The Disestablishment of Paradise (42 page)

By the time Hera emerged, hair taped back, face clean and wearing fresh overalls, the trench was complete and Mack had cleared a crater around the heel of the crest. The crest had not moved.
‘Bring your drawing book up,’ called Mack. ‘You’ll want to get a sketch of this for your grandchildren.’

‘You serious?’

‘Sure. I’ll be doing the next bit.’

Hera fetched her sketchbook and clambered up onto the high point of the Dendron’s back. From there she could see deep into the Dendron. Revealed was a wide flat ball-and-socket joint where
the crest could swivel. Thick straps of creamy wishbone joined the crest to the joint and then disappeared down into the Dendron.

‘These here,’ said Mack, tapping the exposed straps of fibre, ‘control the crest. I reckon there’s one for each of the blades – that’s about 240. That
explains what that Mayday woman meant when she said it “chops and cuts”. I remember you saying that. It’s a good description. Makes maximum use of the effort. It means that the
blades can be made to move either together like an axe blade or separately like a saw. They come down in a chop, and when that stops, they rip. Very bloody ingenious.’ He rested the blade of
the saw on one of the wide straps of creamy fibre. ‘These attach directly to the stool. They’ve got to, as it is the only solid thing in the vicinity. These straps of wishbone are what
give the whole crest its stability – whether it’s resting up or going into battle. I reckon that hump there where you’re perched is one of the main anchor points in the
Dendron’s body. It takes the shock of the chop and distributes it through the rest of its body, and the weight of the stool gives the chop its drive. Perfect. If I had one of these in the
team I could get rid of Dickinson. Now, the Dendron you told me about chopped straight into all this stuff – rip, shit and bust. That right?’

Hera nodded.

‘Well, we’re not going to do that because of the danger of damaging the Dendron before we can liberate the two trunks up front. We don’t want to create bad feedback. Could ruin
everything. You remember?’ Hera nodded again. ‘So what I’m now going to do is cut through the main straps, then sever the crest.’ He picked up a small blade and plugged it
into the power pack on his belt. ‘This little brute can cut through steel,’ he said, brandishing the saw. ‘Let’s see what it makes of the wishbone.’

Hera realized that what she had just heard was one of Mack’s briefings. He probably did this before every job. She began sketching quickly, trying to capture the poise of the joint and the
way it attached to the crest, and the neatly plaited fibres. She would have loved, just once, to see it open now, and watch the wishbone straps tighten and feel the pulse of its huge strength as it
took the strain right underneath where she was sitting. She could imagine the great heave and flow – and the heat too. There would be a lot of heat generated. That would be an obvious reason
for steeping, simply to keep cool. A body like this with a thatch on top could overheat quickly. She thought back to the desert. The Dendron’s achievement in trekking across the desert was
ever more impressive.

Mack was ready. He raised the blade. ‘Let’s see if this’ll talk to it.’ He studied the joint. ‘I’m going to cut this big strap first. You keep back on the
hump there, Doc. There might be a recoil.’ He got down on his knees in the ooze, worked his body under the tines of the crest and braced himself.

‘Mack, there’s no danger the crest can come down and pin you, is there?’

‘No. I wouldn’t be lying here if it could. If anything, it might rise a bit as the tension comes off here. You be on the lookout.’ He braced himself again and held the saw
blade just above the pale strap of wishbone. He clenched his teeth with the effort and the saw began to spin. His first cut was shallow, a mere etching of the surface, and he looked to see if there
was any change. He saw some of the cut fibres, like fine hairs, open and peel back under tension. ‘It’s definitely going to lift. You keep well back.’ He made a second shallow
cut, following the guide of the first, and saw more fibres peel back. ‘You’ll feel the strap under you contracting. It’s lifting the crest a fraction.’ He made another cut,
a deeper one this time, and saw the wishbone begin to stretch and open. Dark green fluid with the consistency of engine oil seeped from the cut wishbone. He saw the fibres sever, and heard them
snap like the breaking of violin strings. The tension on them had been greater than he imagined. For a moment he wondered whether the Dendron might, in some way, be trying to help. That was
logical, wasn’t it? It wanted to split. Logically, if he was doing what it wanted, then he could in some strange way be giving it pleasure, and it would cooperate – or was he just being
daft?

