by Ian Edward
‘I’ve quit my job,’ Kate said. ‘I’m staying on here in the town. I’m hoping there are special things I can do here, working with the local police and the hospitals and with the youth services people.’
‘From what I’ve heard about your brother,’ Jean said, ‘I’d say he would’ve approved of that with all his heart and soul.’
Kate’s gaze drifted to the sea. In the distance two gulls – partners perhaps – flew closely together, gliding through the spray just above the ocean swells.
‘They’re playing,’ Kate said. The two women watched as the beautiful white birds turned on their mighty wings toward the sun on the horizon and then, riding the air currents, they flew on.
It had been a very long time and he did not expect to feel such familiarity so quickly.
The old house was just as he remembered it; the layout of the place with its own easy charm; the timber veranda at the back- a gateway to another time; the magnificent cedar wood tree with its gnarled trunk and serene spread of soft green foliage, older than any of them, rich with the aromas of his childhood.
Adam knew the house was unused for large portions of the year. It was several months since its current owners had last holidayed here. The grounds keeper hadn’t been for several weeks so the grass was long and there was a Brothers Grimm spider’s web across one corner of the veranda.
Inside, a fine layer of dust and the mustiness of disuse. Standing in the centre of the large family/living room he could still feel remnants of the old homely sense of comfort. The furniture and the floor rugs were different but it hardly mattered. His passage to the past was complete.
In the nostalgic theatre of his mind, the room came to life, just like a virtual scenario takes shape in cyberspace. Family portraits on the mantelpiece. His mother’s cooking, wafting deliciously on the air from the adjoining kitchen. Gentle words, smiling faces. The innocent, cheeky exuberance of Alana.
After they’d moved from here, his father had taken a job in Brisbane, then much further south in Melbourne. Running. He died soon after that from natural causes.
His mother stayed on in the town, in a smaller residence. A strong woman with permanently sad eyes she seemed forever on a fiercely personal and private quest to reclaim something lost. She’d died just a few years ago.
Now Adam waited for the others to come and when he heard the cars on the stony gravel outside, he felt a moment of illogical panic, as though he were spearheading the invasion of something sacred. What on earth was he thinking? He didn’t really expect anything to come of this, did he?
He was surprised to see Kate had also arrived. This was unexpected but he was immediately glad of her presence, grateful for the reassuring warmth she gave so freely.
‘As a detective, you learn that many things are the opposite of what people generally believe,’ Adam said to her as they watched the forensics team go about their work. ‘Like blood, Kate. It accounts for around ten percent of a person’s total body weight. Once spilt, most think it could be cleanly washed away.’
‘It can’t?’
‘No. The liquid weight of blood is such that its traces can never be totally removed. Even if it can’t be seen by the naked eye, it’s there and it can be detected by using modern forensic techniques.’
Kate leaned in past the doorway to the kitchen, looking at the luminous green patches that shone across the floor. ‘And that’s what’s going on here?’
‘Orthotolidine. It’s a chemical reagent that we spray on surfaces. Blood stains invisible to the eye are illuminated, appearing green.’
‘So what’s this all about, Adam?’
A look of remembrance in his eyes. ‘I remember my Mum scrubbing bleach like crazy into that timber floor. There was an enormous amount of blood and Mum was so pleased at how she rubbed it out. Little did she know that bleach, while making the blood fade from view, also very effectively stains it into the surface.’
‘Your Mum ? Adam, when was this?’
‘Around twenty years ago.’
‘It’s your blood?’
‘My sister’s. One Saturday afternoon I took it upon myself to cook a meal, reading from Mum’s cooking books. Alana helped, holding a plate from slipping while I sliced a leg of beef on it. The knife slipped, gashing Alana’s arm and, boy, did that blood gush like an oil slick.’
‘She was okay?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And your Mum cleaned up the blood. But this…chemical stuff, will show you where it is.’
‘Kirby said he’d do anything to help so I took him up on it. But I still had to twist his and O’Malley’s arms up over their heads to pull the favour.’
‘Right,’ said Kate, ‘now the real question…’
‘Why?’ Adam guessed her question and grinned.
Kate waited for his answer.
