Chapter 10

  A leader is a dealer in hope.

  -Napoleon Bonaparte

  “He’s scaling that cliff face like a bloomin’ gecko!” chuckled Charlie. “Climbing vertical surfaces is obviously his forté.”

  “Building a sniper ladder was a good decision,” agreed John. “I wonder if the others will be able to utilize it though. They don’t look like they’ve got sufficient upper body strength...”

  “Hang on... he’s attached his makeshift pulley to the top bar and he’s winding the sniper ladder around it... Clever cookie,” murmured Rod.

  “Now I get what he’s doing!” said Ryan with a hint of admiration. “He’s turned it into an instant hoist up for the other two civilians and their gear.”

  “That’s gonna save them a couple of hours of hard climbing,” added Mike. “I must remember that.”

  “I’ve always wondered what that bit of rusty metal was for. Did you know John?” asked Rod.

  “Yes... Although we haven’t used it since Dave’s era. Advanced survival training was part of his leadership course. Participants had to build makeshift components to utilize certain survival equipment. I remember one bloke was particularly skilled at it. I saw him carve a pulley out of a lump of wood one time. Took him all of ten minutes. He had Dave ogle-eyed with admiration...”

  Charlie broke into a slow grin and thumped John playfully.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking John boy?”

  John rubbed his chin pensively.

  “Hold the fort for a while Choc. I just want to follow up on our hunch...”

  Ω

  I awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking on the free gas barbeques down on the foreshore. The laughter of children playing on the swings. Bacon spitting. Eggs singing.

  Pedro handed me an industrial strength coffee.

  I stared in astonishment at Katja. She smiled back gently.

  “You managed all this and you didn’t wake me to help you?”

  “You seemed tired Dochter.”

  I was tired. My body ached and I really needed a shower. I’d scrubbed cleanish in the public loos the previous night. Grateful for the darkness.

  I sank down at the picnic table sipping the caffeine. My slender fingers petted Missy. Blue eyes stared back at me.

  Holy Spirit... I need you direction. Show me whether to stay with them or leave...

  Ω

  “You made scaling that cliff face look easy!” smiled Maya.

  “I’ve had a lot of practice. Dad and Mum are both into mountaineering.”

  “How’d you know how to make that rusty gadget work anyway?”asked Jake. “I’ve never even seen one.”

  “It’s similar to the set-up they used during the gold-rush in Alaska...”

  “Except instead of pulling up gold-bearing dirt you pulled us up!” laughed Jake.

  “It must have been hard yakka even with the gadget,” ventured Maya.

  “Nah. The pulley halved the load. And getting you guys up the cliff-face was like second nature. It just felt like another one of Dad’s drills...”

  “What drills?”

  “When I was a teenager Dad taught me all these rescue and survival techniques... Knots... bush-craft... improvising when you haven’t got the right gear. And he insisted that I develop upper body strength alongside him. And didn’t let up on me until I could haul him up a cliff face without assistance.”

  “I wonder why?” smiled Maya.

  “Maybe he thought you might need to know rescue stuff because Alaska’s so prone to earthquakes,” ventured Jake.

  “Maybe. I’ve never really thought about it. It seemed important to him and I enjoyed the father-son time together. So I just went along with him...”

  “Hey Zac. That speck in the sky over there... Is it a chopper?” pointed Maya.

  “Ah ha. By the look of it, it’s heading for the same base station we’re heading for.”

  “Maybe it’s Mad Max.”

  “Maybe. He mentioned he’s based at Malmstrom and the chopper came from that direction.”

  “Maybe we should signal him with a mirror to get his attention, then ask him for a lift to the base station. Since he’s in the area.”

  “I thought you said you were never gonna get in another chopper with Mad Max ever again!” ragged Jake.

  “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll ride with Mad Max any day after this. I’d even ride all the way back to Malmstrom dangling from a cable like Tarzan.”

  “You mean Jane!” grinned Jake.

  Zac laughed warmly.

  “To tell the truth Maya, I’m tempted to signal the chopper myself. The only thing holding me back is the thought that if the chopper came out here from Malmstrom it’s obviously on some mission. And I don’t want to interfere with whatever the military blokes are up to. After all we’re just civilians. And it’s not like we need rescuing...”

  Ω

  Everyone looked skyward as the chopper circled then landed at Farliga Pass. The pilot shut down the engine and clambered out.

  “Gidday Max. We weren’t expecting you. What’s cooking?”

  “Ask them womenfolk of yours back at Malmstrom. They sent me here on a secret mission.”

  Max winked at John and walked over to the cherry tree then looked up.

  “Hey Zaccheus,” he yelled loudly. “Get down outta that tree and into my chopper. You’ve been deployed.”

  “Where to?” asked Ryan as he removed his headphones.

  “Malmstrom.

  Ryan slid nimbly down out of the tree.

  “How’d you know where I was?”

  “Bird’s eye view. What are ya doing up in Fiona’s favourite hidey hole anyway? Reading somethin’ naughty?”

  “I was just reading an old training manual from the ops room library.”

  “While you were listening to music?”

  “It’s a bloke called Bach. It helps me get lost in what I’m reading.”

  “Well get yer butt, yer book, and yer Bach-playing iPhone aboard.”

  “What about the rest of my things?”

  “Leave ‘em. You’re only deployed until sunset...”

  “Okay,” shrugged Ryan.

  Mike glanced at Max as Ryan boarded.

  “Can I catch a lift to Malmstrom too?”

