by DB Daglish
“Hi Tia, we hear you. We are going a bit slower in the river just south of the airport. Where are you guys?” Lenny asked. He was the first to get the radio in the mad scramble for it was always a game to get to it first on this yacht.
“We are almost there already; we can see the tall buildings not far away. It was a bit of a race on the bikes, as you’d expect, but we’re all tired and sweaty now. Those on horseback are here too. We decided to rest in a park and see where you are at - over.”
“We are at least an hour away I’d say!”
“What should we do? Go in, or wait for you? – over,” she asked.
“We will have a quick chat and call back soon. We have an old map. Where exactly are you - over?”
There as a brief pause but Lenny knew they’d be checking street signs.
“Hello?” Tia finally replied.
“We hear you!”
“Near the corner of Campbell and Mark something – over.”
“Hang on…oh, yeah, we see it. Ok, we want you to meet us at the park by the river two blocks away,” and Lenny gave them instructions.
They waited there for nearly two hours, the last hour watching the schooner fight the flow and the unfavorable wind which was by now dying off. The longboat had no such trouble. After tying up at the jetty, they had a brief discussion, after which only six proceeded into the city on the cycles to see what sort of reception they would get. Following the river, they turned west and along a straight road until they came to a steel bridge. Ahead of them were the tall city buildings, looming high above like silent sentinels. They quietly rode around the corner to the bridge entrance, to discover about a dozen people waiting for them behind the concrete wall. Three came forward.
“Do you have any weapons?” one asked while maintaining a steely glare.
“We have none with us. We are travelers from New Zealand!” Ricki stated.
“New Zealand?” the one who spoke first asked, a look of surprise on his face.
“Yes. We have been down in Sydney on a…what do you call it guys?” and he turned behind him for support.
“Exploratory visit!” Mik said.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” he said grinning in embarrassment as he turned back to the man. “I’m Ricky.”
“My name is Hiroshi,” he said unemotionally and he motioned to the buildings in front of them.
As Ricki and the others turned behind them they could see three people with rifles on the terraces of buildings above them.
“Precautionary!” he said as he waved them down. Then he looked at the bicycles. “Those are not yours!”
“No,” Ricki agreed realizing they were very observant. “We were loaned them by Peter at…back there!” he gestured, not being able to remember the name.
“Redcliffe?”
“Yeah. That was it bro.”
“Bro?” Hiroshi mimicked as he laughed “I haven’t heard that phrase for a very long time. Welcome,” he said stretching out his hand and bowing with each handshake.
They were introduced to each one in turn. They were all Japanese, very much alike, a little reserved compared to most they met, but that was their way before as well.
“We have more waiting elsewhere,” Tia said quietly.
“Back at the creek mouth? Yes we know!”
“How, we couldn’t…” but she was interrupted.
“There are many of us here. We saw you before you stopped at the first park where the horses caught up. I assumed you have been at Redcliffe but we were not sure if you had been loaned those bikes and horses or taken them. Now use your radio and tell them it is safe. They can tie up next to the old paddle steamer beside the gardens. We’ll welcome them all there.”
“How do you know we have a radio?” Ricki asked.
“Someone was watching you closely as you sheltered under trees. Now, call them and we will have someone wait at the wharf for them. If you wish you can come with us now and we will introduce you to the rest of us?”
Ricki looked around to both shrugs or approving looks, so decided to take Hiroshi up on his offer. They were led to the buildings nearer the gardens. It seemed that every building had someone living in the lower floors at least. Even the old colonial buildings were occupied. Inside, they seemed sparse and basic, but they had never seen anything so tidy and ordered.
Eventually the schooner approached a pontoon where several people of Asian descent stood and waved to them. They were a little disconcerted that none of their own people were there, but were greeted warmly enough, offered food, and surprisingly, canned soft drinks; something few had seen for quite some time.
“We keep them in the cool basements of these buildings,” Tetsuro said as he directed them to a large building where everyone else had gathered. Here even more food was laid out, and warm tea provided in the style some remembered from many years before.
They were a polite people, the women even more so. But an unusual feeling pervaded everywhere, almost as if they were hiding something, yet not quite like that either. None could internally express it - certainly not aloud; not until they were all together that evening, all inside an open office area with mattresses and linen all laid out for them. All the visitors were invited to stay up and talk. Yet only Nim stayed up all night, and being of obvious Asian decent, Daisuke opened up to him a little more.
These Japanese survivors, regardless of whether they were born in this land or emigrated here before the great deaths occurred, had come from one island. Kyushu was a large southern island of Japan. After the virus had hit, the Japanese discovered many of them had survived, more than all the other races. This was disconcerting for other survivors, as the Japanese never really had a high physical presence in Brisbane itself. This led to their being fragmented groups as there now were. This was not racism exactly, but an agreed segregation with an accepted tolerance and willingness to trade among themselves. Over the years they debated among themselves as to why they survived when other Japanese they knew, did not. Some had family members die, so over time just being on that island was ruled out.
