by David Gullen
‘Ya!’ everyone cried. They leaped madly, stamped their feet and roared with laughter. Laughed at the dolphins for the trick they had played on them, wept with mirth at their own cleverness.
Bianca danced with them, and wept and laughed, caught between the cruelty and the exultation, the wonder and triumph.
She found herself beside one of the fires where Bonito were cooking with bread and sweet potato.
A white-haired old woman held out one of the fish on a broad leaf. Bianca tore at the flesh with her teeth and crammed it into her mouth. Hot juices ran down her chin and dripped onto her chest. The old woman grinned, they both cackled with laughter.
The stupid dolphins were a row of motionless grey shapes at the borders of firelight and darkness. Dolphins were playful and kind, humans were the clever ones, the tricksters. How easy it had been to fool them. Where was Tekirei? Gone, lost in the jumping, dancing, clapping, shouting crowd. Bianca no longer cared.
Tanoata marked out an oblong in the earth. She stabbed at it with her knife. Her movements became frenzied, she slashed and hacked two-handed, gouging the soil.
She scraped the broken earth into a long, narrow mound. A crude head formed at one end, arms beside the torso and legs below. Low domes formed breasts, a cleft between the legs.
Satisfied, Tanoata sat back. Sweat streamed in the humid night air of the hut. She wiped her face, pushed her earth-caked hands through her hair and down her flanks. Now she formed eyes, nose and mouth. Gently, she stroked the forehead, smoothing back fair hair. The knife lay on the ground, her fingers twitched. Without thinking, her hands circled the throat of the effigy. Teeth bared with the effort, she lifted her hands away.
‘I call you Bianca Hutzenreiter,’ Tanoata hissed. She pressed her lips to the effigy’s mouth. ‘Here is your breath.’
She cut into her palm. The knife was very sharp, the wound deeper than she intended. For a moment a bone gleamed white before blood flooded the cut, black in the lamp light. Though it scared her to see so much blood, the thought of what she was doing thrilled in her belly and she heard a low, feral chuckle.
‘Here is your life.’ Tanoata held out her hand and let the blood drizzle onto Bianca’s forehead, her heart and her womb.
The oil lamp guttered, shadows lent movement to Bianca’s effigy. One moment she gazed at Tanoata serenely, the next her eyes were the blank sockets of a death mask.
A soft sound came into the hut, the faintest sigh at the very edge of hearing. It seemed that Bianca’s chest rose and fell in time with the sound. The air in the hut grew thick. Another presence had entered the hut and Tanoata was filled with awe at what she had done.
Faint and lonely a shout came from the beach, then a great yell from a hundred throats. The dolphins were on the sand, their heavy bodies motionless, their eyes black and round as their breathing holes puckered and gaped.
Tanoata’s limbs began to shake. She fell on the ground beside Bianca, twitching and groaning. Her eyes showed white, her tongue protruded. The sound of breathing slid back and forth through the hut.
Tanoata crawled on all-fours around Bianca’s shadow-lit form and chanted:
Rokea, listen to me.
See this woman. Come and take her.
Rokea, smell this woman.
She is for you. Come and fetch her.
Rokea, turn in your path.
Open your mouth.
Show her your teeth.
Walk on dry land.
Tanoata took up the knife and pushed the tip against her own flank. She pricked out a semi-circle of wounds from ribs to pelvis, a huge bite mark. The puncture marks stung, her hand burned, the earth was dark with blood. Crawling alongside the earth figure she pressed her wounds against it.
As she lay alongside the Bianca-thing Tanoata knew the waiting rokea wanted more. They wanted her to push the knife into her own belly so her entrails spilled in the dirt. They would come, she had done enough, but they wanted more.
Tanoata sat back on her knees and held the tip of the blade against her stomach. The knife was sharp, her flesh would part like cooked meat. It would be easy to give the Rokea what they wanted, but she did not want to die, she wanted to see Bianca gone, Bianca taken away and destroyed.
The demands of the Rokea made her angry. A blackness descended. Tanoata screamed and slashed the knife across her stomach. The knife flew back and forth, the shallow cuts burned like fire.
Tanoata was a shark. She fell across the effigy’s legs and bit and tore until her mouth was full of dirt. Choking, she collapsed face down on the earth.
There she lay for a long moment. Eventually her shoulders heaved, she raised her face from the ground.
Into the hut came a sinister laugh, a dark voice. ‘Bianca Hutzenreiter you are gone from here. You were never here. We have already forgotten you.’
Tanoata broke apart the earth effigy, stamped it flat and replaced the rug and sleeping mat. She took up her clothes and knife, extinguished the lamp and walked naked, filthy and bleeding out into the night. The dark laugh was still inside her, it shone through her eyes; it stretched her mouth so wide it hurt. The next time Bianca Hutzenreiter slept in her bed the spell would rise into her and she would die.
Bianca woke on the beach with the rising sun. Dawn light lay low across the sea, sparkled on the reef breakers and glittered on the lagoon.