  “Sure. Plenty of room.”

  “Ta. I just have to grab my bag. I’ll be right back.”

  Mike sprinted over to his room. Everyone’s eyes followed him.

  “Pity. I thought we were making headway,” murmured John.

  Charlie nodded sadly.

  “Need me to bring anything back on my return trip?” asked Max, breaking the sombre silence.

  “Hmmm... Another carton of bacon and eggs wouldn’t go astray. Ryan eats enough for two and we’re expecting hungry company tomorrow as well.”

  Mike reappeared. Everyone extended their hands to farewell him.

  “Come back for that nicky swim,” whispered Charlie, hugging Mike tightly.

  Mike felt an irresistible sense of mateship exuding from Charlie.

  “I’ll think about it,” he replied shakily, as he climbed aboard the chopper.

  Ω

  I felt them arrive before I turned and saw them in the carpark..

  “Looks like we’ve got company,” said Pedro curiously.

  Everyone stared at the police car and the military jeep.

  “I’ve got to get out of here! Keep my things.”

  Dutchy read my panic-riddled features.

  “No time to run Dochter. Only enough time to hide.”

  “Where?”

  They all sprang into action. Within moments I was wearing a shawl and full-length wrap around skirt. Someone removed my chic black wig. I was faintly aware of Petrina’s astonished expression as my blonde hair tumbled out wild and free. Before I had time to protest, someone else put a red gypsy scarf over my hair. My arms were adorned with bracelets. Someone else slipped a ring on my wedding finger.

  Pe
dro’s fingertips traced the contours of my face. He planted a soft kiss on my forehead. I didn’t know if I should respond but something primal inside made the decision for me. A gentle stroke of my tongue on his lips. A passionate, answering glitter in his eyes. My pulse jumped into top gear. Then he redirected his attention to the newcomers in feigned surprise.

  Ω

  Fiona met Ryan at the landing pad.

  “Glad you could come!” she beamed. “We’ve got three deliveries under way. Now’s a perfect time to consolidate what you’ve been reading.”

  Ryan’s jaw dropped open.

  “No catching flies now Captain!” she clucked.

  “You mean watch human babies coming out of women?”

  “Yes. Didn’t Max tell you why he was picking you up?”

  “Why it must have slipped my mind!” grinned Max, thumping his forehead melodramatically.

  Ryan wrinkled up his nose and looked at Mike for reassurance.

  “Have you ever had to deliver a baby on an assignment?”

  “Er... one. There was this woman hiding in a cave in Iraq... bullets flying around outside the whole time... It was a pretty surreal experience when the baby came out... All three of us were blubbering. The woman, the baby... and me.”

  Mike’s voice trailed off.

  “Well I guess if you’ve had to do it as an officer, then I should learn too. Even if I’m embarrassed... And a bit scared,” faltered Ryan.

  Mike said nothing and shouldered his bag.

  “So... are you heading off?” asked Ryan.

  “Yeah. I’ve got what I came for. Maybe I’ll see you ‘round...”

  “What do you mean you’ll see him around?” interposed Fiona. “He obviously considers you his mentor... Dave wouldn’t have walked away from a pup who’d admitted he was embarrassed and scared. He would have helped him through the experience.”

  Mike eyed Fiona coolly.

  “I dare you to join us Major,” said Fiona with twinkling eyes.

  Mike began a querulous reply and then stopped.

  “I s’pose I’ve got nothing better to do... The bus doesn’t leave until tonight anyway...”

  Ω

  “Gidday Sergeant.”

  “Gidday yerself Pedro.”

  “Er... Is there a law about kissing in the park?”

  “Maybe where you come from... But not in this country mate.”

  “Are these the people who were last seen with her?” demanded a heavily accented voice.

  I stiffened in terror. Pedro strengthened his supporting grip on me. It felt good. I desperately needed a powerful guy.

  “We’re looking for the young woman who was living in the hostel with you all.”

  Luan’s tone was dangerously dark.

  “What’s she done?” asked Pedro.

  “She’s stolen military secrets.”

  Tarapaca peered directly at me, a frown flickering across his features. Pedro sensed the imminent recognition in his eyes and said something in an unrecognizable language to Petrina.

  “Mama! I want to play on the swings,” said Petrina in Spanish.

  A tiny hand linked with mine and tugged me away from the group towards the playground.

  “Swing me, Mama!”

  Ω

  Fiona walked briskly down the corridor.

  “Mrs Jefferies is having her third child and she’s already about 6 cm dilated. It should be a complicated free delivery. Otherwise Mrs Rockwell is in labour, although she may be a few hours yet.”

  The sound of a woman sobbing and shrieking came from behind the closest door. Ryan drew a deep breath and glanced at Mike.

  “What’s going on in there?” asked Mike, looking at Fiona.

  “There’s another woman in labour. But that’s not going to be a suitable delivery for Ryan to sit in on...”

  “Why not?”

  Fiona rolled her eyes.

  “I brought him in to see the miracle of birth Major. Not to terrify him.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” asked Ryan with wide eyes.

  “Nothing medically. Rebecca MacIntyre is distressed because her husband is in Afghanistan at the moment and he didn’t make it home for the birth of their first baby...”

  “Is there some hospital rule stopping us going in there?” asked Mike.

  “No... But she’ll probably throw something at you if you do.”

  Mike grinned.

  “Come on mate,” he said, grabbing Ryan by the forearm. “The doc here is dreading this delivery. Let’s see if we can help her out, eh?”

