Me Ma Supial!

by Ged Maybury

  There has to be something! Isn't there a tool kit somewhere?

  What was that? An extra charge for the flare gun. No good. It was not an explosive, just a pyrotechnic device which gave light and heat.

  “Okay, okay,” she muttered aloud, “I read somewhere about a rock being cracked with fire and water. Right! Light a fire. Where’s the laser? – Of course! The laser!”

  It took her some minutes to find it, lying on the ground near last night’s fire. She picked it up and hurried back to the rock, studying the controls.

  There was no setting for rock.

  “What setting then?” she asked herself aloud, “Steel? Plastoid? Armour-glass? Need lots of heat. Okay, set it for steel.”

  She pressed the nozzle onto the clean spot Mica had scraped and pulled the trigger. “One chance,” she murmured grimly, “The whole charge, pour it in.”

  Mica came peering curiously around her shoulder.

  “Get away back!” she screeched at him, “This is dangerous!”

  The laser whined in her hand, getting hotter. A warning signal began, plus a tiny blinking orange light. The signal got shriller as the device got hotter. It was not designed for long, continuous bursts.

  She watched the charge meter running down towards zero and held the trigger hard on. The light was blinking red now and the signal was going crazy. 5%. 4%. 3%. She turned her face away, shut her eyes. If it was going to go, it had to be now.

  BANG! ROCK FRAGMENTS flew up, smacking at her skin. She leaped back, too late to avoid the stinging shower, and dropped the hot laser. Her ears were ringing. Ignoring the pain she turned back to look at the result.

  “Yes!”

  Mica helped his lovie clear away the broken rock, shoving and slithering it away down the slope over their rolling logs and the slippery wet ground. She was bleeding from two places but she pushed him away each time he tried to tend to her cuts.

  “That's enough!” she shouted as the last slab of rock slithered aside, then she was off running again, back to the skimmer for the fourth time.

  Mica watched as she packed the shiny blanket hastily under the seat. It didn't feel like a good time to be asking about breakfast. Instead he bent down and picked up her technobyte thing, the thing she had used to break the rock. It was hot, but all the lights had stopped blinking. Disappointed, he slipped it into his belt-bag, planning to examine it again later. Then he heard the sound of the skimmer starting up. Kynn was leaving!

  He ran, shouting. “Wait for me!”

  “I'm only moving it!” she replied crossly, stopping for him, “Just over there!”

  “I'm come too!” he insisted, getting on behind her. She sighed in frustration and eased on the power as soon as he was settled, steering them around a thick clump trees and parking it again almost at once. Mica was puzzled, but she gave him no explanation as she leapt off again. Then she stopped, looked at him a long few moments

  “We might have to escape quickly,” she told him levelly, “so I want you to wait for me right here, and don't touch anything!” She flipped up the seat and began rummaging in the keeping-place underneath. The crumpled shiny blanket was in the way and she shoved it aside angrily. Mica hoped she was looking for food. He spotted one of her tubes and reached for it helpfully.

  “No no no no! Not that! That's a flare-gun cartridge.”

  “But I'm hungry.”

  “Lordie!” she snapped, “You're always hungry!”

  He retreated, feeling confused and a bit hurt, still clutching the cartridge. He looked at her, trying to understand. She was so angry, so wild. What was the trouble?

  He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but was afraid she would once again push him away. Tears filled his eyes as he said, “Kynn Wheeler, you know I still love you.”

  She stopped what she was doing, looked around, met his gaze, and seemed to soften, “I'm... I'm sorry, Mica.” She heaved a big shaky sigh, came to him, hugged him briefly, and stood back again. “You have a good heart, Mica Supial. You have saved me many times. You brought me water, and showed me love. That means a lot to me.”

  She sucked in a long fluttering in-breath, then let it out, and did it once again. Mica smiled, seeing her using the calming breath just like his elders had taught him.

