Walking to the Stars (11 page)

There, running right across Nick's chest, were two open sores, swollen and raised, crusting over with blood. They seemed more real somehow than Samuel's matching sores, and Samuel reached out a hand and ran it over Nick's belly, across the sparse hair there, then he unbuttoned the front of Nick's trousers.

Nick didn't try to stop him, didn't say anything at all, just kept his eyes glued on Samuel's face.

Nick had the most ancient underwear on, sagging and worn and threadbare, and he finally made a noise, a quick inhalation of breath, when Samuel pushed them down.

"Satisfied your curiosity?” Nick said quietly, and Samuel looked up at him and nodded.

"I'll finish making the bed then,” Nick said, and he tucked himself away and did his clothes back up.

Talgerit turned up in the middle of the day, grinning cheerfully as always, and he clambered onto the end of the bed and sat cross-legged in his filthy clothes.

"How're you, Samuel?” he asked. “Sore?"

"Very,” Samuel said, but he couldn't help but smile back.

Nick pulled a clean sweater on over his shirt and said, “How's Girdagan and the baby, Talgerit?"

"Doing well,” Talgerit said. “Baby feeds all the time, like Aunty Lilli says babies should. Dr. Nick going to work, unna?"

"In a moment,” Nick said, and he sat down on the chair and opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of socks. “See?"

"All the girls in camp said, ‘Now Samuel is not a whiteman, we're going to chase him,'” Talgerit said conversationally. “So I told them, ‘Oh no, only person Samuel is kissing is Dr. Nick.’ All the girls were sad."

Nick made a choking noise, then said, “Really? That was a good thing to say, Talgerit."

"But Aunty Lilli scares me, I wouldn't dare touch any of the girls at the camp,” Samuel said.

Talgerit nodded wisely. “Aunty Lilli is scary,” he agreed. “Enough to make me run away, too."

"You don't want to get married, Talgerit, unna?” Nick asked. “Not to a pretty Noongar girl, eh?"

"Not me,” Talgerit said decisively. “Then I'd have to hunt even harder, and she might want to drive my car.” He patted Samuel's foot through the covers. “The car runs well, with no more banging since you fixed it. And it's good to have the lights on at night. Much easier to shoot roos that way."

"That's good,” Samuel said. “Thought you might like having lights that work."

When Nick had left, Talgerit looked expectantly at Samuel. “You gonna listen, unna? Learn about the Law?"

"I'm listening,” Samuel said, and Talgerit arranged himself more comfortably on the bed. “Ah, whiteman beds are good. Now, in the beginning of the Dreaming, the land was flat and black, and there were no rivers or oceans, there was nothing. Then the ancestors came, out of the land and the sky, and with their will they made everything as they moved around.

"The Wagyl was one of those ancestors, it was a big snake that made things where my mob comes from. The waterholes are where it surfaced after traveling underground, then went back down into the ground again. At a place whiteman calls Mt. Stirling, the Wagyl slid down a hill, and you can see that. And the Wagyl made a track with its body, long winding track, and a river filled the track.

"And when the Wagyl came to the place whiteman calls Guildford, it rested for a while, at the neck of the river, then it went down the river, until it found where the water becomes salty from the ocean. It didn't like that, so it went back up a bit, and into a cave under a cliff, and that's where it lives."

Samuel knew the place name ‘Guildford’ from the maps he'd studied, and in fact he was pretty sure he had one of the maps with him. “Talgerit, will you go get the big bag that's on the floor of the room next door?” Samuel asked.

Talgerit scrambled off the bed and bounced out of the room. He was back in a moment, carrying Samuel's duffel bag.

Samuel undid the bag when Talgerit put it on the bed beside him, and rummaged through his clothes. He had a small amount of personal stuff with him, some maps of Perth, copies of detailed diagrams of the clock and academic papers about it, too.

He found one of the maps and unfolded it on the bed. He found Guildford, up where the river looked quite narrow. “Is that where the Wagyl rested?” Samuel asked Talgerit.

Talgerit peered at the map, tracing patterns on it with his fingers. “Sure is.” He tracked his finger down the river, winding it carefully around the curves, rapt concentration on his face. “And here,” he said. “That's where the Wagyl is in the cave. The whiteman put buildings there, silly people. They didn't know the Wagyl was there, not until it came out and ate them. We told them, over and over, ‘Don't disturb the Wagyl', but they made the buildings anyway."

