Rhys was unwilling to go inside the church. Shaun went in and spotted a woman dusting at the front. He approached and asked her if she knew Daisy. She said she did. He gave her a message to explain that he had been otherwise unexpectedly engaged but if he were ever that way again on a Sunday he wouldn’t forget. The lady was both pleased and, sadly, amazed that young a person was so thoughtful, and she said so. That cheered Shaun up.
***
That evening, Rhys’s dad showed up. A portly man in a dark suit and tie, he walked across the field trying to avoid the dustier patches.
He strode up to Rhys, ignoring Shaun. “Ruddy hell, Rhys, what the blazes have you been up to? Why’d you just flit off like that?”
“I let you know I was OK.”
“That’s not the point. I pay good money for you to go to that school. Education is your future.”
“I hate it there. They’re bullies. All they teach is crap.”
“Crap? I’ll tell ya that there’s money at the end of the line. Your crap is other people’s gold dust, mate. That’s why I’ve invested so much in you. Without that you’re doomed in the world.”
“Excuse me,” said Shaun as politely as he could, “your son has shown quite a bit of initiative, actually.”
“What, in running off? That’s not—”
“He was exploring the world to find a way ahead that suits him. He’s pretty good in the countryside. Learns fast.”
“What’s it got to do with you?”
“He’s been telling me things about himself and discovering a side to himself that he didn’t know he had.”
“Complaining about his old man, I suppose.”
“He mentioned you but he didn’t want to talk about you. He’s discovered the wide open countryside and feels at home in it. Pretty cool for a city boy.”
“Yeah, Dad. This is where I want to be.”
“What kind of work is there around here?”
“I think they’re pretty keen on recruiting suitable young people for the country things,” said Shaun. “At least, your son has made an impression on one farmer. He offered him a job.”
“A job I want to take,” said Rhys, boldly.
“What kind of money is in that?”
“Enough. I won’t starve on a farm. And anyway, if I’m happy then I’m sorted, ain’t I?”
“Never thought my one and only son would turn out to be a flippin’ farmer…”
Shaun stood his full height and formally introduced himself. “Hi. The name’s Shaun.” He held out his hand. “I guess you could say I can act as your son’s agent. For free, of course. Shall we send for Bruce, the farmer in question?”
“Where’s he hang out?”
“To the west – halfway to Inglewood, near the rabbit fence,” said Rhys.
“I can’t travel there this evening.”
“Of course not,” said Shaun in his best businesslike tone. “Let’s go and have a word with his brother in the office here. We can make some arrangements… I would offer you a drink, only you’re driving.” Shaun didn’t have any money anyway but he guessed this was the kind of man who would always do business over a drink. By calling himself an agent, he had moved the whole thing onto a business footing – and business was something Rhys’s dad seemed to relate to.
It didn’t take long to set things up for Rhys’s father to return on the Thursday when Bruce would meet up with them and take them out to his place. In the meantime, Rhys would carry on camping at Oasis. Shaun checked his wallet. He had just enough to last until then. But seeing Shaun’s wallet, Rhys’s father drew out his own wallet and insisted on paying for his son. He paid up until Thursday and gave his son a couple of hundred for expenses. Then, in a cloud of dust, he drove off in his four-by-four.
“What’s he need that for in Indooroopilly?” asked Greg.
“He doesn’t,” said Rhys in a matter-of-fact voice. “But he’s got to find something to spend his money on.”
That night Shaun and Rhys lay on the grass and studied the stars.
The family next door had turned in inside their large tent and were engaged in playing some kind of game with the children. It involved quite a lot of noise. Shaun reflected on what Rhys had said. According to him, he had got his life together. Had he? He hadn’t… yet. But perhaps – just perhaps – it was coming together. He thought again of Wennai. He knew he could be happy as a single man. If he were to live a single life, it would be sufficient. He liked the freedom to lie back and watch the stars. Judging from the sounds coming from the neighbouring tent, a family meant responsibility – hard work and a lot of patience. It was now bedtime and the children were doing everything in their power to delay it. He heard the mother speak a few sharp words. Could he be a family man? It would be nice to be free.
But then, could he have come to that stage of peace without his family; or without Wennai? No. He knew that. And he also knew that Wennai needed him. She had no parents. Patia was a great sister but now she was courting seriously, and Aril wouldn’t be around forever. Soon Wennai would be left alone. She had never had a relationship with anyone else except Gollip, and that was never going to work – Gollip couldn’t begin to understand her; he didn’t work at those depths. Gollip could bury the ball into an opponent’s net but he hadn’t the mastery of the situation – he needed others to put it at his feet. But Wennai needed Shaun’s appreciation of the places most people were not aware of within themselves. No; they needed each other. Kakko was right – annoyingly, she mostly was. They were not only right for each other, they were interdependent – an item. And, although he had tried to deny it to himself, she stirred his ardour. She always had.
