculous time and making an awful noise.
There were people everywhere. Any minute now, one of them would come to
investigateÉ
—WhatÕs the
problem? she whispered.
—My beak.
—WhatÕs
with the beak?
—ItÕs
hollow.
—Hollow?
—IÕve got
to be careful.
—I see. Antenna didnÕt see and she couldnÕt think how she could help
him with his fragile beak so she waited, fairly screaming inside. She watched
the people going about their business, back-lit from the dazzling light of the
stage, not paying her any attention at all. There were people operating
machines – cameras, lights and sound – everywhere. Even in the
ceiling. Antenna watched them all, trying to stay calm and distracted, as Crawf
tinkered away with his lock.
Up in the lighting grid, Antenna saw a movement in the
shadows and it was far too small to be human. She focussed intently on the
place and sure enough saw the twinkle of a tiny frogÕs eye in the glare of the
stage lighting. It was Bash. He was preparing to broadcast proceedings to
headquarters. He placed his camera on a strategic strut and watched. He panned
across the space with his tiny viewfinder. Antenna hoped his footage was
beaming to the website. She almost waved but figured she didnÕt want to be
attracting attention to Crawf so abstained from any irregular movements.
Crawf continued his struggles with the cage. He used more
and more force until the cage began to shake.
—Careful, CrawfÉ
Antenna didnÕt think he could have heard her; he was making so much noise
with the lock. He kept on and on, making more and more of a racket, until he
finally knocked the whole cage over. It crashed onto the floor and rolled.
—Run! screeched Crawf —Run
for your life!
—Oh, well
done, Crawf, Antenna muttered.
She was thrown about in the cage as it tumbled across the floor. She wondered
what the humans would make of that loud cockatoo screech. Did they have parrots
on the menu that night? Finally the cage came to a stop and she lay on the
ground, realised she was still alive, and even more tender. She
was now under a table, covered by a draping tablecloth. She knew she
wouldnÕt have long before the humans raced over to see what had happened.
Amazingly, the restaurant staff chose that very moment to turn on their funky
bossa nova vibes and no greasy tune had ever been more
welcome to any creatureÕs ear. It would help to cover any further noise
she might have to make to get out of the cage.
Luckily the door was above her and the lock had been broken.
Antenna wasnÕt sure if it had been the weak beak or the smashing across the
floor that had done the trick but she wasnÕt going to hang around and try and
work it out forensically. Not when she needed to get the heck out of there. She
clambered out of the cage and ran to another table, and then another until she
felt relatively safe under a table near the wall and then she stayed very still
indeed. Crawf would have to look after himself.
There was consternation among the film crew as they yelped and
bleated to each other, bustling to and fro searching for her cage, but they only
seemed to succeed in getting in each otherÕs way.
After Antenna had calmed down enough to breathe, she had to
find out where sheÕd landed. She peered out from under the tablecloth and, just
as they had planned, there was the trusty replacement numbat, skittering across
the floor. It was so well manipulated by old Ôweak beakÕ Crawf that it looked
almost real.
A woman with a clipboard ran over. Another assistant
appeared from the other angle. They both put their clipboards down. One ran to
the numbat puppet and bleated nervously. Obviously she was too scared to pick
it up. Antenna wondered if the woman thought it might bite. She only wished it
could. They could have built a bite mechanism into the faux numbat. If only!
That would have given those humans a fright. Then Antenna was ashamed of
herself, remembering HelmutÕs words. Ektek wasnÕt for biting people.
The other woman picked up the cage and examined it. It
seemed undamaged to her. She quickly lowered the cage over the numbat replica,
as though trapping a spider in her bathroom. She tapped the creature over to
one side and flicked the door shut. Then she placed the cage, together with the
pseudo numbat, onto a table in plain view. Everyone picked up their clipboards and left. No one made a fuss. Everyone kept
their heads down, concentrating.
The switch had been made.
Antenna thought it must be nearly time, although she did
wonder to herself, time for what?
The dark restaurant was becoming busier. Waiters were
showing customers to their tables. Down near the staging area, a sound engineer
frowned and adjusted a lever. A gaffer adjusted a lamp high up in the lighting
grid. Footsteps came nearer to Antenna. The assistants met and flapped their
clipboard notes at each other and yabbered in human gibberish.
