Lair of the Sentinels

by Geoff Palmer

  Coral and Ludokrus stopped at the base of an incline of tailings that led up to the mine. Tim and Alkemy drew up beside them. Faint remnants of a switchback track ran up to the entrance, worn into the cliff face by weary miners and their mules.

  ‘Now us,’ Alkemy said. She took out her pink backpack and handed it to Ludokrus.

  ‘You may need for Albert.’

  ‘Then we will come back for it. Must check first it is safe.’

  He nodded, and without another word she gunned her bike and headed up the switchback trail. Tim followed.

  The track was narrow, steep, and patches of it were missing completely, wiped away by small rock slides, but the bikes made steady work of the gradient and it was only mildly alarming when he glanced down and saw how high they’d climbed.

  At the top, the track opened on to a semicircular ledge that had been scraped out around the entrance to the mine. They parked their bikes and got off.

  ‘Thirty-two ... thirty-three ... thirty-four ...’ Tim continued, counting out loud now. ‘The flashes have stopped.’

  ‘Is him. He see us come.’

  The others watched anxiously from the valley below. Tim waved. ‘Nothing yet. We’ll take a look inside,’ he called down.

  ‘Five minute only,’ Ludokrus called back, tapping his watch.

  ‘OK.’ Tim checked his own and said to Alkemy, ‘Anything we need from the packs?’

  ‘Have torch and spare battery. Maybe also jacket. May be cool, I think.’

  Tim pulled on a light nylon jacket and joined her.

  Moving cautiously, they approached the mineshaft and peered into the inky blackness. All they could make out was the start of a narrow-gauge track that looked like a miniature railway leading into the mine, presumably for hauling out debris. It was very old and very rusted. Two lines of crumbling ochre etched into the grey rock floor.

  ‘Hello?’ Tim called quietly.

  There was no response.

  He tried again.

  Nothing.

  ‘Hello!’ he yelled, making Alkemy jump.

  ‘O ... O ... o ... o ... o ...’ The sound echoed into silence.

  ‘Maybe he is hurt and cannot speak.’ A strand of her hair had come loose. She brushed it back.

  A second later, a light flickered in the distance. A faint glimmer that moved from side to side like a signal, then faded like the echo.

  ‘Albert!’ Alkemy yelled and raced towards it.

  * * *

  ‘Only two? How disappointing.’

  ‘Let’s give the others a little encouragement ....’

  27 : Drowned Rats

  The air grew colder and the light — filtered by the racing clouds — shimmered and shifted. It was like being underwater. Coral looked from the mineshaft to the steep cliffs above it and picked out spiralling dust devils being whipped up by the wind.

  ‘Three minute.’ Ludokrus was studying his watch.

  ‘I think we might need to find some shelter,’ she began, but her words were drowned by a crash of thunder like the boom of heavy guns.

  A searing flash of lightning danced along the cliff top to their right, almost as if it had been aimed directly at them. Norman didn’t even have time to start counting. A second gun-like roar hit them, making the earth tremble and bringing with it waves of stinging rain.

  ‘Back to hut!’ Ludokrus shouted. He turned his bike and raced off at full speed. The others followed.

  Coral cried out as the first fat drops struck her back, but no one could hear her above the angry downpour that engulfed them. They hunkered down over their handlebars, focussed on the hut that seemed to grow more distant in the dimming light.

  The dusty track was suddenly slick. Puddles appeared out of nowhere, and the dry creek bed that ran along one side boiled into life. Ludokrus, leading, brought his bike to a skidding halt at the back of the hut and leapt off to help the others. Coral simply abandoned hers, stepping off it before it had completely stopped, using its momentum to propel her into the shelter. Ludokrus caught it and switched it off.

  They left the bikes beside the fuel drums where the overhanging roof gave them some protection. Round the front, they huddled in the doorway, staring out like three drowned rats, barely able to think above the pounding on the iron roof.

  * * *

  Tim adjusted the slider on the barrel of his torch, narrowing the angle of its beam until it became a spotlight stabbing into the inky blackness ahead.

  ‘Off one moment please,’ Alkemy said.