  “Mica,” she said in a controlled voice that still fluttered a little, “If this doesn't work, if they... if anything happens to me, then I want you to just run and run and run and don’t ever try to come back for me because I’m afraid they will kill you. I... I would prefer to remember you as the free spirit you are. To know that you’ll always be free. You and your people.” She choked on her quavering voice, angrily wiped away some tears, and said no more.

  He took her hand, “We'll stay together though,” he answered with utter confidence, “and I'll build us a little house and you will have babies, even without a pouch....”

  “Quiet!” she snapped, tilting her head to the east. They both listened.

  There was nothing at first, then a peculiar thrum rose above the sound of the early morning birds, a constant mosquito-like drone, getting louder.

  Kynn began to panic again. Mica tried to hold her but she broke away, wanting only to watch the sky. He tried to speak but she hushed him to silence. The sound was coming closer. Mica had heard it before. He knew what it was.

  “I'm not ready,” she kept saying, once again frantically sorting through the stuff in the skimmer’s keeping-space. “Slow them down, Lordie! I am not ready!”

  Mica was still holding the little metal canister he had picked out earlier and she took it from him in her haste, as if suddenly taken by a need for tidying up.

  Then she went very still, as if thinking deeply.

  “Of course!” she whispered.

  KYNN WAS READY NOW. She had a plan. And as the survey plane came in low and slow, as the pilot no doubt studied the landing place, she waited in the cover of a stiff-leafed bush full of tiny metallic-green insects. She was breathing steadily, very focused.

  The plane approached exactly as she had expected, in from clear air on the valley side, pads down, swivel-jets screaming. She could see him in the cockpit, his mouth moving, his face angry, shouting something at the pilot. She could imagine his words, “You faithless fool! The Lordie will give us the fuel we need! Now land!”

  Dust and leaves swirled up. She put her face down, shielding her eyes. Moments later she heard the jets winding down, felt the maelstrom of forest litter abating. The plane had landed. Less noise now. Less wind and dust. Quieter. Quieter.

  She looked now, blinking the remaining dust rapidly out of her eyes. The plane was only about eight metres away, huge and strange-looking after her days in the forest, its wings barely fitting within the clearing. Inside the cockpit, beyond the sloping glass just ten metres away, she could see her father standing, bent forward, peering out the windscreen, suspicious and angry, ready for action.

  Kynn knew that look: he wore it just prior to beating her in the temple, and when he had thrust her into that evil box. He had worn it so many many times.

  But this time she would answer back.

  She stood and walked forward into his sight. She saw his face twist. He shouted, just audible above the cacophony of the dying jets. His finger began that stabbing action, his mouth roaring out something as if there were no glass between them. She stopped, braced herself in the last of the hot swirling air, raised the flare gun, aimed carefully, and pulled the trigger.

  The recoil surprised her. Her wrist was jarred and she staggered a little. But the flare had launched successfully and that was what mattered. She had planned to reload at once, in case this one went astray, but she felt compelled to watch it fly.

  It leaped away, blazing to life almost instantly, but its flight was all too brief. It had barely begun to burn before it vanished into the spinning blades of the jet intake. With a surprisingly quiet bang the fan blades shattered. Hundreds of fragments burst out like a cloud and the smooth note of the engine su
ddenly turned to a hammering shudder.

  Thick white smoke began pouring from the jet nozzles under the wings. She had done it! Ruined his jet! Grounded him! His wrath would be immense!

  Some terrified shivering inner part of her now waited for yet another violent punishment.

  “No!”

  Forcing herself to turn she dived back into the trees, skirting out of sight around the clearing towards the skimmer just as she had planned. Behind her she could still hear the engine winding down, then the sound of the main hatch banging open, releasing smoke and shouts of panic.

  Then came his voice, loud and furious, “You corrupted little maggot! Come back here! I'll whip you proper this time!” Her guts heaved in fear, she almost stopped in her tracks, almost obeyed him! But instead she clamped tightly to her soul as if it were actually in her hands, and ran even faster.

  MICA'S FACE WAS FULL of fear, but the moment she appeared he broke into a mighty grin.

