‘What are these ruins called, Ron?’ asked Brian.
‘This is all Lan Laroi. It means “The Place of Safety”.’
‘That’s what Lan Laroi means?’
‘That’s it,’ said Milne. ‘The safe place.’
Brian looked around him. ‘This is almost hard to imagine.’
Milne pointed along the canal. ‘There’s twenty-one of these buildings in the bay. But before they constructed the buildings, they had to make twenty-one artificial islands out of coral for the foundations. That was before they brought all the millions of tonnes of stone logs over from the other side of the island for the buildings. Originally, this bay was much deeper. All those trees you see growing, they’re only growing here because of the buildings. And all those dead trees around the place aren’t dead from salt water. They’re dead from old age. They took root amongst the foundations. Then lived their lives and died. That’s how long the ruins have been here.’ Milne turned around and took a leak.
Brian stood shaking his head in wonder. ‘But who …?’
‘Why don’t you take some photos and do your own thing for a while. And I’ll meet you back here in a couple of hours. Then we’ll have some lunch.’
‘Okay,’ said Brian. ‘Where are you going?’
Milne zipped up and turned around. ‘I’m going to get a bit of quiet time, and have a think for a while.’ The President picked up his backpack and threw it over his shoulder. ‘See you when I get back,’ he said with a smile, and took off along the path that ran alongside the canal.
Brian watched him disappear around the corner then got his own backpack. He had a drink of water, checked his camera and started climbing the steps at the entrance in the wall.
The steps were massive stone logs stacked lengthwise and must have been made for giants. They went up to a trail edged with more stones and into a terraced courtyard surrounded by the huge walls. The trail then led to a room built into the ground beneath piles of stone logs. Brian wasn’t sure what was down there, but he decided against climbing in and having a look. Instead, he photographed it and just wandered around mesmerised. The monolith was an engineering masterpiece that would be practically impossible to build today. He climbed one wall and looked around. There were buildings and walls everywhere, right out to the edge of the reef. Where the bay edged into the jungle, Brian could see more walls and buildings amongst the dense foliage. Brian roamed around the walls and buildings and along trails laid out next to the canals. Along the sides of the trails, countless stone logs had been tossed in the shallow water like discarded housebricks on a building site. As he trudged along, Brian was thankful Milne had warned him about the crushed dry coral. It was everywhere, like lumps of razor-sharp white flint. If you fell on it you’d get shredded, not to mention blood poisoning. After a while, Brian stopped for a drink and started looking for answers. All he got was questions.
Who built the monoliths? Why? When? And how? Were they fortresses? What were they? How did they get the massive stone logs over from the other side of the island? With no roads, no trucks, no boats. And if they did have a boat big enough, there was no crane to load them on or stack them up. What did they draw the plans on? Who thought them out? What about workboots, gloves, safety helmets? Fresh water? Brian picked up a piece of jagged coral. That was another question — which union organised the safety conditions? What about wages? Brian looked at his watch. It was already time to meet Milne back at the boat. The President was coming back along the trail when Brian got there.
‘Did you have a good look around?’ asked Milne, when he reached the boat. ‘Get plenty of photos?’
‘Three rolls. And I’d like to take another hundred and three,’ replied Brian.
‘You want to come back?’
‘Do I what. This is mind-blowing, Ron.’
‘I thought you’d like it.’ Milne took his backpack off. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘A bit. Yeah.’
‘Good. Cause I’m fuckin starving.’
Milne got the esky from the boat and they made themselves comfortable amongst the stone logs while Ron broke out the food: ham and salad rolls with tubs of sliced fruit and mineral water, and a thermos with enough rich, strong coffee for four small cups.
‘No hot ones and cool ones, Ron?’ asked Brian.
Milne shook his head. ‘I tried getting back from here out of it once. It’s not a go. Not with those reefs breaking and whale sharks all over the place.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Brian, biting into a ham and salad roll.
They got down to the coffee and Brian looked directly at President Milne. ‘Okay, Ron,’ he said. ‘What’s the story? Who built all this? Not to mention the why? And the fuckin how?’
