by Des Hunt
He grabbed hold of the top and lifted. It swung up revealing a set of steps leading further below. He glanced up at the men. They were interested in only one thing, and it wasn’t him. He stepped over the side and headed down, closing the top afterwards. Immediately he opened it again. It was pitch black. There had to be a light switch somewhere. There was. A dim orange glow filled the darkness and he closed the top again.
He was now in the bilges, with only a slatted wooden floor keeping him from the hull. It stretched the length of the boat, and was lined with ten or so large storage cupboards on either side. Carefully he opened one, not really knowing what to expect. It was empty. So was the next. But the third had a blue polystyrene box in the bottom — one of the egg cartons from the farm. He lifted the lid and immediately wished he hadn’t. He pulled back and hit his head on the roof. “What the hell’s that?” he breathed.
“That”, was five broken emu eggs, well past their use-by date. He covered them up and shut the cupboard. There was nothing in any of the others.
Next he squeezed past the steps into the middle of the boat. Instead of cupboards, this time he saw cages, about twenty in all. They were plastic boxes with strong steel doors perforated with small air holes. He opened some to look inside. Most were clean, but one still had feathers in the bottom. There was only one bird in the world with hairy feathers like that. At some time in the past Richardson’s kiwi hunting had been successful.
He was about to explore further back around the engine when it came alive. Something must have happened on deck. Urgently, he clambered back to the steps. If someone was in the dining area, he was dead. He edged the tabletop up, expecting a yell of surprise at any time. There was none. When he had it fully open he heard the excited chatter of the men. He quickly climbed out, lowering the table behind.
A few moments later, he was up on deck, rubbing his eyes. “Have you caught it yet?” he mumbled.
“You bet,” said Jim proudly. “You should have stayed here. Noel was brilliant.”
Noel was now the totally exhausted, but successful, deep-sea angler. He stayed slumped in the chair, while others weighed and tagged his fish for him. He recovered enough to be photographed alongside the near-dead marlin. Then it was released over the side. Hopefully to fight another battle some other day, but more likely to sink to the bottom and die.
Chapter 13
“Yes,” said Price, smoothing his beard between his hands. “You’re right. Now’s the time for direct action.”
`Good replied Robbie with a grin. “What are we going to blow up?”
“We won’t be blowing up anything just yet. We’ll use a little electronic magic instead. How good are you on the Internet?”
Robbie was suitably modest. “OK. I help with the school’s website.”
“That should be enough. Let’s get to work.”
They moved through to Price’s workshop.
It was the morning after the fishing trip and Robbie had come over early to give a report on his discoveries. Jim was back at work again. One day off a year was more than enough for him.
Price pulled a laptop computer out of a drawer. “I want to use the party line to find out what Richardson is doing on the Internet. If we hook-on at the same time, we’ll be able see everything he does. I have a feeling he uses it to contact his customers.”
“How will you use the party line from here?”
“We can’t. That’s where you come in. I’m going to set it up at the house so that you’ve got access to it twenty-four hours.”
* * *
By lunchtime it was done. Jim even came in and admired the work, though he wasn’t told what it was for. A lead had been taken from the phone jack up to Robbie’s room. They tested it by contacting TWIMP, The White Island Monitoring Project, where Price was a registered user. It seemed that everything was perfectly normal on the island.
“OK,” said Price. “Everything seems to be working fine. Now, when you hear the ring for someone making a connection, you just double-click this icon. If the Internet is being accessed then you’ll get a copy of everything that’s going to and from his computer. It won’t be formatted, though. Only the text or pictures will show. When he logs off, click on this icon, and it’ll all be saved. Do you think you can handle that?”
Robbie gave him the look.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Price dragged his long hair back from his face and tightened his ponytail. “The next bit is going to be trickier, and more than a little dangerous. Go and ask Jim if you can stay with me for the night.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Robbie, saluting.
Jim chuckled when he heard the request. “That old rogue’s up to something, isn’t he?” When Robbie said nothing, he continued: “Yeah, you can stay the night. Just don’t let him get you into too much trouble.”
* * *
Price and Robbie worked all afternoon and evening. It was a magic time. Price knew so much, yet he could make it seem simple while involving Robbie in everything at the same time. They were making a small transmitter — an electronic bug — to go into the GPS on Richardson’s boat. The idea was that whenever the GPS was on, it would transmit back to Price’s bus. That way they’d know where the boat was at any time.
“That’s if Richardson uses the GPS,” said Robbie.
“He will,” said Price. He has all those toys so he can play with them. I watched him. When we weren’t fishing he was fiddling with them all the time. Couldn’t keep his hands off them.”
By dark they were ready to go. Robbie had been getting more and more nervous as the afternoon went by. The idea was to break into one of the sheds, find the boat, and attach the transmitter. Robbie’s job as lookout man was to make sure that nothing went wrong.
* * *
There was only one way into the farm, and that was up the drive. It was eerie walking past the big birds in the darkness. They could hear scratching, coughing and very heavy breathing coming from their pens.
