Wraith

by Shane Smithers

  Aureole stabbed a piece of cucumber with her fork. ‘He told me where he thinks the SAFFIRE is.’ She took a delicate bite.

  James continued to chew. He’d taken too big a mouthful to stop and ask a question. Aureole went on, ‘He said the man who took him to hospital picked up the SAFFIRE with some tongs, just like we thought.’

  James nodded, still chewing.

  ‘You know, you really should not take such large bites.

  It’s not good for your digestion.’ She had a mixture of concern and disgust on her face.

  James nodded again as he struggled to swallow the last of his mouthful. ‘So, who’s this man and where is he now?’ he asked.

  ‘Mr Yakuza said he is the ship’s engineer. Apparently, he is staying not far from the lighthouse down at the docks.’

  ‘That little red and white lighthouse we saw?’ James took another large mouthful of burger.

  Aureole scooped up some lettuce and took a few nibbles, as if to say, this is how it’s done. ‘Somewhere near there. Do you always eat like this?’

  James swallowed and shrugged. ‘When I’m hungry. He didn’t tell you the name of the place?’

  Aureole shook her head and put her fork down. ‘He could not remember, only that it had a long name.’

  ‘I suppose it’s better than nothing.’ James leaned back in his chair and stretched. He was feeling much more opti-mistic now that he had a full stomach. He picked up his carton of milk and began to skull the contents, noticed Aureole’s jaw suddenly drop. ‘Sorry, do you want some?’ he said, holding the carton out for her to take.

  ‘No.’ She pointed at the carton. ‘Is . . . Is that you?’

  James frowned and twisted the carton around and swore under his breath. He stared at the picture of himself, a slightly younger version.

  Written above his mug shot was just one word: MISSING!

  ~

  Collins stepped menacingly from the elevator, his eyes scanning the corridor. Wilson nearly ran into the back of him. ‘Don’t just stand there, we’ve gotta find ’em,’ he said and dashed off down the corridor to his right.

  Collins remained motionless just outside the lift, with his arms crossed, watching Wilson run back and forth from room to room, disappear down one corridor, race back up another.

  Finally, out of breath, Wilson returned and said, ‘I couldn’t find ’em . . . How about you?’

  Collins shook his head and then started down the only corridor Wilson hadn’t traversed. Halfway down the hall, he detoured toward the cafeteria. An aroma of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air. He stepped forward, pushed on the glass doors . . .

  ‘No time for that,’ said Wilson. ‘We’ve gotta find them kids. Let’s look outside.’

  Collins stopped and let the doors slowly swing closed. He looked longingly at the salad bar, his stomach giving a disappointed growl.

  ‘Come on,’ said Wilson, pulling on Collins’s huge arm.

  They searched the hospital grounds for a full hour and then headed for the car park.

  ‘They’re probably long gone,’ said Wilson, sliding into the passenger seat and winding down the window – the interior smelt fishy. ‘Erebus ain’t gonna be pleased.’

  ~

  ‘What do you mean, you couldn’t see Mr Yakuza?’ said Erebus, raising his voice an octave.

  Wilson tried to explain. ‘Visiting hours was over when we got there.’

  ‘Visiting hours!’ interrupted Erebus. ‘Visiting hours! I didn’t break you out of prison and drive you all the way down here so that you could worry about visiting hours!’

  ‘Well the nurse said . . .’

  ‘The nurse said –’ Erebus shook his head in despair.

  ‘What am I paying you idiots for?’ He put his face millimetres from Wilson’s. ‘To do what the nice nurse says?’ Wilson jerked back. ‘You’re supposed to walk straight in there and interrogate the sailor,’ Erebus shouted.

  ‘But you said not to draw attention to ourselves,’ said Wilson. ‘We can go back tomorrow.’

  Smack!

  Erebus slapped Wilson across the back of the head.

  ‘Ow, what’d you do that for?’ Wilson brushed his hair flat with his hand.

  ‘You don’t know?’

  The three stood motionless for a few moments, the two cons staring at the black-and-white tiled floor.

  Wilson looked up. ‘We did see somethin’ really unusual, though,’ he said excitedly. ‘A couple of kids.’

  Erebus sat down on the lounge and ran his fingers across his short-cropped hair. ‘You saw a couple of kids in the hospital. What’s so unusual about that?’

