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Hi I'm Scomber.
I'm a musician, a singer/songwriter/producer/author/
environmentalist/father based in Sydney Australia.

I believe that the best things in life are free and should not be
owned and controlled by some faceless corporation or
shadowy publishing/record company.
The creative process and its results should be democratic and
accessible too all...
Thats when I discovered the creative commons community.

No, I'm not a communist, not even that much of a lefty, but I've
figured out that restrictive copyright practices with its inherent
exclusions limits the growth of many creative pursuits.
Admiral Bob, one of the finest exponents of this culture puts it
like this; “artists can and should contribute content to culture
that is unhampered by the kind of restrictions that treat art like
an imprisoned thing: don’t alter it, don’t move it onto a
different device, don’t copy it, don’t even listen to it unless you
re-license it”.
The net result, I believe is a bland sameness that seems to
permeate most popular culture.
Profitability generally doesn't equate to quality.
Quality doesn't always lead to commercial success.
This work is probably an example of both!
I'm not against commercial reward for art, its entirely necessary
but I'd much rather give something away for nothing. Thats just
me.
I'd like to invite you all to take a little time to read and listen to
this book and its music as I release each chapter every two
weeks.

Mirror Mirror is a self published serialized multimedia e book

combining fictional sci-fi fantasy with DRM free music.
Each chapter has its own original song written and produced
in collaboration with the talented artists on ccmixter.org. .
If you are unfamiliar with creative commons licensing, a good
place to start is the creative commons website.
I'm blogging on my Blogger page and the updated ebook is
published on Scribd. All music and its attributions for can be
found on my home page on ccmixter.org
Here , I'll be uploading the stems and raw vocal tracks and
encouraging anyone out there to remix, cut up or mash this
original content to your hearts content.

So here's the first two chapters of “Mirror Mirror” and the first
two songs from the cc concept album of the same name.
 Song Title: Mirror Mirror
Genre: Dance/Pop
M usic: Spinmeister
Arrangement /Production/Remix : Scomber
Lyrics: Scomber
Vocals: Sassygal
Backing Chatter: Jacinda Espinosa
= Download

Chapter 1
Three seconds of chat

It didn't seem that much at first.

Corey Mason, second year geek at Arizona State University,
pored over a trail of computer printouts from one end of his
room to the other.
It had been three years since NASA lost the twin Mars
missions, and notably the university had lost a huge
opportunity to get their instruments into space before the
current window closed. It would be another six years until
Mars was in such an easy-to-get-to position.

Most people had moved on to the next mission, their budgets

cut by a third. Drawn out congressional inquiries into the
failure of the two missions found the ordinary things.
The rocket guys concluded that the onboard navigation system
had somehow set the thruster jets of the orbiter five percent
askew. When the probe tried its first aero braking pass of Mars
it hit the atmosphere at the wrong angle, where it probably took
a perilous fiery nose dive to the red planet, burning up. For a
successful braking, the orbiter needed to intercept the thin
atmosphere within 1 degree of its nominal entry angle. Too
shallow an entry angle will cause the probe to skip off the
atmosphere back into space like a pebble on a pond. Too steep
an entry angle would cause it to dive and burn up in the
atmosphere. At a velocity of 6.8 km per second, a temperature
of 1650 °C and peak G forces of 12 times Earth's gravity, the
margin for error is slim. The Americans blamed key European
components and one billion dollars was lost in space.

While this was all occurring, the other craft speeding towards
Mars, the one containing the lander was only 800,000
kilometres from insertion. As the lander approached the red
planet it served as a relay station, accepting the extra data and
bandwidth from the orbiter as its partner used the thin Martian
atmosphere to slow itself down.

The plan was once the lander reached Mars and was ready to
land near the north pole, the roles would reverse. The Orbiter,
safely in orbit, would receive high bandwidth data from the
lander and then transmit it back to Earth.
The first craft, the orbiter, stopped transmitting 15 seconds
after the thrusters were first fired, 480 km above the Martian
surface. It got worse.

Twelve and half hours later the second craft, the lander, in the
words of the chief NASA Engineer, “just disappeared from the
screen”. Silence. Complete loss of contact. Not even the hum
from its ion propulsion system could be detected by any of the
large earth-based radio telescopes.
It couldn’t have hit Mars after losing contact, with its last
course setting it past Mars and out beneath the ellipse below
the orbit of Jupiter in three years time. The Mars hoodoo had
struck again, and those little green men must have been
laughing at their neighbour's folly.

The printout that Corey had stretched before him was a jumble
of zeros dashes and crosses. Eight metres of paper represented
the last 15 seconds of the orbiter. But these were not the
transmissions received by the approaching lander in relay
mode. Although they were weak, they were definitely the first
hand transmissions directly from the orbiter.
Corey had already spent enough time looking for aliens by
staring at SETI data to know that it just didn’t look right. The
image/positional data matrix didn’t flow the way it should,
especially for a moving object.
Three small southern hemisphere radio telescopes had been
tracking the telemetry of the craft in the final stages of the
insertion for navigational purposes only but not collecting the
rich data. This was collected by the larger northern hemisphere
dishes that were better positioned for collecting a larger data
stream.
But a student in Australia, had collected the data inadvertently
while studying the magnetosphere of Mars. He had used the
extra listening bandwidth of his telescope not being used by the
Mars mission.
The relatively small sized dish at Siding Springs was rarely
pointed at something so close, so this was his opportunity to
test some of his ideas. The observatory was primarily an
optical one, known world wide for its large refractor telescope.
Because the dish was so precisely focused on the spacecraft
approaching Mars - any stray radio waves, like the two
spacecraft talking to each other, send a small echo across the
region rippled across other frequencies.
Accidentally, this was detected and recorded.
Corey had met Charlie Blake on the internet in a space nerd
chat room.
Corey was particularly interested in space forensics.
For every ten payloads launched into orbit he said, two
experience some sort of failure, and three literally blew up at
launch. That’s five angry and anxious investors each wanting
to know what happened to their 300 million dollars.
Corey needed a contact that could look at the heavens from the
southern hemisphere.
Charlie wasn’t your ordinary student. He was 56 or maybe 62,
full blooded Aboriginal and the type of person that didn’t say
much, but when they did, it was very timely and intuitive. He
started working at Siding Springs as a cleaner ten years ago.
Head astronomer Ray Phillips would often chat to Charlie and
was amazed with Charlie’s knowledge of the night sky and the
movement of the planets. Twelve months later Ray offered him
the position of onsite trainee with a four year external science
degree.
Ray had filled out his application and sent it off to the
department, putting his age down as 36. He got the position,
but even better, the ABC did a human interest story on him that
became a rare media nugget for the embattled Science Minister
of the time. Aboriginal done good.
Charlie was king of the kids. He could sit at the controls of two
radio telescopes and three optical telescopes. No more
scrubbing toilets and floors.

