2042: The Great Cataclysm (18 page)

Dave was a sponge soaking up every detail Nick threw at him, and by the end of their session Nick’s eyes drooped and his throat hurt. Graham wrote copious while Dave answered the never ending buzz of the room phone, switching now and then to sat-phone for privacy, and signed papers the parade of staff presented to him. Nick had never been in the presence of such a focused and dynamic personality as Dave Parker, and felt some of the weight lifted from his shoulders.

***

As the afternoon dragged on Graham received a call from the Minister for transport. ‘We’ll commandeer every available plane and Veto, but we can’t begin until the news is released. However you can start the ball rolling Graham. Get hold of every available Veto.’  The Minister instructed. ‘Even the ones that are out of service. If they can be fixed, get it done.  I’ve also arranged for hangar space at all the regional airports, and you can use any military base around the country.  You get the equipment and the personnel, we’ll house them for you.’

‘What should I tell the pilots?’ Graham asked.

‘Tell them you’ve got a contract with the Government to assist with an important classified operation. I don’t think they’ll question that. Be careful, they mustn’t get a hint of what’s going on yet. If you need me, my code is Star Flight Simple.’

‘No problem. Thanks. I’ll get moving immediately.’ Graham hung up. ‘Who said the Government are Bureaucrats?  Sorry Dave.’ He grinned. ‘Good old Aussies. They know how to rally ‘round in a crisis. It’s good to be home. If you two will excuse me I’ve got some work to do.  Nick old mate, this is where you and I part company for now. I’ll get a jet to take you home, I’ll call you when I’ve organise it.’ He glanced at Nick who was not wearing an eye-phone and sighed. ‘Leave your sat-phone turned on so I can get a hold of you anytime.’

Nick slapped his arms around Graham in a buddy hug. ‘Thanks for everything mate. God knows, I’d still be in the States if it weren’t for you. You be careful, I want to find you in one piece after all this is over.’

‘Oh, you’ll find me all right, I intend to stay around. I’ve got some good friends in Brisbane so you’ll see me up there soon. Keep your phone charged.’ Saluting briskly he left them to their plans.

Chapter Twenty-one

Graham

Graham’s mother greeted him warmly and took the news of the coming disaster stoically, more than pleased he had returned home, even though he told her he wouldn’t be around much. He felt charged with energy, and although faced with an unimaginable catastrophe, he experienced a certain satisfaction in being needed. All his life he had coasted along from one scrape to another, always managing to stay on top. His conscience was not exactly clear, he had done some things he wasn’t proud of. That conscience pricked him now as he recalled Bob Brewster. Bob would be one of the best blokes he had ever worked for in Sydney in those early days. He had taken Graham on with no experience and trained him in the charter industry, even helped him obtain his pilot’s licence
.
What did I do in return? Knifed him in the back!

Graham had gone out on his own, having bought a small air-charter company.  A juicy mail-run contract was in the offering and Brewster had spent may hours preparing his tender. Graham saw the opportunity but lacked the experience and knowledge to be able to lodge a bid of his own. He broke into Bob’s office one night and copied his tender. He messed the place up and took some office equipment to make it appear like a burglary had taken place.

Bob could never understand how Graham had won that contract over him, and he never suspected anything. His business went down hill after that, along with his health. He sold the business to Graham for peanuts, who went on to build it into one of the largest and most prosperous mail-run enterprises in the country. Graham’s guilt prevented him from keeping in touch with Bob, but he heard through the grapevine that he had never been much good after that, and had retired to a small hobby farm in Sydney’s north-west. He wondered if Bob was still alive today.

