Well. At least she now knew they were in the right place. But why were they here if a bomb was going to be going off?
She paused for a moment, looking back at the two men who were watching her eagerly. She smiled and waved coyly before making her way down to the Premier's box. She had to play out the charade, at least for a little while.
"You idiot! You're going to get us into trouble!"
Good. They were still in earshot. Pam stopped, bending over to check her shoe, as if she had a stone lodged in it.
"We'll be in trouble anyway if we don't find her."
"No sign of her yet?"
"Nope. I was just checking the stairs when I started speaking to that one."
"Well keep your mouth shut and your eyes open."
She'd heard enough. Standing up again, she proceeded down to the box.
Who were they looking for? Was someone of importance supposed to be arriving? Maybe the bomb was designed to kill someone in particular. The Premier? But that was a man. So who was ‘she’? Unless…
* * *
Stacey was lost. Once he had strayed from the actual back stage area into the change rooms, he knew he was out of his depth. He had already checked the sets, the people, and the loading docks. They had all come up empty.
He wasn't even aware of the changing rooms until he opened an out of the way stage door and stepped into a crowded corridor.
There were names listed on so many doors, he was surprised how many people this place was meant to hold back stage alone.
Still, each room was a potential hiding place for a bomb. He had checked several already. A lot were still empty. Being an hour from curtain up, he though that was a bit odd. Maybe the talent had gotten lost in the maze of corridors back here.
There was no sign of a bomb, or any sort of casing that could house a bomb at all. Most of the rooms were either filled with costumes, people or completely empty.
He approached the next door on his left and knocked gently. There was no reply so he opened the door.
There were several shrill screams as a number of scantily clad women hurried to cover up.
"Oops. Sorry. My apologies. I really am sorry."
He hurriedly shut the door and turned around to the one on the opposite side and nearly bumped into Trent Peerson himself.
"Holy…"
The tall man, whom he had only seen in the photograph, was stalking along the corridor, his eyes scanning the crowd.
Not having seen Stacey before, or at least he hoped, Stacey continued to move confidently across the corridor. Once Peerson had passed, he moved in behind him, trying to remain inconspicuous.
But what was this prick doing here? Shouldn't he be holed up somewhere away from the bomb?
Maybe he knew Russell knew.
Why were there always so many maybes in this business? There were never any straight answers. The same with journalism, really. No one could ever give a straight answer. Always the convoluted babble. Even if it's a question on the weather. Stacey knew he should be used to it, but found it hard to resign himself to the negatives of life. Though he had heard one politician amazingly give the following response to a simple question as to how he found the weather during his holiday in France:
'Well, according to the meteorology board in Venezuela, I have been informed that the effects of the continental weather patterns in Europe may adversely have a positive effect on the farming markets in China.'
A load of hog wash, no matter which country you come from.
But it paid reasonably well.
It still didn't answer his question, though. What was Peerson doing back stage when a bomb was set to go off in who knows how long?
Then he heard the man speak.
"Where the devil are you?"
This was his chance to get some answers, "Have you lost someone, Sir?"
Peerson turned on him, his anger and frustration very clear from the distance between them.
"What's it to you, you little piece of pommy shit?"
The corridor went silent. All the eyes turned to glare at the man who had spoken. And with his height, he stood out like a sore thumb.
Stacey smiled, "Not really a good idea, sir. Australia Day is the celebration of multi-culturalism in Australia. That sort of attitude doesn’t go down too well."
Peerson bent down so only Stacey could hear what he had to say and there was no doubting what he said as he said it slowly and concisely, "Get out of my face or you’ll regret ever coming to this God forsaken country."
Well, now he definitely wasn't going to get any straight answers. So Stacey continued to follow the prick at a safe distance as he continued on his way down the corridor, continually scanning the crowd around him.
* * *
It was nearing eleven thirty. The doors would be opening soon; thousands of people would pour into the auditorium, like sand through an hour glass. Except you’d be hard pressed to turn this flow back around. Russell could sense the excitement in the air. He could also feel the temperature in the foyer rising to about forty degrees centigrade, even with the air-conditioning.
Time for a little cool change, he thought.
With a slight nudge, he beckoned a few cold currents to sweep in through the glass doors to sweep over the crowd. He could hear a number of sighs as it caught up to some of the more elderly people. Everyone else simply kept talking, or yelling.
It was paradoxical. The louder one person talked to be heard over everyone else, the louder everyone else talked until it was a wrestling match to see who could out scream who. It was crowds like this that really got up Russell’s nose. Being somewhat claustrophobic, he had problems with large crowds. Though, with his new abilities, especially the one he had just used, he found it easier to cope.
It was hard to see anyone in this crowd, or anything that looked suspicious. There were just too many people, a lot of whom were taller than him. He could see them clearly enough.
Sighing in resignation he looked back toward the entry into the foyer. And spotted one tall person in particular.
“Kristen!”
It was no good. She couldn’t hear over the noise.