Corey picked up the phone.

“Well I say its only 10.30 in the evening in Coonabarabran.” he
said as he dialed Siding Spring’s number.
Charlie was in the control room. Most of the regular staff were
off on their Christmas break and it was basically just Charlie
and Ray Phillips, ten years older and still hadn’t taken a
holiday.
Ray and Charlie were camping out, the desk strewn with pizza
boxes and beer cans, with all their optical telescopes pointed
towards Venus, which was just about to be eclipsed by the
moon.
An ordinary telephone ringing in the computer control room
seemed odd amongst the screens and control panels, but Ray
with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow picked up the phone.
He nodded a few times, grunted and turned to Charlie.
“It’s ET calling home”.
Charlie wheeled himself over on the government issued gas lift
chair.
“Hey Corey, my junkyard pal”, his voice silken and calm.
Corey wound into an excited mess of details, like a young child
telling a very big secret.
“Slow down Yankee. Start from the beginning.”
“Well, it’s like this.” Corey explained, calming himself down.
“The data you sent me on Mars Express was good enough for
me to reconstruct the full 128 bits from the Orbiter craft’s last
fifteen seconds.
But get this; about 3 seconds before the end of transmission,
the positional data is different to the final data relayed to earth
by the approaching lander. It’s as if someone had edited a tape,
cut out three seconds, and replaced it with a copy of the
previous three seconds.
But this will blow you away; the exact length of the “splice” is
3.12 seconds. That’s Pye dude. I know enough about the
processors on board both craft to know that this number just
can’t happen.”
Charlie took a breath considering his response.
“Are you sure it’s not just your decoding algorithm giving you
a false result on the data.”
“No way, because I lined it up with the other positional data
and I still kept on getting the same answer”. Corey stated
defensively.
Corey upped the tempo. “I’ll email you the full matrix .Why
don’t you take a look at it overnight and call me in the
morning.”
The hairs on the back of Charlie’s neck stood on end as Charlie
realized that he might be able to explain the repeat of 3.12
seconds. Last week he had helped install a new receiver on the
secondary radio dish and knew a bit about parabolas. He had
better think about it further before he jumped to conclusions,
“I’ll call you in the morning”.
He paused.
“You know I bet if went out into the bush I could find a grass
tree exactly 3.12 metres high. And wasn’t that Michael Jordan
fella 3.12 metres high?.
And if I dropped a penny from a twenty metres high it would
hit the ground 3.12 seconds….”
Corey interrupted.
“I get your point…. But please…just take a look at the pretty
pictures Charlie. Bye dude.”
Corey hung up the phone and walked over to his PC and
emailed the full file to Charlie.
Charlie wheeled himself back over towards the main console,
catching Ray’s gaze briefly and secretly hoping that he hadn’t
shown his excitement too much to his boss.
Charlie gestured and asked Ray.
“What you say we swing the gear around to Mars for a little
while before the guys get back on Monday.”
Ray laconically said “Are those Americans still looking for
Elvis? Don Crouchly reckons he saw him in that new deli in
town.”
Charlie had known Ray long enough to know a joke meant yes.
Ray lifted his eyebrows. “I’ll give you a full 14 hours.”
Charlie smiled, his white teeth glowing in the low light of the
control room.
 Song Title: Bitter Pill
Genre: Blues/Rock/Soul
M usic: Admiral Bob
Arrangement /Production/Remix : Scomber
Lyrics: Scomber
Vocals: Scomber
Backing Vocals: Sassygal
= Download

Chapter 2
A bitter pill

That day Corey was on a high. He packed away his printouts

and decided to head down to the Three Stags to sink a few
celebratory ales.
The bar was only a short walk across the campus grounds and
then a shortcut through the car park of a seedy motel that
rented rooms hourly to truckers and other passer-by’s.
He walked in about 8 o’clock to find the regular suspects
assuming their usual Thursday night positions. The carpet
reeked of stale beer and a small but committed crowd played
some pool sinking back some bourbon and beer. The jukebox
was playing a Hendrix tune that was weaving its way through
the thick smoke.
“Scuse me while I kiss the Sky”….
Corey nodded hello to a few regulars and approached the bar
for a drink.
The bar girl was slim and attractive.
“Well, Hi there Mr Starman.” She cooed, pouting and wiggling
her hips as she positioned herself in front of the beer taps.
All of Corey’s university buddies had tried to woo Lisa but
without success.
She had finished her freshman year still loyal to her Jimmie
who backed on to her folks’ farm in North Dakota.
“Set me up with a supernova and a black hole chaser, thanks
Lisa.”
Lisa leaned on the tap and pulled a beer the way only she knew
how.
“What’s the matter Corey, you look rather too cheery tonight.”
She said as she cracked open a new bottle of Jack Daniels.
He shook his head. “All I can say Lisa, is that I think I’ve
stumbled across the biggest cover-up since Watergate.”
“What, the stars not going to shine tonight hun?” she
questioned, mildly interested. “Stargate I think is already
taken.”
“If I told you about it I would have to kill you.” He said
continuing that old corny line.
She finished pouring the beer and leant over the bar, her eyes
large and doe like.
“Don’t worry, you can go ahead, I’m already in the bad books
with my folks and Jimmie for not coming home for Christmas.
There’s just too many assignments and there’s no way this
place was going to give me any time off. Besides my old man
reckons he won’t pay any tuition fees unless I change my
major to something that would help him back on the farm.
He reckons reciting Shakespearian sonnets to the hogs wouldn't
make them grow any faster.”
“Thanks Lisa”. Corey replied as he took his beer and bourbon
chaser over to one of the vacant booths near the pool tables.
He sat down and stared into his beer.
It just didn’t make sense. Surely if a second year student could
see something so obvious, so inconsistent, the official inquiries
would have too.
He trusted the source data that Charlie gave him from the Mars
orbiter in its final seconds. But why was the lander data so
unblemished?
Up to the point of the lander’s disappearance all
communication and relay systems were fully functional. All the
lander should do is to amplify the original orbiter data as it
approached insertion. If there was a cover-up why would you
forget about something so basic? But who would have a motive
to change the final data stream, assuming it could be done,
when there was so much riding on the success of the mission?
Then what had happened to the lander twelve and a half hours
later?
He sipped his beer and was ready for the chaser.
A couple of guys were playing pool at the adjacent table.
He turned around in the booth to grab a cigarette and was
astonished when he noticed that the large mirror wall behind
the booth reflected an image of the guys playing pool. Regular
stuff. Same thing but everything backwards. He remembered
what his forth grade science teacher had once told him about
mirrors. “Right is left, unless left is right. Oh, and tilt one way
away and be out of sight”.
Mr McDonaugh was a retired World War Two code breaker
turned school teacher. It took Corey twelve years to realize
what the old Scot really meant.
“Face a mirror and hold your right hand up and wave to
yourself.
You know you are waving with your right hand, even though
the person in the mirror is waving with their left.”
Mr McDonaugh would demonstrate this to all of his new
school students.
“Your brain since the age of about one understands mirrors;
You brush your hair, clean your teeth, do your make up and it’s
automatic.

