Near Extinction

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Near Extinction Page 7

by R. A. Spratt


  ‘No one you can see,’ said Ingrid.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Dad.

  Ingrid glanced at the rubbish bin a few metres away.

  ‘A listening device?’ whispered Dad.

  Ingrid sighed. ‘If there were a listening device in that bin it would be sensitive enough to hear you whispering.’

  ‘Sorry,’ mouthed Dad.

  Ingrid motioned for Dad to walk with her. They had no luggage, just a backpack each. As they walked away from the terminal, and the sinister rubbish bins, Ingrid drifted closer to Dad and began to explain in a soft voice. Dad had to lean his ear as close as he could to her mouth to make out what she was saying.

  ‘You wife was an agent with the deepest level of cover,’ said Ingrid. ‘She performed dozens of top-secret missions. Her security clearance was level turquoise.’

  ‘Turquoise?’ asked Dad. Turquoise was not a colour he associated with international espionage.

  Ingrid nodded. ‘It is the second highest level in the agency, after mandarin. Just one agent level operates at mandarin level of security. And that is Maynard.’

  Dad shuddered at hearing Professor Maynard’s name. She was the only woman Dad found more terrifying than his wife. And Dad found most women terrifying, including his future wife who he was travelling with right now.

  ‘Having captured a turquoise operative they would keep her in the most secure prison available,’ said Ingrid. ‘There is only one facility like that. It is where they keep the worst of the worst.’

  Dad struggled to assimilate this information. He had known that his wife was a violent international super spy for some time now. He had seen her smash a terrorist’s nose into his face and karate chop a man in the Adam’s apple so that he instantly lost consciousness. And yet, he still on some level thought of her as his snookums, his snuggle bunny, his dearest heart. So it took some mental reconciliation to come to terms with the idea that she was considered the worst of the worst criminal in this culture at least.

  ‘How are we going to get there?’ asked Dad. ‘Public transport?’

  Ingrid shook her head. ‘We would be too easy to track. We’re meeting a contact of mine.’

  ‘We are?’ asked Dad. This idea alarmed him. He was sure it would not be someone comfortable to be around and he was right. As they walked past the next concrete pillar in the carpark Ingrid spun away from Dad and lashed out with her foot.

  ‘Eurgh,’ cried a man.

  Dad realised someone had been hiding behind the pillar. Ingrid had known and kicked him hard in the groin.

  ‘Are we being attacked?’ asked Dad.

  ‘No, this is our meeting,’ said Ingrid. ‘Meet Yuri. He is my contact.’

  ‘Ugh,’ groaned Yuri from the ground. ‘Why did you have to do that?’

  ‘Why did you have to hide behind a pillar with a taser stuffed up your sleeve?’ asked Ingrid.

  ‘I don’t have a taser stuffed up my . . .’ began Yuri, until Ingrid stomped on his arm. ‘Aaaaagggh!’ His cry did not entirely muffle the telltale sound of electronics being crushed.

  ‘You were saying?’ asked Ingrid.

  ‘All right, all right, I had a taser stuffed up my sleeve because you’re terrifying, okay?’ confessed Yuri. As he stood up Yuri shook out his sleeve so that the broken electronics could fall out onto the carpark floor.

  ‘Is this them?’ asked Ingrid. Indicating two filthy, beaten-up dirt bikes parked a short distance away.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Yuri. ‘Do you have the agreed upon payment?’

  Ingrid reached inside her coat. Dad was expecting her to pull out a wad of cash, or perhaps an envelope with a cash shaped lump in it. But she didn’t. Ingrid pulled out a small plastic bag.

  Yuri hastily grabbed the bag and checked the contents. He pulled out a Star Wars figurine still in the plastic packaging. ‘Mint condition Darth Vader! Where did you get it?’

  ‘I’m not revealing my contacts,’ said Ingrid.

  Yuri chuckled and threw two sets of keys to her. ‘Pleasure doing business with you. Although I should charge extra for the broken taser.’

  Ingrid took a step towards him. ‘I could always retrieve my payment, because you tried to tase me.’

  ‘All right, I’m going,’ said Yuri, he turned and jogged to a nearby car.