‘Forget the who and the when, for the time being,’ said Milne. ‘But I think I can tell you how.’
‘You can? All right. How?’
‘Magnetism. Somehow they levitated the rocks into place using magnetism.’
‘Magnetism?’
‘Yeah,’ replied Milne. ‘This whole island is one big magnetic field. And the epicentre is up here in the ruins.’
‘It is?’ said Brian.
Milne nodded. ‘That’s why the natives won’t come here. Their ears start to ring and they get dizzy, and sick headaches. They think it’s evil spirits in the ruins. But it’s something in their DNA, because it doesn’t effect old whitey.’
‘Is that why they think you’re Sawi?’ asked Brian. ‘Because you can come up here and nothing happens to you?’
‘That’s … part of the deal,’ said Milne. He picked up a piece of rock and rubbed it against one of the stones. It made an odd ringing sound. ‘All these basalt logs have got magnetic properties. Whoever it was, they knew how to move the rocks by magnetism.’ Milne gestured. ‘Unless you’ve got a better way of moving millions of tonnes of rocks without trucks or a crane.’
Slowly, Brian shook his head. ‘I’ll take your word for it. You’d be flat out lifting some of those rocks even with a crane.’ Brian ran a hand along one of the stone logs. ‘They’re all laid so precisely, too.’ Brian shook his head again. ‘I still can’t get over them building the artificial islands. How the fuck did they do that?’
Milne nodded to the ocean. ‘Where we came in, there’s underwater columns over fifteen metres high.’
‘There’s what?’
‘You’ve only seen part of the place, Brian,’ smiled the President. ‘There’s a lot more to it than this.’
‘I’ve got to come back,’ said Brian. ‘I’m going to do a story on this place.’
‘No worries.’ Milne rinsed the coffee cups by the side of the boat. ‘Anyway, go and have another look around. Take some more photos. Then we’ll get going. I want to call in and see the prisoners. Then go for a surf.’
‘Okay,’ said Brian. ‘I won’t be long.’
Brian got his camera and walked around taking more photos. He stood near one of the huge stone logs on the bottom and tried to imagine what it would have been like building the monoliths, who knows how long ago? No TV, no radio. Nothing to read. The safe place. Brian looked around. Why call it that? Though if it was a fortress, it would be pretty safe all right. You’d need an Exocet missile to blast a hole in any of the walls. And that mightn’t do the job. Brian took another couple of photos and walked back to the boat. Milne was patiently waiting for him, drinking a bottle of mineral water.
‘Get some more photos?’ he asked.
‘Reckon,’ replied Brian. ‘Especially this wall alongside the canal.’
‘Good.’ Milne finished the mineral water and put the empty in the esky. ‘Anyway, the tide’s coming in, so we’ll get going.’
Brian climbed in the boat and Milne started the motor. The water was deeper now and they were able to cross where they had come in fairly quickly. Once they reached open water Milne gunned the motor and they headed back out around the reefs.
With Milne keeping an eye out for whale sharks and anything else, the m
angrove swamps went past, then the beaches and jungle. Brian sat deep in thought, wondering about the ruins. Before long they were nearing the cliffs and Milne swung the boat towards Tiger Island. As it approached, he slowed down and got the pistol from his backpack. He checked it, put it back in its holster and strapped the holster round his waist.
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ said the President. ‘Just stay behind me.’
‘Okay if I take some photos?’ asked Brian.
‘Sure. Why not?’
The rocky little island was dotted with coconut trees and surrounded by deep coral reefs swarming with brightly coloured fish. Brian was peering into the blue at some fish when a huge grey shape appeared in the gloom for a moment then disappeared. There was a small white beach on one side of the island. Milne crunched the runabout up onto the sand and cut the motor. He jumped out and Brian followed him with his camera.