  Ω

  I listened to them chatting in several different languages among themselves and appreciated what it must have been like back at Babel.

  My pursuers addressed them impatiently.

  “Why’s her car here if she’s not here?” asked Luan.

  “My wife and I bought her car,” explained Pedro.

  A soft curse.

  “And we bought her furniture,” said Prada.

  “She said she needed money for an airline ticket to America,” added Reece.

  “And she gave me her cat,” piped up their son Riley, holding up Missy.

  I couldn’t believe how genuine their storytelling sounded.

  “Her car’s worth a lot more than an airline ticket,” argued Tarapaca.

  “Not with that painted cross on its roof. You could see that from a satellite out in space!” jested Pedro.

  I realized with chagrin how they’d found me.

  Laughter from my rescuers. My pursuers stomped angrily back to their jeep.

  The police officer made apologetic eye contact with Dutchy and Katja, both of whom had said nothing.

  “Hey Pedro. Tell the old people that I’m sorry... That hounding young women and evicting good tenants isn’t the Australian way...”

  “We know Sergeant,” replied Dutchy in perfect English. “But don’t concern yourself. We’ll be alright...”

  Ω

  “Gidday Rebecca,” greeted Mike. “I came back from Afghanistan last week and Ryan here might be heading off there shortly. Fiona sent us in as substitute hubbies, since your hubby couldn’t make it back on time.”

  Rebecca reached out and grasped Mike’s hand. Mike squeezed it tightly and sat down next to her.

  “I was in Iraq when my wife went into labour and Julia felt just like you feel. So my father-in-law videoed the birth of our daughter and sent it to me. I still treasure that recording. Every time I watch it I feel like I was there with her at the birth. Even though I couldn’t be...”

  “Have you got a video recorder?” said Rebecca, sniffing up.

  “I’ve got my iPhone,” offered Ryan.

  “Well press record mate and we’ll introduce ourselves to Rebecca’s hubby. What’s his name anyway?”

  The pessimist complains about the wind.

  The optimist expects it to change. The realist adjusts the sails.

  -William Arthur Ward

  I kept swinging my tiny rescuer as I blinked back my tears of relief. Pedro’s shadow fell over me. My heart skipped a beat as his hand rested on my shoulder.

  “Catch me Mama!”

  I instinctively extended my arms. Petrina landed in them. Giggling and cuddling me.

  “It’s okay sweetie... They’ve gone. You don’t have to say that now.”

  My cheeks flamed as I made eye contact with Pedro.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. What will Petrina’s mother say about our indiscretion?” I whispered guiltily.

  To my astonishment Pedro dissolved into tears. He scooped up Petrina and walked slowly away from me towards the shoreline.

  They didn’t follow him. I was bewildered.

  “Pedro needs your comfort. You need his strength to get through this.”

  “No. It’s good he’s crying,” replied Dutchy.

  “Why?”

  “His wife Maria and their three sons were killed in the earthquake in Haiti. And he’s never all
owed himself to grieve.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Maria was our daughter. And Amos, Jude and Carlos were our treasured grandchildren...”

  “And I’ve rubbed salt into everyone’s wounds,” I whispered. “After you’ve all been so kind to me.”

  “Coming into contact with salt is painful if you’re wounded Dochter. But salt also brings healing.”

  Reece made a comment to Dutchy and Katja in their unknown tongue. Dutchy stifled a grin and bear-cuffed Reece like an out-of-line teenager. Reece laughed cheekily and sprinted off. I glanced at Katja.

  “What did Reece say?” I asked cautiously.

  “He said salt is also used to improve the flavour of that which is already good. And that you and Pedro are... good... for each other.”

  A smile danced at the corners of Dutchy’s mouth.

  “Did that lose something in the translation?” I said, making eye contact with Dutchy.

  Dutchy chuckled.

  “Reece thinks there’s lots of chemistry between you two.”

  I redirected my gaze towards Pedro’s distant figure.

  “Ken’kam’ken,” I whispered dreamily.

  Dutchy fired a penetrating stare in my direction. I wriggled self-consciously before reassuring myself that the chances that he understood my native tongue were a zillion to one. Only a handful of people outside of Alaska spoke Yupik.

  “Just talking to myself. Bad habit,” I mumbled in English.

  Dutchy said something to Katja. She showed no visible reaction.

  “Come Dochter. Let’s have morning tea together while we wait for Pedro and Petrina,” she said, steering me back towards the picnic table.

  Ω

  Fiona crept into the quiet labour room. The remaining occupants failed to notice her.

  “I’m scared. Everything feels so... strange,” said Rebecca shakily.

  “God designed women’s bodies to have babies...” coached Mike enthusiastically. “Think Rebecca... What’s the most demanding physical job you’ve done with Daniel?”

  “Helped him replace our car gearbox I guess.”

  “Right... well remember how your muscles were working hard and were trembling while you were helping him position that gearbox? And remember you were breathing hard with the exertion? But you weren’t scared, were you? It was just hard labour...Well this is just the same! Your muscles are working hard... trembling as they contract... bits are stretching to their fullest capacity... but it’s all normal... so you don’t have to be scared of what’s happening... Don’t fight it or tense up with fear... Put your energy into making those muscles work at getting bubs out... Come on... Send Daniel a huge, relaxed smile... Yeah. Much better! Isn’t she doing great Dan?”

  Silence. Rebecca’s body arched.

  “Mike! Something different just happened!” yelped Ryan. “Mike - there’s white stuff... and black stuff... and blood... on the pink stuff.”

