Read Online The Stars Down Under by Sandra McDonald - Free Book Online
Authors: Sandra McDonald
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wouldnât go gallivanting around the universe without him, anyway. Jodenny tried pinging him from the monorail, but he didnât respond to his bee. He hadnât left any messages and Betsy reported that he wasnât home.
That was strange, but perhaps heâd gone to the gym and left his bee on a locker shelf. Once she was home and out of her uniform, Jodenny tried calling him again. No answer. She curled up on the ugly sofa with her gib, reading the news, watching the daylight fade outside. Karl snuggled between her feet, his ears twitching.
âWhere are you?â she asked the ceiling.
Myell didnât answer.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Myell couldnât reach his bee. It buzzed more than once, and he imagined Jodennyâs increasing worry on the other end. Sooner or later she would call the duty officer at Supply School to find out what time heâd left. The duty officer would report that he hadnât flashed his ID at the lobby security scanner on his way out. A search might commence. The idea of anyone finding him here, bound and gagged in the dark, was utterly humiliating.
He twisted and squirmed for the knots. Some large piece of machinery nearby started to hiss. Warm air blasted over him, and the dark terror of the hood over his head dissolved into a burnt-red desert that he hadnât seen since Warramala.
This landscape was different from the one heâd experienced then. A watering hole, large and unexpectedly blue, lay not far from his feet. A crocodile was immersed in it. Only the creatureâs head and snout showed. Its teeth were white like bone, its skin gray verging on black.
âI didnât have time for you,â Myell said, shuddering.
The crocodile stared at him, its eyes flat and green. âJungali,â it said, though its mouth didnât move.
Myell tried closing his eyes, but they were already closed. Jungali was the nickname his mother had given him as a child. Was the name the Rainbow Serpent had used, in asking him to choose between the so-called real world and the Dreamtime.
âThatâs not me,â he said.
The ground around the watering hole rippled, and another reptile tore free of the ground. It rose on its hind legs like a dinosaur might. Its breath smelled like burnt flesh, like something rancid and rotting left to dry under the sun. Thunderhead clouds boiled in the sky.
âJungali!â the crocodile cried, and scurried out of the waterhole toward him. The dinosaur-thing attacked it with claws and teeth, and their ferocious struggles ripped through the air.
Myell jerked backward. The vision disappeared, replaced by darkness and the sounds of machinery, the cut of rope against his skin. Oxygen was becoming a problem. He forced himself to calm down, but it took several long moments before he could breathe steadily through his nose, and even longer before his hands were steady enough to get to work.
He finally managed to free himself, at the cost of torn and scraped wrists. The rest of the faculty and students had long departed the school, and the lobby was empty but for a bored-looking AT.
âNight, Chief,â he said, as Myell passed through the scanners.
The air outside was fresh and mild compared to the basement. The after-work crowd had thinned. If he checked over his shoulder once or twice, that was caution and not paranoia. On the train ride home he worried how he was going to explain things. Jodenny would want to get involved, pull rank, pull strings, as she had on the Aral Sea. He didnât need to be rescued by his wife. He wouldnât allow a repeat of the bullying there to mar his time on Fortune.
His bee was silent, though. Maybe sheâd given up trying to contact him. When the monorail drew close to Adeline Oaks, he pinged Betsy.
âCommander Scott is asleep,â she told him. âShall I wake her? She was eager to reach you.â
âNo,â Myell said. âLeave her
That was strange, but perhaps heâd gone to the gym and left his bee on a locker shelf. Once she was home and out of her uniform, Jodenny tried calling him again. No answer. She curled up on the ugly sofa with her gib, reading the news, watching the daylight fade outside. Karl snuggled between her feet, his ears twitching.
âWhere are you?â she asked the ceiling.
Myell didnât answer.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Myell couldnât reach his bee. It buzzed more than once, and he imagined Jodennyâs increasing worry on the other end. Sooner or later she would call the duty officer at Supply School to find out what time heâd left. The duty officer would report that he hadnât flashed his ID at the lobby security scanner on his way out. A search might commence. The idea of anyone finding him here, bound and gagged in the dark, was utterly humiliating.
He twisted and squirmed for the knots. Some large piece of machinery nearby started to hiss. Warm air blasted over him, and the dark terror of the hood over his head dissolved into a burnt-red desert that he hadnât seen since Warramala.
This landscape was different from the one heâd experienced then. A watering hole, large and unexpectedly blue, lay not far from his feet. A crocodile was immersed in it. Only the creatureâs head and snout showed. Its teeth were white like bone, its skin gray verging on black.
âI didnât have time for you,â Myell said, shuddering.
The crocodile stared at him, its eyes flat and green. âJungali,â it said, though its mouth didnât move.
Myell tried closing his eyes, but they were already closed. Jungali was the nickname his mother had given him as a child. Was the name the Rainbow Serpent had used, in asking him to choose between the so-called real world and the Dreamtime.
âThatâs not me,â he said.
The ground around the watering hole rippled, and another reptile tore free of the ground. It rose on its hind legs like a dinosaur might. Its breath smelled like burnt flesh, like something rancid and rotting left to dry under the sun. Thunderhead clouds boiled in the sky.
âJungali!â the crocodile cried, and scurried out of the waterhole toward him. The dinosaur-thing attacked it with claws and teeth, and their ferocious struggles ripped through the air.
Myell jerked backward. The vision disappeared, replaced by darkness and the sounds of machinery, the cut of rope against his skin. Oxygen was becoming a problem. He forced himself to calm down, but it took several long moments before he could breathe steadily through his nose, and even longer before his hands were steady enough to get to work.
He finally managed to free himself, at the cost of torn and scraped wrists. The rest of the faculty and students had long departed the school, and the lobby was empty but for a bored-looking AT.
âNight, Chief,â he said, as Myell passed through the scanners.
The air outside was fresh and mild compared to the basement. The after-work crowd had thinned. If he checked over his shoulder once or twice, that was caution and not paranoia. On the train ride home he worried how he was going to explain things. Jodenny would want to get involved, pull rank, pull strings, as she had on the Aral Sea. He didnât need to be rescued by his wife. He wouldnât allow a repeat of the bullying there to mar his time on Fortune.
His bee was silent, though. Maybe sheâd given up trying to contact him. When the monorail drew close to Adeline Oaks, he pinged Betsy.
âCommander Scott is asleep,â she told him. âShall I wake her? She was eager to reach you.â
âNo,â Myell said. âLeave her
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