Chapter 45

“Scientists don’t really know everything,” Sam said to a group of teenagers seated facing him. “For example, about 30 years ago, Hamacher in Melbourne wrote: ‘Lake Argyle in the far northeastern corner of Western Australia was formed when the Australian government dammed the Ord River in 1963. In 1986, Aboriginal artist Rover Thomas (ca. 1926– 1998) said that what is now Lake Argyle was the place where a star fell to Earth long ago. No meteorites or impact craters are registered from the area.’

“But while the last part is right, what Rover Thomas said was misunderstood.

“The ‘star’ wasn’t meant as a meteorite. The ‘star’ was a celestial power. It was a form of the serpent, whose burrowings made the path of the river. The river was dammed. But the serpent didn’t like it. And so dam is gone. There are pools here and the water flows.”

“What will happen at the coast?”

“It is not given to me to see. The isles of the Tiwi are gone. Several dozen have come here. Others live inland in the Territory. Darwin is gone. Middle Point, Point Stuart and Mount Bundey are islands in a swamp. Nearer to us, the Bonaparte Gulf has grown. Adolphus Island is no more. Wyndham is on the coast. I think we are safe. I have received no warning.”

“Thank you.”

“The world had many warnings. The powerful and greedy continued their ways. Now many of their investments are awash. Many millions have died. Some cities drowned, others starved, as food couldn’t be conveyed. Eastern China and much of southeast Asia were flooded. Half of India is underwater, as is much of South America. The Gulf of Mexico has flooded the middle of the US. There was flooding in Queensland and earthquakes in Victoria, NSW, the Territory and here. Many, many species are gone; others are depleted. It happened before and, I suppose, it will happen again.”

Jos overheard. “‘And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so. And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good.’ When God was unhappy, in the time of Noah, all was flooded; later Sodom and Gomorrah were consumed by fire. Man has been disobedient and unruly only too frequently, and seems to have learned little over the ages.”

“We hardly use any wood or gas,” Rob said.

“No. We’re over 90% solar. Your dad worked out the needed area. The panels are each two meters by one meter. And he just did his magic, using dosh.” Tessa had the data, but not the details.

“But what will happen?”

“In the long run, some will survive; many will not. Jos is right: despite teachings of several thousands of years, most people learned nothing. William Blake, in 1804, wrote about England’s ‘dark satanic mills’. Another poet, Wordsworth, wrote ‘The world is too much with us; late and soon, /Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—/Little we see in Nature that is ours;/We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!’ And that was over 200 years ago. There have been many warnings. The Powers have been patient.”

“Don’t be grim, dad,” Marge said. “This community is doing the right things. Sydney may be under water, but Iga Warta is fine.”

“True. And those are your remaining grandparents. I’ll call Henry later and find our about my sister.”

“Where are they?”

“Last year, Henry thought up a project in Marla, actually in Mintabie, where I spent some time before I met your mum. It’s APY land. So they’re well inland.”

“APY?”

“Aṉangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara, also known as APY, APY Lands or the Lands, is a large, sparsely-populated area that was given over to the mobs 50 years ago. The APY mined opal there long before the whitefellas came along. Henry’s looking at the traces of earlier settlements.”

“Is Rachel with them?” Tessa enquired.

“I hope so. She may be nearly 30, but she’s unattached and Henry’s an interpreter.”

“She might be sensitive. Your grandmother was around that when she was named. You had just been born.”

“Not quite ‘just’ – but certainly an infant.”

“We’ve never met Henry nor Aunt Sarah nor Rachel,” Marge remarked.

When Sam read the news on his tablet, he learned that the US government had “relocated” to Colorado and that the British Parliament had “temporarily” moved to Leeds. Clearly Washington was reverting to marshland and the Thames estuary was saltier than a few decades ago. Nothing astonishing, but dreadful nonetheless.

Lily walked up with her teen-aged daughter. “News?”

“Nothing here. But the oceans are reclaiming much of the land. Oh, many of the smallest Japanese islands are in trouble. The Ryukyus are gone; Omoto and Yonaha are all that remain of Okinawa.”

“I don’t care about Japan. I don’t even know whether my mother would.”

“We seem to be OK.”

Sam was wrong. The very next night he was visited. “There are men massing in Kununurra,” the voice said. “There are those who claim you have caused their problems. They plan to come and take your livestock and food.”

“That’s crazy!”

“No. It is what your people have done for many thousands of your years.”

“Should we fight them?”

“No. I will deter them. If necessary, I will ask the Python to assist me. But, in the morning, you must warn your people. Tell them to avoid the Highway and Lake Argyle Road in the evening.”

In the morning, the twins were flustered.

“There’s something wrong,” Rob said.

“It’s not like anything we know,” his sister added.

“I understand. I don’t know what it is, either. But there are some bad folks who are coming to attack us.”

“What should we do?”

“We should stay and behave and tell others here that the Wedge Tail and the Carpet Python will protect us. I have been told.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely. I was visited. Tell everyone to stay away from the Road and the Highway. You, too, Lily. Tell the women to stay away from the roads.”

Cockatoo Springs is a small MG community about 25 km. Southeast of Kununurra near the Victoria Highway. The Miriuwung Gajerrong call it the Ngunulum Community. As the waters waxed, so did the Springs. About a dozen utes and other vehicles roared past its turnoff at around 17:00 hours. A few klicks further, the caravan barely slowed as it turned right onto the old Lake Argyle Road, throwing up a great deal of dust. The lead car hooted and its noise was picked up by the next vehicle. Neither noticed a low rumble.

Then a stone bounded across the road. Then another, which struck the ute’s side. The driver slowed, as did the one behind, seeing the one (functioning) brake light come on. The rumble could now be heard. A rather large stone rolled onto the road, stopping a few meters in from on the leader, who came to a complete halt.