What was she doing here? He had told her about the bomb. Was she trying to get herself killed? He didn’t even know when the damn thing was going to go off.
“Kristen,” He knew it was useless. She was being sucked deeper into the crowd and further away toward another entrance.
As far as he could tell, she didn’t look too happy. In fact she looked a little worse for wear as well. Still managing to look amazing, however.
Maybe she had talked to her dad. Maybe she had convinced him to stop the bomb. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
“Oh for goodness sake,” He began to make his own way after her. He had to find out what was going on. Was the bomb going to go off? Had her father changed his mind? Had he lied to her and she was here simply to prove a point.
“Back off, loser!”
“I’m sorry,” He tried pushing around another way.
“Hey, watch it! We’re all going to get in, you know. Just be patient!”
It was no good. People were blocking his every move.
“Bugger me blue.”
And then the doors opened.
He was nearly swept under foot as the crowd began to move along with the uprising of a choral sigh of relief and appreciation.
He managed to keep his footing and follow the crowd along. There was no fighting against it. He noticed they were checking tickets at the door. He didn’t have one, but from the look of how many people pushing through without being checked, it appeared he wasn’t the only one.
So he pushed harder. He had to get to Kristen and find out what was going on.
He watched her head bob its way through the other end of the crowd, getting pulled further away and toward another gate. Damn it, he was going to lose her.
Hopefully Pam would spot her. She’d seen her in the photo. Maybe she’d recognise
her, pull her aside and work everything out. She had a knack of doing that it seemed.
He reached the door, receiving a couple of knocks, but finding the extra padding underneath was useful in more ways than one. He nearly laughed when he bounced around into people, like bumper cars. He barely felt a thing, though everyone else was giving him dirty looks.
Trying to keep his fun under control, he focussed on his support and the matter at hand. There was too much at stake to buggerise around.
He was swept inside, straight past the door ushers and finally found himself in relatively open air. Although it was enclosed, the auditorium was far more airy than the foyer. He could actually see the swirls of silver highlighted against the dark ceiling dancing to and fro with the motion of the air-conditioner. Good, he thought. I have plenty of firepower.
People stopped pushing him forward and started to fan out to the sides, trying to find a decent seat. Most of the lower seating had been nabbed already. Russell stood back from the door and tried to survey the crowd, hoping to spot anyone he knew.
It wasn’t until he looked over at the Premier’s box, traditionally kept aside and empty for the late coming delegates that he spotted Pam having a heated discussion with an usher.
He needed to get to her.
Pushing on with the crowd, he circled down the stairs and back up to the box until he reached Pam and the man she was talking to. She was remaining calm, almost laughing at the situation while he was turning a bright scarlet as he explained the seating was reserved.
“I’m awfully sorry for my sister,” He took Pam by the elbow and leaned in closer to the usher, “Medical condition. Doctors say it’s only temporary after the crash.”
The man froze, his mouth open ready to respond. Thought better of it and apologised.
Russell merely smiled and led Pam away.
“I’m surprised he fell for that one,” Pam muttered.
“Kristen’s here.”
“What?” She was incredulous.
“I saw her. She must be inside by now.”
Scanning the crowd for herself, Pam muttered, “So that’s who they’re looking for.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your two friends. The ones from the cathedral you were telling me about. They’re here looking for some woman. I’d say it’s her. She must have had a talk with daddy and threatened to come here to stop him setting off the bomb.”
“Bomb?”
They both turned to see a young woman wide eyed and staring at them. She vanished into the crowd in moments but her concern was all too clear.
“We better keep our voices down. A panic would be worse than a-”
Russell nodded his agreement.
“Where’s Stacey?”
“I haven’t seen him for ages. I’ve been out here looking around, using my TK to do a fairly thorough sweep of the auditorium and can’t find anything. He’s out back somewhere, still looking around.”
“We can’t let the show start without finding out what is going on.”
“Well, I don’t think the thing will go off while your friends are here. And if she is here too, I have a feeling Daddy won’t be far behind.”
Looking at the hordes pushing through the doors and up the stairs toward the middle and back rows, Russell couldn’t help thinking of them as ants or mice. And if they didn’t do something soon, they’d all be going down with the ship.
“There she is!”
Russell pivoted to try and see where Pam was pointing.
By the stage. There was no missing her. Everyone else was seated while Kristen was making her way toward the central steps that lead directly onto the brightly coloured stage.
“She’s going to show herself to her father. Let him know she’s here.”
“She could get arrested,” Russell said, “If she’s carted away then there would be nothing stopping Peerson from going ahead.”
“Not if we can stop the authorities.”
“How so?”
“Follow me,” Pam started to stride down the stairs, taking them two at a time and Russell hurried closely behind, “We have to reach her before she gets up onto the stage. That way Peerson will see who she’s with and we can give her a little defence from the police.”
