"But is that all we need?"
"Well, a detonator of course. But again, if we check out the farms we'll find a stack of them somewhere. Jock worked for ICI and he said they sold over a thousand plain detonators every month in Wirrawee alone. What I can do is make a small bomb from anfo, with a detonator, and if we buried that in a big pile of loose anfo, and confined it, well, we'd make a bigger blast than Texas Harbour."
"What's Texas Harbour?" Fi asked.
"Texas Harbour was an explosion that blew up a port and killed 400 people. There was a ship loaded with ammonium nitrate and they'd been spraying the holds with mineral wax, so that was the fuel. Then someone chucked down a cigarette and the cargo caught fire. They shut the holds, thinking that'd cut off the oxygen, but they didn't realise the fertiliser produces its own oxygen. Being in a confined space, it built up so much pressure that when it blew, it basically blew the whole town away. Oklahoma City, that was anfo, too. Half a tonne of it, and they blew a nine-storey building in half."
We listened intently. "You see," Homer said at last, "like we told you, we're on our way to Cobbler's Bay. We don't know what we're going to do there; we mightn't have a chance to do anything. But it's probably the most important target we could ever have. All we know for sure is they're not likely to have petrol tankers sitting around waiting for us. If we make our own bomb we at least reduce the problems by one. Then all we have to do is get the thing in there and detonate it."
"God," said Fi. "I don't know about this. We're not professional soldiers, remember. I don't think we should get out of our depth. This is the most scary conversation we've ever had."
"It may never happen," Homer said.
Fi looked troubled. "We've done so well when we stayed in our own district and did what we could there. We can't do everything. This sounds too big."
"I just don't know if there's any point," I said, joining in. "This war looks hopeless. I don't think we're going to make a difference, no matter what we do."
"Yeah, we're on a hiding to nothing," Lee said. It was unusual for Lee to have so little fight in him, but he was in one of his depressions. Sooner or later the killing of the soldier at the well had to catch up with him, and I think now it had. Plus he was still really tired from nursing us.
"I remember you guys talking like that the other day," Kevin said. "I don't think it's quite that bad."
I was interested in that.
"What do you know that we don't?" I asked.
"Well, there's good news and bad news, of course. But the good news adds up. This war isn't over yet, not by a long way."
"Go on," Homer said eagerly. We were all getting excited. We needed to hear this.
"Don't you listen to the radio any more?" Kevin asked. "What happened to Corrie's trannie?"
"We ran out of batteries. We left it back in Hell. Anyway, there hadn't been much news of the war at all, and what there was seemed all bad. And then wherever we looked we saw colonists. We've hardly seen any opposition. Except ours."
"Well, there's been quite a lot going on. They had a radio at the Showground, a secret one, that not even all the prisoners knew about. But Dad listened to it, and he passed on news to me. See, there's not just the international radio stations, there's quite a few guerilla ones, and there's the ones in the Free Zones."
"What are the Free Zones?"
Kevin looked astonished. "Geez, you don't know much. There's a few Free Zones."
"The Outback?"
"Nuh, not really. They control that too, now, because it's so bare they can easily pick up anyone moving around. They use radar and aircraft there. No, the main Free Zones are Cape Martindale, where New Guinea troops landed, and from Newburn right through to the mountains, where the Army had a heap of troops stationed. And Newington and all the Burdekin, where the Kiwis landed. They hold that whole area now."
There was a pause while we digested all that.
"What else is good news?" I asked.
"The attack on Cobbler's Bay, for one thing. Do you know about that?"
"Yes, tell us," I said excitedly. "We saw a bit of it. Well, at least Robyn and Lee heard them, and I saw the smoke."
"OK, they bombed it pretty heavily. According to the radio they sank seven ships, but there were some casualties taken to Wirrawee Hospital, prisoners who'd been working there, and they said the real figure was three. Whatever, it was quite a success."
"That might make it more dangerous for us," Robyn said.
"It could. The rumour at the Showground was that they were putting in more ground-to-air missiles, but that could work in our favour. They wouldn't be expecting a land attack."