  ‘These kids were weird. Well, at least the girl was,’ said Wilson. ‘The boy seemed okay.’

  Erebus leaned back with a sigh, put his feet on the coffee table and closed his eyes. ‘What was so weird about her?’ he said, only half-listening.

  ‘Well, for starters, the girl was s’posed to be Mr Yakuza’s niece, but with eyes like that . . . she didn’t look Japanese,’ said Wilson.

  Erebus suddenly sat up straight and turned to face his two henchmen. ‘What do you mean, Mr Yakuza’s niece?’

  ‘The nurse said . . .’ Wilson waited a moment, ‘that she was his niece and she’d just been in to visit him.’

  ‘What did she look like?’ asked Erebus, all ears now.

  ‘Oh, she was ’bout this high,’ said Wilson, lifting his hand to shoulder height. ‘Not too skinny, not too fat.’

  ‘What was wrong with her eyes? You said she didn’t look Japanese.’

  ‘Well, her hair was the right style, long and jet-black, but her eyes, well, her eyes . . .’ Wilson trailed off.

  ‘What about them?’

  Wilson shifted his focus to Collins, looking uncom-fortable. ‘Her eyes were the weirdest colour. They were the palest blue I’ve ever seen. Ain’t that right, Collins?’

  Collins gave a nod.

  ‘Jackdaw,’ said Wilson.

  ‘What?’ said Erebus.

  ‘Jackdaw. Collins reckons they were remarkably similar to the colour of the eyes of a bird called a Jackdaw. It’s a kind of crow, found in Africa and Europe. He said it’s the only member of the genus outside Australasia to . . .’

  ‘How old was she?’ interrupted Erebus impatiently. ‘What?’ said Wilson.

  ‘How old was the girl?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, it’s hard to tell these days with kids . . . thirteen . . . fifteen, maybe older, maybe younger.’

  ‘What about the boy? You said there was a boy. Did he have unusual eyes as well?’

  ‘Nah, his were normal. Cheeky little bugger, though.’ Wilson sniggered.

  ‘Did you go after them?’

  Wilson’s shoulders dropped. ‘By the time we got down to the foyer they’d gone. What do you think they were doin’? Do you think they were lookin’ for the SAFFIRE?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Erebus almost to himself. He stroked the stubble on his face. Could the competition that Scarlet mentioned be . . . kids? It didn’t make sense. But he couldn’t take any chances. Never underestimate your oppo-nents, he thought.

  ‘What are we gonna do?’ asked Wilson.

  ‘I thought it would be obvious,’ said Erebus, but Wilson looked at him blankly. ‘We need to find the SAFFIRE as soon as possible.’

  ‘How we gonna do that?’

  ‘You’re going back to the hospital,’ replied Erebus. He pointed at the door. ‘NOW!’

  FORTY-TWO

  Woodville Road, Adelaide, South Australia

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ said James, still holding the milk carton as they walked away from the hospital. ‘Why? Why? Why?’ This was bad, really bad.

  Aureole took the carton from him for a closer inspection. ‘So, when someone goes missing down here,’ she said, frowning slightly, ‘they stick their picture on drink items?’

  ‘Milk cartons,’ corrected James. ‘But normally they just put up posters. Missing people haven’t been on milk c
artons for years.’ He glanced around the crowded street, his eyes stopping at a middle-aged woman who gave him a fleeting smile. ‘There’s a woman staring at me,’ he whispered. He pretended to scratch his head, put up his hand to hide his face.

  ‘Where?’ said Aureole, quickly looking over her shoulder.

  ‘Not that far round,’ James whispered. ‘Over there beside the postbox.’

  ‘Where?’ Aureole looked about, finally spotting the postbox. ‘There is no one there.’ James peeked over his hand, but the woman had disappeared. ‘You have already become paranoid.’

  ‘Shut up! She was there, I saw her.’

  Aureole handed back the milk carton. ‘How old are you in that photo? Ten?’

  ‘Eleven. It was taken at my grandmother’s. She insisted on having me stand near her famous rosebush. She said it would kill two stones with one bush,’ James recalled with a sigh. ‘She’s always mixing up her metaphors.’ As they walked, He leaned over and showed Aureole his arm. ‘I still have the scar from where the thorns got me.’