EPILOGUE
Hank had collected enough information to fill a book, maybe two. He was the only newsman granted permission, along with Jean, to accompany the youth worker as she escorted Daniel and Elizabeth to the Cail home. The two of them had accepted the offer to live with Barbara and Joey, with Costas as part of the arrangement.
‘Hey, mon, wel-com to our hom,’ Joey said to Daniel in rapper style, ‘you remember I showed you how to give me five.’
‘Yeah.’ Daniel raised his palm to connect with Joey’s outstretched hand. Then they turned, encouraging Elizabeth to join in.
With the co-operation of Superintendent O’Malley, Hank – with Adam – ensured that the oxygen-carrying capability in Elizabeth’s blood was to be kept hidden from the Feds.
It was essential that Elizabeth didn’t become a scientific curiosity, that she was left in peace to start her new life.
Hank introduced Jean to Costas and Barbara. ‘Been looking forward to chatting with you,’ Hank said to Costas. ‘I’m planning to write the story of everything that happened here. And you’ve been a vital player.’
‘I have?’
‘You found the drowning victim that ultimately led to the Task Force being formed. You and Joey were the ones who encountered Daniel and took him in.’
Costas shrugged, as though it was nothing. ‘I hear that you and Jean have quite a story of your own.’
Barbara made refreshments and she, Costas, Hank and Jean wandered out to the back patio. Before they were seated, and while Hank was commiserating with Barbara over the loss of her sister Melanie, Jean touched Costas lightly on the arm. ‘I believe you’re a man of faith. This sort of thing, this cult, must be even more disturbing to you…’
‘Yes.’
‘These children have to “unlearn” everything that’s been fed to them from a young age. I can’t imagine how anyone could…cope…with that. So many people haven’t experienced anything as damaging as this, and they don’t know what to believe.’
‘In a way, Jean, the future of all those kids will be the real story. How they cope, as you put it. What they come to make of the real world. What they ultimately come to believe. It will be a challenge. For them…and for us.’
‘I hope you will let us call on you for your help, with the kids we’re taking in. I hope the youth services keep on seeking your advice. If anyone can help these kids through the minefield, Costas, then it’s someone like you…’
‘Thank you, Jean.’ He felt himself blushing a little. ‘I expect it to be very much a case of one step at a time. It will be a long journey for me, and for Barbara of course, with Daniel and Elizabeth, just as it will be for all the others. I have to keep reminding myself that my faith is just like anyone else’s. It’s vulnerable.’ Jean saw sorrow pass behind his eyes. He had been deeply disturbed by the details uncovered about the Keepers Of The Faith. He’d been wounded by the fates that the drowning victims had suffered. ‘Faith is like a flame. It only takes a wind to make it falter. And the wind blows every day, Jean. Every day.’
A young woman of twenty six, fair hair, gentle features, soft blue eyes. She had a shy smile that broke free ever
y now and then from a vacant stare, a blankness symbolising the shock and confusion she felt.
Adam entered the room in the regional office of the Youth and Community Services. He searched the face of the young woman for something familiar and he saw it there, in the smile. The Youth counsellor, Dianne Jarvis, was sitting with the girl. She rose, introducing the girl to Adam as “Anna”. ‘I’m going to leave the two of you alone for a few minutes, to chat. You okay with that, Anna?’
‘Yes.’
She left the room, joining Kate in the waiting area outside. Kate had barely left Adam’s side for the past two days, mesmerised by the story he told her, supporting him in his suspicions, and on his doubts.
The news, received just the night before, had stunned them both.
Adam sensed the girl was nervous and wondered if she could detect the same in him. ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’ he asked.
‘No…’
Adam waited, sensing there was more she wanted to say.
‘…You’re my brother…aren’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Your DNA matches a blood stain in the house where we lived as kids…’ Adam checked himself, realising he was coming across cold and professional and technical – the detective in him. DNA could sometimes be derived from aged blood stains, and in this case the process had worked. But he needed to relate on a personal level. ‘Sorry. I’m sounding like a cop, not a brother. Do you know what DNA is?’
‘No.’
‘We can talk about that later. All you need to know is that the blood test was conclusive.’
‘Do you remember me?’
‘Oh yes…’ His voice broke and he paused for a moment. He wanted to reach out, hug her close, but he knew it was too soon for that. There was a long road stretching out ahead of them. He wished, more than he’d ever be able to express, that his parents could have been here for this, that they could have been a family just one last time.