“So there is more to this?” asked Fin once they were all alone later that evening. He was intrigued by the whole mystery, as he loved puzzles and intrigue.
“Well yes!” Daisuke continued. “It turns out that each survivor, and there were one hundred and seventy of them, had at one time visited a volcanic island to the south. This island had hot springs…I can’t remember the name he used now…?”
“Onsen,” Harry said.
“Yeah, that was it. Anyway there were many of them around the coast, some in the sea itself at low tide. But there is a hidden one seemingly. It was only known to the locals and never advertised to tourists. Every one of them had been to it. The locals treated it as having some sort of magical properties - you know the Japanese; they’ll believe anything. But…” and he raised his hands in a questioning gesture, “that is the single most common denominator apparently!”
“So bathing in it is supposed to allow you to beat the virus, yet that killed the whole planet off?” scoffed Don.
“Not just bathing in it. Clearly they drank it too!”
“But mineral water direct from a hot spring is safe anywhere usually,” Bryce added. “Many places sell bottled water from hot springs!”
“But they drank it as they sat in it. They all remember an odd taste. Well - there must have been something in it, because every other possibility was ruled out.”
“But they’d have visited other springs? Samantha asked.
“Yes,” Daisuke agreed. “But some had not been to springs others visited. This was the only spring where everyone had been. If there was some other cause of them surviving, they could not discover it.”
“Interesting,” noted Don. “Imagine if this had been discovered in time. Oh…” he said, realizing that it would have been impossible to get that much water from one place to the population of the earth in time.
In the morning they were fed a very la
rge breakfast, and discussion moved to their means of survival within the city. It seemed an odd place to live under the circumstances. Buildings would decay and begin to crumble in the not too distant future. Ryan in particular was still discussing things with Kou, a man of similar age to him as they walked back to the schooner.
The group had now decided to leave as there was nothing more to be gained by staying, and the mood over the community there seemed a little tense.
“So why are you all so optimistic Kou? Hardship will increase! But I still do not understand how you provide enough food for yourselves?”
“Ah,” he said. “If you look toward the sun, you see no shadow!”
“Very good - I like that!” said Don. “But how do you produce enough food for all of you?”
“Oh, we are resourceful,” was all he would say, and he changed the subject many times. This began to bother Don, but he said no more about it.
Goodbyes were traded and they boarded the schooner, first discussing with the others to meet down the river.
Hiroshi asked where the sixth bicycle was.
“Oh, Ho decided to bike back to Redcliffe on his own at first light,” he said. He lowered his voice. “He’s a bit of a loner!”
“Ohhh,” Hiroshi said as he nodded in understanding. “Needs his space sometimes?”
“Yes. He needs his space. Thank you for your hospitality,” and he shook his hand and boarded. The others mounted their bikes and horses and all slowly departed.
Chapter 8
Late morning they met back down-river at the same place as the day before. Inside the schooner a meeting was in progress.
“So what did you learn Nim, where do they get their food from?”
“They said they had a farm out behind the city. But something didn’t seem right with their answers and I dropped it when they became agitated.”
“Did Ho get away unseen Ricki?” Harry asked.
“Seems so? I went with him as far as the old railway lines. He continued to push his bike along the tracks so as to be perfectly quiet. I was not challenged by anyone seeing him off or returning. I guess they thought we were all sleeping.”
“I hope he is ok? Does he have the map?”
“Yep. I told him to go up the A3 and meet us where it bends so they wouldn’t see him joining us until we were out of sight. Once he viewed the gardens he was going to take back streets to meet us. He should be there waiting for us by now.”
“Ok, we’ll leave and you go meet him and we can talk back up north.”
They went their separate ways, not meeting again until evening back at Redcliffe.
Ho had seen enough by mid-morning. He quietly crawled back from the wire fence through the undergrowth and jumped down the stone fence to the street. Hearing some laughing just out of view, he quickly rode up a side street, hiding to wait and see who they were. Two people; one he recognized, were walking up the road. One carried a rifle. Ho realized that if he not got back when he did, they would have seen his bike on the pavement and his heart pounded heavily at the possibility of being discovered. As soon as they were out of sight, he took the back streets as planned. Frantically he pedaled until across a creek bridge and into good tree cover, not stopping until he reached the raised road at the agreed spot.
From his vantage point he could see the towers of the city in the distance, some with trees growing from the tops of them as he had seen in Sydney. In time, five bikes and three horses approached. As they passed, and in case they were being watched, Ho quietly joined from the tree line without anyone saying anything and continued to ride slowly as a tight bunch with the horses noisily trotting alongside.
Not until they had passed through the semi-rural areas and turned seaward, arriving at a little park on the edge of the bay did they relax and talk in detail.
What they heard shocked them.
At Redcliffe that evening, a heated discussion was in progress. Some wanted to go back and demand that the workers be released immediately. Others thought it too dangerous, as the Japanese community numbered many and might fiercely defend their source of supply. After all, it had been kept hidden from them.