Taking the long way around due to some wheel chairs that had been set up in the isles, the two heroes hurried toward Kristen as fast as they could. They found they were actually able to manage a jog. There was no need to be inconspicuous now. Besides, there were plenty of techies running around doing last minute checks. They’d be like one of the crowd.
“Kristen!”
The girl faulted. So did Russell. That was Deep-Thr- Peerson.
He had appeared out one of the stage doors beside the stage. One, Russell assumed, was meant for the entrance of some of the performers. The doors swung open again, narrowly missing the first man and revealing a second. Stacey.
Russell had to get her attention, “Kristen!”
She turned at the sound of his voice.
She was only a few feet from the central stairs.
Pam continued her approach, slower now, keeping an eye on Peerson.
“Oh I see you’ve found her,” Stacey said. Peerson, for the second time, turned on him. “Get your foreign little arse out of my face!”
“Gladly!”
He grabbed at Peerson, taking hold of his arm. He then proceeded to twist both it and the taller man around into an arm lock, so as his arm was lifted up against his back.
Peerson called out in pain as Stacey moved him forward.
“Leave him alone!” Kristen cried. Her voice full of emotion, but it didn’t seem quite sure it knew which emotion to be.
She wasn’t coping too well with the situation. That much was obvious. Russell didn’t blame her.
Pam was nearly to her when the girl started to back away, eyeing the strange woman warily.
Things were going really weirdly, as far as Russell was concerned.
By now a couple of the audience members had started to take interest in what was going on.
Russell had to try again, “Kristen. She’s a friend. You can trust her.”
“No! I can’t trust any of you! I can’t even trust him. My own dad!”
Peerson, who had been manoeuvred around the side of the stage toward the other members of the drama that was unfolding by the stage, looked up at his daughter. Russell could see he was hurting, both physically and in other ways. Obviously he hadn’t meant for her to find out. And from what Russell had learnt on the ‘date’, they had been close. There was no repairing this sort of tear in a family.
“You can trust me, can’t you?” Russell tried.
She shook her head and jumped up onto the stage.
This got the authorities’ attention. From the side-lines a couple started to move forward, unsure whether this was part of a pre-show display or not. One of the sponsors was Relationships Australia, of course. Maybe they were getting their two bits in.
“Back off!”
A new voice, followed by a bright green flare of light. Stacey was knocked backward as it connected with his chest.
'How would my padding hold up against that?' Russell thought.
Peerson broke free and rushed toward his daughter.
Not if I can help it, Russell nearly said. But it sounded too stupid so he merely ran and jumped up onto the stage, between father and daughter.
Both Dufus and Pipsqueak appeared from the crowd. Some of whom had stopped moving just to see what the light show was about.
“Where is it?” Russell yelled.
Peerson stopped, looked around at the crowd and then at the heroes before smiling nonchalantly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about what had Kristen so upset.”
“We had an argument, that’s all.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Dad! Stop it!”
“What? I haven’t-”
“Stop all this
bullshit!”
Her father was speechless, as was the crowd now. That kind of language was rarely used in a community based production like this. There were children and elderly present.
And then the earth began to quake. Russell could feel the suspension in the stage working to its peak efficiency, but the audience wasn’t so lucky.
Russell turned to see the cause of the disturbance charging straight at him and nearly lost control of himself.
Dufus was not just a big man. He was like an elephant, and to see one of those heading your way, you knew you were in deep trouble.
“Uh-uh,” Pam said ever so calmly.
And in an instant, Dufus went flying. He somehow tripped over mid air and somersaulted upward and forward, landing hard on his back toward the rear of the stage.
Boy did that woman have power.
She leapt up onto the stage herself and headed toward the giant brute.
“Don’t even think about it,” Stacey called to Pipsqueak who was raising his hands toward his female companion.
“Fine,” and he shot a bolt of green energy at Stacey instead.
Stacey countered it with a small fireball that met it midway and exploded into a shower multi-coloured sparks and accompanied by a round of applause from the audience.
“Kristen. Come over here. We don’t have time for this.”
“How much time do we have then, Mister Peerson?”
Peerson ignored Russell as he tried to reach out to his daughter, “Kristen, please.”
“Stop the bomb.”
She said it so simply, but her delivery captivated the whole front seven rows.
“Since when did the Greens get a part in the Australia Day Concerts,” one little old lady in the front row asked her neighbour.
“I can’t. Eryn programmed it. I don’t know how.”
“Then I’d suggest you get him to do it,” Russell informed the man. Peerson wasn’t looking too good himself. He was looking almost green and very pale, as if he were about to throw up.
“Will you shut up! This is between me and my daughter!”
“Yeah, let him speak!” One audience member cried out, receiving a few laughs of his own.
At the back of the stage, Russell was aware Dufus was now back on his feet and looking none to happy. But Pam was there to head him off. It looked ridiculous. Such a small and very attractive woman against a bull of a man.
But that wasn’t going to be a problem as Russell was about to see.
Dufus lashed out with both hands in an attempt to grab hold of her. But the air around her flashed a bright purple.