“Now lets say in a mirror you see a person you have never met
approach you from behind, him too waving his hand.
Is he right handed or left handed?
What if he was flashing up a newspaper headline?”
Could you read it?
Corey gazed into his bourbon and pondered;
What if the distance to the mirror was vast, like Earth to Mars.
Even at the speed of light, it took a full 10 minutes for light or
a radio signal to reach Earth. What we see now happened 10
minutes ago.
The guy playing his shot on the pool table was now right
handed, playing from left to right down the table. But the
mirror showed a left handed player still playing left to right.
Corey looked up and noticed the booths opposite also had
mirror backing.
He then stood up and he could see the pool players’ reflection
in the other mirror but also the reflection of the mirror behind
him.
He asked Mr McDonaugh’s question again;
Right is left unless left is right.
It’s all about perception.
The 3.14 seconds had to be a reflection (at a distance) of
another 3.14 seconds.
He looked into and then sipped the rest of his beer and thought
that Charlie might be able to figure something out when he
spoke to him in the morning.

“Is this seat taken?”

Corey looked up and was startled to see a woman, probably in
her late twenties hiking up her tight short skirt to sit down in
the seat opposite in Corey’s booth.
“Hi I’m Miranda.” she said.
She definitely was too classy to be a local, Corey thought to
himself.
She had long black hair that framed a set of enormous almond
shaped eyes. And those legs, well they definitely weren’t from
these parts.
He found it difficult to avoid her ample cleavage as he looked
up wondering what to say next.
“I’m Corey". He stuttered. "Pleased to meet you Miranda.”
She reached forward and grabbed his hand at first like a
woman’s handshake but then with an urgency that Corey felt
up his spine.
“I’m so glad that I’ve found a friendly face at last. My car
broke down about twenty miles out of town and I had to endure
a trip into town with the scariest tow truck driver I’ve ever
seen.
“It sounds like you need a drink then Miranda.”
“Just ask your girlfriend for a slippery nipple.” She said
looking down towards her own breasts.
Corey could feel himself blushing as he stood up and headed
for the bar.
Behind the bar, Lisa was stacking the glass washer and turned
her eyes, brightening as she saw it was Corey.
“One of your best Slippery Nipples for the lady.” He said.
Lisa was shocked for a moment and then began to mouth
“You know I can’t drink at work Corey…”
Stopping herself short when she saw a rather long set of
woman’s legs swaying out of the booth. She hadn’t noticed
Miranda enter the bar.
“A vodka, bailey’s and pineapple coming up.” She said turning
towards the spirits, hoping that he hadn’t heard what she had
said.
“Who’s the babe, then Corey? Is your sister in town?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Corey replied shrugging his
shoulders.
“ ’says her name is Miranda and her car’s been towed here, I’m
just a shoulder to cry on.”
Lisa had finished making the drink.
“Would your lady friend like a cocktail umbrella Corey?” she
asked, her tone sarcastic.
“It beats me, but if you want to check her out, come over to the
booth and I’ll order a beer.” He said as he turned and tenderly
handled that slippery nipple towards the booth that Miranda sat
in.
She was even more beautiful than he could remember when he
left her last time to go to the bar.
Her skin was a warm golden colour and her hands strong, her
fingers long and slender.
”Now what do you do with your time these days sweetie” she
asked batting her eyelids,.
“Well I look at the sky a lot”. Corey replied, attempting to be
funny.
She smiled politely and gestured to her drink,
“Have you ever wanted to taste a slippery nipple like this one
before?
She asked, her lips ready, as if she was ready to say more.
Corey reached over and tasted the cocktail, swirling the taste of
pineapple and alcohol over his tongue to the delight of
Miranda.

That was the last thing Corey could remember that evening.
He woke up in his room to the sunlight and the chatter of the
local robins at his window. He was in bed and butt naked
except for his socks.
He sat up, head throbbing, his eyes taking a while to focus.
He was sure he hadn’t dreamed about Miranda and began to
look around for signs that she had been in his room. Nothing.
No bra, panties or hairclip, anywhere.
Except for a long black trench coat draped over the chair.
He sat up and lipped his arms into the warm folds. He couldn't
remember her wearing a coat of any kind let alone one so warm
and comfortable. It smelt of her, thats for sure. He reached into
an inside pocket and found a crisp piece of folded paper.
He unfolded it and read it;
Thank You for a wonderful night.
I wish my car broke down more often in this neighbourhood.
Thanks for all your help
Good luck with your Martian chasing
I’m sure to see you again soon.
Miranda xxx

“Some wonderful night when I can’t remember a thing.” He

said to himself as he checked his supply of condoms to gage
his possible success. He looked down to where he kept his files
and was alarmed to find the printout and the disks missing.
His panic was short lived when he realized that there would be
a copy on his PC and he had emailed Charlie a copy last night.
He tried to boot up his PC to find the entire operating system
gone. The hard drive had been wiped clean and all the previous
data was done.
But surely Charlie still had the original data and received
Corey’s email.

He wet his face with cold water, got dressed and set out for the
other side of campus to find Lisa. Maybe she knew what
happened last night.
He found Lisa in the library where she turned with a brief look
of contempt as their eyes met.
“So how’s it going loverboy?” she asked.
“You tell me. I can’t remember a thing.”
Corey beckoned Lisa to sit down in one of the vacant group
study rooms.