  “The white stuff’s probably vernix... Is the black stuff hair?”

  “Hair? Yeah. It’s hair! I think the baby’s head’s crowned... Mike! I’ve forgotten everything I read in the book. Maybe we should go find Fiona.”

  “Don’t you go anywhere!” ordered Rebecca. “You’re recording this on your iPhone for Daniel, remember?”

  “Um... okay... But Mike, you’d better check this out. The head’s moving in and out. Whata we do?”

  “I’ll be just swap hats for a moment Becky... from substitute hubby back to Ryan’s mentor... You chat to Daniel for a minute.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t find Fiona?” repeated Ryan.

  “Nah. She’ll find us when she’s not busy. Besides, I’ve delivered heaps of kids!”

  Ryan glanced sideways at Mike but said nothing.

  “It’s happening now Daniel!” panted Becky.

  “What’s happening Mike? Is it a pushing contraction?” asked Ryan excitedly.

  “Hmmm... It looks like it to me. See... Her tummy’s trembling... Come on Becky... work with your body... Have a good rest right now and the next time you feel the urge to push, give it your best shot... Another one so soon? Whoops... This is happening faster than I expected... You must be close to fully dilated... It’s a bit different with does...”

  “Deer?” panted Becky.

  “Nah, mother goats. You know... when they’re giving birth... I was brought up on a farm and used to play vet when I was a teenager and deliver the baby kids.”

  Rebecca opened her mouth and went to protest, but changed the comment to a panting gasp as the contraction strengthened.

  “Whoaah...Action stations, eh?... I wonder where they keep the towels around here?” said Mike, looking around. “These newborn babies are slippery little blighters and we’d hate to drop your little one Dan...”

  Fiona silently appeared near Mike and handed him a towel.

  “What’s up Major? Other than your pulse?” teased Fiona, resting her fingertips gently on the artery on the side of Mike’s neck.

  “’Bout time you showed up woman!” grinned Mike with relief.

  Fiona repositioned her hands onto Mike’s shoulders and squeezed them in silent gratitude. Ryan stared at Mike’s bounding neck curiously.

  “Hey Dan...” continued Mike, sounding completely calm. “This is Doctor Fiona... She’s joined us make sure Becky’s fully dilated...”

  “It’s a bit too late for that Major. Catch!” laughed Fiona.

  “Catch?”

  “Now!” said Fiona and Rebecca in unison.

  “Wooah! Way to go Becky!! Can you believe it Daniel? Three pushes, mate!”

  “It’s a boy! It’s a boy!” yelped Ryan, jumping around excitedly.

  “Sorry if you’ve lost visual there Daniel... The camera-man’s ecstatic... Focus that iPhone back onto Becky... Look at the grin on her face Dan... You should be proud of her mate. Here... we might just plonk your little man down on her chest... Come on Ryan... time for you to step in and be Daniel now... I’ll take over the recording... okay... clamp the umbilical cord with that plastic gadget... Yep... Now snip it. About there’ll do... Good job mate... There! I reckon we’ll give you a pass in Midwifery 101 and Rebecca a distinction in Self Restraint Class, eh?”

  “There’s no such class!” guffawed Ryan.

  “Well you have to admit Becky showed great self restraint when she found out that her pseudo-midwife moonlights as a pseudo-vet!”

  Fiona and Rebecca doubled over with laughter. Mike zoomed in on the tiny baby and wiped his moist eyes with his forearm.

  “By the way Dan... Becky doesn’t know where your unit is, but if you happen to be in the Jalalabad region, watch out for an old Paki with a long pointy beard and purple headgear...he booby traps bodies... and a couple of my mates got badly hurt by his handiwork recently... Make sure you lasso any bodies you see - like you’d rope a kid or a colt - ‘coz Becky and bubs want you home safe... Sorry... that was right off topic but I had a gut feeling to mention it... Here, Becky wants to say something...”

  “Dan... I was thinking of calling him Micky Ryan... Is that okay honey?”

  “Top name!” said Ryan with sparkling eyes, as he tenderly stroked Micky Ryan’s tiny palm with his index finger.

  Ω

  A chilli-red sun slipped below the horizon. Zac stopped walking and slipped his pack off, then eased himself down.

  “We’re stopping here for the night?” asked Jake.

  “Sorry about the lack of privacy mate. I’ve been looking for somewhere suitable for the past half an hour. And this spot is the first one I’ve seen with a decent tree.”

  “And it’s a willow tree. Don’t you think that’s odd? It’s like the willow trees happen to grow about a day’s hike from each other. Maybe Maya’s right. Maybe there really is a secluded hot spring behind it.”

  “Maybe... We’ll check it out in the morning before we set out. Actually we can sleep in tomorrow morning as well if you want to. According to the map, we’re only about a two h
our easy hike from the military outpost. And while there aren’t any marked roads on the map, I’m sure we’ll be able to hitch a ride back to civilisation with someone from there.”

  “I told you we could do it!”

  “You two should be incredibly proud of yourselves.”

  “Forget being proud. I’m just plain famished...”

  Zac watched Maya peel open a can of rice-cream and gobble it down hungrily. She opened up a second can and became aware of Zac watching her eating it with relish.

  “What?”

  “Nothing... It’s just refreshing seeing a woman eating without fussing about calories and fat content.”

  “Hey - the way I figure it, I worked as hard as you fellas today. Although we’re nearly out of food. I probably should have only eaten one can, not both of them.”