  “Get on!” she ordered him, leaping so violently onto the skimmer herself that she almost tipped it over, “Quick!” The thing screamed to life and jerked wildly forwards as she jammed down on the power peddle. With a fierce twist of the handles she banked steeply left, flying it almost sideways between the trees. As the hill dropped away below she swung right, skimming the tree tops, and saw a long valley sweeping away to the west just as she had expected. Kynn flicked it into a power-conserving glide and finally allowed herself the luxury of one quick glance back.

  There was no sign of the plane, or anything else.

  Just a wisp of white smoke drifting above the perfect forest.

  WILDERNESS

  THE POWER GAUGE WAS reading zero. Kynn let the skimmer sink onto its column of force, squeezing out the last of its charge to slide down through thick forest, seeking enough flat space to make a landing. Creatures scattered from below them; fleeting shapes undulating away into the shadows. Mammal, reptile or bird she could not tell.

  With a final scratching from the understorey and in a shower of dead leaves they landed roughly. She brushed herself clear of leaves and climbed off the skimmer, falling on jelly-like legs to the ground. Panting. Exhausted. It was done!

  Except she had no idea how badly she had damaged the plane.

  Oh: it would not fly again for a while, she was sure of that. Mica’s village was safe, at least for now, and so was she. But they would eventually find a way to fix it.

  Oh Lordie!

  She looked back at Mica, still hopefully sitting on the skimmer. “Can’t go further,” she told him, “It’s either walk, or re-charge.” She looked up through the thick canopy of trees and her hopes slumped. “Damn. Bad place. Need more sun.” Her voice was odd, coming in short bursts, and she didn’t seem to notice the fear in Mica’s face. “Must recharge. Contact Dr K. Move on.”

  Then Mica saw her head go down, her shoulders start to heave, “Oh Lordie! Lordie, Lordie, Lordie what have I done?”

  Despite his fear he got off to comfort her, and this time she let him.

  Then unexpectedly she stood up straight, growling at herself, “Oh why am I worrying about them! They'll have survival gear, reserve power, the radio...”

  Mica interrupted her, tugging her westwards. “Bad place here! Drop bears!”

  “Drop bears?”

  “They live all around here. Old Wallaroo told us. We came through this way to the Ancestor's Place, not far over,” he pointed west, “between here and the river.”

  Kynn looked up at the trees, worried. What were those things she'd seen running away? How big were these 'drop bears' anyway? And how come she had never heard of them before? Something stirred in her memory, from somewhere long ago.

  “Don't worry,” she said with whatever confidence she could muster, “We've still got this!” She waved the now-empty flare gun.

  He smiled, uncertainly, and then seemed to have a joyful idea. Tugging open his belt-bag he pulled out the cutting-laser, “And this!”

  Kynn began to laugh, a weak, almost hysterical laughter that shook at her guts cruelly. And she could not stop. It was not only laughter, but sobbing too, mixed so inextricably together that she could not experience one without the other.

  After this spasm had passed, mostly in Mica's arms, she pulled herself together and began silently sorting their supplies. She loaded the other flare cartridge into the gun, secured the safety catch, and packed it into the little emergency backpack. She added the two remaining food-tubes, a tightly folded water-bottle to fill somewhere along the way, the tiny medical kit and the space-blanket. Then they spent some time clearing enough space for the recharge panels. Not the best layout, with panels propped against tree trucks and draped over weirdly-angled roots, but it was all she could do.

  All the time Mica gazed nervously up into the tree tops, ready with the laser. Kynn let him, though she knew it would barely cook a potato at point-blank range, now.

  And besides, she thought with a smile, I don’t think we’re going to see any drop-bears today.

  “Let’s go.” she finally said.

  “Where?”

  “Um, I'm not sure, but this doesn't seem a nice place to camp.”

  “I agree!” he said with relief, “We'll need water soon, and firewood, bed-bark, and a good big log-full of dinner grubs. And can we eat now? I'm really hungry!”