Rhys turned in but Shaun continued to lie there under the stars, working out what he was going to do when he got home. The longer he thought about it and the more he prayed, the more he knew he could not put it off. It crossed his mind that perhaps Wennai didn’t want any more than the friendship they already had. If he made a move, asked for the relationship to change, what would happen? After all this time would she be too scared to commit herself? But the more he thought, the more he realised that they couldn’t just keep going on like they were forever. And he also knew that the solution lay with him; it was he who had shown the initial reluctance – he who had called a halt to the relationship after his eighteenth birthday party. That was a long time ago – but the ball was still in his court.
Eventually, Shaun fell asleep, only to be awoken by great splashes on his face. It was raining. The scent of the rain on the dry earth was intoxicating. It smelt fresh and sweet. He couldn’t describe it in words. It was nothing like Shaun had ever smelt before. The water of life was soaking into the parched ground, bathing the roots of the rough, brown grass with the liquid they craved. As Shaun pulled himself up and crawled into his tent, he sensed the power of this life force all around him. A cool wind drove against the wall of the little tent and the rain grew heavier. Shaun didn’t care that he might get wet.
He must have fallen asleep again because the next thing he knew, it was light and the sun was already shining through the branches of the trees. The birds were singing – making a real din. The children next door were bouncing with new-found energy… and he was desperate for the loo! His body was telling him it was morning, the beginning of a new day.
“Morning, Dan,” he called as he passed him on the way back from the showers. “I mean Rhys.”
“Morning… Call me Dan. I like it. I think I shall be Dan from now on. No-one can spell Rhys.”
You’re right, there, thought Shaun. I couldn’t.
29
Thursday came and Dan’s father was due. Bruce drove over and they were throwing Dan’s meagre belongings into the ute, when his father arrived.
“We’re only three hours from Brisbane, if that, mate,” Bruce was explaining. “The lad wants a job – and I can give him one.”
“He hasn’t finished school yet. He’s not seventeen,” ventured the father. “At least let
him finish school.”
“I’m aware of that. Finishing at school would be a condition of employment. He can go to school here.”
“But he has a place in a good school—”
“Which he doesn’t care for. I’ve learned a bit about this young man. He’s a good lad at heart. He may be city-born but he’s got dirt in his soul.” He took a handful of damp earth and tossed it in the air. “Put him in an office and it’d be like trying to grow a silky oak in a pot – he’s the sort that needs root space.”
“I’m paying good money for a good education—”
“He’ll get it free out here… and I’ll give him board and lodging and pay him for the hours he puts in on the farm.”
“He’s tasted the air,” said Shaun, quietly. “He’s experienced freedom – and a bit of hardship – and made friends. He’ll settle here. He says he’s spent a lot of time boarding, so you haven’t seen him daily anyway. He’ll still be around – visit you sometimes.”
“Dad, don’t you get it? I ain’t going back with you. You’ll have to tie me down to do it – and I’m as strong as you.”
“‘Am not’… The words are ‘am not’.”
“It ain’t, it’s ‘ain’t’. It’s anything I want it to be!”
“Look, mate,” said Bruce quietly, “let’s you and me go for a drink and talk this over.”
The father looked about him. He knew he was not going to get Rhys back. Like Shaun said, he was like a bird that had escaped from its cage and seen the wide world. Even if you could catch it, you were not going to persuade it back inside… And he needed a drink.
Later that day, after a trip to the farm, a deal was struck. Rhys agreed to go to school in Warwick and sit his exams. Marge promised to work with him and coach him through. He would learn the work of a farmer at weekends and, if he took to it, he would become a full-time apprentice. In return, Rhys reluctantly agreed to go back to Indooroopilly for Christmas.
***
Shaun reflected on a long mission. It had been much more gentle than his previous ones. There had been no guns, nor had he saved his millions like Kakko seemed to do; but that didn’t matter. He had been instrumental in opening up a life for a young man at the end of his tether. That made the whole thing more than worthwhile. The Creator of the entire universe knew Rhys, loved him and gave him Shaun from another planet to help him sort out his life. That, somehow, sums up the love the Creator has for every single one of us, thought Shaun. He found himself talking to God. “Even if it doesn’t work out for everyone like that, you still care; you still love each one of us, don’t you? I don’t know why but you can’t always stop bad things from happening but even when you can’t you help people make the right choices, and when they do, you are there with them. That’s why Pastor Ruk is so taken with the Christmas thing – you being born in human flesh. But it doesn’t stop there; these Christian churches have got you down as being executed – killed. You didn’t stop that; you could have run away but you didn’t. You died but not forever. Nothing can put out the spark of your love. Nothing can take you away from us.”
30
“Nan, are you sure you’ll be alright on your own with Yeka?” said Jalli with an air of concern. A white gate had arrived for them all apart from Matilda and Yeka. “We’ve no idea how long we’ll be. I could ask Hatta—”
“Jalli, I’ll be fine. Just take your white gate. I promise that if you are longer than usual, I will draft in the right kind of help.”
Yeka seemed more upset about being left out than by her parents and family leaving her.
“Nan has not been invited either, Yeka. Someone has to stay to keep her company. Imagine how lonely it would be with no-one,” coached Jalli reassuringly. She kissed her little girl and then hugged Matilda. She didn’t want either of them to see her wet face. She, herself, had only been three when she had been left with her grandmother after all her family had disappeared in the flood on Raika. She prayed that her Yeka would not know the same pain. But, when it came to the white gates, you just had to trust.