  “That’s quite alright. Eat as much as you need. I’m so pooped I’ll settle for the last can of baked beans and some shut eye...”

  “After we eat, can I still light a fire in case the beans kick in and you want to light up your farts and chat about interesting stuff?” asked Jake.

  Zac laughed tiredly.

  “That sounds like the perfect ending to a really interesting day mate... Although we’d better get the fire started before it gets too dark... Come on... Let’s grab a few handfuls of dry grass as tinder, eh?”

  Maya looked at Zac and Jake walking off and quickly put down the can of rice-cream.

  “I might come and gather tinder with you too,” she whispered, reaching for Zac’s hand.

  “Sure. Is something wrong?”

  “No. I just don’t want to be alone when it’s nearly dark with the spooky UFO...” replied Maya, pointing over towards a dancing blue-white light.

  Zac and Jake looked off in the direction Maya was pointing.

  “Your imagination is as vivid as Hope’s!” chuckled Zac.

  “We agree it looks spooky though,” added Jake, eyeing the sweeping light with a hint of nervousness.

  “Well if it’s not a UFO, maybe it’s some rogue comet that’s gonna destroy the earth then,” suggested Maya.

  Zac shook his head as he gathered a fistful of dry grass.

  “Nah. It’s definitely not a comet. And for the record, no comet in our solar system will destroy the earth in our life-time. Those pseudo-science programmes are just sensationalism.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Remember the predictions that Elenin would destroy the earth? Well Elenin’s closest approach to Earth was 34.4 million kilometres. That was about the same as the closest approach of Venus. And Venus has about 81.5% of the mass of the earth and doesn’t threaten Earth. So why would’ve a dirty snowball with only 0.000 000 003% of the earth’s mass pose a threat to earth? And that goes for any other comet that’s predicted to pass close to earth in the next hundred years too.”

  “So it’s not a UFO... or a comet... I know - maybe the military blokes are doing some E/M experiments and they’ve generated a plasma ball. Like the ones in Laverton.”

  “Well I agree the light is probably man-made,” replied Zac.

  “Now she’s got me wondering too,” frowned Jake. “What do you think it is Zac?”

  “It’s a drop-bear with a torch!” joked Zac.

  Jake and Maya laughed.

  “What do you really think it is Zac?”

  “Judging from the direction, I’d say, it’s the landing light of the same chopper we saw earlier... The mist in the air combined with the vibration of the chopper is just making the light look unusually eerie...”

  Ω

  Charlie walked out to meet Mad Max and Ryan. He broke into a huge grin as a familiar figure clambered out of the chopper behind Ryan.

  “Mike!” hollered Charlie with overt delight.

  “Thought I’d come back for that swim, Choc.”

  Charlie laughed and bear-hugged Mike exuberantly.

  “I’m so glad you came back. We need you...”

  “Why?”

  “Paul went hyper on us after you left. And we can’t find out why.”

  “What’d ya do to him?”

  “Nothing. He was just looking at the old photos in the mess hall.”

  Charlie glanced at Ryan spinning around in circles like a kid pretending to be a plane.

  “What’d ya do to him?”

  “Nothing. We just hung out in the hospital with a woman called Becky for a while... Hey Ryan... I’ll do you a trade... your iPhone for this tuckerbox. Give it to the cook. And if you see Paul, tell ‘im I’ll catch ‘im shortly.”

  “Sure thing!” grinned Ryan, bouncing off in the direction of the mess hall.

  “Need me to do anything?” offered Charlie.

  Mike laughed and tossed his kit bag at Charlie.

  “Put it back in our room... I’ve just got to use the computer in the ops centre for a moment.”

  Mike walked away whistling. Mad Max eyed Charlie.

  “What did those womenfolk do to both of them?” he asked with a bemused expression.

  “No idea mate. But whatever it was, it worked!”

  Ω

  Jake returned in his PJ’s. He glanced at Maya - using Zac’s lap as a pillow. His focus shifted to Zac as he tenderly stroked Maya’s hair.

  “Would you like me to stay away a bit longer?”

  “Of course not Jake... We just both lay back at the same time and ended up relaxing near each other. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  “Nah. I don’t feel uncomfortable. If you were kissing each other or petting, then I’d feel uncomfortable. But the way you look into her eyes and pamper her feels...”

  Jake paused.

  “...pure. Like things should be. When I get a girlfriend I’m gonna treat her like you treat Maya.”

  Zac smiled.

  “Well, follow my example with regards to respecting women by all means. But don’t follow my example and drag a woman across a military training trek when she’s got her periods, and deprive her of a bath for two nights. I’m surprised she hasn’t punched my lights out. A dozen times over.”

  Jake chuckled.

  “Come on... Plonk yourself down here near us.”

  Silence.

  “Do you realize this is the fifth night we’ve sat here getting to know each other. With no electricity or mobile phones or internet. Just firelight. I don’t remember the last time I did without technology for this long.”

  “I don’t mind the lack of technology,” averred Zac. “Pity there really isn’t a secret hot spring around though. I feel so grubby I’m surprised no one’s made any rude comments.”

  “Your Givenchy is holding out fine. So is your Omnia, Maya.”

  “Since when do you know women’s perfumes by their scent?” laughed Maya.

  “You smell like my mum...” replied Jake wistfully. “Omnia was her favourite scent. After her funeral I swiped the bottle from her room. And whenever I missed her, I used to spray a little bit on me... So she felt close...”