“I’m telling you Lisa, I can’t remember anything after tasting

her drink.”
Lisa paused. “Yeah, I saw you sip the drink as I brought your
beer over.”
“She didn’t even take another sip as far as I know, but handed
me back the cocktail, saying something bitchy like “this one is
taken”. About five minutes later she stood you up and headed
you hand in hand out the door without even a goodbye. I
thought you were such a rude bastard”.
Corey stood up and gave Lisa a quick peck on the cheek.
“Thanks Leese. I’ve got to go”.
By the time Corey was half way back to his room, the reality of
what had happened hit him.
The cocktail was spiked, she had taken him back to the room,
fucked him (hopefully) and then taken the data.
A hundred questions began to swirl around.
Who was she?
What had she put in his drink?
Why would she want the files?
How did she even know what Corey had discovered?
He unlocked the door and entered his room and sat down on
the bed.
He picked up Miranda’s note and read it again.
What does she mean by “thanks for your help”?
Corey assumed she meant the data matrix, it wasn't like he
towed her car.

He immediately thought of Charlie.

He picked up the phone and called Siding Springs.
Ray answered the phone.
“Hello Ray, its Corey. Is Charlie about?”
Ray swung back on his chair for a moment reaching to capture
the data that he and Charlie had spent most of the day
collecting.
“Sorry Corey, he’s gone walkabout for a couple of days. You
just missed him. Says he has to think something over.”
“What do you mean walkabout?” Corey sounded concerned.
“It’s an Aboriginal thing to do.” Ray explained. “It’s a bit like
you or me going on holidays to recharge the batteries. As far as
I know he’d be well and truly bush by now. Oh, but he did give
me a message to give you. He said thanks for the data and
there's an email I’ll send to you now. He wanted you to see his
latest Mars data and I'm just running the comparative for the
lazy bastard."
“And oh yeah, nearly forgot, he asked me to tell you to look
after yourself.”
in
Song Title: Climb upon the Breadknife
Genre: Acidpheric/Ballad/Rock
M usic: Scomber
Acoustic Guitar & M andolin : M irko M ichalzik
Additional Samples: Subliminal, onlymeith
Didgeridoo : Afrit
Arrangement /Production/Remix : Scomber
Lyrics: Scomber/BoHeart
Vocals: Scomber
Backing Vocals: BoHeart
= Download

Chapter 3
Drawn to the Bread Knife

Sidings Springs is situated 18km from the small town of

Coonabarabran indland New South Wales.
Fifteen million years ago the normally stable continent of
Australia floated over a hot spot in the Earth’s interior and
caused a cataclysmic event as the pressure penetrated the soft
crust. A shield volcano, 200 kilometres in diameter spewed
relentlessly for 400,000 years. The result was a chunk of Earth
lifted 800 hundred metres above the surrounding plain and
dotted with numerous dykes and fissures. These are long since
extinct, the softer ground around eroded away and today the
mountain range sits high and proud over the western plains of
New South Wales, a ragged scar on the grassy plains. The
Observatory stands elevated and clear, reaching into the dry air
off the desert plains stretching to the west.

This is Charlie’s land. Sacred land. The Warrumbungles. His

father and his fathers before him had carved their existence
amongst the basalt spires and winding rivers. Kangaroos and
emus by the thousand, the streams full of fish and tortoises.
Charlie remembered the stories that his grandfather had told
him as a child.
The aboriginal Australians saw themselves as part of the earth.
Land, body and spirit as one.
Everything around you had an explanation.
It was the Dreamtime, when the Earth was created, and the
rainbow serpent carved its way through the rocks to form the
valleys and rivers .
Time was a transient thing, held in suspension by dreaming and
the means with which a soul progressed along its journey,
eventually completing the circle to the place it began. Charlie
remembered how his grandfather would explain the stars.

“They are pebbles tossed across a flowing mantle. Like

flowing rivers, across the night sky, determining our fate and
our fortune.”

The Kamilaroi clan of Aborigines had belonged to the

Warrumbungles for close to forty thousand years. Now they
have scattered to the cities, lost to their homeland. Charlie felt
a dull ache in his heart as he realised he was one of the few
remaining with a daily connection to his homeland.

It was getting dark as Charlie climbed the steep track that

wound its way along the eastern edge of the canyon. The moon
hung low, ready to set, with just a thin crescent rimming one
side of the disk. Short and sharp thunderstorms carved narrow
paths through the canyon. In fading light, Charlie saw the last
golden outline of the rocky peaks and walls to the west. He
remembered coming out here with his father and grandfather.

The path they chose may have differed but there was only ever
one destination.
A one metre by 30 metre basalt spike towering above the thick
hakea bushes.
The breadknife.
They might walk up via the river and through the canyon or
over the high plateau but they would always reach the
breadnife.
It was a place to complete something of importance.
Tribal elders had once held court there, exacting punishment
and making peace with neighbouring tribes.
Charlie knew this country well.
As a child Charlie's extended family would often refer to him
as "Walooga", the single child. It wasn't until much later in life
that Charlie discovered that the name was really just meant for
him. Though the translation was difficult, not just in words but
in context, it basically equated to the western concept of
"prophet".
For years Charlie felt angry with his father for not fully
explaining how he was "Walooga" and what he was supposed
to do with this burden.
Was he supposed to have kept his people on the land? How
could you be a prophet if there is nobody left to enlighten?
Charlie also knew enough about history to know that prophets
generally appeared when there was a need for one and worse of
all, were generally dead and buried long before anyone realize
their significance. In the emptiness around him he wondered if
anyone would ever hear his sermon on the mount, let alone
what he would say when he got there.

It was getting increasingly difficult to negotiate the steep slope

as he wound his way through the scrub over the last boulders
before the plateau. The darkness was playing tricks with his
eyes and the constant shrill of cicadas and crickets made it
harder to concentrate on the washed out track.
He thought about Corey, and how he would hope to begin to
explain his theory on the Mars data. But he still had some
thinking to do.
He hoped that Ray had sent Corey the latest data.