‘When I was little,’ she said, ‘I used to have a dream, over and over. I was playing in a forest with a boy, we were singing about hiding.’ A far away look in her eyes. ‘But it used to frighten me. It wasn’t really like a dream…’
‘It was halfway between a dream and a nightmare.’
‘Yes!’
‘I know. I used to have a dream that felt the same way, about that night.’
‘What night?’
‘Your dream was real. We played that game. There was a storm and you hid on an old jetty over the water. These Keepers, they’d been watching our family for weeks it seems. They’d been loitering along the coast in a boat for days, watching and waiting. The storm gave them the perfect opportunity to make it seem like you’d drowned. Apparently that’s the way they planned many of their kidnappings.’
‘Miss Jarvis told me my real name is…Alana. Bennett.’
‘That’s right.’
‘What’s going to happen to me now?’ Tears came to her eyes. Adam couldn’t imagine how strange and scary this must all have seemed to her.
‘What I would hope,’ said Adam, ‘is that you and I could start to get to know one another. It will take time, and we’re both going to need help. But there’s a home for you here, Alana. I’d like us to be brother and sister again, if we can.’
Her eyes searched his. Was there a faint glimmer of recognition? ‘I think I’d like that.’
‘And you won’t be the only one. Daniel and Elizabeth are going to stay on here, in Northern Rocks.’ Unconsciously, he had gestured with his right hand, palm up, an offering.
‘Yes, I heard.’ She reached forward, tentatively placing her hand in his. Just then the door opened and they both looked toward it.
‘Hi,’ said Kate, ‘Dianne thought it should be okay for me to pop my head in.’
‘Kate-’ Adam began – and she could hardly believe the eclectic mix of nervous energy and elation in his voice, in his expression, in his eyes, ‘I’d like you to meet my sister. Alana.’
FINAL DESPATCHES
World Science Monitor
August 12 issue
News Break section
GENEVA, SWITZERLAND. Robert DiMarco and Gordon McAden, senior geneticists with the Folvar Institute, have announced a breakthrough in the development of genetically engineered blood cells enabling humans to store greater amounts of oxygen. It is over 20 years since German scientists discovered that crocodile haemoglobin has a special property enabling the reptiles to stay underwater for long periods. Subsequent research established many similarities between crocodile and human haemoglobin.
In the 1990’s scientists from Cambridge, England synthesised some human and some crocodile amino acids. They then implanted the resulting gene into fast replicating bacteria to create the new haemoglobin.
DiMarco and McAden had gone a similar route, combining crocodile and orangutan blood cells and infusing test orangutans with their new haemoglobin. After successful experimentation, with orangs surviving underwater without breathing for 10 minutes, they received approval for similar trials with human/crocodile haemoglobin on human test subjects.
Their first report, published this week, has surprised the scientific community by showing a modest success rate, with their human subjects carrying ten per cent more oxygen in their blood than under normal circumstances.
New York Daily News
September 15
WASHINGTON. Strong denials today from the Folvar Institute in Geneva, and from the U.S. Defence Chief Of Staff, that recent breakthrough work in recombinant DNA of human and crocodile haemoglobin, benefited from illegal research carried out several years ago by the now defunct Westmeyer Institute. At the time, several senior military personnel were indicted by the U.S Attorney General for their role in a secret group that financed the Westmeyer project. That project involved human kidnappings and experimentation. All data pertaining to the work was believed to have been destroyed.
The Folvar Institute has denied any similar co-operative venture with any military operation anywhere in the world. The Defence Chief Of Staff ensured our reporters that strict security measures ensure that none of its internal units can act alone to conspire with external commercial groups.
Nevertheless, the similarities between Folvar and Westmeyer cannot be ignored. This newspaper has now come into receipt of documents confirming that U.S. military scientific staff, acting in a private capacity, visited the Folvar Institute on two separate occasions in the past 10 months. We have now lodged those documents with the Federal authorities and await their reply.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ian Edward has a background in newspaper and magazine publishing.
Thirty of his short suspense stories have been published by magazines in England, North America, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Australia, New Zealand, and one of these, Private Day, has also appeared with the Scandinavian University Press.
He is currently working on a new novel.
Visit him at:
http://ian-edward.blogspot.com