Two men and a woman appeared amongst the coconut trees outside the stone building Brian had noticed when he flew in. They were all dressed in white from their hats to their shoes and, apart from the men being unshaven, they all looked tanned and healthy. They spoke amongst themselves for a moment, then started walking down a trail through the bushes towards them. One man was of medium build with a grainy, hatchet face and pale blue eyes; the other was younger, taller and more heavily built, with a fuller face and thick eyebrows. The woman had long dark hair, cold dark eyes and a hard, bony face. Walking in the front, the older man had number one on his top, the other man two and the woman three. Brian raised his camera and through the viewfinder noticed that the prisoners didn’t appear at all happy to see them.
Milne rested a hand on his holster. ‘Hello, Beagle Boys one, two and three,’ he said cheerfully. ‘How’s things at the Lan Laroi Holiday Inn? You being looked after?’
The prisoners exchanged glances, then the older one shouted, ‘Now!’
Ignoring Brian, the prisoners ran at Milne and overpowered him, forcing the President down under a barrage of punches and kicks.
‘Hey, Brian,’ he yelled out, covering up beneath the melee. ‘You’d better give me a hand, mate.’
Brian hated brawling and would do anything to avoid getting involved in a fight. Nevertheless, he dropped his camera, ran straight over to the scrum and thumped his knee into the woman’s kidneys. She gave a yelp, then turned around and tried to kick Brian in the groin. Brian grabbed the leg of her pants, flipped her up and punched her in the thigh, corking her leg. She yelped again and grabbed her leg. Brian landed a short right on the woman’s bony nose, putting her on her back. The older man was wrestling round with Milne exchanging punches, bites and curses while the bigger man was trying to loosen the gun from Milne’s holster. He got it out, stood up then aimed the gun at Brian and squeezed off three quick shots. Brian froze in his tracks, gasped with horror and clutched at his chest. The big man then turned the gun on Milne and fired another three shots point-blank at the President’s head. Milne kept fighting.
‘It’s okay, Brian,’ he yelled. ‘They’re blanks.’
Brian let go of his chest and looked at his hands. There was no blood. The big man fired another two shots at Brian then emptied the clip at the President before stopping to stare at the gun.
‘You cunt,’ Brian shouted at the big man. ‘You just tried to kill me.’
Brian stepped across and kicked the big man straight in the balls. The big man howled with pain, dropped the gun and clutched at his groin. Brian picked the gun up by the barrel and smashed the butt between the big man’s shoulder blades. He grunted and dropped to his knees. Brian gave him another one in the neck.
Milne continued fighting the last prisoner, but now it was no match. He punched and kicked the older man till he was curled up in a ball trying to cover his head with both hands. Milne looked down at him for a moment, then walked across to Brian and took the gun. He got a fresh clip of bullets from his shorts, reloaded the pistol and shoved the barrel between the cracks of the older man’s backside.
‘Okay, Lee Britt, you prick,’ said Milne. ‘This time the bullets are real. You so much as blink and I’ll blow your arse all over this fuckin island. You hear me?’ Lee Britt nodded and muttered something. Milne stood up and trained the gun on the other two prisoners. ‘The same goes for you two morons as well.’
‘Fuck you,’ said the woman.
‘What!’ Milne walked over and cracked the barrel across her shin. ‘You cheeky French moll. How dare you talk to Sawi like that.’
Milne looked at the three prisoners lying on the trail in various degrees of pain and started laughing. ‘Fair dinkum, you’re a deadset goose, Lee Britt. You could have saved yourself a hiding. I called in to tell you the goddamn US of A’s mounting a rescue mission, and they’re coming to get you. You’re going home.’
‘What did you say?’ said Lee Britt, through cracked lips. ‘They’re coming to get me?’
‘They sure as hell are, pilgrim. All of you. Clooney’s sending in the cavalry. Probably this weekend.’
‘How do you know all this?’ asked the big man.
‘I just do,’ replied Milne. ‘But if you don’t believe me, you’ve got a TV in the hut. Watch CNN.’
Lee Britt spat some blood on the ground. ‘If I do get off this island, Milne, I’ll be back. And next time, your ass is mine.’
Milne looked at Lee Britt for a moment. ‘You know, I’m starting to wonder about you and my arse, Lee Britt. Hey, Lee Britt.’
‘Yeah what?’
‘You’re not a pooftah are you?’
‘Go to hell.’