  ‘Except for that dazed expression on your face, you looked quite cute.’ Aureole sounded sincere.

  James shot her a sideways glance. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘So, what happened?’ James put on an unimpressed expression.

  ‘Joking,’ she said with a short laugh. ‘Just joking.’ ‘Anyway,’ said James. ‘I think I should ring Darren.’ ‘Why?’

  ‘Obviously someone reported me missing. And since my parents don’t seem to be around, it must have been Darren. He might know where my parents are.’

  Aureole gripped his arm and they stopped walking. ‘Maybe you should go home,’ she said, turning to him.

  James was speechless for a few seconds. ‘What? Are you trying to get rid of me? After all we’ve been through?’ He thought they made a good team.

  ‘No. I am not trying to get rid of you.’ Aureole looked away and then back at him again, her expression hard to read. ‘Are you not feeling homesick?’

  ‘When did you start caring about my feelings?’ said James. He shoved his hands in his pockets and Aureole let go of his arm.

  ‘That is not fair,’ she said.

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  Aureole handed him her phone without making comment.

  Darren’s phone rang for ages; he didn’t have voicemail. James was about to hang up when a woman’s voice answered. ‘Hello?’

  James drew a sharp breath. It was Darren’s mum. Should he hang up? No. She might have heard from his parents. ‘Hello, Mrs Fox,’ he said, grimacing.

  ‘James! James, is that you?’ said Mrs Fox.

  ‘Yes,’ said James. He knew what was coming.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she screeched, causing James to yank the phone away from his ear. ‘We’ve all been worried sick.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Fox. I – I . . .’ What could he tell her? More to the point, what would she believe?

  ‘Why didn’t you go to your grandmother’s? Were you kidnapped?’

  James hesitated. ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘What do you mean not exactly? Where are you?’

  ‘I – I’m sorry, Mrs Fox, I can’t tell you. But, I’m all right though. You needn’t worry.’

  ‘Are you in trouble? I’ll come and get you. Just tell me where you are, dear.’ Mrs Fox’s voice wavered slightly and then James could hear Darren in the background.

  ‘Give me the phone, Mum. Let me speak to him.’ There was a muffled knocking on the end of the line. Darren must be wresting the phone off his mother.

  ‘Just tell him to come home,’ said Mrs Fox in the background. She sounded like she was on the verge of crying.

  ‘All right, Mum. Just let me have some privacy.’ There was silence. The next thing James heard was, ‘Where the bloody hell have you been? I thought you were dead!’

  James jerked the phone away from his ear again. ‘I can’t explain right now.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘There’s too much to tell, but I’m safe.’

  Darren, lowering his voice, said, ‘I didn’t know whether you crashed somewhere. Or flew too far and couldn’t get back.’

  ‘I didn’t crash. But I couldn’t ring you till now.’

  ‘You have no idea what I’ve been through,’ said Darren, his voice starting to rise again. ‘I’ve looked for you every day. Just after you disappeared, someone named Cordelia rang asking to speak to you. Mum told her you were at your grandmother’s. Then this Cordelia rang back and said you weren’t. I couldn’t tell Mum anything – she wouldn’t have believed me.’ Darren paused for a moment and James could hear him breathing heavily, as if he’d just run a very long way. ‘I tell you, mate, when Mum found out you weren’t at your grandmother’s . . . I wish the ground had opened up and swallowed me. She started crying. She thought you must have been kidnapped at Adelaide airport or something. I tried to tell her you never went to Adelaide, but she was in such a state.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I really am,’ said James. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, but it wasn’t even his fault. ‘I’ve tried ringing my parents, but they’re not answering. Do you know where they are?’

  There was a pause at the other end. Then Darren said, ‘They haven’t come back from New Zealand yet. You received a postcard in the mail a week after you . . . disappeared, saying they were going to be away a little longer and not to worry. We’ve tried ringing them, too, but it just goes straight to your mum’s voicemail.’

  ‘I got a postcard?’ My parents sent me a postcard. A postcard! Who sends postcards anymore? Why they didn’t just call?