  Dad waited until Yuri had pulled away before he started asking questions. ‘You pay in Star Wars figurines?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ said Ingrid, as she checked over the motorbikes. ‘Sometimes limited edition Pez dispensers, sometimes baseball cards. Collectables are easier to smuggle than cash. And they retain their value better than third world currencies.’ She stood up. ‘Do you know how to ride a motorbike?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure I can handle it,’ said Dad. ‘I built my own helicopter, you know.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Ingrid. ‘I’ve never seen you fly it.’

  ‘I’ve done all the simulator programs,’ said Dad.

  ‘A motorbike requires balance,’ Ingrid pointed out.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with my balance,’ said Dad.

  ‘I’ve seen you fall headfirst into a bin of compost,’ Ingrid reminded him. ‘And drop a plant on your foot, and slice into your finger with a pruning knife.’

  ‘I don’t do those things when you’re not there,’ protested Dad. ‘You make me nervous.’

  ‘Well I’m here now,’ said Ingrid. ‘You are going to have to ride this bike while you are nervous.’

  Strangely, arguing with Ingrid was making Dad less nervous of her. ‘I can handle it,’ he said firmly.

  Ingrid raised her eyebrows but said nothing. She just handed him the keys.

  Dad got on the bike. It was higher off the ground than he was expecting. But he didn’t want Ingrid to see that he felt uncomfortable. He turned the key and the engine roared to life. The whole bike shook and vibrated beneath him.

  ‘The carburettor needs cleaning,’ he observed.

  ‘We don’t have time to service the bike,’ said Ingrid. ‘We need to illegally cross a border, break your wife out of a maximum security facility and sneak back. We have a tight schedule.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Dad. ‘I’m ready.’ He squeezed the clutch, put the engine in gear and released. The bike flew forward. He toppled off the back and the bike crashed straight into a concrete pillar. Dad had landed on his bottom. So he got a good view of the bent front wheel and the split petrol tank leaking all over the concrete.

  ‘That was a little trickier than I imagined it would be,’ said Dad.

  Ingrid got on the other bike, less aggressively turned the engine on and put the bike in gear. ‘Climb on,’ said Ingrid. ‘I think I’d better drive.’

  Dad climbed on the back, grabbed Ingrid by the waist and they were off. She expertly wove her way out of the carpark and onto the long bleak motorway.

  The entire group of students stood and watched as Mr Lang leafed through a sheaf of notes. He was standing in front of a large replica of a stocky dinosaur that had protruding plates all down it’s back.

  ‘This is soooooooo boring,’ complained April. ‘If the two hour bus drive wasn’t bad enough, now we have to stand in the middle of the desert watching a middle-aged man shuffle paper.’

  ‘Some rich people pay lots of money to come to the desert so they can find themselves,’ said Loretta. ‘They believe the lack of shelter, entertainment and drinking water to be highly spiritual.’

  ‘This place is about as spiritual as a parking lot,’ said April.

  ‘Okay,’ said Mr Lang. ‘Normally there would be a tour guide who comes out to explain all the displays.’ He turned and waved at the giant dinosaur statues dotted about the landscape behind him. ‘But Janet has got a cow calving this morning, and it’s twins so she couldn’t be here.’

  There was a mumble of excitement from the students in response to this. Many of the students came from farms. Farmers always loved it when a cow had twins. It was like winning on a scratch lotto card.
r />   ‘But she sent me some notes to read to you.’ Mr Lang had finally got the pages in order. Now he started patting down his pockets. First the pockets in his shirt, then his pants, then his shirt again.

  ‘Why are you patting yourself?’ asked Loretta. ‘Are you doing the Macarena?’

  ‘I’m looking for my glasses,’ explained Mr Lang.

  ‘You need glasses!’ said Fin. ‘And you drove us here without wearing them?’

  ‘My reading glasses,’ said Mr Lang. ‘I can drive fine. I just need glasses to read.’ He held the notes as far away from his eyes as his arms would reach, tilted his head right back too and then squinted to try and get the words to come into focus.

  ‘Why don’t you get one of us to read it for you?’ asked Fin.

  ‘He’s probably worried none of the students at Currawong High can read,’ said April.

  ‘Hey!’ said Kieran.

  ‘What?’ said April. ‘There’s a lot of you who clearly don’t seem to know how to brush your teeth.’

  ‘You should get Loretta to read it,’ suggested Fin. He loved listening to her talk.