Take a look in the mirror

Corey could hardly believe his eyes. After restoring his

software, he checked his email and was pleased to see a new
data set of Mars that he could compare to those of the lost
probes.
He sat down, coffee in one hand and keyboard on the other and
lined the data up. It didn't matter that he didn't have the older
data anymore. All he had to do is run the data through his
algorithm, print out a matrix and then take a look, something
like an ink blot.
After studying the patterns of numbers and letters he noticed
the new matrix did not have a bulge at the end of each wave
like his original data. At the speed of light (zero on the matrix),
time seemed to have been slowed by approximately 3.14
seconds in the disaster data. Assuming the speed of light is
constant, this placed the point of disturbance at 1200
kilometres beyond Mars' orbit.
Yet the "disturbance" seemed to be well defined and sat in a
perfect geostationary orbit, which any first year student would
tell you was impossible at this altitude.
It was then Corey noticed that there were footnotes with the
data.

Ray had included a note that read;

"We checked the magnasphere around Mars again, and there
seems be a thousand fold increase in activity on the far side of
Mars.
For the next six months Earth is chasing Mars in its orbit
towards opposition and we don't really get a look at about 40%
of the surface and the space behind it.
The Mars Surveyor probe is ten years old and on its last legs
but reports no major change to the Martian surface in the last
eight years it has been orbiting.
Something big is happening. Either Mars is somehow ready to
change her orbital tilt on a massive scale - something we don't
quite understand, or there is an object the size of Manhattan,
weighing about one sixteenth of our moon hiding from us on
the other side.
Be careful Corey. I'm sure we're not the only ones to have
noticed it... Ray Phillips."

Corey repeated the words, "an object the size of Manhattan and
one sixteenth the weight of the moon."
It occurred to him that such an object, real or just
electromagnetic, could feasibly act as a mirror, bouncing back
a radio signal. This might explain how his mirror theory fits in.
At light speed, three point four one seconds is about double the
distance between the Martian upper atmosphere closest to us
and the phantom on the other side.

The earth had known for the last hundred and forty years that
Mars has two so called "moons". Deimos, a 35 km long potato
shaped piece of rock and its little brother, Phobos, a much
lower orbiting chunk, hurtling in a perilously close path around
Mars. It encircles the planet twice daily rising in the west and
setting in the east. It is so low that it is not visible from all parts
of the planet. In a mere 20 million years it will crash into the
Martian surface.
It suddenly dawned to him that if a phantom object existed
with that mass it would surely be seen in rather large change to
the orbit of these moons.
He picked up the phone to Siding Springs and dialed the
number.
Ray answered the phone in his typical laconic manner.
"Hi Ray, its Corey, I've got to get in touch with Charlie.
There's something funny going on with Mars.”
"Don't worry Corey, I'm on top of it.
But I wish that Charlie would have told me what was going on.
I guess you're going to ask me about the orbits of our two little
Greek friends;
Terror and Fear.
"Well let me say that poor little Phobos as changed his apogee
by about 10 kms and its orbit has become much more elliptical.
I've never seen anything like it in all my life, but then again
I've only been alive sixty one years.
I wish Charlie had involved me earlier.
Charlie's Manhattan theory seems to be the only plausible
explanation.
If the body is purely magnetic, an aurora gone crazy, it should
have a gravity effect no where near what we are seeing. Mars
just doesn't have the mass or the magnetosphere to create a
magnetic storm of this magnitude.
Yet the effect looks so strong at a single point that its possible
that good old Newton's laws breakdown under such conditions.
Time is bent and matter can transform freely with the energy
around it. A total flux where energy is the natural state and
matter is just a fortunate consequence. As a parabola in four
dimensions, this may explain your pye, Corey."

Corey responded, "but how does the mirror fit in? and then
began to answer his own question.
“Surely the last few seconds of the Mars probe is clearly an
image of the previous 3.14 seconds. I watched a couple of guys
playing pool the other night at the local bar, and looked at their
reflection in the wall mirror behind me. The right handed
player now looked left handed but he was still positioned at the
same end of the table. The positional data corresponding to the
last few seconds of the transmission is completely reversed.
The right handed player not only looks like a lefty but is
playing his shot from the other end of the table. What we are
seeing is therefore not a mirror, at least any kind that I know
of, but more a fresh image.
It's like when you face a person, your right is their left and
your left is their right. If you have ever raced one of those
remote controlled cars towards you you'll know what I mean.
We could be looking into the back end of some kind of black
hole and being a shown a different version of ourselves".

Ray leaned back in his chair and was surprised that Corey
hadn't already asked him to take another look at Mars.
"You know Corey, it wouldn't be a bad idea to focus our
attention squarely on that patch of space on the far side of
Mars. I've got 24 hours to get it done before the rest of the guys
get back from their Christmas break and then I'm stuck behind
a desk again."
I have already spoken to my mates down at Stromolo and over
at Parkes and they are willing to give me 40 minutes air time at
eight o’clock this evening. We have positioned the three radio
telescopes in an array, so effectively our combined dish is 400
km wide. What ever this object is we should get a fair look at
it.
Corey could feel the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.
"Can you call me right away if you find anything new?" He
said vaguely, his mind already racing towards a thousand
possibilities.
"Oh, and I can tell you that Charlie's OK." The flying doctor
guys spotted him camped on the very top of the Breadknife this
morning burning a small fire.
Dammed if I can understand the attraction.
If I did that they would arrest me but if you're Kamilaroi its
OK. I hope the old bugger doesn't slip and get himself killed."
“Walooga”

Charlie had fought his way through the hakea scrub to reach
the breadknife that evening. It was about eleven o'clock, the
moon had set and the stars above shone as brightly as they
could. The breadknife was the eroded remains of a volcanic
dyke. Lava forced through a weak point in the sedimentary
rock long since weathered away. Now only a jagged bony
blade.
Charlie located the meeting stone and sat down on it. From his
small pack he pulled out a number of 35mm film canisters. He
then removed his clothes. His fingers felt the rock in the
darkness, walking across its surface like his ancestors had for
the last forty thousand years. They brushed across the
smoothened surface until he found four shallow wells in the
rock. He opened a couple of canisters and poured out the
powdery ochre paint base into one of the depressions. He then
patiently mixed his powders with water, one the brilliant ivory
white of crushed pyrite.
He looked up fixing his gaze skyward, and began to apply the
paint to his torso and face just like the last time he had done
this, 30 years ago.
The last time, at his ailing fathers urging, he had sought council
with his homeland, a confused young man. On that occasion he
was led out of the wilderness with a plan to rescue his life from
the cycle of alcohol and petty crime his childhood friends were
caught up in.
He put the last of the ochre mix onto his forehead and fixed his
gaze on the Pleiads; the seven sisters, a cluster of stars, nothing
more than a faint smudge in the city, but here a brilliant clutch
of pearls.
The brightest star Alcone, aligned perfectly with the top of the
spire towering in front of him.
With purpose and reverence he rose to his feet and began to
climb the breadknife, his fingers and toes searching and finding
the cracks in the granite face. His aging body now seemingly
fit and pliable, he reached the top and surveyed the view
around him. Total darkness except for the dazzling ferment
above.
It was too dark to see the land and horizon and it gave him the
feeling of being elevated above the Earth, just that little bit
closer to the stars above.