Soon Jalli, Jack, Kakko, Tam, Shaun and Wennai found themselves on the same beachfront as one of their first adventures. Pero’s hotel stood before them.
“Wow, Jack. It’s Pero’s.”
“Yes. I can smell the place – we’re under the trees on the edge of the beach. I can hear the surf. Some places don’t change.”
“There’s something up,” said Shaun now well experienced in detecting atmospheres. “It’s like the sun isn’t shining.”
“Which it most definitely is,” said Jack.
“Everyone has an expression as if the world’s about to end!” joked Kakko. “All so gloomy.”
They crossed the road towards the hotel. In the lobby, they watched a TV screen. A serious-faced presenter was speaking whilst they showed a rocket being fired into space.
“The Vaastak rocket that was successfully deployed yesterday,” the presenter was explaining, “has hit the asteroid but not precisely where the controllers had hoped. We can go live to the press conference at Stad Mans where the operation chief, Chief Derothis, is answering questions.”
“Chief Derothis,” a reporter was asking, “what about the explosion that you were hoping to detonate?”
“As you may be aware,” replied Derothis, “the idea was to strike the asteroid towards its northern end and detonate a two-megatonne plutonium fission bomb in order to alter its course. We were hoping to deflect it sufficiently to miss our planet… We have deployed on the asteroid but more centrally than we had hoped. We are currently considering whether to detonate.”
“Can you send a second rocket?” another reporter stood and asked. “A second go at hitting the target?”
“There is no time. By the time we have readied a second rocket, the asteroid will be too close.”
“So we are doomed!” shouted a desperate voice.
“No. We can’t say that for certain. If we detonate there are three possibilities.”
“Which are?” yelled an impatient man near the front.
“If we detonate, the first, and probably the most likely, scenario is that it will make insufficient difference to the trajectory of the asteroid. The second is that it will shatter the giant rock into several smaller pieces, nearly all of which will land on the planet with destructive force, causing more damage to the long-term health of the planet.”
“And the third?” called the impatient man.
“The detonation will deflect the asteroid sufficiently to miss us.”
“So why the delay?” shouted another reporter. “If there is any chance, why aren’t you going for it?”
“We have to consider the second scenario. If we shatter the asteroid, we may destroy all life on the planet forever.”
A young woman stood up and called from the back. “But what is that to us? Surely that is not a consideration if there is any hope at all.”
“It depends on the degree of hope. We do have a responsibility to salvage whatever we can, whether or not that will include ourselves.”
This was followed by an uproar of noise and the chief raised his hand and waved for quiet. He was just about heard saying he had to go back to his control room. He realised that he and his team could turn out to be the greatest of heroes – but if they decided to sacrifice the current life on the planet for its long-term survival, he knew that they would risk being attacked by an angry mob and not even live to see the final collision when it came.
As they stood and took all this in, the Smiths were buffeted by people who were on the edge of panic but within minutes reports came in that the operations team had made their decision – there was sufficient hope for the detonation to be attempted. People calmed down. There was still a chance they would survive. Now pictures of the asteroid from a telescope on a high mountain were being broadcast. It seemed so small, so innocuous. It was no wonder that it had only been spotted ten days before.
Some claimed they saw the explosion on their scr
eens. Some didn’t. All agreed they didn’t see any difference. The asteroid was still in one piece.
The presenter went on to interview a scientist. He seemed distracted. He, like everyone else, was waiting for a report from the control centre. Ten minutes later it came. The asteroid remained intact but there was no detectable deflection. The presenter asked everyone to keep calm; the president was about to make an announcement. It seemed preprepared. The face of a serious-looking balding man appeared on the screen.
“All people of the planet,” he began, “you have just heard that the only and final hope of deflecting the asteroid, Trum Penta, from a catastrophic collision with our planet has failed. The event that we have been dreading for generations has become a reality. We have to prepare ourselves to perish. Allow me to say straightaway, it has been a privilege to serve you. However, let us not despair,” he added hastily. “Many satellites have left the orbit of our planet over the years, bearing the history and achievements of our species. A final rocket with a complete digital library of all we have accumulated through the years will be launched tomorrow. This will preserve our legacy – no matter how long it takes before it comes into contact with intelligent life elsewhere.”
He went on to describe some of the highlights of their civilisation – the man-made triumphs to be proud of. It made their civilisation sound like something very special indeed.
He continued, “And now, I urge you not to cause greater suffering by uncontrolled behaviour in these last few days. We want to leave a good account of ourselves should this planet ever be recolonised. Let them find our civilisation intact. We have four days; let that be a time in which we can exercise the highest cultural values of which we are so very proud.
“Attend and tune-in to concerts of the best music, meet for readings of the richest literature, and let our private art collectors display their prize treasures for all to see alongside the collections of our museums and galleries. May these few days be a culture-fest of enormous proportions.
The Spark (White Gates Adventures Book 4) Page 31