Antenna could see the false numbat was turning around inside
the cage. It looked as though it were chasing its tail. What a time to have
fun. Crawf must have been practising, shoving those controls around with his
hollow beak, just as hard as he could go.
All Antenna had to do was find Zip, who was hopefully
waiting nearby in the red sports car but Antenna couldnÕt see her. Her eyes
probed the shadows, seeking hidden traces of her friend in vain.
The Really Free Wildlife CompanyÕs production team signalled
they were ready. A green screen was set in place and various habitats were
projected behind the set. A harried man in a black tee-shirt
opened the slightly dented cage and took the compliant numbat to the set. The
fake numbat was placed onto the rocks and immediately started to climb to the
termiteÕs nest. Crawf was concentrating on getting a lifelike walk and the
model numbat did look convincing, even to Antenna. Personally, Antenna thought
she would have been much more wooden than that. She thought she would be unable
to move at all. SheÕd be terrified. What was going to happen to that little
pretend beast? What would be its Nemesis?
The restaurant was still filling with clients. An excited
hum blended with the oily lounge music. The waiters marched swiftly to take
orders and fill drinks. Elaborately dressed women relaxed, their shatoosh
protecting them from the cool of the evening. Antenna wondered about the chiru
theyÕd seen only a few days before. When theyÕd shot the komodo, did they kill
the chiru, too? Make their fancy recipes without the show or did they conjure
up some fantasy hunting sequence to make it all worthwhile?
The imitation numbat was filmed as the technicians ran their
tests on various backgrounds for the benefit of the producer and the director.
They watched their little monitor very seriously as they compared the numbat
against computer-generated backgrounds of a snowfield, a dense forest, a beachÉ
There were sounds of arguments from the crew. The director hooted.
The technicians replaced the sandy vista with a forest
floor. On screen, the model looked right at home. As the real, breathing
Antenna watched, she realised all this effort had to be worth a packet to the
humans. A holo numbat in every zoo, because there was no way to see a real one,
must lead to healthy royalties and acclaim. But, Antenna knew, and the Really
Free Wildlife Company must have known, that she was not the last numbat. There
were at least two healthy surviving communities in the wild. She began to
realise the Really Free Wildlife Company hadnÕt made much of a song and dance
about her. She realised she must be there as background; no, she was there as
bait, for some other creature.
There was a conference going on at the monitor and an
assistant was dispatched to deliberate with a waiter. The director spoke to the
Director Of Photography, perhaps checking to see if they had enough useable
footage. The producer gave him the nod. It was time for the assassination.
Antenna felt panicked. Who would be the star of Nemesis
Night tonight?
There was a small pause while the waiter passed on the
message to the person in charge of production for this evening and then the
music changed subtly and faded away to silence.
Deliberate footsteps trod slowly past Antenna. Very slowly. Ceremoniously. Then she heard a rusty squeak
that sent shivers down her spine, down to the deepest recesses of her ancestral
memories.
A humanÕs sardonic tones snarled an announcement over the
public address system. A scattering of polite applause rose in response. Then
the spotlights swung over to a man slow-marching through the room. The man had
a large bird on his arm. The bird was wearing a tight-fitting leather hood.
This was the bird that squeaked like a rusty door hinge. The flinty voice on
the PA barked on and on and the audience reacted and clapped and roared. The
man removed the birdÕs hood with a flourish. The watching creatures could see
it was a peregrine falcon. One of the rarest birds in
the world.
The customers, waiters and kitchen staff applauded.
Antenna slunk back under the tablecloth and shook miserably.
She was thankful she had already vomited. She felt empty. She almost felt sorry
for the peregrine. She was pretty slim pickings. Lucky
for Antenna, she was still hidden. For the time being.
However thin Antenna was, the peregrine would know the difference between a
nylon-fur covered radio-controlled puppet and a real live numbat. That was for
sure.
The man let loose the powerful bird. It took to the air, its
squeaky voice serrating the silence. Antenna cowered under the table.
The peregrineÕs wings fanned the air so forcefully one guest
had to run to save his toupee from falling into the mosaic pool.
The peregrine spotted the model numbat and circled in the
air above it. The audience laughed and clapped lightly. There they all were,
wishing, taking bets and hoping É Would it be sooner? Or later?