  He clicked the switch and they stood in darkness, peering ahead. Waiting. One full minute this time. But there were no more flashes. Not so much as the flicker of a glowworm.

  A roar behind them made them start. A deep bass rumble followed immediately by pounding rain. They edged deeper into the mineshaft and Tim turned his torch back on, widening the beam to illuminate rough-hewn walls and sturdy pit props while Alkemy kept hers on narrow beam and directed it ahead.

  They moved in silence, shapes and shadows dancing in the torchlight. The sound of the pounding rain faded to a murmur.

  ‘Albert?’ Alkemy called.

  A muffled echo was the only reply.

  There were no footprints on the rock floor. It was hard and smooth, marked by parallel streaks of rust from the long-vanished tracks. Trickles of water caught them up, overspilling the furrows and racing ahead into the eerie gloom.

  ‘Some storm,’ Tim said, thinking of the others.

  They moved slowly and carefully, examining the pit props on each section of the ancient mine before continuing. Everything seemed stable and solid. It was odd to think it must have been this way for a hundred years or more.

  Alkemy stopped, steadying her beam. Tim narrowed his own. Five metres ahead, the shaft ended in a broad T-shape where the miners had hacked about, searching for the dying remnants of the gold seam before finally giving up.

  They glanced at each other in the pale backwash of light. That was it. Nothing else. A few scattered rocks, but no sign of Albert.

  * * *

  ‘They ran away!’

  ‘Cowards.’

  ‘Option two then. Open the hatch and switch on the recording equipment.’

  ‘Recording now ...’

  * * *

  ‘What was that?’ Tim heard a faint whisper of sound. He turned and played his torch beam over the walls of the dead-end.

  ‘Like something move,’ Alkemy said, doing the same. ‘There! What is that? I do not see before.’

  Her torch lit up the left branch of the T, playing over a dent in the wall partly masked by a rocky outcrop. Behind it was a circular shadow, dark and silent. They approached and saw what looked like a small side passage angling up and away from the main shaft.

  ‘Albert?’ Alkemy called again, louder this time, her words flattened by the dead-end.

  ‘Looks like a ventilation shaft,’ Tim said.

  It began partway up the wall, a hole a metre in diameter. Perfectly circular, its sides glassy smooth. ‘Looks like has been melted.’ Alkemy touched the surface and pointed to the puddle of congealed rock they were standing on. ‘Is still warm. Feel.’

  ‘Melted? How?’

  She shrugged and peered in.

  He played his torch around the smooth walls. The light reflected back and forth a thousand times, playing off the glassy sides.

  ‘Looks fresh all right. Could Albert have done this?’

  ‘I do not know.’

  She called again.

  No reply.

  ‘Only one way to find where it goes.’ She eased herself inside.

  Tim followed, clambering in after her, his rubber-soled shoes squeaking on the surface of the melted rock. It was like climbing up inside a water slide.

  The passage curved right, growing steeper, then angled sharply left. Alkemy’s voice came back to him. ‘Can see the end. Looks like it come out in other mine.’

  There was a faint scuffling sound as she exited, a moment of silence,
then a cry. ‘Oh ... oh ... Oh no!’

  28 : West Coast Sunshine

  Alice parked her blue Daihatsu in front of a fading picture of a ram and tried to remember the last time she’d visited her old home town. Years, she thought, and in all that time nothing had changed. That was the trouble with Rata. It wasn’t a dynamic, happening place like Greymouth.

  She’d driven aimlessly, not wanting to go back to the farm. Not wanting to go anywhere. The interview with Crystal Starbrite played on her mind and she shuddered at the idea of it being broadcast. Em had been right. She shouldn’t have done it. At least not, without proper preparation.

  Of course they’d want evidence. Of course they’d want other witnesses. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? But there was one way she might redeem herself.

  She took a deep breath, got out the car and marched across the road to RAGS.

  She stood at the open door a moment. Glad was serving a customer. Alice entered, took a Sunday paper from the rack and stood in line at the counter.