"The Wagyl ate people?” Samuel asked, looking with deep concern at the map, and how close Talgerit's finger was to the yellow area that marked the University of Western Australia.

"Ate whiteman,” Talgerit said. “Not people. It wouldn't eat Noongar unless they'd pissed it off.” He looked up from the map and grinned at Samuel. “You're Noongar now, maybe it won't eat you."

"Maybe not,” Samuel said, but he didn't think that was enough of a guarantee, he'd like a little more certainty about these things. He shifted his finger to the yellow area. “That's where I need to go, Talgerit. Think you might know the way there?"

Talgerit peered at the map and shrugged. “I've not been to Perth since I was a little boy, before the bombs, and I can't remember the roads, but since the roads aren't there anymore, that doesn't matter. I can find it, find Samuel's clock."

"Josh said there were bad lands between here and Perth. What's there?” Samuel asked.

Talgerit shrugged, eloquent expression of unconcern. “Don't know. Ed says that the Dreaming has come back in places, and we'll have to cross them, but we can do that."

"Are you scared of that?” Samuel asked.

Talgerit lifted his substantial eyebrows. “I'm not, but I didn't scream when Ed scarred me. Maybe you and Dr. Nick will be scared, but I won't. Now, I want to hear your Law, about going to the moon. How will we get there? What does the machine look like that will take us?"

Samuel folded the map up and put it away, and leaned back against the bed head. This was something he knew all about, something he'd lived with for the past seven years, he could talk for hours about the project.

He was still talking when Nick came back to the farm, with Talgerit wide-eyed and enthralled, listening to every word, even though Samuel had given up attempting to translate from the engineering terms he was so familiar with into something that Talgerit might have the life experience to understand.

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Talgerit hauled on the starter cord, yanking it hard, yet again, and the generator gave a hopeful chug that time.

"Gonna work, Samuel, eh?” he asked, looking hopefully at Samuel, who was soldering connections in the lighting switch board he'd rigged up for the camp.

Samuel reached over and pressed his fingers over the repaired injector unit, and it felt like the seal was holding. “Could be,” he said. “Keep trying."

Talgerit gripped the end of the cord again, where it had wound back, and flexed his muscular arms. They'd been doing this for a while, trying to get the generator started, and it was hard work, at least for Talgerit who was doing the sweating.

This time the chug lasted longer, then died off. Talgerit said something in Noongar, and the tone made it clear it was obscene, then hauled on the cord again. This time the generator spluttered into life, the chugging catching, and Samuel could hear the compression building in the chamber.

Talgerit shouted jubilantly and bounced out of the shack the generator was housed in, and Samuel followed him more slowly, moving cautiously and pausing to pull his trousers away from the wounds on his thigh.

Talgerit was running around the clearing in the middle of the shacks, leaping in the air, and Samuel grinned widely. He felt a bit like that himself.

"I'll try the lights!” Talgerit shouted as people began to appear from the bush and shacks. He dove back into the generator shack, behind Samuel, and began flicking switches at random.

The floodlight over the clearing began to glow faintly, and Samuel stood there, propped up on one crutch still, nodding to himself with satisfaction.

People in the clearing cheered. Talgerit bounced out of the shack again and slapped Samuel hard on the back, making him wobble.

"It works!” Talgerit said, shining brighter than the floodlight that was glowing under the overcast sky.

"I've hooked it up to the bore pump, too,” Samuel said. “So the bore will run at night if you need it to."

"What you going to fix next?” Talgerit asked expectantly.

Samuel looked around the camp. “Where's the toilets?” he asked Talgerit. Everyone pissed in the forest, he knew that, but they couldn't shit in the forest, too, not and be hygienic.

Talgerit looked puzzled. “Toilets are for whiteman,” he explained. “Noongar don't have them."

It was Samuel's turn to look puzzled. “Where do you shit?"

They'd run into a cultural difference, obviously, because Talgerit said, “Wherever we want to. Not next to the creek, not in the camp, because that makes people sick."

"Doesn't it make people sick, just leaving your shit lying around?” Samuel asked, now genuinely curious.

Talgerit started laughing, and in between guffaws he said, “Doesn't lie around. That's what dogs are for."