Oh, sooner!
The falcon swooped down to the artificial numbat. It was so
fast; so unbelievably fast. The birdÕs claws ripped into the numbatÕs back. It
shook the animal until its mechanics were exposed. A spring and a bolt
clattered onto the floor, as the peregrine hefted the model and carried it up
to the ceiling.
As the audience roared its approval, the peregrine realised
the puppet was inedible. Without pausing in its flight, it dropped the
flopping, broken thing. The puppet smashed into a table of portly men and X-ray
women. They pushed back their seats as metal cogs and triggers flew towards
them. There were screams, flailing arms and overturned wine glasses.
The peregrine, wheeling around above of the dining room,
looked directly at Antenna. The vivid beam of hunter and hunted connected
between them. Antenna, filled with terror, ripped her vision away from it. She
ducked down behind the tablecloth and knew it was only a matter of seconds
before the great bird sought her out.
Then, Antenna heard the familiar hiss of the little steam
car. SheÕd never been so pleased to see anyone in her life, as Zip drove
straight under the table. Antenna leapt into the passenger seat and ducked her
head as they drove out crazily from under the cloth and careered between the
tables. The hubbub of a shocked restaurant easily covered the hiss and purr of
the steam powered carÕs engine.
The peregrine now had Antenna in his sights. He soared,
following the red car with his eagle eye.
Then there was a huge crash.
The rear restaurant doors flew from their hinges as the tank
lurched forward into the room.
Hod drove the metallic car, shaped like a giant stag beetle,
straight into the middle of the set and then into the most expensive looking
camera and sound gear. The tracks of the tank crunched into video recorders and
the mixing board. But still the tank rolled on through the restaurant, crushing
tables and chairs like twigs, people blowing like leaves around it.
Antenna was horrified at the destruction but was powerless
to stop the tank. There was nothing to do except cringe in her seat, as the car
zoomed towards the exit, and watch Hod on the rampage.
Zip shook her head at the damage and worried that there were
too many people who could get hurt. She reached into her back pocket and pulled
out a tiny digital sound system. She stuck it onto the front of the car and
turned the volume up. A blare of emergency bells shattered the air and an
electronic voice, that Ektek had produced, hoping the translation was correct,
yawped sternly: Warning. Evacuate. Evacuate. You will be evacuated. Please move
away. Please move away from the building. Evacuate. Evacuate. You will be
evacuated.
Most of the customers had already left by this time, running
and screaming in undignified haste, shatoosh waving behind them like flags. The
film crew stood en guarde, ready to protect their precious equipment with their
lives.
Although Zip was driving fast, Antenna was still out in the
open and she knew that the falcon could just pluck her out of her seat any time
it liked. She watched as another bird streaked up to the ceiling. It was Crawf.
The palm cockatoo confronted the Nemesis as they flew fast around the room,
performing an extraordinary aerial display.
Crawf screeched at the peregrine—Flee! Flee! Or it could have been—Free! Free! Or even—Fee!
Fee! Whatever it was, the bird of prey heard him and swooped down to the
level of humans and out of the door into the real world.
Back on the ground, Hod did a completely unnecessary and
very wide three-point turn. The staff and camera crewÕs concern for property
suddenly faded as interest in their own safety took over and they scattered in
panic. Seeing the humans dive for cover, Zip screeched to a halt next to the
camera. She jumped out of the car and struggled with the holographic equipment,
trying to tip it over. Antenna jumped out to help her and they managed to heave
the whole thing, tripod and all, into the back of the car.
Zip disengaged the blaring speaker and mp3 player from the
top of the bonnet. She placed it next to the fallen control desk, which took up
the announcement. It blared, even louder than before: Evacuate! Evacuate! You will
be evacuated!
As they jumped back into the car and drove off, Zip
chuckled—This is good, very good.
With that hologram I never need to be in my enclosure again!
Antenna thought about this, knowing she didnÕt have the
choice. She could never go back to her enclosure. She felt homeless and out of
place. She looked over at Zip—It is
a freedom of a sort, isnÕt it.
—Good as
weÕre going to get today.
