Walking to the Stars by Laney Cairo

Author:Laney Cairo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Torquere Press

Chapter Nine

There were advantages to having Talgerit squashed into the front of the van with them, Nick decided. Samuel was pressed against Nick, jostling his arm when he had to swing the steering wheel hard to swerve around a pothole or a goanna, legs spread with the gear shift stick between them, convenient for Nick to rest his hand on Samuel's thigh when they were on a decent bit of road.

Talgerit was scanning the countryside, eyes constantly on the move, singing to himself quietly enough that Nick couldn't hear him unless they were on a smooth bit of road.

This was Talgerit's birthplace, Nick knew that. Talgerit had left the area, Quairading, Pantapin and Badjaling, when he was a child, fleeing the radioactive clouds blown inland from Perth, heading south with his mob. Coming back, seeing the hills and trees of his own Dreaming, must be an intense experience for Talgerit.

Talgerit's song, crooning in the van cabin, made Nick wonder what it would be like to return to Perth. He'd been back, of course, as part of the military response to the bombings, taking care of evacuees, but he could remember very little of that time apart from the patients he'd treated.

People lived here, farming the land, running sheep and wheat, and exactly how settled the land was became obvious when the road into Quairading was barricaded and a man in khaki uniform held up the hand that wasn't holding an HK MP5, indicating for them to stop.

Samuel tensed up beside Nick, digging his fingers into Nick's thigh. “Oh fuck,” he whispered.

"Talgerit,” Nick said, taking the van down through the gears quickly, bring it to a halt.

"Got it, Dr. Nick,” Talgerit said, and he opened the van door and hopped out and walked up to the man who was approaching them.

Nick couldn't read Talgerit's lips, but he knew what he'd be saying. The remote military outposts tried not to tangle with the Feathermen, because there were plenty of things out there that couldn't be shot at successfully. Like boyee. Last thing a military installation wanted was for a Featherman to send a boyee in; heavy earth-moving equipment was scarce and so hard to explain in triplicate.

Talgerit strolled back to the van, wide grin on his face. When he'd slammed the door shut and the man in khaki was moving the barrier, Nick said, “What did you threaten him with?"

"Bad things,” Talgerit said. “I said I'd make him smell if he didn't let us through. Reckon young man like him'd be shagging a girl for sure, eh?"

"For sure,” Nick said as they rolled through the checkpoint, and he could see the reflection of the man sniffing himself surreptitiously in the rear view mirror. “Can't go shagging if he smells bad."

"Will there be many road blocks?” Samuel asked worriedly. “I don't have refugee papers or anything."

"Dunno,” Talgerit said. “Won't be any at Walwalinj, there's too much Dreaming there, they'd go mad."

Two hours later, when the farmlands had been replaced by bush again, Talgerit pointed at the hill ahead of them.

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