  ‘Yeah, I’ll bet they teach reading and dental hygiene at her old school,’ said April. ‘It was pretty posh.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Mr Lang handing out the papers to Loretta. Loretta went and stood next to Mr Lang so she was in front of the group.

  ‘Welcome to Gulargambone Dinosaur Park,’ began Loretta, in her velvety voice, perfectly enunciating every word. She looked up to smile warmly at everyone listening. Most people smiled back. Although many of the boys hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Loretta was so good looking their hormones were in overdrive. The only thing they could hear was the sound of blood rushing in their ears as it left their brains behind.

  ‘Today you will be astounded by real life animatronic replicas of the most fearsome dinosaurs to walk the earth over 300 million years ago,’ continued Loretta.

  ‘You’re standing in front of a Stegosaurus,’ said Fin. ‘It was a herbivore. It just ate plants. There was nothing fearsome about a Stegosaurus.’

  ‘It was fearsomely fat,’ said Kieran.

  The students all sniggered.

  ‘Yeah, I’d be scared if that thing tried to sit on me,’ added Animesh.

  There was more sniggering.

  ‘They were not fat,’ said Fin. ‘Reptiles store fat in their tails. The body would be pure muscle and internal organs.’

  Kieran and Animesh sniggered. ‘Yeah, that’s what my grandad says about his beer gut. But fat’s not meant to wobble.’

  ‘Are you fat-shaming a dinosaur?’ asked April.

  ‘Huh?’ said Kieran. He had never heard the term before.

  ‘Fat-shaming is wrong,’ said April. ‘It’s bullying. I know that for a fact because at my last school, I had to write out the Department of Education definition of bullying 500 times as punishment for shoving someone’s head in a fish tank.’

  ‘Yeah, it was my head,’ remembered Fin.

  ‘I was being helpful,’ said April. ‘You had soap in your eyes, I was trying to wash it out.’

  ‘You sprayed the soap in my eyes,’ said Fin.

  ‘You were being annoying,’ said April.

  ‘You can’t fat-shame something that’s been dead for a trillion years,’ said Kieran.

  ‘The Stegosaurus has been extinct for 150 million years,’ corrected Fin.

  ‘If it’s extinct then it’s even worse to bully it,’ said April. ‘You’re disrespecting the dead.’

  ‘Miss Viswanathan, kindly get on with the tour,’ instructed Mr Lang.

  ‘As you walk among the full-size replicas . . .’ read Loretta. ‘You can imagine what it was like to walk among the real dinosaurs all those millions of years ago.’

  Fin looked about. ‘But these dinosaurs didn’t live in this area. The Stegosaurus was found in Portugal.’ Fin pointed to another dinosaur a hundred metres away. ‘The Aralosaurus was native to Russia. And the Triceratops was from North America.’

  ‘Yes, but you can get a sense of what it was like for these animals to be walking around in the wild,’ snapped Mr Lang.

  ‘No, we can’t,’ said Fin. ‘All these dinosaurs were found in lush tropical rainforests and grasslands. This is a desert. That’s not where all these dinosaurs lived. The whole planet was warmer and wetter 200 million years ago, there wasn’t as much desert.’

  ‘Well you can at least appreciate these replicas,’ said Mr Lang. ‘This is what dinosaurs looked like. That is a fact. We don’t have any dinosaur models in Currawong, so it’s something different for you to experience.’

  ‘It’s not very realistic,’ said Fin. ‘Real dinosaurs didn’t have chips in their fibreglass and they didn’t fade in the sun.’

  ‘This one’s got “made in China” stamped on its foot,’ Kieran pointed out.

  ‘Maybe that’s where that dinosaur comes from,’ said Animesh, kicking the leg of a dinosaur with what looked like a dorsal fin running down it’s back. The animatronics must have been triggered by the movement. The dinosaur’s head moved slightly side to side and it’s arms waved up and down. The statue creaked and groaned with the movement.

  ‘So lame,’ said April.

  Fin rolled his eyes. ‘The Spinosaurus was from Africa, everyone knows that.’

  ‘Everyone who’s a huge nerd,’ said Kieran, this induced still more sniggering.

  ‘I am not ashamed of my ability to accurately recall data,’ said Fin.

  ‘Yeah, cause you’re a huge nerd,’ said Animesh.

  The class openly laughed.