‘How come you’re letting them take us?’ asked the big man. ‘Aren’t you going to put up a fight?’
‘For you three?’ said Milne. ‘Piss off. If they want you, they can have you. I got fuck-all to fight with anyway.’
‘My government will come back too, you Australian bastard,’ said the woman. ‘And when they do, they will blow you and your stinking island to pieces.’
‘Don’t be too sure, Frog Box,’ said Milne. ‘You know what your army’s like. One shot over their heads and they’ll throw the towel in.’
‘Fuck you.’
Milne held the gun up. ‘Watch your mouth, moll. You want a fresh one?’
The woman glared sullenly at Milne. The President put the gun in his holster and rubbed his hands together. ‘Anyway, folks, I just called in to give you the good news and say goodbye. Because I probably won’t see you again.’ The President smiled and snapped them a salute. ‘So thanks very much, and please keep in touch. I’ll be running along. Adios muchachos.’ Milne gave Lee Britt one last kick in the backside then turned to Brian. ‘Come on, Takatau, let’s hit the toe.’
Brian picked up his camera and followed Milne back to the boat. They pushed it out from the beach and jumped on board.
‘What the fuck was that all about?’ asked Brian.
‘I’ll tell you about it when we get home,’ chuckled Milne. ‘We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.’ Milne kicked the motor over and they sped off.
The three prisoners watched them leave. The big man rubbed his neck and turned to Lee Britt.
‘Do you believe him, Tanton?’ Agent Taggart asked.
‘I sure do,’ replied Lee Britt. ‘This goes right up to the President. Sonofabitch! I knew the agency wouldn’t forget me.’
‘My God! I hope it is true,’ said the woman. ‘I can’t wait to get off this fucking island and away from those fucking sharks.’
‘Me too,’ said Agent Taggart. ‘So I guess all we got to do now is wait.’
Lee Britt wiped some blood from his mouth. ‘Yeah. And I want them to shoot the place up before we leave.’
‘Why don’t we just get out of here first,’ said the woman. ‘Then come back and shoot the place up a la carte.’
‘Good idea,’ said Agent Taggart. ‘Hey, I wonder who the guy with Milne was?’
‘I don’t know,’ said the woman, rubbing her nose. ‘But if he’s here when we
come back, I intend to do something about his good looks.’
Brian never said a word on the way in. He was too deep in thought. Once again he thought he was dead. Only this time it had all happened too fast to sink in. But Brian was thinking mainly about the change that had come over him. He’d never hit a woman in his life. Or even dreamed about smashing someone with a gun butt. Now he couldn’t jump into the blue quick enough. And with a vengeance. Was he starting to go troppo? Was it all the booze and pot? Or was it concern for Milne? Brian had time to notice Windmills was working as they scooted up the channel, then Milne had the runabout across the harbour and alongside the marina.
Ohlo and Sohte were waiting when they pulled in. Milne tossed them the rope, then he and Brian got off carrying their bags. Milne was beaming. He grinned and slapped Brian on the back.
‘Mate. What can I say? You saved old Sawi’s arse out there.’
‘I didn’t do that much,’ shrugged Brian.
‘Didn’t do much?’ Milne turned to Ohlo and Sohte. ‘The prisoners just jumped me on the island. Takatau kicked that French sheila in the kidneys. Almost took a bullet in the chest. Then flattened Agent Taggart and pistol-whipped him. You should have seen him in action. Whooeee! Take a bow, Stepping Razor.’
Ohlo looked concerned. ‘There was trouble on the island, Sawi? You should never go there without us.’
‘Trouble? No trouble at all.’ Milne smiled at Brian. ‘Christ, Takatau. Who taught you to fight like that?’
‘No one,’ said Brian. ‘I hardly ever get into fights.’
The President put his arm around Brian’s shoulders. ‘I reckon we should have a beer after that.’
‘Okay,’ agreed Brian. ‘Just one. Then a surf. Windmills was pumping when we came through the channel.’
‘It was, too,’ said Milne. ‘But let’s have a cool one first.’
The Ultimate Aphrodisiac Page 14