Samuel looked at the collection of wide-faced pointy-nosed yellow dogs that were gamboling around the camp, playing with the kids, with horror. He'd patted those dogs, especially the puppies that one bitch had with her, let them climb into his lap...

Talgerit elbowed Samuel, chuckling away. “Samuel is Noongar now, he has to shit in the bush. Don't worry, we'll take a dog with us to Perth. So, what are you fixing?"

"Think I should go fix Nick's house,” Samuel said. “I still haven't got his lighting working yet. Will you drive me there?"

"Drive you anywhere, Samuel,” Talgerit said. “And you have to make Dr. Nick happy, or he might not kiss you again."

In the darkness of the winter night, with rain just starting, after spending an hour with a fretful Mrs. Pocock the Elder, Nick pulled the van in beside the shearing shed and stared at his house in amazement. Instead of a faint yellow splinter of candle light in the kitchen window, the whole place was lit up, bright white light spilling out onto the garden, the light over the back door was on, and the whole place looked like the Christmas trees of his childhood.

He hung his raincoat up, stepped out of his boots, patted a bewildered Harold on the head, sniffed appreciatively at the cooking smells and pushed the kitchen door open.

Samuel was standing in front of the stove, lit brilliantly by the light bulb hanging in the middle of the room, stirring something, and the full wave of spice and onion hit Nick's nostrils.

Talgerit was leaning over the stove beside Samuel, and he looked up and grinned at Nick. “Hey, Dr. Nick,” he said. “Samuel has made your lights work."

Samuel smiled at Nick, and Nick said, “Forget the lights, that smells fantastic. Where's Josh? He can't possibly have gone somewhere else for dinner, not with whatever you're cooking on the menu."

"He's off at Jo's, swapping a goose for the ingredients for tonight's dinner,” Samuel said. “Thought we could eat something other than roast sheep."

"So what are we having then?” Nick asked, peering over Samuel's other shoulder and breathing in deeply.

"Something with some flavor in it,” Samuel said determinedly. “For a change. I was surprised to find out from Jo that it is possible to buy spices in Albany. For some reason, perhaps having only had hospital food and the food here, I'd got the impression that there was no flavoring available anywhere."

"Spices cost scrip,” Nick pointed out he stuck his fingers into the mess in the pan and snared a piece of meat. “Oh, that's good,” he said, licking his fingers. “What is it?"

"Metagee,” Samuel said. “Or it would be if I could get all of the ingredients. It's something close to metagee. And it only takes a tiny bit of spice to make something taste good."

The rich first taste of the metagee faded, and a burn spread through Nick's mouth. He gasped and said, “That's not just a little bit of spice."

Talgerit said, “He put his fingers in the food! That's not fair. You won't let me do that."

"That's because you come from a camp with no toilets,” Samuel said. “And Dr. Nick washes his hands all the time.” Samuel looked at Nick and added, “How can the conditions be bearable? With the dogs eating the shit?"

"They're coprophagic,” Nick said. “It's a reasonable hunter-gatherer solution to the problem, but you're right, too, there's no way I'd let Talgerit put his hands in the food.” He grabbed another piece of meat and ate it.

"You'll change your mind,” Talgerit said. “When you want me to catch and cook rabbits, when we go to Perth."

Talgerit's car rumbled into the yard, beside the shearing shed, and a minute later Josh walked into the house, nose in the air, sniffing.

"That just gets better and better, each time I smell it,” Josh said, sitting down at the kitchen table. “When's dinner?"

"When the wheat is cooked,” Samuel said, lifting the lid off another pan, letting out a blast of steam.

"You can't boil wheat,” Nick said, looking at the roiling water, and the grains of wheat swirling in it.

"Of course I can,” Samuel said. “It was the closest thing I could find to rice, to go with the metagee."

At the dinner table, across the loaded plates, Nick said, “That's so good."

Talgerit looked up from shoveling food into his mouth voraciously. “Excellent,” he said around a mouthful of wheat and meat. “Dr. Nick, no wonder you want to kiss Samuel."

Nick caught the momentary pause in Josh's gorging that Talgerit's comment caused, ignored it, ate another mouthful, and let the taste linger. He could remember food he'd eaten a lifetime ago, curries and fried chicken and sushi, and wine he had drunk, but he'd never expected to taste anything remotely like them again. The metagee was sweet and spicy at first, then meaty and salty, then hot, burning his mouth.