  ‘Yeah, Mum and I thought it was a bit peculiar at the time. Why didn’t they just phone?’ said Darren. ‘The cop investigating your disappearance, Sergeant Cavum, seemed pretty surprised, too.’ Cavum . . . Where had James heard that name before? Then he remembered watching Darren talking to the agent from NIB. ‘Anyway,’ Darren continued, ‘Mum’s, like, totally mental. You need to come home.’

  ‘Sorry, but I can’t at the moment.’

  ‘Are you in some sort of trouble?’

  ‘No, nothing like that.’

  ‘Then why can’t you come back?’ Darren paused for a brief second. Then he whispered, ‘You can still fly, can’t you?’

  ‘Yes. That’s not the reason.’

  ‘Well, then why? Has it got to do with that Cordelia woman?’

  ‘No.’ James wondered how much he could tell Darren. He gave his word he wouldn’t tell anyone about Nebulosity. ‘I’m . . . I’m on a mission.’ Aureole tapped him on the shoulder and shook her head, motioning him not to say anymore.

  ‘What sort of mission?’ Darren’s voice sounded confused.

  This was so hard. James had never kept anything from Darren. He tapped the phone against his head a few times, paused, and then with a sigh said, ‘I can’t say. It’s complicated.’

  ‘At least tell me where you are,’ Darren pleaded. ‘Adelaide,’ James said before he could stop himself.

  Aureole gave him a hard wack on the arm.

  ‘Adelaide? I don’t understand. You went to your grandmother’s?’

  ‘No,’ said James while rubbing his arm and glaring at Aureole. ‘As I said, it’s complicated.’

  ‘Then, I’ll come down,’ said Darren. ‘I’ll convince Mum and . . .’

  ‘No,’ said James hurriedly. ‘But I do need your help.’

  ‘What? Anything.’

  ‘Can you get me off the missing persons list? My face is printed on milk cartons!’

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s Mum’s fault. My uncle knows one of the managers at the factory. She wouldn’t leave him alone until he made it happen.’

  ‘Can you tell that cop I’m okay?’

  ‘You know he’ll just take you from missing persons to runaway.’

  James thought for a moment. ‘As long as they take my picture off the cartons, I don’t care.’

  Aureole mouthed the words, ‘Time to go.’ James nodded.

  Da
rren was in the middle of saying “Please, let me come down”, when James interrupted. ‘I’ve got to go. If you find out anything about Mum and Dad, um . . . I’ll ring you later,’ he said and hung up. He handed Aureole back her phone. ‘He said my parents are still in New Zealand! They haven’t called or anything. It just doesn’t make sense. How come NIB couldn’t find them?’

  Aureole looked like she didn’t know what to say. James wandered in a small circle, kicking the ground.

  ‘It doesn’t make sense,’ he said again. ‘I hope they’re all right.’

  FORTY-THREE

  Docks, Port River, Adelaide, South Australia

  ‘I wish I had a little more information to go on,’ muttered Cirro as he stood on a dock at Port Adelaide surveying his surroundings. Batak had written down coded coordinates in his letter. Fortunately for Cirro, Angie had been able to crack it in a matter of seconds using a simple mobile phone – the letters had matched numbers found on the same keys. The co-ordinates led to a vessel draped in tarpaulins. From the size and shape, Cirro recognised it as a whaling ship.

  He boarded the ship pretending to be a safety inspector, and found a large hole leading right down to the engine bay. Aureole had been correct – the SAFFIRE had hit a passing ship, and he knew he’d never hear the end of that .

  Aureole and James were not on board, but the sailors had mentioned two teenage trespassers. They also mentioned two men, hanging about, asking questions. Cirro had an uneasy feeling . . . Could there be others looking for the SAFFIRE? It seemed unlikely. The SAFFIRE was top secret. Agrariens wouldn’t know about it.

  Despite this, the uneasy feeling didn’t dissipate. Nevertheless, his mandate was clear: his first priority was finding the children. It wasn’t going to be easy. He was well aware that, now that he’d lost a day by returning to Nebulosity for Australian documents and money, James and Aureole could be anywhere. The hopper, on the other hand, shouldn’t be too difficult to locate. All hoppers had a short-range tracking system built into their mainframe. No one had ever thought of making them long range because it wasn’t usual for hoppers to go outside Nebulosity airspace. Cirro made a mental note to have that rectified when he returned home. He pulled out his signal locator and switched it on. The small monitor flickered and then went blank.