  One other thing hadn’t changed, she thought. Gladys Smith had kept her looks. She was still slim, athletic-looking, and still had that unruly mop of gingery-coloured hair. It was as wild as it had been in their school days.

  ‘Good heavens, Alice Jones!’ Glad exclaimed when she looked up. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you since Bob and Muriel’s wedding. It is still Jones, is it?’

  That was uncalled for, Alice thought, suddenly conscious of her left hand around the newspaper.

  ‘I’ve never bothered with those old patriarchal customs,’ she said grandly, dropping the paper on the counter. ‘I suppose that’s one thing we have in common.’

  Glad smiled, either missing or ignoring the veiled reference to her own single-parenthood.

  ‘Have you just arrived? I never saw you at Frank and Em’s.’

  ‘I was out for a drive.’

  ‘Sorry I missed you.’

  ‘Actually, I caught sight of you the other day,’ Alice said. ‘Just in passing.’

  ‘The other day?’

  ‘Mmm. Friday afternoon. Out near Em and Frank’s place. How’s your leg, by the way?’

  ‘My leg?’

  ‘Yes. You were walking with a stick.’

  For an instant, a disconcerted flicker passed across Glad’s face.

  Gotcha! Alice thought.

  ‘Only, I was going to suggest Arnica gel’ she said aloud. ‘It’s wonderful for aches and pains, you know.’

  ‘I ... think you must’ve mistaken me for someone else.’

  ‘No, it was definitely you. And your boy Norman. Gosh, hasn’t he grown! Last time I saw him he was barely walking.’

  Glad stared at Alice. Alice glanced over her shoulder to see if they were alone, then smiled. ‘I know all about it Glad. The mice, the spaceship. Everything.’

  ‘I ... don’t know ... what you’re ...’

  ‘Oh yes you do. You were there. I saw you. Hobbling about with a gammy leg. With your son. And Albert. And the children.’

  * * *

  ‘Isn’t this what you call West Coast sunshine?’ Coral yelled above the thunderous drumming on the tin roof.

  ‘Not like this,’ Norman shouted back. ‘I’ve never seen rain like this.’

  They stared towards the doorway of the hut where the rain was falling with such force that when a flash of lightning froze the scene outside, the droplets looked like long steel bolts suspended in mid-air. They braced themselves and held their breaths as another bone-juddering boom echoed round the gully.

  Ludokrus upended his backpack on the floor and began sorting through the collection of spare parts from the sixth pile.

  ‘Lost something?’ Coral had to shout above the din.

  ‘Need to cover bike.’

  ‘Don’t tell me they shrink if they get wet.’

  ‘No, but rain is not good for the electric.’

  ‘You mean they’re not waterproof?’

  ‘Not this-proof.’ He jerked a thumb at the drumming on the roof.

  Finding nothing suitable, he gave up and went to the door.

  ‘See anything?’ Coral joined him, but they could barely see two metres.

  There was another flash of lightning and another clap of thunder. Coral shivered and stood in silence, dripping and cold, staring at the rain.

  * * *

  Alkemy’s cries grew stronger as Tim forced his way up the last few metres of the smooth-walled passage. ‘What is it? What’s happened? Alkemy, what’s wrong?’

  She was on her knees when he emerged. At first he couldn’t see what the matter was. The circular passage ended in a closed chamber, a small rock room like the dead-end tunnel they’d just left. At least it was on three sides. But where Alkemy crouched was a jumble of boulders that looked like the result of a cave-in.

  He moved to one side, broadening his torch beam so it flooded the chamber, and found her kneeling, helpless, hands outstretched, crying quietly before a fallen figure.

  Albert’s head, part of one shoulder and an outstretched arm were all that were visible beneath the fallen rock. He lay face down, head to one side, and might have been resting if it hadn’t been for the awful burden and the puddle of machine fluids in which he lay. From the position of his body, Tim guessed he’d been running from the cave-in. He’d almost made it.

  ‘Albert, Albert, Albert,’ Alkemy wept, reaching out to touch his head with trembling fingers.

  Tim felt a lump in his throat and looked away. Then Alkemy gave a startled cry as Albert’s hand twitched and his eyelids flickered open.