The actual summit of the bread knife is of a flat topped wedge

of granite about one by three metres at the top and forming the
start of series of other jagged fingers of granite each lower than
the last. It certainly doesn't look like a breadknife when you are
close to it. More like a cathedral.

Charlie sat down, his legs crossed and limp, in the way his
people had before him. He slowed his breathing, and
descended into a deep sleep.

END CHAPTER 3
 Song Title: Déjà vu
Genre: Rock/Anthem
M usic: WillemWillem
Remix : Scomber
Lyrics: Scomber
Vocals: Scomber
= Download Song

Chapter 4
Deja vu

Corey sat in front of his computer. It dawned on him that he

could possibly retrieve the lost data he had sent to Charlie from
his email server.
He put the kettle on while he waited for the data to download
back onto his machine.
Tap Tap Tap.
Corey stood up and reached to draw open the curtains over the
window. He cupped his hands and peered out into the garden, it
was difficult to see in the darkness with the bright glare inside
his room. It was Lisa.
"Corey I think you better come down to the Stag right away."
she whispered at the top of her voice.
"Your girlfriend is making quite a scene down there".
Corey grabbed his coat and bolted down the stairs,
meeting Lisa on the path behind the building.
She reached for his hand and ran him down the path.
"I've got to get back to work, but I thought you'd like to check
this out." she puffed, clearly out of breath.
After a quick run back to the Stag they entered through the
kitchen and walked up the narrow corridor leading to the bar.
Corey could hear a chorus of wolf whistles and jeers as they
both stopped at the doorway to greet the scene before them.
It was Miranda, alright.
Dancing on a table, breasts out, and gyrating her hips to the
beat of an old 70's number blaring from the jukebox.
Corey had forgotten how striking she was. Even though there
was twenty or so patrons gathered around, beers in hand and
tongues on floor, she kept her gaze unfixed, concentrating on
the rhythm, her legs impossibly long, her heels sliding over a
table top of spilt drinks.

He felt Lisa's nails bite into his arm through his coat, suddenly
bringing him back to reality.
"Well are you going to join in stud?" she asked, those eyelids
batting, planting her hand on her hip.
Before Corey could reply the music stopped abruptly. The
entire crowd turned around in the direction of the jukebox.
Standing to its right was a police officer with the power chord
in one hand and the other pointing to a now motionless
Miranda. The bar had never been so quiet.
Slowly, the crowd began to boo until the cop stepped forward,
pulled out his revolver and shot a hole in the ceiling right
above Miranda.
"Break it up. Move along people. There's nothing to see here."
he announced as he reached for Miranda's waist, lifting her off
the table.
He promptly produced a coat, covered her up and began to
march her out of the bar towards the entry that was to Corey
and Lisa's right. It didn't seem the usual method of
apprehending an offender, it was much too familiar, Corey
thought to himself. The body language was wrong.
What happened next was astonishing. Turning the corner
towards the front doors, the pair simply vanished, right before
Corey and Lisa's eyes. The automatic doors didn't open to
allow anybody out.
"Am I seeing things Corey?" Lisa asked, her jaw slack, in
much the same position as Corey's. Corey turned to the pool
room and spotted the security camera perched at the end of the
entry.
"Are those things working?" he asked Lisa, who was heading
for the doors for a quick look outside. He followed her out. No
sign of them.
"Yeah the boss tapes everything after that robbery last year.
Four cameras;
one in the pool room, one in the lounge, one in the entrance
and the other behind me at the bar . It makes sure I don't give
away free drinks.. I finish in 40 minutes, would you like me to
grab the tape and come back to your place?
"You bet ya," Corey responded patting Lisa on the bottom,
flirting a bit.
"But could you also see if you can find Thursday nights' tape.
This Miranda chick is really beginning to freak me out."
"I'll see you at 10." Lisa replied as she walked back into the bar
shaking her head and trying to figure out what had just
happened.

Corey really hustled back to his room. It had occurred to him

that if Miranda was in town, maybe she might be grabbing his
computer while he was talking to Lisa.
He was relieved to see everything in its place as he entered his
room.
He sat down on the lounge and reached forward for the pen
resting on a notepad on the coffee table.
He began to jot down a few thoughts, trying to make sense of
the events unfolding.
Mars. Manhattan. Mirror. Magnetosphere. Miranda.
Well that's the M's taken care of.
He then drew points beneath each word.
Mars; fourth rock from the sun. Frozen out, dusty, the god of
war. It's blood red specter foretelling impending doom and
bloodshed.
Manhattan; New York. 9-11
Magnetosphere; from what Corey knew, Mars didn't really
have one, well not like Earth's anyway. There seemed to be
patches of magnetic fields above parts of the planet but the
molten iron dynamo inside had apparently stopped two billion
years ago and with it, any real atmosphere had been stripped
away by solar radiation.
But it seemed to have one now. An invisible magnet hiding
behind our nearest neighbour.
Miranda; the slippery nipple. Who? What? From Where?
Where next?

