by Geoff Palmer
‘If you fancy a snack, I’ve got Albert out the back cooking burgers. There’s plenty to go round. Help yourselves to whatever you like.’
Norman licked his lips and rubbed his hands in anticipation.
‘Albert? Cook?’ Alkemy said as they went through to the house.
They found him in the neatly paved back yard, bent over a barbecue.
‘It appears that an internal temperature of seventy-one degrees Celsius maintained for a period of ten seconds yields the best results,’ he said, waving a spatula as he turned. ‘Oh, it’s you lot. All finished?’
He was wearing an apron bearing the legend “World’s Greatest Mum”.
‘What you do?’ Alkemy said. ‘When we ask, you tell us you do not make the cooking.’
‘I don’t. Cooking’s robot’s work. However, Glad had several packets of meat patties nearing their expiry date and she asked if I could determine the optimal timing for heating them.’
Tim smiled. Apparently it depended on how you phrased the question.
‘And this?’ Alkemy indicated the stack of bread rolls and bowls of sliced tomato, cheese, cucumber, gherkin, beetroot and shredded lettuce.
‘Ancillary experiments. It would be a shame to waste the test material.’
‘I agree,’ Norman said, grabbing a paper plate, a bun and piling food on it.
Tim did likewise. The smell and sound of the sizzling patties made his mouth water. They’d walked a long way this afternoon. Lunch — and breakfast before it — now seemed like ancient history.
‘What of the other experiment?’ Alkemy said. ‘You make a receiver for the scanner blocks?’
‘Finished it an hour ago.’ Albert gestured at a flat black-glass panel sitting on a chair. It was the size of a serving tray and looked like an oversized tablet computer, complete with shiny chrome edging. ‘There have only been two transmissions so far. Both just after two o’clock as I was finishing it off, so not much use to us. But now it’s complete, it should start recording useful data.’
‘So now we watch and wait?’ Norman said with his mouth full.
Albert nodded.
Tim reckoned waiting was a great idea, especially once he’d finished a juicy burger with all the trimmings and found one of the reclining armchairs in the lounge. It had soft deep padding, a rich leathery smell, and seemed to swallow him up. He settled with a sigh and pulled a lever to extend the folding footstool. The night’s broken sleep and the long walk around Rata had worn him out, but as he closed his eyes, he thought about Cakeface at the playground, about their morning at the farm, and had a wild, crazy dream in which everything suddenly made sense ...
10 : Right From the Start
Tim opened his eyes and checked his watch. Four-thirty. For a moment he wasn’t sure if it was late afternoon or early morning as the room was in deep shadow. He guessed Glad had seen him dozing and drawn the curtains. He got up and pulled them open in time to see Norman, Alkemy and Albert troop in from the back yard.
Alkemy smiled as he met them in the kitchen. ‘Ah, you are awake.’
‘Where have you guys been?’
Her smile faded and she slumped at the kitchen table. Norman tossed the receiver down beside her, something in his carelessness giving Tim a clue.
‘Not working?’
‘It does work. Or rather, did. But it hasn’t picked up anything since then.’ Norman pointed at two sets of glowing numerals that read 14:07 and 14:22. ‘So we went round to Cakeface’s place to see if we could get a reaction. She was out in the garden. Alkemy went right up to her and said she was lost and could Cakeface please direct her to RAGS. Albert and I were hiding, watching, just in case. It’d be a perfect chance for the Sentinels to tell Cakeface to grab Alkemy, but she didn’t do a thing, just gave her directions and even drew a little map.
‘We’ve triple-checked the receiver and some of the scanner blocks. Everything’s working OK, but the Sentinels have stopped transmitting.’
‘Actually, I kind of guessed that would happen,’ Tim said.
Norman and Alkemy as he said to Albert. ‘I have two questions for you, and one for Norman.’ They both nodded. ‘First, Albert, what would you do if you were the Sentinels and you found out about the scanner blocks?’
Albert crossed his arms. ‘I’d stop transmitting.’
He turned to Norman. ‘When did we leave that scanner block at the playground?’
Norman glanced at his watch. ‘Just after two, I think.’