"But they arc still using Cobblers?" Fi asked.
"Yeah, apparently. It's a big part of their operation."
"Let's not get too uptight about it all," Homer said. "We're not locked into anything. If we get to Cobbler's Bay and decide it's too much for us, we'll just go quietly away again."
"Sounds good in theory," I said. "But knowing you, Homer ... I mean, at every birthday party we ever had, you were the one who went around sticking pins in the balloons. Somehow I can't imagine you sneaking quietly away without trying anything."
"Tell us more about our families," Robyn said quickly, before I could stir Homer up too much.
Kevin sighed. "Aw gee," he said, "like I told you, they're not too bad. I mean, Ellie, honestly, your Dad, talk about putting pins in balloons, he couldn't walk past a bull without sticking a pin up its backside. Every time a sentry comes near him, he's looking for a fight. What is it with the guy? He's going to get himself in trouble."
"I don't know what it is with him," I said. "If you ever work it out, let me know. He's a mystery to me."
"And your brother aggravates them, too," Kevin said to Homer.
"Yeah, the old George doesn't have much sense of humour."
"How's Ton?" Fi asked.
Victoria, Fi's little sister, got asthma pretty badly.
Kevin made a face. "Well, there's no Ventolin any more, so she's had a few bad attacks. They got permission to move her and a couple of others into the Show Secretary's Office, because they realised they were allergic to something in the Cattle and Horse Pavilions."
"Mmm, all that horsehair, and straw, and grass seeds," Fi said. "Tori's allergic to everything."
"She's been better since then," Kevin said. "But everyone gets sick at the Showground. It's terrible. You've got no idea. Castro goes through the place every second day. Like locusts through lucerne. We've had mumps, we've had measles, we've had everything. That's why I volunteered for work parties."
"Yeah, what's the story with these work parties?" I asked.
"What's the story? They're just a way to get out of the Showground. At first it was all a hit rough and ready-but now they're quite organised. You have to be part of a family so they can hold hostages to stop you escaping. You have to have some skills and you have to be fairly fit. That's about all."
"How come we didn't see anyone we knew around Wirrawee? You were the first person we recognised, and you were a long way from Wirrawee."
"Yeah, they do that deliberately. Like I said, they're quite organised now. They keep you away from your own district. It's just a security thing. And I think maybe it's because people get too emotional when they see colonists moving into then homes."
We told Kevin all the other things that had happened to us; and went into more detail about the death of Chris. It was no fun having to recall stuff that I'd started to forget, and badly wanted to forget. But I suppose it was good for us to talk about Chris—we'd never really discussed it among ourselves. His death was so stupid and senseless. Rolling a car when he was drunk—it's the sort of thing that happens in peacetime, and it's bad enough then, but it seemed such a waste when we'd survived so much already. Plus, maybe we all felt a bit guilty about leaving him on his own in Hell, even though that's what he'd wanted.
So we talked about all that, a bit. And that led us on to telling Kevin abou
t Harvey's Heroes: this bunch of middle-aged adults who'd blundered around in the bush, trying to be tough, and nearly getting us wiped out. And afterwards we'd realised that their leader, Major Harvey, had sold out to the enemy.
Kevin got excited then.
"This Major Harvey. What's he look like?"
"Like a forty-four gallon drum," Homer promptly said.
"With a head on top," Lee added.
"Like a garden gnome," Robyn said.
"Like a revolting little pile of sheep poo," Fi said. I was impressed. At least we'd taught Fi one thing about rural life: what sheep poo looked like.
"He's got black hair," I said to Kevin. I shivered a little as I recalled my first meeting with the Major. We'd stumbled onto his group by chance, and even though we'd felt relieved to be with adults again, I'd sensed from the start that something was wrong about the whole setup. "He's quite plump in the face. He's got a big nose. And his head, he holds it in a funny way, like he's got a stiff neck or something."
"Yeah, that's the guy," Kevin said. He leaned, back nodding his head.
"What do you mean? You saw him?"