Graham had never had time to acquire many real friends, and now it seemed important to earn Nick’s respect. Nick had been his one true friend, but would that friendship remain if he knew about Bob Brewster?  He had no time for self-pity or recriminations. This was his chance to make up for his earlier unconscionable and illegal behaviour and ease his conscience, perhaps even become someone he could be proud of.  He understood now that he had bulldozed his way into big business treading on anyone who got in his way. Despite his hard-nosed approach he had managed to play it reasonably straight since that one bad episode with Brewster. The airline business was tough and he had acquired a reputation for ruthlessness. Suddenly it all meant nothing. Even his failed marriage no longer concerned him. Ahead of him was a challenge that would consume his every waking moment. The exciting thing was that money was no longer a factor, he had access to more than he ever dreamed would be possible.

He pushed the memories away and decided not to wait for the Minister for Transport to call him. ‘Phone.’ He commanded. ‘Parliament House.’

‘What name please?’
It was good to hear the Australian drawl on the other end of the line, he’d been away far too long.

‘Can you connect me to the Minister for Transport please love?’

‘Code please.’

‘Um, Star Flight, just a sec.’ He fumbled in his pocket and found the note he had written. ‘Simple.’

‘I’ll transfer you.’ He thanked her and immediately felt foolish when he remembered it had been a machine.

The phone was answered by the Minister’s secretary
and Graham waited for over a minute, which seemed like five. ‘I’ve been expecting your call. I’ve arranged for you to set up your base here. How many planes will you be bringing in?’ The Minister said.

Amazing
,
thought Graham
,
they can cut through any red tape when they want t
o
. ‘Two 777s, sir.  My fast 797 is here now with another on the way, but they can’t land on regional runways. I’ve filled in my manager here and she’s sourcing some Vetos right now, not sure how many at this stage. Can I let you know later?’

‘Sure. Dave’s a good friend of mine, I gather you’ll be working closely with him?’ He didn’t wait for Graham’s answer. ‘Looks like we’re going to have a problem with air-traffic control. I’ve instructed all controllers Australia-wide to report in, all leave’s been cancelled. There’s a helluva fuss. We’ve had to tell them what’s happening so we can get better co-operation. They’re a nervous bunch at the best of times.’

Graham thanked him and hung up then called Jim in Hawaii. The bank manager had been a hard nut to crack, but he had dealt with Graham for many years and trusted his business acumen. He knew Graham had a solid valuable business, so had agreed to give him a large overdraft to cover the purchase of Vetos in America.

‘I don’t know how you did it buddy.’ Jim drawled. ‘I’ve been writing out some huge cheques.  Words out we’re buying, and every broker on the island’s approached me, as well as the mainland.  We’ve got some great deals.’

‘Great. Get out of there when you can okay? Have you organised the planes to get back here?’

‘Yeah, boy that raised some questions, but I handled it.’

‘Good. Schedule them direct into Canberra, I’ve got special clearance. When this’s over money won’t be worth a damn and there’s going to be a huge shortage of food. So I’d appreciate it if you could fill them with non-perishable food. Nick doesn’t know how long we’ll have to hold out and I don’t want to be dependant on the army for supplies.

How’s the evacuation going there?’ Graham added.

‘Just as you ordered. Everything’s under way. I’m sorry you’re not coming back.’

‘So am I, but this is where I should be. You probably won’t hear from me for a while but don’t worry, just look after yourself. Get your family and our friends to safety. I’ll be in touch when I can.  Be careful.’

‘Yeah, you too. Graham?’

‘Yes.’

‘God bless.’

‘God bless Jim.’

Graham suddenly realised it had been years since he had flown a Veto. He called the local Aero club and booked a Veto for the afternoon.
 
Like riding a bicycle he thought, never forget, just a little rusty
.
Under the circumstances he didn’t think airtime would be a problem, no-one was going to be checking on him.  Still, he’d better call the Minister again and get a special licence issued. Meanwhile he needed to organise a jet to take Nick to Queensland.

Chapter Twenty-two

Sunday, June 4

Talks with Dave ended on a high note of expectation.
Dave dismissed Nick warmly, h
aving gleaned all the required information he needed. ‘Okay pal, we’re just about done here, you get your butt up to the Gold Coast. I’ll contact you there if I need any more info. I’ve got a pile of work to do. It’s been a real pleasure meeting you, I hope we meet up again soon.’

