The Cadillac stopped beside Dead Man’s Pine. ‘More like Dead Man’s Stump,’ Tim said as he clambered out and wedged a scanner block in its gnarled bark. ‘Should we make a note of where we put these things so we can collect them later?’
‘No need,’ Albert said. ‘They’re designed to break down into their constituent atoms after a couple of days.’
‘Leave only footprints, eh?’ he said, getting back in the car.
‘And craters,’ Alkemy muttered.
They drove on, gradually descending towards Rata, passing through lush green countryside and rolling hills, pausing regularly so one of them could climb out and place a block.
The town of Rata consisted of a pub, a petrol station, a dozen shops — four of which looked like they’d been closed for a hundred years — and RAM and RAGS, which stood opposite each other on the main road, like guardians at the entrance to the town. Rata Area Merchants stocked farming supplies, tools, hardware and gardening needs, while Rata Area General Store carried groceries, fruit and vegetables, fresh bread, and doubled as the local post office.
Glad looked up from stacking shelves when the four of them trooped in. ‘Don’t tell me the Townsends have thrown you out already,’ she said to Norman.
He checked the rear aisle. The shop was empty. ‘We’re on a mission,’ he said, then explained what they were up to.
‘Sounds like a good plan,’ she said. ‘There’s plenty of places round here to hide your blocks. And you say these Sentinel things live underground?’
Albert nodded.
‘Rata’s an old mining town. This whole area’s littered with abandoned pits. But I hope you’re not going with them.’
‘Oh? Why not?’ he said.
‘Three kids wandering about won’t draw attention, especially on a holiday weekend. But you’re a stranger round here. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb.’
‘Actually, I was hoping to locate some raw materials.’
‘Raw materials?’
‘I need to build a receiver to track the signals from the scanner blocks. Norman said you may have some old computer equipment I could use.’
‘I’ve got a shed full. We’re the drop-off point for the annual recycling drive. C’mon through, I’ll show you.’
* * *
Coral and Ludokrus found Frank scratching his head and studying the clothes line that was now lying in the garden — with the washing still attached. The ride-on mower was jammed up on top of its support post.
‘What happened?’
‘Some damn fool ran into it,’ Frank said. ‘Can’t have been watching where he was going.’
Coral laughed. ‘Which damn fool would that be?’
‘Would you believe I swerved to avoid a begonia?’
‘I should breathalyse you. What’s the penalty for being drunk in charge of a mower?’
‘Fourteen years hard marriage, I think.’
‘I heard that Frank Townsend.’ Em appeared from the other side of the house, garden trowel in hand. ‘What have you done now?’
‘Ah, hello my sweet. I’m trying out my new invention: the horizontal clothes line.’
‘I’ll horizontal you! Alice has only just hung that out.’
‘Actually, Alkemy and I did that,’ Coral said.
‘Did you, dear? Well you and Alkemy can have first swing at him.’
‘Now now girls, no need to be like that. I just need to get the post out from under the mower.’
‘And how do you propose to do that?’
‘With the help of this strapping lad here.’ He clapped Ludokrus on the shoulder. ‘You lift the mower, I’ll do the rest.’
Ludokrus frowned. ‘Big mower. Look heavy.’
‘When I say “lift”, I don’t mean lift lift. Here.’ He picked up a length of four-by-two lying in the uncut grass and wedged one end under the side of the mower. Then he took a block of wood and placed it part-way along to act as a pivot.
‘Press down on this end, and up the mower goes. See? Easy. Now, if you just hold it there ...’
Ludokrus did so, supporting the mower’s weight while Frank unbolted the clothes line’s rotating top. It came loose, tilted over and fell into the freshly dug garden — along with the remainder of the washing.
‘Ah. I should probably have got one of you to hold on to that,’ Frank said.
Em glared. ‘Yes, you probably should.’
‘All right Ludokrus, now for the big lift. As high as you can.’
Ludokrus leaned on the end of the four-by-two and pushed it all the way down. The side of the mower rose smoothly, Frank grabbed the support pole — its base still fixed in a lump of cement — and dragged it to one side.
‘There’s your problem,’ he said to Em. ‘Dodgy concreting job.’
‘Hmm, I wonder who did that?’
Ludokrus lowered the mower, then raised it again one-handed.
‘Easy, eh?’ Frank said. ‘What was it that Archimedes joker said? “Give me a lever long enough, and a place on which to rest it, and I will move the world.”’
‘Archimedes?’ Coral said. ‘I didn’t know you’d had a classical education, Uncle Frank.’
‘What classical education? Bob Archimedes used to have the farm up the road. He was always saying stuff like that.’
‘Did he have any laundry tips?’ Em narrowed her eyes. ‘Because you’re going to need them once you’ve gathered up that washing.’
‘Hadn’t I better fix this first? After all, what good’s laundry without a place on which to hang it?’
Em said nothing, just stared at him, her hands on her hips.
‘No, no. Quite right, my sweet. Laundry first.’