The darkness diminished as they got closer to the buildings. The reason became obvious when the sheds came into view — there were bright security lights on each of the corners.
Price picked the shed they hadn’t been in before. It had a large roller door, which was sure to be where the boat was stored. Alongside was a smaller normal door. Price walked completely around the building while Robbie stayed at the front.
“The place is alarmed,” said Price when he returned. “But I can handle that once I get inside.” He bent over to examine the door latch. “This electronic lock will be the hard part.”
He took out a small device and fiddled with it for some time. “It’s no good. It’s the wrong frequency. I’ll have to go back and make some changes. You want to come, or stay here with the gear?”
Robbie decided to stay.
It was one of the worst decisions he ever made.
At the start, he quite enjoyed the thrill of doing something dangerous. Then the dogs were let out of the house for a late night toilet break. Of course they couldn’t just go and squat on the lawn and get it over and done with. They had to run around madly chasing each other.
That was until they found Robbie.
Then they started snarling and growling. They were huge, almost matching him eye to eye. Robbie backed against the wall and stood rock still. Being mauled by two giant dogs was way down his list of choice ways to die.
He need not have worried. They were trained to find, not kill. After the first few threats they started barking. Loud, echoing, baying sounds — like something out of a horror movie.
Richardson had gone back inside, leaving the door open for the dogs. Now he was out again.
“What the hell are you on about?” he yelled.
The dogs just barked louder. Richardson swore, stepping outside onto the sharp stones of the driveway. His swearing changed to cries of pain. He turned and went back inside.
Robbie knew he’d be back once he got some shoes. Somehow he had to shift the dogs’
attention to something else. He edged along the wall until he got to the corner. The dogs shuffled along with him, not missing a beat in their barking. He turned the corner, looking frantically around for something that could help. There was nothing. But at least he was out of sight of the house, for what that was worth.
Then a miracle happened. He was saved by a stupid, near-blind bundle of spikes. A hedgehog was doing the rounds of the shed, moving as if it was a regular trip every night. The target was the hordes of insects attracted to the security lights. Sooner or later they died and fell to the ground creating a feast for the little animal. The problem was, on this night there were other animals doing the rounds as well.
As soon as the dogs saw the hedgehog, their attention shifted. They’d clearly met this creature before — it was much more fun than a frightened boy. Immediately the hedgehog curled its snout into its belly. That was what the dogs wanted. It was now a ball. A very prickly ball, but the prickles just added to the fun. The first few nudges were a trial. Then when it got going they were after it, yelping in pleasure. Robbie was left standing alone against the wall. Quickly he moved into the darker area between the lights.
He didn’t see what happened when Richardson discovered the dogs, but he certainly heard it. The swearing went on for some while before the dogs yelped in pain. A door slammed, and after that there was silence.
* * *
“Any problems?” asked Price when he returned.
“No! Apart from nearly being eaten by giant dogs, it’s been very quiet.”
Price nodded. “That’s all right. As long as you survived and Richardson didn’t see you.”
Once again he took the device out of his pocket and pointed it at the door. Nothing happened. He took out a screwdriver, fiddled for a moment, and tried again. This time there was a pleasing click. The door was open.
Price moved inside. “Stay back while I fix the alarm.”
A moment later he called Robbie in.
“They’re always the same,’ said Price. “The installer puts in a real easy code. The owner’s meant to erase it when they put in their own code, but they never do. Believe it or not, this was one, two, three, four.”
He turned on the light. “There won’t be anyone in here. And there are no windows in this part.”
Filling most of the space was the boat, still connected to the tractor.
First Robbie showed Price the storage area in the bilges. It was unchanged from the day before. They then went to work on the GPS. Robbie manned the light switch while Price did the technical stuff.
Twice he was called into action, each time at a critical stage. The first was from outside. There was a rustling at the door. Instantly Robbie killed the light. The noise continued. Then there was a snort and it moved on. The hedgehog had resumed its rounds.
The second was more scary as it came from within. Robbie was getting weary of standing in one place and Price was at the most delicate stage of his work. Suddenly the room was filled with sound — a loud, harsh screech. Robbie hit the light switch.
They waited in the darkness, trying to identify the noise. It was an animal call of some sort. When it wasn’t repeated, Price turned on a torch and continued. Robbie kept the light off.
The job was soon finished. “C’mon,” said Price. “Let’s take a look around. Find out what that noise was.”
A door at the back of the garage led into another large area. A scan round with the torch showed it was filled with aviaries, housing a huge collection of parrots; a colourful mix from every part of the world.
Price was shaking his head in amazement. “These must be worth a fortune.”
“Do you think they’re legal?”
“Ha! What do you think? Hidden away in a shed like this.”
Robbie was nervous. “Let’s get out before we wake them up.”
As if that was the cue, a screech pierced the room. Then another. And another. Price turned the torch off.