"Well, he's not like a personal friend, not my best mate, no. I met him once, before the war. But I've heard plenty about him lately, and I've seen him from a distance a few times."
"What? That's impossible," Fi said.
"When was the last time?" Homer asked quickly.
"Oh, gee, about three weeks ago."
"Oh no!" I cried.
"Are you sure?" Homer asked.
"Yeah, probably a bit less than three weeks. He came round with a group of high-ranking soldiers to have a look at the work we were doing. We all had to stand there seriously and act like we were impressed."
"We thought we'd wiped him out ages ago," I explained. "When we blew up Turner Street we thought we'd got him. That was half the reason we made the attack."
"Mmm, but remember, you said his car wasn't there that night," Fi said to Homer.
"Yeah, true, I did say that."
"So he's alive," I said. I sat there, stunned. I didn't want to believe it, but I had to. "Tell us what you know about him," I finally said to Kevin.
"OK, he's an asshole. What else do you want to know?"
"Everything."
"Geez, where do I start? He turned up in April, I think. He's from Risdon. He's a teacher, I know that much; in fact, he was Deputy Principal at Risdon High. I remember when we played footie against them. He walked over to me at half-time and veiled at me for tackling one of their players. Reckoned I'd gone in too high. Fair dinks, I thought he was going to hit me. I thought he was a real wanker then, and I know it for sure now. That was the only time I'd met him before the war. When he came to the Showground they called us all together and he gave us a lecture on how the invasion wasn't as bad as we might think, and how this country needed a good shake-up, and if we work with these turkeys instead of against them we'll be better off in the long run.
"The soldiers loved it; they were beaming away, but geez, Ellie, if you could have seen your father's face! Lucky Harvey didn't see him or he would have been the first one picked. 'Cos, yeah, I forgot, you don't know what he's been up to: 'after that speech they started picking people to be interrogated by him. It got really heavy for a while. Harvey seems to know a lot about Wirrawee. He picked out anyone with military training, plus all the coppers. Some of them were allowed back, if they gave the right answers I guess, but some just disappeared. We only found out a few weeks ago that they've been taken to a maximum-security prison somewhere. But the rumour is that a few of them got shot; like, executed.
"They reckon Harvey's setting himself up to be Governor or something; that he's going to turn himself into a little dictator. It's probably right. If you'd seen him with these geezers—they were all like the greatest mates, best buddies. It wasn't a pretty sight."
"After we've finished at Cobbler's Bay we'll go and kill him," Lee said to me.
I'd given up getting angry with Lee when he talked like that. He did it so often now, whenever he got upset about some bad thing that had happened. He just suddenly said things like he was a robot, programmed to kill, when I knew he wasn't, not at all.
Mind you, I'd gone the same way when I'd seen Corrie in the hospital.
Kevin didn't have much to add to what he'd told us. We sat around for another hour or more, talking endlessly about the problems, trying to think of possible solutions. We were depressed to know that Harvey was still on the loose, and Lee's direct approach got quite a bit of support. In the end I got sick of it and went off and started getting lunch ready.
Nine
Cobbler's Bay was like something out of a war movie. OK, so I'm just a simple little rural who's never been anywhere beyond Stratton in her life. To me, seeing traffic lights was a big thrill. Every time we went to Stratton I grabbed any excuse to ride up and down the escalators, like a six-year-old. So to look out over Cobbler's and see an aircraft carrier, an oil tanker, two small patrol vessels and three container ships was unbelievable. Two long large jetties had been built and all the ships, except the aircraft carrier and the patrol ships, were moored to them. The others were parked at buoys out in the clear water Prefab sheds had been put up along the shore and huge bitumen loading areas laid down. There were cars and trucks everywhere and people wandering about in all directions. Around the perimeter was a high barbed-wire fence, very temporary looking and three tanks just sitting there There were other things too, like big gun barrels poking out of mounds of dirt. Kevin thought they were the ground-to-air missiles he'd heard about.