He had to speak to Charlie. He looked at his watch. Hopefully

Ray should be getting a good look at Mars about now.
A tap on the window.
"Jeez, doesn't she ever come to the door?" he asked himself as
he headed towards the entry.
Corey met Lisa at the stairs carrying a couple of video tapes.
"Come inside Leis, and lets whack those tapes into the VCR.
And by the way I live at number 4".
He pointed at the number at the intercom.
There's even a buzzer".
He sat her down on the lounge, grabbed the shopping bag with
the tapes
and headed over to the kitchen to pour them both a stiff
whiskey.
Lisa looked towards Corey. "That wouldn't be a slippery nipple
would it?
"No just a bit of lubricant. Corey responded pointing to the TV.
He put the drinks down and inserted the first tape.
"Slow down big boy, this is Thursday night's tape when she
was only throwing out the burley...
You know we're very lucky to have these tapes you know".
Lisa quipped.
"If I hadn't changed the tape straight after you left and grabbed
Thursday nights tape they would have been gone."
Corey looked surprised.
"What do you mean gone."
"That's just it." she said. "As I left I had the feeling that I had
turned off the security VCR by mistake so I went to check it
and saw that the entire cupboard storing hundreds of tapes
completely empty."
"The plug was out of the socket and there was no tape inside.
This is serious shit you've got yourself into Corey."
They played the first video. It was Thursday night.
The video was time stamped and the image split in four. One of
the entrance, one the bar, the other the lounge and the fourth,
the pool tables.
Corey fast forwarded until Lisa shouted;
"There's you walking in the entrance. That was eight o'clock
because I remember looking at the time wishing it was closing
just before you walked in.
"There you are getting your drinks and sitting over at the
booths near the pool tables."
Corey continued to fast forward waiting for Miranda. The tape
showed Corey sitting for a while and then getting out of the
booth and heading to the bar again.....
Corey hit play and slowly rewound the tape.
"If that's me going to get the cocktail, then where the hell is
Miranda?"
He looked for the lounge shot displayed at the bottom left, and
could see no sign of anybody sitting with him from the other
angle.
"Stop there". Lisa shouted. "No back just a little bit."
"now there's you standing up and looking like your just about
to curtsy .Then shaking hands with nobody."
Corey instinctively pressed the pause on the remote and they
both looked at each other just like they had a couple of hours
before.
There was a blur, or maybe even a shadow, much smaller than
the real thing.
Corey massaged the slow motion button. There it was again but
this time over Corey's head. A smoky shadow, like a giant set
of claws seizing their prey. Corey suddenly realized that this
was the moment he tasted the cocktail.
He looked at Lisa.
"She certainly spiked your drink". she mouthed, her eyes fixed
to the image on screen.
Corey had a large sip of his whiskey and stood up in front of
the TV.
The video showed him was leaving the bar, with his arm
around something, his weight assisted by some sort of body.
He ejected the tape and inserted the other.
"Let's check out tonight's action".
The tape was cued 5 minutes after Corey left which seemed
about right.
He rewound the tape. After a short while he pressed play.
"Nothing's happening here" Corey said.
Lisa lent forward.
"Go forward until you see the chairs around that table fall
over."
She said pointing to one of the four images.
“That’s when it all started, I heard the crash from the Bar and
saw your lady leap up onto the table and feverishly match the
song belting out of the juke box.
"There we go. The guy's are starting to stand up around her but
where the hell is your girlfriend Corey? This is really
beginning to freak me out."
"Let's just go to the end" Corey responded, fast forwarding.
"I've got to see that cop guy."
"That's in about 10 minutes" Lisa added.
The phone rings. Scares the shit out of them. Corey drops the
remote like he's been shot in the back.
"Stop the video!"
He picks up the phone.
It's Ray.
"Corey, sorry if I woke you up or something, but I just had to
tell someone. Well, Charlie's apparently back today, but the
Mars results are not exactly what I expected. There's seems to
be an object 20km long by 12km wide on the far side of Mars.
Cycling every 3.14 seconds; the mass of the object increases
from the weight of a pea to the weight of the Moon 19 times a
minute. But the spacial readings indicate it remains a constant
20 by 12km.
I reckon that it even seems to be hiding behind Mars”.
“Hiding from who?” Corey asked.
Ray's tone changed.
“Us mate….Corey, we're keeping this one pretty close to our
chest down here and wouldn't like you blabbing about this over
there just yet.
In six hours we collected enough data for years of analysis.
But you know what the funny thing was, all three radio
telescopes in the array; us, Parkes, and Stromlo crashed with a
blown fuse simultaneously. It cut our viewing by 15 minutes.
Pat over at Parkes has never seen anything like it in his life.
These fuses are generally redundant and are really only meant
to protect the instruments in case of a lightning strike.
Anyway Corey, I'm sure that Charlie will want to reach you
later on. Do you have a mobile phone?
Corey said yes and gave him the number.
Corey's head was spinning again.
"It's been developing for the last three years since the Mars
probes went missing. Is it getting any stronger?" he asked.
"Sorry Corey, we've only had the data four hours we just can't
tell yet."
Ray wound up the conversation.
"And please, not a word to anyone until you read it in the
papers."

Lisa had helped herself to a drink while Corey was on the

phone but had resisted looking for the cop who ended the
show.
Corey poured the last drops of the bottle and played the tape.
They watched as the crowd of onlookers stopped and turned
around in the direction of the camera as the music stopped.
"Isn’t there a better angle where you can see the duke box?
Corey asked.
They both realized that with the camera high above the duke
box and the other over the pool tables there was little chance of
seeing the jukebox.
"Slow it down now" urged Lisa.
The table was shaking to a beat, with an invisible person
dancing wildly.
"Slower, slower" she said.
She stopped dancing. Then once again there was a shadow of
sorts. But this time two figures. One, possibly Miranda high
above the table, the other, the cop, menacing and then lunging
over the top like they had seen in the first video.