“But they are kept like those in prison,” Ho said. “There are fences everywhere surrounding the whole area. And it was huge. I saw at least eighty people working there and I’m sure there were more.”
For Ho had observed what amounted to a prison camp where those inside worked gardens and orchards. They seemed well cared for and he agreed this was no camp where they appeared malnourished or abused. Few Japanese were seen, and those that were, patrolled the fence line with rifles. Indeed, Ho had one pass directly in front of him as he lay in the undergrowth watching all the comings and goings before him.
“It seems as if those inside are happy to be there. I heard much laughter at one point,” Ho pointed out.
“But they are kept there against their will!” demanded Don.
He would have taken a weapon and gone to attempt to release them all on his own, he was so incensed.
“You can’t have free people behind a fence!” he insisted. “Come on Ricki, you are one against injustice. Why are you so silent?”
“I have been listening,” he said. “This could turn out very bad for us, so I am still in two minds about it. Especially where a group of people are surrounded by so much food, seemingly happy, and apparently quite safe, even if all of that is behind a fence.” He turned to Ho again. “Was there any suggestion of abuse of any sort?”
Ho shook his head. “I was not there long enough, but I saw nothing other than wire that would be considered a problem!”
The debate went back and forth but all at the Redcliffe community were silent, until they were asked their opinion. Megan seemed to be the most outspoken of the group. It was she that made the most outrageous comment.
“It is true we had no idea there are people in captivity and that we have received goods from their hand in exchange for fish. But they are not our responsibility. And if we refused to supply fish, would we be carted off and detained as well?”
That statement made everyone calm down somewhat. It was true they had no resources or power to stop it. There was no need to endanger the fishing community, nor was there any need to risk their own lives. But they were still concerned. After much debate they decided to send one person to question them openly, but also to ensure they mentioned that the fishing community knew nothing, so as to protect them. At the same time, three would sneak up with binoculars and have a closer look.
Ricki entered the city on horseback, a noisy distraction from those approaching from the rear. He was met by the leaders as he rode past the growing grounds on the old concrete walkways, giving him a full view of those inside the fence. Meanwhile Nick, Nim and Geo were able to sneak inside the old bus-way that ran underground, further out in the streets. This bus-way ran around the edge of the gardens which appeared to have been an old golf course once, judging by the ponds. Here the underground came out to a glass covered area in a huge concrete culvert. Where the glass had broken, they crawled up into the grounds, hiding in some bushes to watch.
“Why isn’t the culvert fenced off? You could just crawl down and out of here!” Geo observed,
“There is still the boundary fence though,” Nim said.
“Something is not right?” Geo suggested.
“What do you mean?”
“This doesn’t feel like its captivity. Look at the kids playing down there. Aren’t they outside the fence?”
Nim gripped the binoculars and viewed the scene before him.
“Yep, they came back in through the gate with some big gold fish. And then they shut the gate behind them. This seems weird!”
They stayed hidden for about an hour and then watched to their astonishment as Ricki appeared on the grounds along with several Japanese including the one called Hiroshi. Many of the gardeners stopped work and crowded around including children. Hiroshi seemed to be welcomed by the children, and laughed as
he held up the fish one brought to him from the curved building.
Suddenly they heard Ricki’s voice calling them.
“Hey guys, come out. We are a little embarrassed!” and he laughed loudly.
Slowly they stood up and cautiously came out from their hiding place to the surprise of those working close by in the composting heaps. As they approached they seemed confused. Ricki was laughing even harder and Hiroshi and those who had come from the buildings began to do so as well.
“I don’t understand?” Nick said, to which more laughter emanated from the Japanese.
“You thought we kept prisoners?” Hiroshi laughed hysterically. “Concentration camp…?”
This time he had to hold onto something while his laughter continued. Tears came to his eyes from laughing so hard, and he was still wiping them away as he finally finished. The trio were now a little agitated at being laughed, at so Ricki came to their rescue.
“The fence is to keep dogs and kangaroos out. The guys with rifles the others day do circuits to shoots rabbits, roos or any roving dogs to keep the area safe and prevent pests eating the vegetables. Can you imagine rabbits having a field day in this…hang on,” he said. “May I…?” he asked of one who had a rifle. It was passed to him and he swung it towards the city towers, letting off one shot, and then another. In the distance they now saw a rabbit fall over dead.
“Nice shot,” one of the gardeners said. “I’m Gerald and this story will be remembered for a long time. Come inside and have something to eat and we’ll explain how it all works.”
When the boys arrived back at Redcliffe later that evening, there were some very embarrassed people.
“Just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its cover,” Don admitted.
“Or a fence by its height!” Ricki added.
“So let’s get this right?” Harry asked. “They live and work there because they don’t want to live in the city, they are happy being separate, and they are happy working all day?”
“Yep!”
“Why? Don’t they take breaks?”