  Maya reached into her rucksack and pulled out her Omnia. She misted some on them all.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Creating a new memory of Omnia... a happy memory of lying by the fire, chatting with special friends... near the top of a gorge in Yellowstone Park.”

  Jake cleared his throat noisily.

  “Did you know Omnia has a black pepper base, and also tea, cinnamon, nutmeg and almond?”

  “Sounds almost edible. Can we eat it if we run out of food?”

  “Are you still hungry after two cans of rice-cream, four packets of instant noodles and a packet of mashed potato?” chuckled Zac.

  “Yes. But I didn’t want to say anything.”

  “Here. Have the rest of my baked beans. If you’re not scared of catching boy bugs that is. Sorry. I was uncouth and ate straight out of the can.”

  “I’ll risk your boy bugs... A small dose now will build up my immunity for when we kiss on our wedding day.”

/>   “Can I come to your wedding?”

  “We wouldn’t dream of not inviting you Baby Bear!” laughed Zac. “Although we haven’t discussed when we’d like to get married yet.”

  “Or where we’d like to get married,” smiled Maya. “As in which hemisphere and which continent we’re getting married in!”

  Ω

  Mike bashed his fist on the computer desk in frustration. John caught Ryan’s iPhone mid-air as it tumbled towards the floor.

  “You know you’d last five minutes in a desk position,” he said with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

  “Er... Thanks for catching the pup’s phone. Sorry I nearly did my block. I didn’t realize anyone was watchin’.”

  John’s eyes twinkled.

  “It’s dinner time. What are you up to anyway?”

  Mike exhaled noisily.

  “I had this wild idea that if I used the computer in here, I might be able to get some gen on where someone’s posted in Afghanistan. But it doesn’t seem to be different to any other computer.”

  “Sounds important.”

  “It’s important to the bloke’s wife.”

  “So I’ve been told by at least four women. I’ve also been told that I’ll be throttled if some footage on this particular iPhone is accidentally wiped or the phone gets damaged.”

  A genuine smile from Mike.

  “Can’t have you getting throttled... We’d better make a copy of the footage before anything happens to it. Somehow.”

  Mike scratched his wrinkled brow.

  “Any ideas how to?” asked John.

  “I’m pretty sure you can transfer files across from one device to another... I’ve never tried to do it before though.”

  “Now sounds a good time to try.”

  Mike paused.

  “I’ve seen Julia do it... I think you connect the phone to the computer using bluetooth then press that button...”

  John peered at the iPhone as though he had never seen one before.

  “This button?”

  “Ah ha... then I think it’s this one... no that’s not right... I’ll try again... try that one...”

  “This one?”

  “Yeah... I think that’s right... Hang on a jiffy while we see if it works... Yep... there’s the file called Newborn Micky. On Ryan’s computer screen.”

  “So it is... Well how about that! Whoops... Oh dear...We have something in common... I’ll never get the hang of these new fangled gadgets... I seem to have accidently moved that video into Ryan’s music video clips folder... I wonder if that matters?”

  “Nah... You can copy a file from one folder into another. I know that much.”

  John nodded.

  “I know... Let’s bluetooth it to my computer as well so I can email it to those womenfolk at Malmstrom. Show me once more how you do it...”

  Mike more confidently transferred another copy of the video to John’s computer.

  “Yep. It’s worked... See...There it is on your desktop... Ready to email to the ladies... And Daniel MacIntyre... If I can find out where he’s stationed.”

  “I might know a way,” said John casually. “A friend of mine is a computer wiz and he taught me a few shortcuts on my computer. Want me to teach you them? Since you taught me how to bluetooth video files.”

  “Sounds like we’re gonna both miss out on dinner.”

  John chuckled.

  “Here... first of all you click on this wings icon on the toolbar which brings up the searchbox... Then you type in #777# and press enter.”

  Mike let out a low whistle.

  “That’s some shortcut... Yikes! I think we’re in the Airforce mainframe... Are you sure you’re friend’s not a hacker?”

  John resisted the temptation to crack up.

  “Okay... same procedure but this time type #AFG# - short for Afghanistan - Go ahead... you do it.”

  Raised eyebrows. Mike slowly keyed #AFG#.

  “Now type in Daniel’s name... It’ll probably be easier to type if you sit down...”

  Mike fumbled for the office chair as he stared unblinkingly at the monitor.

  “I dunno who your computer wiz friend is John, but this has to be a breach of Section 8!”

  “You sound like Ryan.”

  “I’m serious. I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t be able to access this database... This has brought up Daniel’s dog tag number... his next of kin... his blood type... his unit’s contact details...”

  “You wanted his unit’s contact details didn’t you?” asked John casually.

  “Yes... But what if someone finds out we’ve accessed this database from your computer?”

  “I’ll tell them that Gordon’s programme works!” laughed John. “That’s why he wrote it. So multiple databases could be accessed intuitively by people with basic computer skills.”

  “People with basic computer skills who want to scare themselves silly,” muttered Mike.

  John chuckled and leant over Mike’s shoulder. He placed his hand on top of Mike’s and took control of the mouse. Mike tried to stay focused.

  John rested his chin on Mike’s shoulder as he clicked and typed away. Mike forced himself to tolerate the invasion of his personal space.

  “Relax,” coaxed John softly, as he attached the video to the email.

  “You’re breathing in my ear!”

  “Well this is how a horse says ‘let’s get to know each other,’ isn’t it? He gets right into your personal space like this... and sniffs and sighs... and smooches... and nudges you like this until you’re comfortable around him!”