‘So how about this for an idea.’ Tim pointed at the receiver. ‘At 14:07, the Sentinels send Cakeface out to find us. They’ve heard, or guessed, that we’re in town somewhere, so they send her out, driving around till she spots us at the playground. What does she see? Alkemy climbing a climbing frame while you and I stand watching. Then she climbs back down and we all walk away. Must’ve looked a bit suspicious, kids in a playground not playing.
‘At 14:22, the Sentinels “remind” Cakeface she’s supposed to be doing a safety check of the swings and stuff. “And don’t forget that climbing frame,” they tell her. So after we’re gone, she climbs up where Alkemy was, takes a look and sees the scanner block. The Sentinels see it through her eyes, realise what it is, and stop transmitting.’
‘Whoa, hold on,’ Norman said. ‘It’s just a grey cube. How would they know what it was?’
‘What if they knew we had a transmitter problem?’
‘How would they know that?’
‘I have a nasty feeling that we told them.’
Albert said quietly, ‘What was your second question, Tim?’
‘I was going to ask what the Sentinels look for in a host? Could they use anyone or anything?’
‘Not at all. A host needs a certain level of consciousness and concentration for a start. A sparrow would never do, for example. They’re too jumpy and constantly on the move. Plus, they need a good lifespan. It can takes months to establish basic mental control, so it would hardly be worth bothering with something that only lived a year or two.’
‘What about a cat? They can live for twenty years or more.’
‘A cat?’
‘I was thinking of Smudge, my aunt and uncle’s cat. She was there right from the start, from the very first time I met Alkemy and Ludokrus when they were disguised as mice checking out the microwave. She’s there all the time too. Never goes on holiday, never leaves the farm. And she hangs around when people are around, yet no one ever really notices her.’
‘I certainly didn’t,’ Albert muttered. ‘Yes, a cat would make an excellent host. What made you think of that?’
‘I remembered what Coral, Norman and I were talking about when Smudge finally came out from under the house this morning.’
Norman stared at him, closed his eyes and slapped a hand against his forehead. ‘Oh man!’
Alkemy and Albert looked on, mystified.
‘After you went back to the reserve, we sat around the back lawn talking about your transmitter problem. Smudge came out and joined us.’
‘And then I mentioned how you had a plan,’ Norman groaned.
Tim said, ‘After lunch, when we headed to the reserve, Smudge tried to follow us. She only got stopped by the stream.’
‘So how did she know we were in town?’
‘Maybe she heard the car go or saw Ludokrus and Coral on their own. The Sentinels would wonder where the rest of us were and guess we must’ve gone into town because the Cadillac never went back past the farm.’
Norman bit his lip. ‘It does all make sense.’
Three pairs of eyes turned to Albert. He nodded grimly. ‘Yes, I’m afraid it does.’
‘What now?’ Alkemy said.
‘I don’t know. I really don’t. But perhaps we should warn the others.’
* * *
The chicken coop had one of the best views on the farm. It sat on a headland and looked out over the sparkling waters of the Tasman Sea. Somewhere to the west, more than two thousand kilometres away, lay Austra
lia.
Coral tucked the last scanner block under a corner of its roof, then she and Ludokrus settled in a patch of sun on the far side, sheltered from the house. It was peaceful with the chickens ranging about. They had free run of the area, but most didn’t stray far. Coral watched them for a while then closed her eyes. ‘Say the blocks do work, say you find the Sentinels’ transmitter and get a signal to your ship. How long then before another escape pod arrives?’
‘About one day.’
‘So if they don’t work you go tomorrow, and if they do, you go on Monday.’ She pursed her lips. ‘Not much difference.’
After a lengthy pause Ludokrus said, ‘I will come back.’
She shook her head. ‘That’s crazy.’
‘Co-ral!’
The cry came from the house. Long and loud. Frank’s voice.
Coral jerked upright and poked her head round the side of the chicken coop. Her uncle was standing on the veranda, his hands cupped around his mouth.
‘Co-ral!’
She stood up and stepped into view. ‘What?’ she called back.
‘Phone!’
