Chapter Ten

They spent the day on the beach, checking the car radio every hour and listening to the news. What they were waiting for came in the early evening as they sat in the cooling breeze eating sandwiches from a health food shop.

“James Konrad, head of Konrad Industries, who was on a surprise visit from the company’s American Headquarters, and several executives from the Cairns office, have been rescued from the jungles of Timor following mystery plane crash.

“One man died but several others miraculously survived. The party was brought back to Australia and all but Mr Konrad himself and local managing Director Jonathan Pike, were taken to hospital for treatment for various minor injuries.

“The two senior executives both escaped injury and Konrad said that there would be no postponing of the official opening of the Coral Sea pipeline - nor of the promised announcement of a secret new medical miracle. Now onto the sports news... “

Kylie switched off the radio.

“Something is very wrong,” said Zara. “Medical miracle? Darkon wouldn’t be helping the world unless it held a big reward for him.”

“I agree,” said Zoltan. “He’s given two reasons for being on the oil rig, and neither of them would fit into any possible projection of Darkon’s character.”

“Which means we must be there, on the rig, ready for anything,” said Zoltan. “But how do we find where it is?”

“I can help you there,” said Ben, with a wide grin. “I’ll go into the headquarters and hunt around until we find a map or something.

“There’s bound to be a something in the executive offices.”

“But won’t you get into trouble?” asked Zara, worried.

“Nah,” said Ben. “Not unless I get caught and that won’t happen. When you’ve been on the streets for a while, you get to know all the wrinkles...”

“Wrinkles?” asked Zara.

“Lines that appear in the epidermis,” computed Zoltan.

Kylie laughed.

“Not those wrinkles,” she said. “Come on let’s get back to town. The headquarters building will be close to empty by now, all the workers will have gone home.”

They piled into the car and drove back into the quickly developing night. They parked down a side street, away from the main flow of traffic, and walked around to the front of the building.

Through the glass doors they could see cleaners with vacuum back packs sweeping up the remnants of the day’s dust.

A security man sat behind a console of cameras, bored as he flicked his eyes from set to set.

“Here goes,” said Ben. “You stay here. Hopefully I won’t be long.”

Boldly the boy walked through the glass doors and up to the lifts.

He quickly scanned the personnel lists on the glass plaque on the wall. Pike. 23rd floor, he noted, just before the security man noticed him.

“Hey,” said the man, getting up from behind his desk and coming over to Ben, who was pressing the lift button. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“My Aunt asked me to come to Uncle Jon’s office to pick up something he needs. My uncle’s been in a plane crash you know.”

“Uncle? Oh you mean Mr Pike.”

“That’s right,” said Ben, “Uncle Jon. I have to go to his office on the penthouse floor and pick up some maps he needs for the pipeline opening day after tomorrow.”

The boy’s confident manner and his apparent intimate knowledge of the company’s managing director and his plans convinced the security guard everything was okay.

“Just be quick then,” he said. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you with the cameras.”

Ben smiled and entered the lift as the doors slid open. He pressed the number 23 and the lift shot silently and swiftly upwards.

On the 23rd floor, the penthouse suite, the doors opened and Ben stepped out onto the deeply carpeted landing.

Nonchalantly, knowing the cameras were on him, he strolled slowly, flashing looks at the doors as he approached them. He wanted to have plenty of time to move directly to Pike’s office when he saw it.

He spotted it in time and, without altering his pace walked up to it. He tried the knob; his palms had become sweaty, for if it was locked he was in giant trouble.

But it was open awaiting the visit of the night cleaners. Ben took a deep breath and entered the room. He looked round trying to find the map he needed and when he saw it and he almost laughed.

It was sitting on the desk where Pike had left it when Darkon had made a snap decision to fly to Indonesia. Ben recognised the outline of the Australian coast and the edges of the Great Barrier Reef. A close inspection showed the cross that indicated the position of the oil rigs.

Smiling, he folded up the map and then, with a cheerful wave at the pivoting security camera, he left the room and took the lift down to the ground floor.

He shouted his thanks to the security guard, who grunted and Ben walked free into the street. Once outside he increased his pace and ran to meet his friends.

They took the map to the car and studied it carefully. The coordinates were simple.