One thing was certain though: that air raid had been a ripper. We could see a long null over near the rocks to our left, a destroyer maybe, that was a complete wreck, jammed upside down. Lee pointed to a shape we could see shimmering under the water near the heads that looked like another large ship, totally submerged. To the left of the prefabs was the wreckage of a group of buildings; nothing but blackened rafters and a few sheets of torn metal flapping in the wind. Over in the bush even further to the left were two huge craters of torn earth and shattered trees where they must have missed their aim. It looked like the beginnings for a new woodchip industry.
The only entrance to the new port of Cobbler's Bay-was a gate with a hut for sentries, and a barrier that they raised and lowered by hand. I'm sure the U.S. Marines would have done the whole thing better, with electric fences and laser beams and electronic security checks, but there was none of that stuff. It looked like it had all been thrown together quickly for the least amount of money possible. This was definitely not twenty-first century technology.
Still, it was formidable enough. It scared the hell out of me. When we were younger, and Dad wasn't around, we sometimes shot up a wasps' nest for fun. You'd get what you hoped was a safe distance away and then empty a .22 magazine or a couple of shells into it. It got pretty wild at times. This place was bigger and meaner than any wasps' nest, and I wasn't in such a hurry to stir it up.
It did make me angry. Cobbler's Bay was among the most beautiful places on Earth. Well,' seeing I'd never been beyond Stratton, perhaps I couldn't really go around saving that. "Yes, ladies and gentlemen, in my vast experience of international travel, after exploring every corner of the globe, I can honestly tell you that Cobbler's Bay is one of the seven scenic wonders of the world."
But it was beautiful. It was one of those places where the hills meet the sea, so you have the best of them both. There was quite good cover down to the beach, because it was heavily forested right to the road, and the road curved around the bay. Once you cross the road you take half a dozen steps and you're on the sand: fine white sand that runs through your fingers and tickles your toes. You can walk straight on and enter the water,' or you can turn left or right and follow the sand around to the rocks. Either way you know you're in a kind of heaven, because of the secret green woods in the background and the rich blue sky above and the dancing blue sea ahead.
The weather always seem
ed perfect at Cobbler's Bay.
I know it's greedy of me to want it all to myself but even in peacetime when we drove to Cobbler's for a swim and a picnic, I resented finding other people there. I'm sure they resented us, too. So to come in wartime and find ugly growths all over it and great monstrous ships sitting on its innocent water, like big metal leeches, made me both angry and unhappy. I wanted to do something about it but couldn't even imagine how we might. For once, this enemy fortress looked way beyond our capabilities. Those ships and jetties and even the prefab buildings seemed solid and settled and, after all, what were we? Just a bunch of kids, a bunch of amateurs.
"I've only got one idea so far," Homer said, unexpectedly.
I was deeply impressed. While I sat there thinking black depressed angry thoughts Homer was already figuring out possibilities.
"What?"
"With the bush so close to their buildings we could light a bushfire as a distraction. They'd have to put all their energies into fighting it, because if the wind's blowing in the right direction it'd come roaring down the hill here and land on top of them."
"That's not a bad idea," Robyn said thoughtfully. "It's quite likely it'd end up as more than a distraction. It could do most of our work for us. It could easily wipe those buildings out. Once it jumped the road there's nothing to stop it."
"As long as we don't burn ourselves up," Fi said nervously.
"What do we actually want to destroy?" I asked. "I mean, we're not going to be able to do anything about those ships, are we?"
"Not the ones out there at anchor," Lee said. "But the ones at the jetties are possible."
"That's an oil tanker, Ellie," Homer said. "You're the petrol head, aren't you?"
"Mmm, love it. Just point me towards it and give me a box of matches."
I felt a fluttering in the stomach when I said that, though. I never felt comfortable with jokes about the things we'd done.
We sat there looking at it all. The bushfire idea was cute but I couldn't see much beyond it. A bushfire wouldn't hurt the ships, unless we fluked a few lucky-sparks landing on the tanker. As a distraction, it might get us into the place, but there was a good chance it wouldn't. And then we had to get away again afterwards. That was the most important thing, and might well be the hardest.