She started for the house. Ludokrus followed.
‘Who is it?’
‘Your boyfriend.’
‘Derek?’ she muttered. ‘He doesn’t even have this number.’
Ludokrus stopped in his tracks.
‘I mean your brother.’
‘Oh, ha ha!’ she called and hurried in to take the phone. Alone.
11 : The Rata Meteorite Mystery
Coral found Smudge lying in a patch of sun in the lounge and stood looking at her, thinking about what Tim had told her on the phone. All along they’d been looking for a human Sentinel host, never considering the possibility that it could be something else. A few days ago she’d even made a list of suspects; her uncle and aunt, Alice, the Robinsons from the farm up the road, Errol Fitchett the school bus driver. And it was the cat all along!
Possibly.
There was no way check now the Sentinels had stopped transmitting.
Or maybe there was, she thought.
‘Hello puss.’ she knelt and stroked the cat’s sun-toasted side. Smudge glanced at her through one half-open eye, closed it again and purred lazily.
‘You look comfortable there, but I’ve got somewhere I think you’ll be even more comfortable.’ She scooped the cat up in both arms and carried her through to her bedroom. ‘How about that?’ She set her down on her bed in an equally sunny patch and moved quickly to the door.
Smudge looked around, sniffed the duvet cover, and settled down again.
‘That’s it,’ Coral closed the door on her. ‘You stay right there.’
She skipped back to tell Ludokrus what Tim had said and tell him about her idea. He’d moved to the veranda and now sat on the far end, swinging his legs and staring out across the fields. She was about to speak when tyres scrunched on the gravel drive and a light green station wagon drew up. There was a man and woman in front, and the back was piled high with black metal-framed boxes. For a moment she thought they were members of a touring band.
The driver stepped from the car and stretched. He was stocky, with close-cropped hair, jeans, running shoes, T-shirt and a black nylon jacket emblazoned with a 9-News logo. His companion emerged, a striking woman with blonde shoulder-length hair. She was dressed the same — T-shirt, jeans, light nylon jacket — but it all looked much more stylish on her. Designer versions, perhaps. And in place of running shoes, she wore a pair of slinky high-heels.
‘Oh. My. God!’ Coral muttered as Frank emerged from the milking shed and Em and Alice appeared from round the back. ‘I don’t believe it. It’s Crystal Starbrite!’
‘Who?’
‘The TV reporter. And not just a reporter. She’s a real celebrity. She was going out with a guy from Shortland Street and their bust-up was on the cover of all the magazines for weeks.’
Ludokrus frowned. ‘The news reporter is herself also news?’
‘What’s she’s doing down here?’ Coral fluffed her hair, straightened her blouse and leapt off the veranda.
Frank and Em were exchanging greetings.
‘Eric Newcombe,’ the stocky man said. ‘I’m Crystal’s OPC.’
‘OPC?’ Frank said.
‘One Person Crew. Crystal reports and presents, I do the rest: video, sound, directing and editing.’
‘Emma Townsend,’ Em held out her hand.
‘And Frank,’ Frank said. ‘I’m her OPC.’
‘Are you the guy from the radio?’
‘My fame is spreading.’
‘Would you do an interview with us?’
‘What, TV?’ Frank raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ll have to talk to my agent.’
‘It’ll only take a few minutes to set up.’
‘Make-up and wardrobe will take a bit longer than that,’ Em said, casting a critical eye over her husband. ‘You might want to come in for a cup of tea while you wait.’
‘Where have you come from?’ Frank asked as they ambled towards the house.
‘Today? Westport,’ Eric said. ‘Hell of a drive. You’re a long way from anywhere down here.’
‘That’s just the way we like it. Come on in.’
Crystal Starbrite lingered, looking as though she’d caught a whiff of something unpleasant from the nearby paddock.
‘I’m Coral,’ Coral said, offering her hand.
The reporter took it limply.
‘Oh my god, are they Italiano’s?’ Coral gestured at her shoes. ‘That is such a fabulous shop!’
‘You know it?’
Coral gave a horsey laugh. ‘I’d move in there if they’d let me.’