  ‘Huge nerds are the people who advance civilisation,’ said Fin. ‘Huge nerds put man on the moon, invented computers and discovered penicillin.’

  ‘They’re still huge nerds,’ said Kieran.

  Fin scowled. ‘That doesn’t even make sense as a comeback.’

  ‘Nerd,’ said Kieran.

  ‘All right, enough!’ snapped Mr Lang. ‘All of you – just go away and look at the dinosaurs. I’m sick of listening to you. You’ve got three hours to learn something. I want you to take notes in your workbooks. Write down the name, habitat and diet of each dinosaur you see. There are twenty-seven dinosaurs here at the park. Go away and find them.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Loretta, as Mr Lang trudged back towards the bus.

  ‘Rethink my career decisions,’ grumbled Mr Lang.

  The students picked up their notebooks and started ambling off in different directions to look at the dinosaurs. They were in the middle of nowhere with no phone access and no other visible signs of entertainment, so it’s not like they had much choice. Most of them had only walked a few paces when there was a horrible scream.

  ‘Aaaaaaggghh!’

  They turned to see Daisy Odinsdottir sitting on a rock clutching her foot. ‘Ow, I’ve sprained my ankle,’ she declared melodramatically.

  ‘How?’ asked Fin. It was a good question, no one had seen her fall over.

  ‘Duh,’ said Daisy. This was her all-time favourite word. She managed to drop it in to most sentences. ‘I fell over.’

  ‘Into a sitting position on a rock?’ asked Fin. ‘When most people fall over, they land on their hands, or their butt.’

  ‘Yeah, and you managed to avoid landing in all this dirt,’ said April, ‘and land on the one clean rock in the whole area.’

  ‘Excuse me for being lucky,’ said Daisy. ‘It still hurts dreadfully. You mustn’t put weight on a sprain, it will make it worse. Someone will have to carry me.’ She looked at Joe. ‘Someone strong.’

  Joe gulped.

  ‘Just stay on the rock,’ said April.

  ‘No, this excursion is meant to be educational,’ said Daisy. ‘The only way I will learn is if I see the dinosaurs, all twenty-seven of them.’ Daisy smirked. She wasn’t a very bright girl. So it didn’t occur to her that when she was lying, she should get her face to back up the words she was saying.

  ‘Um,’ said Joe.

  T
his was Joe’s favourite word. He used it as a substitute for entire sentences that he wished he could say, but couldn’t get the words out. He would have dearly loved to have run away, perhaps screaming. But if Daisy had sprained her ankle it would be unchivalrous not to help.

  Their mother had always taught Joe to behave like a gentleman. In hindsight, Mum probably should have focused more on getting April to behave like a gentleman. Behaving like a lady was obviously beyond her. If only Mum could have convinced April there was some moral imperative to behave with human decency earlier in life, then perhaps she wouldn’t be such a raving enraged psychopath now. One of the Peski kids had to be well behaved, and it had always fallen to Joe. He knew it. And every manipulative person who could smell the weakness of others knew it too.

  ‘Please, Joseph,’ said Daisy, now she did bat her eyelashes. But she wasn’t very good at it. Her eyelashes didn’t flutter. They blinked awkwardly, like she had something large and uncomfortable stuck in her eye. Nevertheless, it worked on Joe.

  He was essentially a good boy. He had to help a girl who couldn’t walk and had a terrible eye injury. Joe bent over and picked Daisy up. This was not easy. Daisy was no light weight. Muscle weighs more than fat and you don’t play district field hockey without having quadriceps of steel. She could run the length of a hockey pitch while dribbling a hockey ball and belting the shins of every girl she passed better than any other fifteen-year-old in the Bilgong-Currawong catchment area.

  Joe glanced about and spotted the nearest dinosaur, a Diplodocus, fifty metres away. He set off trudging towards it. As he carried her, Daisy looked back over Joe’s shoulder. Loretta, April and Fin were standing watching. Daisy smirked at them. Loretta burst out laughing.

  ‘If Daisy thinks giving a boy lower back pain is the way to his heart then she’s not going to get very far in life,’ said Loretta. She was still chuckling as she headed off in the other direction with Fin and April to have a look at a Brontosaurus.

  Fin, Loretta and April were standing in front of the Tyrannosaurus rex statue. It was massive. Looming above them on its hind legs.

 

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