  Mike tried to curb his embarrassment.

  “And when you’re trying to join up with a lead colt you use similar tactics don’t you?” continued John.

  “Well this lead colt is still not sure what to make of the herd of wild stallions he’s started running with,” retorted Mike.

  An amused grin from John.

  “There...we’ll just add a quick note with the video attachment so Daniel knows it’s not spam...” said John, tapping away on the keyboard. “And while we’re at it we’ll put a little code in the subject line... PR1G4... There... That’s to make sure whoever’s in admin passes the message on Daniel pronto.”

  “PR1G4... and... #NAME#... #AFG#... and #777#. Okay... I’ve reached saturation level... Quick! Let’s turn this computer off before the place is buzzing with MPs!”

  John laughed and plonked himself down on the edge of the chair Mike was sitting on. Mike wriggled over to make more room for him. He watched him open up compose mail again.

  “What are you doing now?” asked Mike with undisguised alarm.

  “Just emailing a copy of Newborn Micky to those lead mares at Malmstrom so I stay in their good books.”

  Mike watched John’s fingers flying across the keyboard as he attached a copy of the footage to an email and sent it off to four recipients.

  “For someone who can’t bluetooth a file, you sure can type fast,” he said with a hint of suspicion.

  A cheeky grin.

  “There... All done.”

  “So we’re completely out of whatever we were in?”

  “Ah ha.”

  “That’s a relief!”

  Mike went to get up and paused.

  “I wonder...”

  “Wonder what?”

  “I wonder if your friend set it up so you can pull up information about places as well as people.”

  “Got some particular place in mind?”

  John watched Mike laboriously key in #Farliga Pass# with two fingers.

  “Hey... my hunch was right... It brings up the brochure that the shrink gave me at Malmstrom... Except it’s a bit different... that insignia wasn’t on the brochure... Actually it looks a lot like the insignia of the... nah... that can’t be right... Or could it be? My guts says it could be... I wonder...”

  Mike hovered over the insignia and discovered it was a hot link.

  “I wonder what’ll happen if I click on t
his...”

  John’s eyes twinkled but he opted to say nothing.

  “Istro-Romanian cryptology branch...” read Mike slowly. “Yupik-Sivuqaq cryptology branch ... And lots of people with foreign sounding names... Knock me down flat... I didn’t expect that!! I think I’ve accidentally strayed into some spy school’s database. Quick! We’d better close this computer down pronto. Before we have the ISRA after us as well as the MPs! How do we close this thing down without crashing anything important?”

  John belly-laughed and shut down the computer.

  “You’ve had a full on day Mentor Mike. Come on. Time to refuel eh?” he said, gently steering Mike out of the ops centre and off towards the mess hall.

  Ω

  “Well I’ll help you make your first decision about your wedding,” said Jake. “I think you should sing that love song you were singing today to Maya on your wedding day...”

  Zac chuckled.

  “Why’s the song called Echoes of Eden anyway?” asked Maya.

  “Well I guess it’s to remind us that as good as the best experience is between lovers - even that’s just an echo of Eden.... it’s not nearly as good as it should be.”

  “So you think the Garden of Eden was real?”

  “Definitely. Before sin entered the human race there was this perfect reality - the centre of that reality for Adam and Eve at least was the Garden of Eden. Everything lived in peace - animals didn’t fight or kill each other, there was no death, suffering, disease or pain... No obstructions in communication or intimacy between Adam and God... No barricades between Adam and Eve. Their sex lives were perfect - no inhibitions - they were naked but it didn’t bother them. The Garden met their physical, emotional and spiritual needs. It inspired them, triggered creativity, desires... dreams.”

  Maya stared off into the flickering flames.

  “I wonder what they looked like?”

  “Adam was a hunk!” replied Zac.

  “How do you know?” laughed Jake.

  “Because God’s perfect. And Adam was created in God’s image. And God was pretty pleased with His effort. Then Eve was created from the rib of Adam - so she must have been gorgeous too. Since the Fall there have been heaps of genetic replication errors, mutations and loss of information. Which means each successive generation has been just that little less perfect than the previous generation.”

  “That means man’s devolved, not evolved,” mused Jake.

  “Yep. Even the strongest, most beautiful people on the planet today don’t match Adam and Eve in appearance, physical stamina and attitude. Adam and Eve were not only physically perfect, but they were emotionally and spiritually perfect too.”

  “So if they hadn’t sinned we might still live in Eden?”

  “Ah ha. Adam and Eve and their descendents were supposed to remain in Eden with God forever. But then sin entered the human race and people got locked out of the Garden. It was like this parallel existence came into being. Outside the Garden, life was hard and dangerous. And it still is. The Bible says the path their descendents took was wide, well travelled and led to destruction. And only a remnant of Adam’s descendents - those from the line of Noah - even sought that intimacy with God which everyone else had lost.”

  “It’s amazing when you think about it. The very ground we are lounging around on right now was covered with water a few thousand years ago.”

  “I agree, it’s mind boggling... That remnant survived a worldwide flood - along with a remnant of the animals God had created. God brought those animals to Noah - He handpicked the gene pool which would be carried on. And later God put into action an awesome plan to get things back on track. It involved using his Son Jesus - to bridge the chasm between Him and His creation. Kinda like the rope bridge across the chasm we crossed today...”

  Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery.

  And today? Today is a gift. That’s why we call it the present.