The last fibres parted suddenly with a snap, the cut ends contracting and twisting like burned plastic. The crest lurched and lifted. It was for a moment eccentric, seeking a new point of
balance. In lifting, one of the black tines slid over Mack’s shoulder. He felt it catch and snag in the saw harness. It began to lift him. Mack was not a light man, but his weight meant
nothing in this contest, and he felt himself dragged to his knees, and then hoisted higher until he hung suspended with his feet several inches above the soft mushy surface. He could not reach
round to release himself because he could not get purchase. He was bent over, like a schoolboy of the past, awaiting the cane.

Hera felt the change in tension through the thick pelt of the Dendron. The hump on which she was sitting lifted slightly and there was movement under her feet like a wave passing. Then
everything settled down. But what was Mack trying to do?

She stood up and made her way down the trench they had cut. Finally she could see where Mack was hooked on the crest, harness stretched tight between his legs. Hera worked her way round the
ball-and-socket pivot point. She could see that Mack’s face was red with the effort – and perhaps more than the effort. ‘Are we comfortable, sir?’

‘Just unhook me, and none of the wisecracks, OK? And careful you don’t jiggle the thing. I don’t want to join the altos.’

‘No, sir.’ However, releasing him was not that easy, for Mack was a heavy man. Eventually she had to cut through the harness and he dropped down onto his toes and then his knees in
the ooze.

He stood up and adjusted himself with obvious relief. ‘All right, you’ve had your little laugh. Now come and look at the other side. I’m going to cut that strap too. What
surprises me is that even this wishbone fibre has fluid in it. Everything is managed by fluid – tension and release, tension and release. I’m starting to get the hang of how this
Dendron mo— Stop bloody laughing, will you? I’m serious.’

The next cut went smoothly. The dark green ‘oil’ bubbled out and Hera collected a sample. The strap, when severed, rolled up like a wood shaving. The crest dropped back down sharply
and tipped to one side. It could no longer be lifted by man or Dendron.

‘That’s that finished,’ said Mack. ‘Now. Look at this wishbone stuff. It’s got amazing tensile strength. You couldn’t pull it apart in a month of Sundays. You
have to cut it. Was an analysis ever done on what it is?’

‘MINADEC did a whole lot of analyses. Tania knows the details. The problem is, once a Dendron is dead the original wishbone becomes brittle pretty quickly. They used to grind it up and
drink it.’

‘You pulling my leg?’

‘No. There used to be a big trade. Men found the need of it, apparently. Helped their virility. You might’ve have needed some too, if I hadn’t cut you down in time.’

‘You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?’

‘I’ll think about it. But Dickinson probably got it recorded anyway.’

Mack groaned.

During their lunch break Hera checked with Tania Kowalski and Dickinson to see how the recording was going.

‘Fine. Fine,’ said Tania.

Hera detected evasion. ‘So what’s the problem, Tania?’ She looked closely. ‘Are you wearing make-up?’ She glanced across at Dickinson. ‘And you’ve got a
brushed-up casual look about you, Mr Dickinson. You’re very cosy, the pair of you. What’s going on?’

‘I think you need to have a quick talk to the captain,’ said Tania hurriedly. ‘Things are a bit more advanced than the last time we talked. She was here just a minute ago. Hey,
did you see where the captain went, Dickhead?’

‘No, I didn’t, Titania,’ replied Dickinson.

‘You two er . . . getting on all right?’ asked Hera.

‘Yeah, great,’ said Tania, ‘as soon as we got a few basics sorted. That right, Dickhead?’

‘Well to be honest,’ said Dickinson judiciously, ‘she didn’t go down too well at first. But with a bit more practice and a mouth as big as that, she should
impr—’

‘
Dickinson!
’ It was both women speaking.

Captain Abhuradin was located. Hera was relieved to find her transformed. A crisp clean uniform. Hair brushed and shaped. Even the bandage on her face was stylish and her poise was back. But she
was a worried woman. ‘Hera, I don’t know how you are going to take this, but there was nothing I could do. Sorry.’

‘About what? Why is everyone talking in riddles?’

‘So they didn’t tell you?’

‘Tell me what?’

The captain took a deep breath. ‘Word got out about the Dendron. A news team came through the fractal about half an hour after I had spoken to you last night. I didn’t know they were
here. They’d come to interview some of the children, but then they—’

‘Get to the point, Inez.’

