He stood in an expensive white terry towelling robe that he wore with panache. A person on first meeting Graham could judge him to be of Italian origin.
‘G’day mate.’ Graham roared hugging Nick to his ample chest, slapping his back. ‘You finally made it. A bit mysterious aren’t we? Jerry thinks I’ve gone whacko calling there all day. He said if we don’t get over there for a meal he’ll charge me secretarial fees. What’s going on?’
‘Jerry’s right you are whacko, and his suggestion sounds like a good idea. I’m starving. I seem to be missing too many meals lately, I couldn’t eat a thing on the plane. We’ll head over there after I fill you in. That’s if you’ll still feel like eating after what I’ve got to tell you!’
The hotel room was typical of an airport stopover. It lacked the refinement the one Nick had stayed in on arriving at Washington, but it was comfortable. Graham fixed some drinks presenting Nick with his favourite as he relayed the whole nightmare. Unlike all the others, Graham listened without interruption. He had very few questions, but Nick was sure his grey hair turned a shade lighter, or was it just that his face had drained of colour?
Graham was a handsome man, not the rugged outdoors type like Nick, more refined. In his early forties with fine chiselled features that angled down to a firm square chin and of medium height with wide shoulders. Prematurely grey-streaked hair added to his debonair appearance. The most striking thing about him was his deep throaty voice, always giving the impression he was just throwing off a bad cold. It was only on rare occasions the big smile he brandished constantly left his face, and this was one of them.
‘If I didn’t know you so well Nick I’d think you were pulling my leg, but you’re not are you?’ He rumbled quietly.
‘No! Wish I was. I’ve lived with this nightmare for weeks and it’s getting to me. I can’t sleep and I hardly notice what I’m eating anymore. Everyone’s got questions. They all want to save the world, which I s’pose is the natural reaction, but they’re paranoid about panic. I know people are going to panic. It’s natural. How on God’s earth do they think they can stop it leaking out? They’ve arrested Laura, for Christ’s sake!’
‘Jesus! Who has?’
‘The bloody CIA.’
‘No wonder you’ve been acting weird. How can she be a threat, she’s one of them?’
‘She’s a crusader mate, she’d never stand still for any underhanded tactics. When they found out that she knew, they snatched her. She’s probably locked up in some dungeon right now. Josh Harrington owes me. If anyone can find her he will.’
‘Okay, what’s the plan?’
‘They’re going to stop all international flights just before the press conference. I’ve got to get back to Australia pronto.’
‘You and me too. Mum will be worried sick when she hears the news. It’s safe in Canberra but she’ll panic knowing I’m in LA. Just as well I decided to take the flight here yesterday.’ Graham picked up his sat-phone. ‘We can take my scheduled flight tomorrow to Hawaii, and overnight. I need to fill in my manager.’
‘You can’t tell him yet.’
‘I can’t not tell him Nick, he’s a mate. I trust him. I’ve got a flight scheduled Friday for Sydney, then on to Canberra. It’s one of my usual routes, so there won’t be any questions.’
‘Is there any chance we can see the Prime Minister?’
‘Providing he’s in the country. Shouldn’t be too hard, I’ve got some contacts. What d’you want to seehim for?’
‘Oh, he’ll be in the country all right. He was advised at the World Government video conference. I think he’ll want all the information he can get.’
‘What d’your think he’ll do?’
Nick stared into his drink and swished it before downing it. ‘Same as the Yanks I think, he’s probably started evacuation plans already. Australia will be right in it’s path. I can make sure they understand the urgency, my gut tells me it’s going to happen soon.’
They walked to the nearest Trancab station and gave instructions for their destination.
Nick climbed into the back seat of the dual cab. To lighten the mood he chatted frivolously. ‘I thought these things wouldn’t catch on, but they’re all I see everywhere I go.’
‘They weren’t that popular until the Government banned cars from all major city streets. People had no choice but to accept them.’
‘I’d like to be the bloke who designed them, must be worth a squillion quid.’
They chatted this way for five minutes until Graham began asking questions. Nick threw back his head and clenched his fists.How many times am I going to have to go through this interrogation?He thought, longing for the Platypus and the simple pleasure of ending an eventful day with Jeremy and Sam.
Graham recognised his friend’s displeasure and fell silent for the remainder of the journey. Both men were relieved when they spotted the familiar red-and-white striped canvas awning dipping over the sturdy wrought iron tables and chairs of Jerry’s cafe. Graham announced his charge card number to the Trancab and they selected a table that once offered a first class view of the activities of Venice Beach. Nick frowned at the three-and-a-half metre concrete rampart separating them from the sea, and remembered twenty years ago, when from this vantage point one could see the blue Pacific Ocean and people lazily sun-baking on the wide white sandy beach. Graffiti scrawls and designs spread colourful scenes the entire length of the wall and one could see where additional layers of concrete had been added to the top to keep pace with the rising sea. Occasionally sea spray drifted over the wall reminding him of the danger on the other side.
A cold shiver engulfed him as he envisaged the towering waves that would consume that wall like it was made of biscuit wafer. His attention was diverted by the bizarre people darting back and forth. A tall Negro busker rumbled by on top of the two metres wide wall on roller skates strumming out a raucous tune from the guitar strapped over his shoulder. He was dressed in a bright green satin shirt with layers of several waistcoats flapping wildly in the breeze. An equally bright purple turban swathed his head making him look like something out of the Arabian nights. ‘Some things never change.’ Nick said, watching the busker.
Jerry was pleased to see them, fussing with his usual conscientiousness, and was alarmed when they picked at their favourite meals. The food was excellent as usual and he had served them himself. Instead of lingering over his excellent coffee they rose to depart soon after eating, which was not normal. He presented them with their bill and slapped his forehead. His head jerked from one to the other when they each hugged him sadly, and left without their usual promise to return. He stood wiping his hands on his bright red apron and watched them leave. They both knew this was just the beginning. They also knew it would take all their strength to say good-bye to their friends without a word of warning.
‘Can’t figure why the World Government wanted six days before telling the people?’ Graham grumbled.