Many people had slept on the beach, families and friends, single-sex groups of boys and girls. Lost in the rapture of the dance, Tekirei and Bianca found each other and embraced. Later, they lay side by side on the sand. He stroked her hair, to Bianca a gesture as full of magic as anything that night. In the dying firelight she saw his bright, fleeting smile and their mouths had touched. Her hand drifted down his flanks.
Tekirei groaned and rolled away, his arm across his brow. Bianca took his hand and felt his answering grip before he pulled free. It was very late and Bianca was weary. Before she knew it she was asleep.
When she woke, Tekirei introduced her to a group of his relatives from the southern village. The islanders welcomed her with enthusiastic smiles.
‘The thing about Tekirei is that he is a terrible liar,’ a middle-aged woman with a braid of grey hair told Bianca.
‘He is atrocious,’ said a man of very similar appearance to Tekirei. ‘What a brother.’
‘I am ashamed,’ the woman said.
‘I too am very ashamed,’ said Tekirei’s brother. ‘Somewhat more, to be honest.’
A slightly built old man, completely bald, his face seamed by the sun, the muscles on his chest and arms slack with age said, ‘As patriarch, it is my duty to feel most ashamed of all.’ He beamed with delight. ‘I really do feel it.’
Puzzled, Bianca looked at Tekirei.
‘What are you talking about?’ Tekirei said warily.
‘I am surprised you do not remember,’ his brother said.
‘He fibs all the time, no wonder he can’t tell one lie from the next,’ said a younger woman, who wore a necklace of coloured shells.
‘If you let me know what it is, I would make amends,’ Tekirei said.
‘It is clear to me,’ the old man said. ‘Shall I remind you?’
‘Please do, grandfather.’
‘When I asked you about this lady from America you said, and I remember your words exactly, that she was quite pretty you supposed.’
‘We heard it too,’ Tekirei’s brother said.
‘You were not there,’ Tekirei protested.
‘My wife told me later. The way she tells stories, you are better off hearing things from her than turning up yourself.’
Tekirei’s grandfather held out his hand to Bianca. ‘Welcome to Ujelang.’
‘Thank you,’ Bianca said.
‘If you like,’ said Tekirei’s grandfather, ‘you could compliment me on my stature and virility.’
‘I was temporarily rendered speechless by your physique,’ Bianca said.
Everyone agreed she would fit right in.
‘How long are you staying?’ said Tekirei’s brother.
‘The seaplane is coming to take me back to Pohnpei in a day or so.’
‘Send it away.’
‘Stay for a month.’
Bianca looked to Tekirei but all he did was spread his hands. ‘I’d love to, but I have my work.’
‘Next time you must stay in our village. The food is terrible, but only when they let me cook,’ Tekirei’s brother said.
Bianca promised she would and Tekirei’s family departed along the beach. Bianca and Tekirei walked inland into the shade of the palms.
‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ Bianca said.
‘You have helped us so much. One day we will be truly independent, we will be able to make everything we need, use our own technology, engineer our own crops. Whatever happens in the rest of the world will not touch us.’
There was a gap. Bianca said, ‘Last night–’
‘Will have to be last night.’ Tekirei increased his pace.
‘Tekirei, wait. The dolphins, I never imagined such things.’
Tekirei waited for Bianca to catch up. ‘I am being immature. Forgive me.’
‘That young man, could I talk to him?’
‘He is resting, he is very tired.’
‘I see.’
Tekirei saw the doubt in Bianca’s face. ‘I am not trying to keep him from you. He will sleep all day, and tomorrow too. It is part of the price.’
Bianca was intrigued. ‘What is the rest?’
‘These things are not free. If you ask for something, you must give something of equal worth. Power for power, life for life. Whatever the Caller has paid is his own secret.’ Tekirei hesitated then pushed on, ‘Power, magic, money, they are much the same thing.’
The air was a little cooler in the shade. Sand crabs scuttled from their path as they walked towards the village.
‘Did you find Tanoata?’ Bianca said.
‘No.’
‘I am sure she is all right.’
‘Tanoata is convinced you will take me away. I tell her no, it is not like that, but she does not listen. What can I do? She is all I have.’
‘Let me talk to her,’ Bianca said. ‘Please?’
‘Where is she, Bianca?’ Tekirei’s angry gesture took in sea, land and sky. ‘She should have been with her family last night. With me. This morning no one has seen her. So tell me this – do you see her?’
‘No, Tekirei, I don’t,’ Bianca said quietly.
Tekirei let out his breath. ‘Well, then.’
Down at the water margin men and women butchered the dolphins with long knives.
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- 32 -
Crane found his daughter in a grove of wild banana and calabash trees down a steep valley a mile from the house. A dry streambed cut down through the grove to a shallow river below. Choked with jagged boulders and splintered trunks the stream flowed only in flash-floods. When the storms came the water surged in torrents and boulders ground together with a sound of distant artillery. Anything that stood in the way was destroyed.
Crane sat beside his gigantic daughter. ‘Snarlow’s gone.’
Ellen nodded, her chins quivering and billowing as she did. ‘I heard the choppers. Did she try for a loan?’
‘She wanted me in her government.’ As Crane said it he realised how very strange that was. Snarlow had tried to borrow money in the past, but not now, when she was haemorrhaging billions a day in Mexico.