  THEY SHARED ONE OF the food-tubes, a slimy salty paste of indistinct flavour that was 98 years beyond its use-by date. Then she tugged out the skimmer's remote control which automatically turned it on. She knew she had to set some sort of security code on the skimmer, something that would stop anyone else (well, him) from intercepting her calls or blocking her access. But what? What would he never think of? Of course!

  Setting it to audio she set up a password, “Me Ma Supial.”

  Mica looked up, interested. She did not explain, just shut the unit and strapped it on over her coverall. Now she could still stay in touch with Dr K.

  “Right, let's get going,” she said to Mica. He was only too glad to move out. She chose a westerly line and started through the trees. Mica quickly moved into the front, alert for dangers she knew nothing of. She let him.

  After about an hour they met a meandering stream and beyond that a low cliff. It looked to be an easy climb so they crossed and went up. The trees were thinner on the dry stony ridge at the top. It took a while, but the going was very easy now, steering them steadily westwards.

  Mica chanced upon a rotting log and stopped to harvest dinner grubs. Kynn relented and let him take the time to build a fire and roast them.

  They tasted much better than her hundred-year-old paste.

  BY MID-AFTERNOON THEY came to a fractured landscape of small cliffs, sink-holes and strange grey rocks carved into a thousand shapes by the weather. Limestone. The tree-cover grew thick in the damp hollows and the way west began to look hopeless.

  “I remember rocks like these,” said Mica as he paused to get his bearings, “but they were on our sunrise side, so we're in the wrong place for reaching the river now. Bad place to get down at the end of this ridge. Many cliffs. Very steep.”

  “Let's try south then,” Kynn suggested, pointing into a deep gully that headed that way, “Looks like a better way, and I need a drink anyway.”

  “Me too.”

  They went down and found a clean trickle of surprisingly cold water. As Mica drank he looked around. “Old Catfish once told me about a place like this, cold water that comes straight out of the ground.”

  “There'll be caves around here,” she said, looking up and around at the rocks, “I've read about this sort of rock in a book.” Kynn recalled the day Dr K had slipped into her tiny cabin and slid three science books from a metal briefcase, whispering conspiratorially about ‘getting a bit of decent reading around here’. The memory nearly set her crying again.

  “You can read books?” Mica sounded really surprised.

  She snapped out of her mood, “Well, yes.”

  “Lorikeet
can do that too,” he said proudly, then added, “Hey, can you teach me?”

  She answered haltingly, “If we ever... if...” then she seemed to change, “Yes, I'll teach you. Definitely!”

  He beamed with delight.

  She paused, choosing her next words with care, “You know, with the right technology you and your village could change all of those CD-Roms into books.”

  “Those what?”

  “Ah, those ... What did you call them: 'Knowledge Wheels'?”

  “Ah! You mean, you know how to make them spin and sing?”

  “Maybe. With luck, yes.”

  “So is that why they call you a Wheeler!”

  “N-no, not really. But I might be able to do it with the right ‘technobytes’.” She decided to risk all, “So, I was wondering, could you take me to the place you get them? It's not far, is it?”

  Mica peered up at the sky, then studied the shadows on the walls of rock that were now all around them. “I don't know. This isn't the way I came. We'll need to go more to the sunset, find the cliffs above the river. This is a bad place for going straight.”

  Kynn tried to remember the lie of the land from the skimmer's maps. “Isn't it more that way?” She pointed south.

  He looked at her, awed that she knew the way. Then his face brightened, “Ah! I know how you know! All those coloured lines in the look-window. They tell you the way, because the skimmer is full of technobytes!”

  It was her turn to look awed.

  THEY FOLLOWED THE NARROW winding valley for some hours. They were moving roughly south. But the sky was clouding over and the shadows were becoming indistinct. It was also incredibly hot and Kynn was glad to be down in the cool gully.

  At another time she might have found it a beautiful place, but today it was all struggle and worry. And she had plenty to worry about: Doctor K, sitting alone up there, helpless and out of touch; the terrible needless deaths in Ocean Village; the Supials still in danger; the colony living under the shadow of her father's madness; and the sheer waste of landing pods and fuel!