‘Feel free to call me anytime. I’ll help all I can.’ Said Nick.

Nick returned to his hotel and waited impatiently for Graham’s call. He could see no further reason to stay in Canberra and was eager to get on his way.

A nondescript man wearing a brown leather jacket over his jack-suit arrived at Nick’s hotel room at 6am the next morning and introduced himself as the pilot of the plane Graham had organised. He was a young man with a cocky attitude, but Nick took a liking to him as they travelled to the airport. Nick whistled as they approached the sleek Citation awaiting them on the tarmac.

This one reeked of money, ironically named Wave Rider.  She possessed sleek lines, with purple, teal, and navy stripes sweeping from tail to nose, beneath eight tinted windows that provided a view of a world few people experienced. Two big jet engines balanced either side beneath her wings, and she glowed with a pearlised white paint. Nick gasped as he entered the cabin and was confronted with eight seats of plush white leather facing each other either side of the aisle, making two groups of four seats with a table between. Display screens were not visible but Nick guessed they would pop open somewhere convenient.

Wave Rider leapt from the tarmac like a grasshopper springing after prey, so fast it took his breath away. After five minutes the co-pilot informed him they would be cruising at seven-hundred kilometres per hour and would arrive at Coolangatta on the Gold Coast in one hour. He wondered who the millionaire was that had parted company with this little beauty, and why.  He hoped he’d had a good reason, because he sure as hell was going to be sorry.

Flying at two thousand metres Nick was able to see the countryside below in great detail. They passed over a variety of landscapes; wide open spaces spotted with large flocks of wool-laden sheep and cattle, and the tall rugged mountains of the Great Dividing Range that he could see in detail. These vast mountains were mostly unexplored and densely covered by gum trees, their steep craggy sides repelling intrusion by most men. Over the years many experienced hikers who had tackled much more difficult terrain had become lost here.

Nick pondered the complexities people forced into this inhospitable place would face, as they tried to build shelters and find food. Man’s natural homing instinct would demand that they try to establish towns, schools and all the conveniences of modern living, but without the luxury of heavy machinery and fuel, it would be a mammoth task. This hostile environment with snakes and harsh temperatures that brought regular horrendous bush fires, would discourage even the stoutest soul.

It was a beautiful day with clear blue skies and calm sunny weather, and he thought of earlier trips home when he’d looked forward to seeing the long white beaches of the Gold Coast, a place widely known as Australia’s playground. It had been a world class tourist resort, but since the beaches had disappeared behind the now familiar dykes, the tourists had deserted it, yet to Nick it was home and he was eager to see it again.

Over the years high-rise buildings had sprung up on the Gold Coast beach-front like mushrooms in a field after rain; some almost overnight. Each offered increasingly luxurious apartments, the latest one dwarfing its predecessors. People had complained about the shadows over the beach in the afternoons, but Nick thought they were interesting; they looked like fingers pointing the way to the ocean.  It was a bustling, colourful, cosmopolitan town, housing people from all parts of the world that had come of age in the early 1980s, when the skyline bristled with dozens of cranes and the town prospered in an unprecedented building boom.

Japanese investment had been high, and as a result visitors from there outnumbered tourists from other countries. Theme parks such as Seaworld, a magnificent marine-park complex lying on the edge of the Broad-water, Dreamworld catering to different tastes and Warner Bros. Movieworld offered children, as well as adults excitement and wonderment. The clean white beaches with sand as fine as table salt, rolling surf, water sports on the Broad-water and many other attractions were abundant, enabling people from all backgrounds choices not found in many holiday destinations.

The collapse of the Asian economy in the early twenty twenties forced the Japanese to withdraw their investments, and the Asian tourists could no longer afford holidays abroad. Then the encroaching sea had signed the final death warrant to the seaside resort.