Hod continued his mad parade, driving over tables and
smashing the termite nest into a pulp of painted polystyrene. Leaving the
biodiesel engine running, he stopped the tank in the middle of the now empty
room and jumped down from the driverÕs seat. He rushed over to a corner of the
restaurant and fiddled with something.
Bash had made his way down from the lighting grid above and
was getting into the tank by the time Hod got back. Crawf was already inside.
Zip drove the car through the tank door and heaved on the handbrake. She and
Antenna slammed the tank door shut and shouted out to Hod they were ready to
go. Hod revved the engine. They took off out of the empty restaurant, driving
over everything in their way. It was a bumpy ride.
Mission accomplished.
The tank had not been built to be a speed machine. So Hod
drove it to the rear of the building where Helmut was ready in the airship; the
winch lines lowered and prepared. The tank drove into place in the airshipÕs
shadow. Hod hopped around the outside of the tank, attaching the wires to the
frame before re-entering. Zip followed him, checking each connection was fast
before she too finally climbed aboard. From the tankÕs controls Hod radioed to
the airship—Uptek? WeÕre ready.
Over.
HelmutÕs voice replied through the radio fuzz—Commence tank lift. Over.
The tank rose slowly to the airshipÕs docking and cargo
area. Once the winching was complete and the tank was secure, the creatures
came out of the cargo hold and went up to the bridge where Helmut piloted the
craft.
—Thanks, driver,
said Zip.
Helmut didnÕt appear to hear her. He was concentrating
intently as he activated the airshipÕs forward movement. Beads of sweat had
gathered around his bony headpiece.
The airship rose and turned away from the city centre. Crawf
said—I went into the kitchens to
see if I could help any of the animals in there and theyÕd all gone.
—Yeah, said Hod.
—You?
—Yeah, I
set them free. Before I drove into the dining room.
Antenna turned her full attention to Hod—What did you think you were doing?
—Saving
you.
—Snap, said Zip who had been the one to pack Antenna into her
little car and who had driven Antenna to the exit at the very time Hod made his
smashing entrance.
Hod wasnÕt bothered—I know that now.
—But why? asked Antenna—I donÕt understand what made you move? You
were supposed to wait until Helmut signalled you.
—I only
had vision. I didnÕt know. I was worried.
—Did you
have to drive all over tables like that?
—I
couldnÕt get through to the airship. I didnÕt know the switch had been made. I
had to get in there to rescue you. I thought heÕd got you.
—Even so,
you didnÕt need to destroy everything, did you?
—DidnÕt I?
—Oh,
Hoddy. Considerate to a fault.
As they floated away in the airship, Ektek watched the
restaurant building recede silently. A group of humans stood some distance
away, apparently still obeying the evacuation order.
Safely in the bridge, Bash asked—Is the video going to be enough? To convince the Zoo?
TheyÕre going to have to be a lot more vigilant, arenÕt they?
—Hullo?
Until someone else comes along, greedier and with another atrocious idea, said Crawf—Sure
they will.
Hod held out a small device in his little paw for their
inspection. The creatures looked at it. They looked at him questioningly. He
smiled and said—ItÕs a little
something I prepared earlier.
—What for?
—Glad you
asked, Bash. Hod pressed a button
on the device. There was a dull boom from far off. Hod said—Good, isnÕt it.
The airship seemed to shift a bit, drifting away from the
force of the explosion. The creatures looked out of the window as a pall of
smoke billowed from the crushed restaurant. There was a stunned silence. Hod
had finally firebombed Last Chance to Eat, just as heÕd been threatening all
along.
Bash burst into tears, which is never good for a frog. Salty
water really stings that fragile skin.
—Hoddy.
Antenna said. She nearly cried too but instead, clenched her jaw and
said—Hod. You are no longer Ektek.
—You said.
You, Antenna, said Hod—You said you wanted to pay them back. For Min.
—That was
only in the heat of the moment. I wanted to stop them, but not this, this
wanton destruction, this waste, thisÉ
—No-one was in the building.
—But Hod,
we canÕt keep fighting on this level. There are too many humans. They have all
the power.
—Not all the time, they donÕt.
—Their
whole purpose is to conquer. They have conquered all of nature. They have
conquered all of us.
—Not me,
they havenÕt.
—Hod. The
only thing we can do is try to educate them.
—Is that
right?
—Yes!