“The thing is,” said Zara. “What time shall we travel there? We don’t know exactly when Darkon and the official party will arrive on the rig.”

“Let’s go this time tomorrow.” said Ben. “Then we can find somewhere safe to hide and be on hand no matter what time Darkon arrives.”

A frown crossed Zoltan’s face. “Er... I don’t think you and Kylie should be on this trip,” he said.

“Why not?” said Kylie pugnaciously. “We’ve helped you get this far. It’s only fair we be in at the end.”

“If it is the end,” said Zara.

“You have to let us come,” said Ben.

Zoltan weakened. “All right,” he said. “But if there is any real trouble, you must run to safety. We can’t afford for anything to happen to either of you which isn’t in your future.

“It might have devastating effects.”

Kylie laughed. “Us? Street kids like us disappear all the time, and nobody ever even notices, why should we make a difference to any future world?”

“I don’t know,” said Zara. “But we can’t risk it. If we let you come with us, you must not put yourselves in danger.”

“What about you three?” asked Ben. “What if you are in danger of being killed or something, won’t that affect the future?”

“Yes, but it’s our future,” said Zara.

“It beats me,” said a puzzled Ben.

“We don’t understand it ourselves properly,” admitted Zoltan. “Time and space are such puzzles, even in our time.”

“Okay,” said Ben. “We’ll promise to keep out of trouble as far as we can, okay?”

Zara smiled. “Okay,” she said. “We have the coordinates, but there’s no knowing where they’ll take us. The oil rigs I take it are rather large?”

“Huge,” said Kylie. “We read about them at school.”

“Which means there must be lots of people,” muttered Zara.

“Not really,” said Kylie. “They’re mainly run by automation. There’s just a maintenance crew and the oil riggers on board, no more than twenty or thirty people usually. There’s sure to be plenty of room to hide.”

“So we have to take a risk,” said Zara, ever cautious. “Let’s hope we materialise somewhere away from the crew.”

The coordinates took them to a storeroom, hot and sticky under the steel deck. The door was locked from the outside and even Zoltan’s thred-driver couldn’t release them.

So, with a minor adjustment to the Time Trekker, they materialised on the other side of the door to find themselves in a dark and metallic smelling corridor.

As their eyes adjusted they spotted a tiny beam of light along the passageway. Slowly they made their way to it and discovered it came from a hatchway at the top of a steel ladder.

The hatchway led to another corridor, air conditioned this time and decorated with wood panels.

“These must be living quarters,” whispered Kylie, “So we should be close to the open deck, come on.”

She led the way warily along the deserted corridor until they came to a steel door at the end. Holding her breath, she turned the handle and pushed. There was a rush of warm air.

“It’s the deck,” she said, stepping through.

The steel deck of the giant oil rig seemed to stretch for eons in the moonlight. They felt the hum of machinery beneath their feet. The moon was at its full and cast eerie shadows around them as the five youngsters looked for a safe place to hide.

The rig deck was completely deserted.

“Where is everybody?” whispered Zoltan.

“I told you these things are fully automated,” said Kylie. “Any crew will be below decks now, resting until tomorrow morning. They’ll have plenty to do then.

“There’ll be a big party here tomorrow, with press and television cameras.”

“Then I expect there’ll be some specific area set out for the celebrations,” said Zara.

“I’d reckon,” said Ben. “Let’s have a scout round.”

Silently they crept round the deck until they came across a raised wooden platform that had a microphone at the front and several chairs placed in a neat row. Bunting hung limply from ropes strung around the steel beams that surrounded the area.

There was a large switch, painted in gold that was attached to a small grid on a metal beam.

“That will be the switch that turns on the electric pump to get the oil field into production I expect,” said Ben.

Zoltan examined it carefully.

“He’s right,” he said. “It’s a simple current linker, but effective.”

“So this is where Darkon will be in a few hours time,” said Zoltan, shivering, despite the warmth of the night.

“We need somewhere out of sight and yet be close enough for us to surprise him,” said Zoltan.

They hunted round the area and found empty cartons piled up in a heap, the cartons from which the food and drinks had been unloaded ready for the party that would follow the turning on of the oil pump.

They made a hollow inside the cartons and hid, safe from view - unless someone decided to throw the cartons over the side into the sea!

Then, yawning they settled down to wait.