‘You’re not from round here then?’
‘Oh god no! My brother and I are just down for a visit.’
Crystal glanced at Ludokrus lingering on the veranda. ‘Oh. So you’re an Auckland girl?’
‘Born and bred.’
‘I grew up in a place like this.’ Crystal blew out her cheeks. ‘In the middle of nowhere, the back of beyond. A long way from civilisation.’
‘You’re telling me,’ Coral said.
‘Couldn’t wait to escape.’
‘I know what you mean.’
Ludokrus watched them approach, chatting like old friends. He knew all about the dangers of talking to reporters, so he ducked inside ahead of them and went to the bathroom, waiting with one ear to the door till the others assembled in the lounge. Then he followed Em and Alice as they carried in trays of tea things and slices of cake. He stopped and stood in the doorway.
Crystal and Eric had an armchair each. Frank and Em sat on the sofa. Coral sat on the floor near the famous reporter and her adorable shoes, while Alice perched on a padded footstool. Crystal tilted her head and flicked her shoulder-length hair. ‘So, we were shooting a package in Westport and ended up ... what? ...’ she glanced at Eric, ‘... two minutes late for check-in ...?’
‘More like twenty.’
‘... and they went without us! The last flight! Bloody Air New Zealand. We had to stay the night — what a dump! — and the news desk were furious. Then, poof, up pops this meteor thing and all of a sudden it’s, “Oh Crystal, please get us some aerial shots.”’
‘So that was you in the helicopter this morning,’ Frank said.
‘Me,’ Eric said.
‘I don’t do mornings.’ Crystal gave her hair another flick. ‘Anyway, we got their shots and were all set for the 10:40 flight when the news desk phones again. Radio NZ have been talking about a near-miss for some tourists. Why don’t we zip down and do a story ...’
‘And here you are!’ Coral beamed.
‘... and then they phone again when we’re halfway here. “There might be more to this than meets the eye. Take a couple of days and do an in-depth. We’ll do a Monday special, call it “The Rata Meteorite Mystery”. Great, but it’s my bloody weekend!’
‘The Rata Meteorite Mystery?’ Frank said. ‘I didn’t know there was one.’
‘Something our archives people came up with,’ Eric said. ‘Apparently you’ve had a couple of these things before. They reckon the chance of two coming down in the same area — even years apart — is millions to one.’
Alice set her cup down with a clack. The noise made them all look round.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered, her pale face paler than usual.
‘Hardly a mystery,’ Frank said. ‘More like a coincidence.’
‘Doesn’t have the same ring though, does it: The Rata Meteorite Coincidence?’
‘So you’ll be staying in town,’ Em said.
Crystal fluttered a hand. ‘The office booked it.’
‘A place called Feather Willow Lodge in Rata,’ Eric said.
‘Oh, nice,’ Em said. ‘Daisy Robson’s place. You’ll be very comfortable there. The rooms are lovely.’
‘Is it far?’
‘Another twenty K,’ Frank said. ‘Over the hill.’
‘Is that the turn-off just before the campground? I saw it from the chopper this morning.’
‘That’s the one.’
‘We’ll stop and get some ground-level shots of the crater as we go past. Were there any other witnesses apart from you two?’
Alice took a breath then bit her lip.
‘We’re not exactly witnesses,’ Frank said. ‘We just heard the bang. But Coral and her brother actually saw it come down.’
‘Would you be prepared to tell us about it on camera?’ Crystal said.
‘Yeah, sure.’ Coral flicked her own hair and tried to remain casual, but she couldn’t help grinning.
Eric said, ‘How about we interview the kids at the crater and shoot you on the back lawn, Frank?’
‘Funny, I nearly did that myself this morning,’ Em muttered.
‘What about those tourists you mentioned on the radio? Have they moved on? I didn’t see any sign of them from the chopper.’
‘They’re ... still about,’ Frank glanced at Ludokrus standing in the doorway, ‘but they’re not keen on reporters.’
‘They’ll talk to me.’ Crystal flicked her hair again. ‘Everybody talks to me.’
Ludokrus grunted and walked away.
12 : The Interview Express