Chapter 4

After chops, salad and chips, Rachel and Patrick performed their playlet. Rachel narrated. She explained that she was the dry wind and that nothing grew when it was too dry. Patrick was the wet wind and his rain made everything grow. They bowed and we applauded.

"You're right," Chaz said when they went off for some milk.

"About what?"

"The stories. The myth and the play are about women being barren until the fertilizing water comes, delivered by the men."

"Yes. That had to be explained. That's what all the tales are for."

The next morning I was showing a group of teens my moths. One of the girls was fascinated by several — an arctid female I'd collected north of Cairns and an attacus wardi from around Darwin. I also had an arctid caterpillar, a rarity in my collection.

"They're beautiful!"

"Yes, many are. Some are drab, but Australia is rich in moth species." I showed her — and the rest of the group — my copy of Zborowski and Edwards. "It was published a few years ago by the CSIRO. It's an expensive item, but perhaps your library could get a copy."

"May I look at it?"

"Yes, but be careful. My wife gets after me if I spend too much on books." I got a laugh and went back to talking about the moths.

"I used to think moths were just destructive ugly butterflies," the girl said, turning the pages.

"They're much more. A lot of moth larvae are destructive, but a South American moth, Cactoblastis cactorum, was introduced into Australia to control a cactus that was ruining the range land of cattle. And keep in mind the benefits of silk, which is made from the silk fiber of moth cocoons."

I went on a bit. I noticed the girl was writing down the author/title information of the book before she returned it with thanks. I packed up my specimens, herded my group to lunch and left. I drove to the Uni thinking about the future. I picked up a sandwich from the wagon on my way into the building.

"Hey, anything new?" I asked Mona.

"Nothing important. I put the materials for the quarterly on your desk. There were only a few messages. No calls from Canberra."

"Right. Let me put this down. I'll be back."

I went into my office, then back and got myself some coffee, sat down and munched my sandwich. It was already afternoon in the ACT. Oh, well. What was it Doris Day sang in that Hitchcock movie? Right! "Que sera sera... " No point in fretting now. I picked up the top folder. Then the next, and the next. The phone buzzed.

"It's Mr. Scott, Gordy."

"Hey, Rob."

"Hey, Gordy. I see you're getting yourself into trouble."

"Ah, you got the copies. Do you really think so?"

"I doubt it ... but you've most likely mystified the dolts in Canberra."

"I'm mystified, too. Why this letter? Why so abrupt?"

"You had no call?"

"Nothing."

"Stranger. May I call the government liaison for Rio Tinto? I've met him several times. He seems sensible."

"Why not? You can't get me into yet more trouble."

"Everything else okay? Weena? Patrick? Sarah?"

"Just fine. And my guess is that both of you are okay, as well."

"Yes. Now let me try some gossip research."

I finished the reports from the Territory. The work on the ants in Darwin, the arid agriculture and the solar power projects all appeared to be going well. Darwin still had an open slot, but The Alice was staffed up.

Mona reminded me about the dentist and that I was meeting with Chaz about the appointments. I told her that I'd be in first, then go to the dentist. She nodded and said she'd be leaving soon. I looked at my watch to discover it was 16.30. I'd been reading reports for quite a while.