  -B. Olatunji

  Pedro returned from the beach serene. A new flare of determination in his dark eyes. I felt strangely drawn to him.

  “Thanks for protecting me,” I said carefully. “I should explain. And I want to... I’m just not sure where to start...”

  “When you’re ready,” replied Pedro. “Although I admit I’m curious to know why an international arms dealer and a North Korean Special Forces General are hounding you...”

  “You’ve met Luan and Tarapaca before?” I asked guardedly.

  “No. But I know of them. A friend of mine - a scientist - believes General Luan triggered the earthquake in Haiti. With a special weapon.”

  I cleared my throat. Dutchy let out a soft moan and embraced Pedro tightly. They conversed softly in their secretive language. I sensed the tête-à-tête was about Maria... And moving on... And me...

  I opted to braid Petrina’s hair as she attentively listened to Dutchy and Pedro. I wondered how much of their conversation she understood. And what she felt about all the turmoil around her.

  “What now Dochter?” asked Dutchy, as their conversation finished.

  My shoulders sagged.

  “Stay with us until you decide then,” said Dutchy simply.

  Ω

  I stayed with them because I felt safe. They drove to a disused industrial shed down on an abandoned part of the wharf. I followed them in Pegasus. I parked her a good distance away from where they stopped their truck... Ready for an unobstructed getaway if necessary. Dutchy walked up and unlocked the padlock. They rolled back the doors on the enormous structure.

  “We’ve leased the premises,” explained Pedro. “And bought the decommissioned sea containers inside. There’s a tearoom, electricity and ablutions.”

  “You mean there’s hot water?”

  “An endless supply!

  I sighed extravagantly at the thought of a shower.

  “But this area is industrial not residential. What if they catch you living here?”

  “They can’t force workers to leave their workplace,” smiled Dutchy.

  “Or prevent them sleeping on the job!” grinned Pedro.

  “Or prevent us having night-shift and night-watchmen!” added Reece.

  “Or stop us offering on-site crèche facilities for our workers!” smiled Prada.

  “Or cooking meals for our workers!” added Katja.

  I laughed gleefully at their ingenuity.

  “We’re planning on living here while we convert some of the sea containers into accommodation. Then we’ll buy a rural property and relocate them there...”

  “Some friends of mine... Dave and Jen... run this B & B near Laverton. It’s built from converted sea containers too.”

  An unexpected flicker of attention in Dutchy’s eyes. I wondered why.

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing it one day,” he replied slowly.

  “It’s brilliant inside!” I said enthusiastically. “Actually maybe after you’ve built your own sea container home, you could get into the business of converting sea containers into accommodation for others... You could market the converted containers to mining communities with an accommodation shortage... Or market them as an affordable entry into home ownership in rural areas. And you could create a cyber display village.”

  Pedro’s eyes sparkled. He said something incomprehensible to Dutchy as I paused and drew an overdue breath.

  “You sound like you’d like to stick around and help us make it happen,” observed Dutchy.

  My stomach knotted.

  “I’d like to Dutchy. But I don’t know what the future holds...” I faltered.

  “None of us do Dochter... Why don’t you bring your car inside? There’s room in here for all our vehicles.”

  Ω

  I helped them set up their new office area. Everyday office equipment like a desktop and printer. And not-so-everyday equipment - like ham and H.F radio gear, a 15kW inverter and sophisticated weather monitoring equipment. I pushed away a sense of déjà vu as I surveyed the communications equipment. So
mething about their gear felt familiar, but I couldn’t work out what.

  I dismissed the sense of familiar as random, and made myself useful by helping Dutchy swa in the H.F antenna. I knew a bit about H.F. Zac and my Dad were into it big time. I briefly entertained the idea of putting out a call for Zac, but just as quickly dismissed it. I didn’t know what frequency he might be monitoring or using. Or whether he was awake or asleep.

  Reece brought us in coffee, then Dutchy walked out the office. Another fleeting impression. Someone was always with me. Were they taking turns at being my bodyguard or was my sixth sense on the skew?

  Reece took a sip of his coffee and switched on a small FM radio. It almost looked out of place alongside all their other radio gear. He casually flicked through the stations... Sport... Classical music... Eighties music... then squeaky feedback followed by muted hammering. Reece went from laid back to alert in the blink of an eyelid. He frowned and moved the dial slightly. The sound of two women chatting as they chopped veggies. Unmistakeably Prada and Katja. Reece picked up a pen and scrawled something on a piece of paper. He held his finger to his lips and tugged me out the office and towards Pedro. I read the scrawled message he held up...

  Listening device. 95 Mhz.

  Pedro’s eyes became dark and impenetrable. I followed them around the warehouse as they carried the portable radio. Petrina ran towards us giggling and laughing. Her laughter drowned out Prada’s chatting. Pedro and Reece exchanged silent glances. Reece ran the FM radio around me while Pedro patted me down... I felt like I was being frisked at airport security. Faint hesitation near my chest... Our eyes met each other and he brushed my cheek affectionately. Dutchy walked up. An exchange between the three of them in foreign-speak. They all looked over at Pegasus. Pedro said something to Petrina.

  “Play along...” wrote Pedro, holding the paper up to me.

  I nodded in agreement.

  Bewildered. Frightened.

  “Time to go shopping everyone...” said Dutchy in Spanish.

  “Good... We need eggs,” said Katja.

  “And soap powder,” I said.

  I genuinely needed soap powder.

  “Can we buy an ice-cream Mama?” added Petrina, slipping her hand into mine.