The Waterhole

by Warren Chazan

  The major nodded and sipped at the hot tea.

  “Now, this has to be done secretly,” continued Denny. “Our Australian cousins don’t take kindly to us interfering in their internal affairs. They’re not to know you’re there for anything else but to maintain security for our people. Your team will be disguised as civilian observers. Pick out five elite marines, all experts in their fields.”

  “Yes, sir, I understand.”

  “Then you’re to find Miss Drew and …”

  Denny paused, grabbed a cigar from his desk drawer and lit it. He took a few puffs, blowing the smoke directly at the major.

  “Silence her,” he finished.

  “Silence her, sir?”

  “You heard me, Major.”

  “By what means, sir?”

  “Any means necessary, discretion is the key here.” Denny walked around his desk and sat down.

  “Sir, I’m not sure I fully understand what you want us to do.”

  “Are you an idiot, Kennedy?” he spat out. “Silence the woman. By any means possible!”

  The major finally appreciated the general’s undeclared message, and the color slowly drained from his face. The tea cup in his hand began to shake. He put it down on a nearby coffee table. “Sir, if you mean what I think you mean, surely that’s a crime. She’s a civilian and isn’t at war with us. Besides which, how could we ever possibly get away with it? She’s a worldwide celebrity.”

  Denny rose to his feet. “Not at war with us, soldier? Her antics might be responsible for an uprising in our cities, anarchy on our streets, revolts and looting. If that’s not war, soldier, then I don’t know what is. As for her so-called celebrity status, well celebrities often commit suicide with all that stress they’re under. Some of them even have accidental overdoses. Now can I trust you to take on this task in the best interest of our national security?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “One more thing, soldier before you leave.”

  Denny poured himself a cup of tea. “This conversation between us never happened. If this ever comes out, I’ll vehemently deny this meeting ever took place. That doesn’t mean it makes it any less legit, but there are certain sects in the government that see things differently to us, and who no longer have the stomach to do what must be done in order to protect this country. Now get out of here. Dismissed.”

  The major saluted and exited the office.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Alastair glanced at the image displayed on the laptop screen. Four separate symbols. The first of the symbols was in bold type, while all the others were in a regular font, all similar to each other, yet with subtle differences. Perhaps a bit like Japanese, but not quite. Steve was about to hand him his glass of whiskey, when he lost his balance on the freshly polished floor. His left hand brushed the side of the laptop, just as the whiskey flew through the air, landing on Alastair’s crisp white shirt.

  “Well done, lad,” said Alastair, more upset by the wasted whiskey, than the dirty shirt.

  “I’m so sorry, Professor, damn floor,” cursed Steve.

  “No problem. I needed a change of shirt anyhow.”

  Alastair was about to stand up, when he noticed that the screen on the laptop had changed. Instead of the first symbol being in bold type, the second symbol was now in bold type, and the first had returned back to normal font.

  “What did your hand touch, lad?”

  “I’m not sure, Professor, I think this part over here.” Steve pointed to the left side of the keyboard.

  Alastair scanned the keyboard, but he had already tried pushing all the buttons, with no effect. He moved his hand to the sides of the computer. There was a small dial, almost invisible viewed from above. He turned it slightly and the image on the screen changed again. This time the third character became bold, while the others returned to normal font.

  “It seems that these aliens have a different system to ours. This lever was designed to change the frequency slightly during that interim year when we weren’t sure what frequency we might end up using. It appears there isn’t just one frequency these creatures are transmitting on, but four, very close to one another, less than one hundred hertz apart. Each of those symbols comes to life on a different frequency. We need to somehow actually explore each of those symbols and determine exactly what they mean.”

  “Perhaps they each represent a prime number or something,” said Steve. “Remember the classic movie Contact? The first thing Jodie Foster recognized was a series of prime numbers.”

  “Anything’s possible, but I have my doubt they’re four prime numbers. Why four? There would be a clue that they were numbers. Perhaps the characters would appear quite different, but they all seem much the same to me. Also, this may not be meant as a beacon to other civilizations. For all we know, they never intended for us or anyone else ever to find this thing. Think about it, Steve, our internet doesn’t boot up with prime numbers.”

  “I guess you’re right about that. Okay, maybe they represent different countries or continents or something.”

  “Now you’re thinking like a true decipherer, my boy. I’m speculating it’s more along those lines. We need to discover additional clues though.”

  “So where to from here, Professor?”

  “We need to get into the next screen. Once we have more characters, we can run a computer cross-check on various aspects of them, looking for similarities and differences between the characters. Then, once we find a few key words that we recognize, like water, stars or anything of the like, we have our Rosetta Stone. After that, a simple computer program can decode the rest. At that point, we get our engineers to design a keyboard that translates their symbols into English, and away we go.”

  “Brilliant, Professor, absolutely brilliant,” gushed Steve.

  “Now pour me another glass, lad. I’m off to change my shirt.”

  * * * *

  After instructing the automatic chauffeur to take her via the most direct route to Canberra, Janine spread herself out on the back seat. She never tired of relishing the lack of seatbelts, which had become obsolete with the automated chauffeur.