  29 : Evidence

  Glad stared at Alice then came to a decision. ‘So, you know all about it. So what?’

  Alice blinked. She hadn’t expected that. Not at this stage. Not so easily. She gripped the newspaper she was holding. ‘Then you don’t deny there’s something going on?’

  Glad smiled. ‘There’s always something going on somewhere, Alice.’

  ‘I mean in that clearing in the bush.’

  ‘There’s no bush now. Or clearing.’

  ‘Yes, well, we both know about that, don’t we?’

  ‘Do we?’

  How much does Alice really know? Glad wondered. OK, she saw us in the clearing. But she couldn’t possibly know about the killer robot. Or the way it chased us. Or me getting shot. Could she ...?

  Emboldened by Glad’s reaction, Alice leaned forward confidentially and added, ‘It’s all right, you know. We’re on the same side. Albert’s told me everything.’

  ‘Oh has he?’

  ‘Of course. We’re ... well ... we’re good friends, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I see.’ Glad nodded. She knew exactly what she meant. ‘In that case ...’ she leaned in herself. Alice leaned closer in expectation, ‘... since you and Albert are such close friends ...’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘... you must know everything already, so there’s nothing I can add.’

  Alice straightened and pursed her lips.

  Glad smiled and raised an eyebrow.

  The entrance buzzer buzzed and the TV cameraman strode in.

  ‘You again?’ Glad grinned.

  ‘Yeah, I know. It’s a filthy habit.’

  ‘Another pack of ten?’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘Twenty-packs are more economical.’

  ‘I’m trying to cut down, but I reckon I picked the wrong weekend for that,’ Eric said.

  Glad turned to the cabinet where the cigarettes were stored. Alice focused on her newspaper, pretending to read it.

  Eric nudged her.

  She ignored him.

  He nudged her again.

  She looked up, frowning, making out she was surprised to see him.

  He held a finger to his lips, jerked his head towards the door and waggled one eyebrow.

  Was he being silly? Making fun of her? Alice scowled.

  Glad turned back with his cigarettes, and he snapped his attention back to her, holding out a twen
ty dollar note. As she was making change, he glanced at Alice again and jerked his head towards the door.

  ‘Thanks. See you,’ he said to Glad, took his change and left.

  Alice gave Glad a haughty look, paid for her paper and followed him out.

  She found him standing by the closed-up tearooms up the road. He held up the cigarette packet. ‘I really am trying to give these things up, you know. I almost didn’t buy them. I stopped by the door wondering if I should. I’m glad I did now because I caught the tail end of that conversation you were having.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘And before I say anything else, I have to say I think Crystal was a bit hard on you earlier.’

  Alice shrugged as if she didn’t care, but her face glowed with embarrassment.

  ‘I spend a lot of time looking at people, you know. Through the lens. Often in close-up. I can usually tell when someone’s making stuff up. But I didn’t get that feeling about you.’

  ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘No. And from what I heard back there, it seems the RAGS lady knows more than she’s letting on.’

  ‘Yes, she does,’ Alice said.

  ‘Was she one of those other people you mentioned?’

  Alice hesitated. ‘She won’t admit it.’

  ‘Maybe Crystal can persuade her.’

  ‘Do you think she can?’

  ‘Worth a try.’

  ‘Well, thank you for believing me anyway,’ Alice said.

  ‘Not so hard when you have evidence.’

  ‘Evidence?’

  ‘I saw something back at the reserve when we were packing up.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Crystal saw it too — or rather, them. She’s as blind as a bat without her glasses, but they were so close even she could see them.’

  ‘What?’ Alice said again.

  ‘A couple of mice under some bushes near the caravan. Looked pretty tame. One fawn, one grey. Just like the ones you described.’

  * * *

  Norman paced up and down studying the receiver. The thunder and lightning had subsided. All that remained was the lashing rain.

  ‘See anything?’ Coral asked.

  ‘I expect they’re waiting it out.’

  The scanner block Tim was carrying had faded as soon as they entered the mine, but Norman would spot them the moment they re-emerged.