Educate and win them over. WeÕre all together in this.
—ThatÕs
the only way we can survive, surely? said Crawf.
—ThatÕs the only
way for any of us, said Zip.
—Are you saying
that all creatures could live together with homo-sapiens
in a tolerant and understanding global community?
—Yes. I
am. Antenna gestured to the rest of the
team—We all are. What else is
there?
Hod threw back his head and laughed. He laughed and laughed
and his guffaws were fuelled by grief.
Helmut alone paid no attention to the renegade. The
cassowary was caught up in his own turmoil as he secretly struggled with inner
voices. Was he breaking into internal pieces? Was he hearing voices from
another dimension? He had become aware that Ektek was one reality and these
sounds and words he heard were another. It was beginning to frighten him. More
than frighten. He was distraught as he piloted the airship into the Zoo grounds
but he did an excellent job of hiding his anxiety from his fellow squad
members.
V
The other Ektek creatures were troubled as they tied up
outside the cavern. As he was leaving through the cargo hold, Hod turned to
shout at his erstwhile team—You can
keep going with your cute little actions and reports to the Department,
expecting things to change. Me? IÕm going to make things happen. IÕm going to
make those humans sit up and take notice. You just watch me.
His dramatic exit was spoiled when he pushed past Antenna intending
to climb down the rope ladder to the ground. He paused when he saw the distress
in her face—IÕm sorry, Antenna. I
know IÕve let you down but I have to go.
—You donÕt
have to É
—Anti, I
feel trapped. So hemmed in, so powerless, in this damn zoo. Maybe IÕll be able
to spread my wings, make a difference É
—You donÕt
have wings.
—Oh, shut
up. His manner changed abruptly and he
asked her—Why donÕt you come with
me?
—I canÕt
do that!
—Why not?
You canÕt live in the zoo anymore. YouÕre free. You can go anywhere you like.
—I know
you think Ektek is a waste of time but I donÕt. We can help. I donÕt know how
many and I donÕt know for how long ... If I can help just one then thereÕs
still hope for all us weird furry creatures É
—All creatures great and small É
—Go ahead
and smirk all you like. I canÕt save the entire planet from being overrun by
cows and sheep but I might be able to make someone think É
—Fine.
IÕll go my way and youÕll go yours and weÕll agree to differ and weÕll never
see each other again.
—Good.
—Remember,
Anti. IÕm the one who chose freedom. You didnÕt. YouÕre a prisoner as much as
ever. YouÕre possessed by Ektek and you've made Ektek
into a dungeon. He took off,
climbing down the ladder, bounding onto the ground and away from the zoo.
—Bye, Hoddy.
Survive! Antenna came to stand next to Zip at the hold entrance. They
watched him leaping crazily toward the city streets
—Good riddance,
said Zip.
Antenna glanced sideways at her.
A tear rolled down ZipÕs face. She roughly brushed it
away—Old wally
shit head.
VI
Bash had hung back in the cockpit and watched the bent
cassowary with concern—Are you
okay, Helmut?
Helmut managed to nod and spoke with great difficulty—IÕll just get on with a few things here. Go
on ahead.
—More
hands and all that, offered Bash—After all, IÕm the one with the hands É
—Go on, mate. IÕll be fine.
—Are you
sure?
—Sure. See
you in a minute.
Bash left the bridge uncertainly. He was still worried about
Helmut when he saw Antenna and Zip just about to climb down the ladder. He hopped
up to the numbat—Antenna? ItÕs
Helmut.
Antenna, remembering MinÕs warning, was immediately
concerned—Where is he?
—The
bridge. As she turned to go back into
the airship, Bash added—Antenna?
HeÕs not in a good way.
—Like
what?
—Like, I
donÕt know, in his mind?
—His mind?
—Like,
heÕs disturbed. When we were travelling, it was as though there was some kind
of interruption in his head.
—Thanks,
Bash. IÕll go.
—I donÕt
think he wants a lot of attention.
—ThatÕs
okay, IÕll come with you, Bash,
said Zip—You go, Antenna. HeÕll
talk to you.
Antenna turned back towards the bridge as the frog and the fruit-bat left the airship.