  She needed to get some much-deserved rest. Once she got to Stromlo, there’d be no time for sleeping. She thought briefly about calling Kath and Gail, but changed her mind when she noted the time difference. She decided to reflect on what had happened at the airport in LA. As much as she occasionally mourned the life she had briefly enjoyed with Adam, it was comforting to know he hadn’t changed and was still capable of deceiving those closest and dearest to him. He hadn’t even told his new wife that he’d been married before, let alone disclose what had eventuated in that Acapulco hotel room five years ago. Caroline seemed like a sweet girl, and Janine wondered how long she would tolerate him. It was a little different this time, with a child involved.

  A wave of guilt surfaced over the lie she’d told the man in the queue at the car-rental place. Sometimes hurtful or harmful words just somehow managed to escape from her mouth. Kath would not have been impressed, as her sister was an angel and the voice of reason. If only she took her advice more often, life may not have ended up being so complicated. Even before the wedding, Kath had warned her about Adam. She remembered how her sister had sat her down on that warm, muggy Saturday afternoon in August on their front porch and very softly asked her to wait a bit longer before committing.

  “There’s something about him, sis that I can’t quite put my finger on, which is why I can’t tell you not to marry him, but be careful. Please, be careful,” she’d said. A lump rose in Janine’s throat as she thought about how much her sister cared for her and how close they were. It wasn’t more than two hours after that shocking revelation in Acapulco when a heavily pregnant Kath had magically appeared in the hospital and whisked her off to a deserted beach and given her the longest hug she could ever remember. They had spent the next two days in a small motel on the beachfront just sleeping and talking about their lives, and of course devouring hi
gh-calorie comfort foods. Kath never once said ‘I told you so,’ even though she’d had every right to. She just sat and listened to her as she’d cried her heart out, holding her and reassuring her that she’d be okay. Three days later, they had flown back to San Antonio together and David had already cleaned out the nursery and replaced the cot with a bed. She had stayed with them for four months before she finally moved into her own apartment, realizing she was getting in the way once her new nephew came into the world. Nevertheless, Kath never once even hinted or suggested that she move out. As far as she was concerned, Janine could’ve stayed there forever if she so desired. There were very few people in the world like Kath, and she meant everything to Janine, everything.

  The Nissan Pulsar was far from a luxurious car, but it certainly wasn’t lacking in the latest technological comforts. It came standard with LCD screen/TV and a mini-bar filled with spirits and wine.

  Janine poured herself a vodka and tonic and instructed the computer to wake her when they were ten minutes out from Canberra, then stretched out.

  She looked out the window at the Sydney skyline fading into the distance. She was hoping to catch a glimpse of the refurbished Sydney Harbour Bridge after the 2030 terrorist attack took out a portion of the arch, killing fifty people in the process. Janine, however, accepted that there would be no time for sightseeing on this trip. Time was her enemy. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, just as the car drove past the last live wireless electricity pylon en route to Canberra.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Janine’s dream of Sabrina scratching Gail’s face and causing it to bleed was fortuitously interrupted by an alarm. She stirred and awoke to a pounding headache, and a siren wailing.

  She looked at her watch. They were still more than an hour outside Canberra and she erupted angrily at the computer’s Automatic Control Entity.

  “What is it, ACE?” she asked. “I told you to wake me ten minutes out from Canberra,” she remonstrated.

  “Electric capacity exhausted. Vehicle will stop in fifteen minutes unless recharged,” responded the computer.

  “That’s impossible, ACE. There are wireless recharge pylons on this road. It’s a main route.”

  As soon as she said it, she realized that although it was the most direct route, it was also a new route. Was it possible that pylon installation wasn’t completed as yet?

  She looked out the window and saw in the distance what seemed to be scaffolding adjacent to one of the pylon towers.

  “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  “Repeat question?” responded the computer.

  “Computer, take me to the nearest town.”

  “Nearest town is Goulburn, NSW.”

  “Okay, take me there,” said Janine, furious at the woman at the car-rental place for failing to warn her about this eventuality.

  The car drove a few more miles until it came to rest outside a house in a town with a CBD that appeared not much bigger than her suburb back home.

  “Damn, what now?”

  “Please repeat the question?” asked the computer.

  “Oh shut up!”

  The computer asked again, which just drew further insults.

  “ACE off!” she commanded.

  The computer’s voice finally fell silent and the motor died.

  Janine clambered out of the car, adjusting her tight black skirt. She looked at her watch. It was just after ten pm, yet despite the late hour, it was still remarkably warm. A hologram across the road displayed an advert of a traditional family all eating Vegemite at the breakfast table, now available in a giant two-gallon container, with a new preservative that allowed consumption at any time, without the worry of a best-by date.

  She scanned the street, which was unnervingly quiet, apart from an annoying dog howling repetitively at the full moon. Janine was used to the constant frenetic activity of San Antonia.