It was just in time. A door opened and a shaft of light cut through the room. A figure showed, looked around, swore at the birds, farted and then left. It was the lackey.
They waited in silence. A toilet flushed and a while later a bed creaked.
Price whispered into Robbie’s ear. “This business is starting to scare me. Let’s get out of here!”
As they walked back to the bus, Robbie asked: “What do you think he’d do if he caught us?”
“I don’t really know, Robbie. But I think we need to be very careful. I have the feeling our Mister Richardson could turn rather nasty.” He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You sure you’re happy with using that computer? I wouldn’t want you to feel you have to do it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle that part.” Robbie was surprised at how confident he made it sound, because inside he felt very differently. The excitement from earlier had been replaced by something else. He couldn’t quite say what it was. But it wasn’t at all a pleasant feeling.
Chapter 14
Robbie went back to Paradise to check on Puku early the next morning.
The kaweau was jittery. She accepted the food, but afterwards she moved around the hut as if looking for an exit. The babies scuttled after her, not wanting to be left behind. Robbie knew what was happening, but he wasn’t ready to let her go. For one thing, he still didn’t have a photo. It wouldn’t be to show other people. It would be just for himself. He felt that after she’d gone he’d need something to support his memories.
Before he left, he went round the outside blocking off any holes he found. Next time he’d bring his camera; then she could return to the trees. As he left the bush, a vehicle drove into the valley. It was a white ute. He wasn’t sure, but it could have been the vehicle that had followed him earlier. If it was, the driver wasn’t trying to hide this time. The ute wove between the sheep heading down to the river. Robbie moved back into the darkness of the bush.
After driving alongside the river for a while, it stopped and the driver’s door opened. A huge man climbed out. It was Johnny Marshall. Robbie relaxed a little. He wasn’t afraid of Johnny, though he still wouldn’t want him to find out about Puku.
Johnny stood for a while before slowly turning in a full circle. His head was high and his eyes seemed to be closed. It was as if he was trying to absorb the peace of Paradise into every pore of his body. Often when Robbie arrived he’d park the farm bike and simply stand for a moment enjoying the peace and solitude. Now, as he watched, he felt that Johnny was sharing the spirit of the place in the same way.
After turning several times, Johnny stood with his eyes open taking in the vista of the quiet river, the pasture and the skirting bush. It was several minutes before he moved back to the ute. This time he drove down towards the exit gorge where Robbie’s bike was plainly in view. Robbie stepped out of the bush heading towards the river. Johnny parked, stepped out to lean against the cab waiting for the boy.
“Were you watching me?” he asked as Robbie drew closer.
Robbie nodded.
“What did you think I was doing?” It wasn’t a threatening question.
Robbie had trouble putting his thoughts into words. “Every time I come here I think I feel the same. The place is magic.”
“Magic, eh?” Johnny thought about the word. “Mahi atua. Yes, I think you’re right. There is something spiritual in this place. My grandmother asked to come here shortly before she died. She said she had come as a little girl and it was the first place where she felt as one with the land. I think she thought it was magic too.”
“Is this your family’s land?”
“Yes, it is our whenua. But we sold it to old Jack Walker many, many years ago. He was your great grandfather. It was a fair deal, yet we should never have sold it.” He smiled a little. “It has never felt the same since the sheep were put here. They don’t feel right.”
“Was he the one who cleared the bush?”
“No, he didn’t have to. For some reason it’s always
been grass, even a long time back. The old stories say it was moa land. But later, when we sold it, there were only the putangitangi — the paradise ducks. There were many more pairs then. That’s probably why Jack called it Paradise.”
“You could buy it back,” said Robbie, hopefully.
Johnny smiled. “Ah, yes we could. We can only hope, Robbie. We can only hope.” He stood thinking for a while. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride back.” He tossed the bike on to the back of the ute, and the two headed silently back into the real world.
* * *
Three calls were made on the party line that morning — two by the third user of the line and one by Richardson. But it was normal voice use. At first Robbie found it scary. Every time the phone clicked he’d jump on to the computer and start his program. Then he got bored. To pass the time he decided to use the line himself. Richardson couldn’t use it at the same time.
He followed Price’s instructions into the White Island site, TWIMP. The first page was the one he’d seen earlier. It simply identified the site. He moved to the next page. It was a direct link to the seismographs in the regions. There was a map showing where they were. Two were on the island. Another three were on the mainland, including the one near the farm. Below were wavy lines showing the output of each. The waves grew in size as he watched. There’d been an earthquake. The waves were biggest from the nearby instrument. He was disappointed — he hadn’t felt a thing. It must have been very small.
The next page was much more interesting. It was a diagram of the volcano and showed the molten rock below the island. It didn’t seem far below the surface. The screen blanked for a moment as the diagram was updated. The new one showed the molten rock further from the surface. He knew that meant the volcano was getting safer. That was a pity. It looked as if he wasn’t going to see an eruption after all. What was the point of living in an active zone if nothing ever happened?