‘Well they heard from somewhere – probably that cheeky little communications clerk from Central – that you were down there – you know what gossip is like on the platform
– and they heard that a Dendron had been found – people remember the Dendron, you know . . .’

‘Yes, and . . .’

‘Somehow they found out you were doing a live broadcast. And one of them contacted the chief press secretary at the Space Council and he spoke to Tim Isherwood and got permission for the
Time and Space Network to take live coverage. Official.’

‘So what’s this mean?’

‘It means that what you are doing down there is now being broadcast to any station that wants to take it.’

‘
What? WHAT!
’

‘Apparently there has been a high pick-up rate. So . . .’

‘This is wrong, Inez. We’re not running a circus.’

‘I know. I know. I wanted to get a message to you. If it’s any consolation, your two people here, Dr Titania Kowalski and Professor Kenneth de Kingson, are doing a brilliant job.
People can’t take their eyes off the programme, Hera. She’s explaining the biology and history and he seems to be able to explain everything else. They’re brilliant together
– and so entertaining. The banter . . . They must be good friends, yes?’

‘They rub along. Look, are you telling me that everything we’re doing down here is being broadcast via the fractal to whoever in the explored zones cares to tune in?’

‘Not the audio line. But everything else is seen in tri-vid. Kowalski and de Kingson interpret the action for the viewer. It is very documentary. Very science-based. Kowalski’s good,
isn’t she? I see what you mean about her.’

‘It’s a bloody outrage. When I get my hands on them . . .’

‘No, Hera, they’re doing a good job. Very professional. None of this is their fault. Media rules, Hera. You know that.’

‘It’s still a bloody outrage.’

‘Well, there’s something else you ought to know. Evidently the level of support for what you are doing is breaking all viewing records. The dial-in channels are overloaded with
callers. That time when you went over the side with the chainsaw. Well, my heart was in my mouth. I never realized how big the Dendron are! You’re a brave lady, Hera. What’s more,
people want to know why ORBE was closed down when there was such an important endangered species on the planet. It’s all media hype, I know, Hera, but at least it’s on the right side.
You are not going to be on Timothy Isherwood’s Christmas card list.’

‘Just as well.’

‘Hera, I’m sorry about this. But I can’t talk now. There’s a lot to tell you. Later. When you are back up here. I have to go. I’m being interviewed on the arrival
of the children in a few minutes. I’m nervous as hell. Good luck. I’m handing you back to Kowalski and Kingson.’

The line, as they used to say, went dead. And then came alive again.

Hera found herself looking at Tania and Dickinson.

Dickinson spoke first. ‘Before you say anything, Miss Melhuish, just be glad that we’re here. When the story broke that we were in live contact with you, Time and Space wanted to
take the lot over – get their own techies in and some blue-eyed ponce who does popular science programmes. We stopped that. Well Titania did, actually. Very impressive demolition job. Are all
you ORBE women like this? No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.’

Tania cut in: ‘As soon as we realized what was happening, Dickinson installed a ten-minute delay so nothing gets out without our knowledge.’

‘So what is happening now, at this moment?’

Dickinson consulted a side monitor. ‘Just now they’re running background documentaries.
Early Days on Paradise
.’

‘They’ve contacted Rita Honeyball and Moritz to talk about the plum. But the moment you start again, we’ll be covering,’ said Tania.

‘And, what is more, people find us entertaining and informative. Is that not right, Dr Kowalski?’

Tania did not look at him but spoke directly to Hera. ‘I know Dickinson behaves like a prat, Hera. But as prats go he’s not bad and, give him his due, he knows the electronics. And
just for the record, he came up with these fancy names while I was laying into their news director. By the time they’d wiped him up off the floor, people were calling me Dr Titania and him
Professor Kenneth, for fuck’s sake! Anyway, Hera, we can pull the programme if you say so, or you can just turn it off at your end. It’s as simple as that. Of course, we would lose the
data – and I’m measuring everything.’

‘Unfair. Tania, you—’

Dickinson interrupted: ‘I want to add something, Doc. It is over to you as to whether you tell Mack. But listen up. As long as he thinks it’s just me arsing about, he’ll be
happy. But I tell you this: if he discovers the tri-vid is going out to the great unwashed, he’ll tear the bloody cables out of the wall and I suggest you start running right now cos he
won’t be taking prisoners. Your call, Miss Melhuish. And I don’t envy you one little bit.’