Helmut held himself together until he was sure all the crew
had left the craft. Then he crumpled and broke down, crying at the controls in
the airship—Why canÕt you leave me
alone? He shouted to no one, to some kind of invisible tormenter. There was
no reply and the cassowary drooped, desperate, in the pilotÕs seat.
Antenna quietly sat down in the co-pilotÕs chair and watched
him struggle with himself. After a time, sensing someone was there,
Helmut lifted his head to look at her—Antenna.
We made it.
—Thanks to
you.
—Luck.
Sheer luck.
—Helmut.
IÕm going to have to relieve you of flying duties.
—You
canÕt.
—I can. I
have.
—IÕm the
one with the experience. Who else can do it? You rely on me.
—I do.
ThereÕs no one else with your knowledge but you canÕt pilot the airship until
we find out what is wrong with it.
—With me,
you mean.
—Helmut.
You are EktekÕs greatest asset, our wisest warrior. YouÕve seen it all before.
—You mean,
IÕm past it.
—No. I
mean you deserve a rest while we sort this out.
—Foolish
young kids. I told them not to go. They didnÕt listen to me. I knew what would
happen. That Hod. HeÕs just the same. HeÕs going to get himself killed, just
like my son. You need me, Antenna. You canÕt retire me like thisÉ
—IÕm not
retiring you, Helmut. Just taking your advice. We need some time to recover.
Take stock. We all do.
—Without
Ektek, I am nothing, said Helmut, slumped
and muttering—IÕve got nothing to
live for. Nothing.
—Helmut,
please donÕt say that.
—Then you
tell me, young numbat. What is the point, then? WhatÕs the damn point of being
alive?
Antenna watched the horizon out of the airship window. She
watched the shroud of smoke wisp across the densely crowded cityscape. Was that
a peregrine falcon flying off into the distance?
Ektek was in the business of saving lives. Well, theyÕd just
saved AntennaÕs life. That gave her something to live for, didnÕt it?
DidnÕt it?
Epilogue
In a clearing, near a river, mud was churned into a circle.
Grater, Asunder, Jata, Damura and Shining Teeth walked slowly, closely
following each other, round and round and round, their scaly legs and feet
pounding, sinking, dragging, clawing into the sludge.
The reptiles continued their march of grief long into the
night. Their eyes glowed with crocodile intensity.
Jata stumbled. They were all tired.
Asunder tripped and fell. The rest of the harem continued to
walk over her, shakily. They were exhausted. Each stumbled in her turn and finally,
collapsed to the ground.
Knowing they could go no further, they opened their mouths
and sang out long eerie wails from the very base of their beings. They were keening
for their lost husband.
The keening sailed through the air, lying like smoke over
the river. The noise was incredible. The land shuddered in sympathy. The tiny
creatures of the riverbed listened. It was an age-old tale of farewell.
GraterÕs voice began to shake.
Damura coughed.
Slowly the crocodiles could sound out no more. Their grief
was spent, the keening choked and they slept where they fell.
Shining Teeth was the last to close her marble eyes.
The next day by the river a brolga pair danced in the rising
sun. They flew their ballet high into the yellow dawn. The sun gleamed hot over
the brown mud and sparse vegetation. The agitated sounds of river life wound
through the humidity.
The crocodiles stirred and shook their heads from side to
side. They dragged themselves to the riverÕs edge to drink.
Shining Teeth slowly rose. She knew she must lead them to
find food. Then she must lead them to find a new mate, someone who would be capable
of protecting them all.
There was something else, too. Something even more
fundamental. She joined the rest of the harem by the water. She raised her
strength to croak—We will avenge
his death.
—Yes, murmured the harem together—Yes, yes, yes É
Their familiar lives were lost now. Everything had changed.
There was no male in their river. They must seek
elsewhere. This river was bordered by cleared and fertile farmland. There was
no place without homo-sapiens. They must travel and
they must encounter humans. But this was mere irritation in their plans. They
were focused on their main purpose. It was time the crocodiles fought back.
—We must destroy
them, said Shining Teeth.
—Yes, yes, yes É
The sun rose higher and grew more dazzling. The heat pressed
down on the earth. The five females moved inexorably across farms, factories
and roads. They intended to find Ektek and they intended to punish: maim, hurt
and kill. Their group mind had decided.
The crocodile harem intended to obliterate Ektek.