Ellen frowned. ‘There’s another plan we’re not seeing. Andriewiscz is being careful not to trash the Mexican infrastructure but the economy isn’t big enough to make the invasion worth the capex or the political fallout.’
‘I should have thought of that.’
‘There’s no pleasure quite like knowing you’ve been underestimated,’ Ellen said.
It was a saying Crane had taught her. In the beginning his popular image had been that of a lucky man, someone who just happened to be in the right place at the right time, an impression he learned to cultivate. In her own way Ellen had done the same. She had met just about every power player in the world, she put things together quickly, none of them had noticed her intelligence. All they had seen was Palfinger Crane’s fat daughter, and later, the Steel Nymph.
For a moment Crane was free of his anxieties, his guilt at his own reaction to Ellen’s appearance, his inability to save her, his fear, his own failings. He saw his daughter as she truly was.
Under her hunched and fatty shoulders, internal machinery and ponderous limbs, lost somewhere inside that vast mass of perforated and implanted flesh, was his daughter Ellen. Surviving, living, thinking, feeling. Crane didn’t know whether to be proud or sad. He decided he was both.
‘She came on to me,’ Crane said. Ellen looked startled; immediately Crane felt guilt and embarrassment. ‘Sorry, too much information.’
Ellen waved it away. ‘Oh dear God, that is so sad! What was she thinking of? A woman in her position, how desperate!’
‘It wasn’t that desperate,’ Crane said.
‘Daddy, you’re the best catch in the world. Next to me, obviously. What I meant was, is she totally out of ideas? What kind of reasoning would make her do that?’
Crane put his hand on Ellen’s. It dwarfed his as she dwarfed him. He felt like a child sitting beside a statue of Buddha. ‘I love you.’
Across the valley a flock of white-winged parakeets flew between the trees, their wings flashed bright between the foliage. Palfinger and Ellen listened to their raucous calls as they moved down the valley.
‘Daddy, you know you’re going to live longer than me.’
Crane bit down on his lip. ‘There’s still a chance.’
‘All that talk about life and hope? That’s just the contingency plan.’
Crane told her more about President Snarlow’s offer, her threats.
‘I think I’d like to go home. Back to Canada, to Million Pines,’ Ellen said.
‘Have you spoken to your mother recently?’
Ellen shrugged, a vast, humping movement. ‘She sent me a note a while back.’
‘She’s still in Micronesia?’
‘I guess.’
‘She needs to know.’
If Ellen wanted to go to Canada there was no reason not to. Business could be done anywhere and if Snarlow’s threats were real, hiding was not an option.
The more Crane thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Million Pines was remote and enormous, a wilderness of forests, gorges and lakes, its security wide and deep. He’d order improvements, bring across whoever Casavantes had rescued from the Xalapatech labs. And Ellen would be happier. Maybe that was the best thing remaining that he could do for her.
‘Good idea, I’ve been missing the lodge myself.’ He tapped a stud on his collar. St.John responded promptly.
‘Yes, Mr Crane?’
‘We’ve decided to return to Canada.’
‘Immediately, sir?’
‘Yes.’
‘Leave everything to me.’
‘Thank you.’
Crane returned to his office and made the call. After a few rings he heard Bianca’s cautious voice.
‘Hello, Palfinger.’
‘Hello, Bianca, are you well?’
‘It’s nice to hear from you.’
There was a brief silence during which Palfinger promised himself he would not argue.
‘What’s happened now?’
‘She’s very ill, Bianca. I’m afraid there’s nothing more to be done. It’s just a matter of time.’
‘I see. How long is that?’
‘A few months.’
‘Oh, well, goodness, I thought you were going to say a few days. That wouldn’t be so easy. I’m a thousand miles from civilisation.’
‘I can easily collect you.’
‘Not now, I’m in the middle of something important.’
What could be more important than your own daughter, Palfinger wanted to say. Instead he said, ‘I see.’
‘I’ll be a few more weeks. She’ll be all right until then, won’t she?’
‘Ellen would love to see you, Bianca.’
Bianca sounded distracted. ‘She’ll be all right until then.’
- 33 -
They Came at Night
‘It looks like snow under the street lights but it’s a swarm of large flying insects. Shoppers are fleeing for their vehicles. Old men, families, all running, hollering and screaming.
‘I don’t know what these things are. They’re like a cross between hawk moths and giant crickets. People are pouring from the malls with bugs in their hair. There’s this guy waving his coat, trying to keep them off his kids.
‘A security guard has fallen over, people are just trampling him. He’s not moving. God.
‘It doesn’t look like they bite or sting, there’s just so many of them. The stores are empty, the chill zones deserted. The bugs are everywhere, flapping, dropping to the ground, dying as I watch, drifts piling in the gutters, masses clogging the ornamental ponds. I’m – I’m going to go outside.
‘Here’s one, it’s too weak to fly, crawling down the sidewalk, up onto my boot. There’s a pattern on the wings, I’ll zoom in so you can see. It’s like a – What the heck? There’s a logo on its wings, NFC. Natural Forces Combine. These guys aren’t funny any more. This is a nightmare.’