  She approached the first house she came to that had a light on inside and was unimpressed by the building’s facade. It must have been at least fifty years old, and was constructed with brick and wood. She looked for a vidcom security system, but there was none to be seen, so she rang the doorbell. Ten seconds later, she heard loud footsteps approaching.

  A man in his mid to late thirties opened the door. He was tall and solidly built, and although unshaven and dressed in worn-out jeans and a white T-shirt, was surprisingly handsome, albeit in a very rugged sort of way.

  “Yes, Miss, what can I do for you? Do you realize the time?” he said, rubbing his eyes.

  “Sorry to disturb you, but my car just ran out of electricity. It’s a rental and the woman forgot to inform me that there were no wireless recharge pylons on this road. I have to get to Canberra urgently. Do you perhaps have a portable recharge kit?”

  The man did not respond. He seemed to be staring at her feet.

  “Did you hear what I said, mister?” Janine said. She hated nothing more than being ignored. She had walked out of numerous restaurants in the past for precisely that reason.

  His eyes grew larger, his gaze moving to the ground next to where she was standing.

  “Don’t move. Not an inch,” he commanded.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Janine froze with terror. From the look on the man’s face, something was seriously wrong.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a brown. Nasty buggers. One bite from her and you’re in hospital in an hour or you’re a gonner.”

  “What’s a brown?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat.

  “A fucking snake, lady. What planet are you from?”

  Janine cautiously turned her head and peered down. There, sliding over her left shoe was a large brown reptile, its tongue darting in and out of its mouth, tasting the warm, dry night air.

  “Oh my god.”

  “Just be calm. She won’t attack unless you give her reason to, or of course if her young’ns are nearby.”

  “Young’ns?”

  “You really aren’t from this planet, are you?” he said quietly, trying not to alarm the snake.

  “I’m an American in case you can’t hear,” she whispered back in a hoarse voice. Her throat had suddenly become very dry.

  “Its babies. If she has her brood nearby, she’ll be aggressive.”

  The serpent slowly continued its slithery journey across Janine’s foot. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine this was just a bad dream. The man carefully reached for his rifle, which was serendipitously located in the entrance hall and a couple of seconds later there was a loud bang. Janine almost exploded with fright, screaming as she opened her eyes and saw the rifle clutched in the man’s hand, smoke drifting from the barrel. She looked down at her feet to find the lifeless serpent lying there, bits of its head shattered into pieces.

  “Are you crazy? You could’ve killed me!”

  “A thank you would be nice,” he remarked nonchalantly, placing the rifle against the wall.

  “You could’ve shot me, for god’s sake!”

  “I used to be a sniper in the SAS, Miss. I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, well you still scared me half to death,” she said, her hand clutching at her chest.

  “Gee, I thought the snake was already doing that.”

  Janine tried to recompose herself, attempting to force a smile for the man, but one wasn’t quick in coming. She straightened her skirt and adjusted her beret.

  “Now, Miss …?”

  “Fuller.”

  “G’day, Miss Fuller. Jack Keagan here.”

  The man reached out his hand to shake Janine’s, who cautiously obliged. He shook her hand firmly. “Miss Fuller, now where were we?” he asked.

  “I believe I was asking you for some electricity.”

  “That’s right. And I believe I can do better than that. It just so happens I was about to head into the office as the alarm had sounded. I need to check that nothing’s been tampered with. Happy to give you a ride.”

  “I’d be most apprec
iative, that’s if it’s no trouble, of course.”

  “I wouldn’t offer if it were trouble,” he said, shrugging his extremely broad shoulders.

  “What about my car?” she asked.

  “Call the rental company and explain what happened. Let ’em send someone to collect it.”

  Janine pulled out her phone, plugged in the USB port she had been given by the woman with the mole, and all the relevant information popped up on the screen. She found the number and dialed it.

  After giving the saleslady a mouthful, she then relayed the various vehicle details to her and returned to the car to grab her bags. She placed her luggage in the trunk of the four-wheel drive and then climbed onto the back seat.

  “Where the bloody hell do ya think you’re going? In case you didn’t realize it, I’m not a taxi.”

  “The front?” she asked, frowning.

  “Of course the front. There’s no daft automatic chauffeur here, lady. I don’t trust the damn things, never have.” She watched as he climbed into the driver’s seat. Even in the dim moonlight she could tell that he was very well built.

  “You mean you drive?” she asked.

  “Of course I drive, most of the blokes around here drive. Why pay an extra five grand for a machine to do a job that you can do for nothing?”

  Janine shook her head. The first day the commercial automated chauffeur was released to the public, she had rushed out to buy one. Why drive if she didn’t have to, had been her reasoning.

  Jack started the ignition, and within a few minutes they were back on the newly opened freeway.

  “How long will it take to get to Canberra?”

  “Where in Canberra are you going?” he asked, winding down the window.

  “Mount Stromlo Observatory.”

  “About thirty minutes, give or take.”

  Jack rubbed his nose. He seemed to be checking her out, but she had to give it to him, he was trying his best to do it discreetly.