"Nothing more on the tape. Just a couple of ghosts that don't

really show up on video walking out of a bar. Let’s look at the
doors." Corey said.
They both inched closer to the television looking at the image
of the front doors opening and then closing.
"Hang on a second." Corey paused.
"The doors didn't open when we saw it live tonight. They
disappeared before they reached them.
"It could have been the wind you know" Lisa said joking.
Corey looked up with his lip down and his eyes wide.
"Pour me another drink Corey. I don't have to work tomorrow."
He ejected the tape and got up to make Lisa a drink.
"How does Bacardi and dry sound? He reached for the dusty
bottle of rum on top of the kitchen cupboard.
"We should take the tapes down to the media lab tomorrow for
a better look. I got Jeff a shag last year; he owes me.
You can crash on the sofa if you like Leis.
He looked around feeling slightly uncomfortable.
"What? You're not going to have your way with me like
Miranda."
She purred, lying back on the sofa pushing her cleavage
together.
"Come on Lisa. I told you I honestly can't remember a thing."
"Sure you can. I know back at home when I used to sneak out
and meet Jimmie and well I guess, do it...well you know... I
could tell when the equipment has had some use."
"I'll be straight with you Lisa. It really shits me that I can't
remember fucking the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
You see, it's just a blur. I woke up in nothing but my socks and
a sore head.
Lisa reached forward to console him.
"We'll if it’s any consolation I got pretty hot on what I saw
earlier tonight.
But I can't compete at that level."
Corey inched towards Lisa on the sofa, realizing that she may
have actually spilt the beans and revealed her secret fancy.
Lisa moved forward and pointed her lips towards Corey.
It was an awkward first kiss, her mouth finding part of his
nostril, but they both got the message and eventually found the
mark.
"I think we should find somewhere more comfortable Mr
Starman."
Lisa laughed uncontrollably at first but then managed to guide
his bottom towards the bed.
Her eyes like saucers, fixed upon his eyes, Lisa dispensed with
her top and bra and stood at the foot of Corey's bed; swinging
those hips and pointy nipples in the cold night air, doing that
Miranda thing.
A brief feeling of apprehension passed through his body.
I wonder if this means we'll be going out together? he asked
himself.
His hesitation was short lived when he realised he was about to
bed the hottest girl on campus.

End of chapter 4
 Song Title: Lights Out
Genre: Rock/Psychedelic
M usic: St Paul, Colab and Chris Bailey
Remix : Scomber
Lyrics: Scomber/KCentric
Vocals: Scomber/KCentric
= Download song

Chapter Five
Lights Out

Ray Phillips. One look at his furrowed brow and craggy

features should have placed him as a cattle farmer.
His hands were large and coarse. His eyes were a faded blue,
dazzling in his youth, but now dissolving with the years.
He lay in his bed, giggling to himself like a child with a big
secret, his wife Hazel asleep on one side, and a printed image
of the orb stretched out on the floor the other side.
"So this is Charlie's Manhattan" he whispered.
"Fifteen miles long and weighing a quarter of our moon."
"We've made it Hazel. We've bloody well made it."
His thoughts were interrupted by the ring of the telephone
down the hallway.
He leapt out of bed, faster than he had ever done before and
picked up the phone.
It was Pat from the Parkes telescope, out of breath and clearly
distressed.
"Ray get back to your telescope right now and call the police."
Ray interrupted. "What's happened?"
They’ve taken all the computers. I managed to get in the car
and ....... burrrrrrrrrrr. The line went dead.
He tapped the hang up button. No dial tone.
Ok Ray. Take a few deep breaths… he said to himself.
He grabbed his keys, checked on Hazel and jumped into his
car.
He was only at the end of the street when he saw all the lights
go out.
No street lights or lights in houses.
Bang! Ray flinched, wrenching the wheel to the opposite side
of the road. He swerved clear of a fiery ball of flames and
sparks and stopped the car.
"Jesus". He slumped over the wheel his heart beating a drum
through his rib cage. A completely burnt out electricity
transformer, about the size of a fridge lay prostate in the middle
of the road.
The pole from where it had launched was still on fire.
By the time he had got out towards the bridge through town he
saw at least half a dozen transformers, one on the roof of a car
looking like a fallen piece of Skylab. He passed the police on
the bridge and soon a couple of fire engines all heading back
into town.
It was an incredibly dark night. Even though he was well clear
of the town, it seemed impossibly dark. He concentrated on the
road and the beam of light that stretched in front of him.
It's probably always this dark out here with no moon and a
blackout in town. He thought about Pat from Parkes and how
the last thing he said was something about managing to get into
his car. Why would use the word "manage" unless it was a
difficult assignment to reach his vehicle and flee. Who are
"they".?.
The road entered the national park and narrowed as it twisted
up the mountain.
There is something on the road ahead. Startled, Ray jumps on
the brakes, locking up and expecting a kangaroo through the
windscreen, stopped just short of Charlie.
"Jump in you flam'n lunatic".
Charlie was still in his paint and total naked.
"Gee thanks Mr. Phillips for the lift to work, but why are you
dressed in your pajamas?
Ray gave a wry smile looking Charlie up and down.
"Well I think you’re just in time, Pocahontas, to see who else is
interested in your Mars work.
The road reached the top of the first escarpment and Ray pulled
the car over to the side. They both got out and looked towards
town. Not a single light.
Ray turned to Charlie.
"I'm figuring it's some sort of power surge or a particularly
vicious magnetic storm. The transformers were flying off the
poles in town like flaming grenades.
You know you were right about your Manhattan object.
We set up an array last night with Parkes and Stromlo and even
got a radio image of the son of a bitch. Why didn’t you fill me
in earlier Charlie?
Charlie's gaze was skyward his face all white teeth and eyes.
"You know Boss, I saw the object in a dream I had on
walkabout. It's a peanut shaped orb that flows and shimmers as
if it was made of quicksilver. It gave me a sense of warmth but
cut with a biting cold that I could feel in my bones. Kamilaroi
have a word for it – coloata – the fire of the gods. It’s the force
that separates the living from the afterlife and it has been here
before. The older blackfellas say that it perched itself high
above the treetops of the Grand Tor near the end of the
Dreamtime. You go up there even now and your compass spins
like a top”.
Ray looked up towards the observatory anxiously.
"I reckon we park the car at the first bend and walk up the
stairs rather than driving up.”
They got into the car and drove another five hundred metres.
Ray peeled off to the right at the first corner concealing the car
from the road in a small excavation cut when the road was
built.
"Just take it really quiet as we reach the depot.
I think someone is in the process of pinching our gear, but I
don't think they’re Martians."
As they climbed the stairs the refracted glow from the
compound flood lights seemed to dull the intolerable darkness.
Stopping at the last flight of stairs, Charlie took a look at Ray,
struggling about fifty metres back, feeling the climb. Even in
the low light, his black and white striped pajamas shone in the
darkness like some kind of incandescent zebra.
"I can see you a mile away with that clobber Boss. You stay
here or take your bloody clothes off like me. I think I better
take a quick look around.
The backup generator is running. The lights are on.”
Ray didn't have time to argue as Charlie sprung over the last
flight of stairs and into the cover of the bushes that lined the
car park.
He looked towards the main building and saw a light turn on at
the rear of the control room. He ran towards the utilities shed
in the center of the compound. The keys were in their usual
place and he opened the door and stepped inside. He knew that
he would have a huge advantage by turning the emergency
generator off. He disconnected the battery backup and pulled
the ignition leads off the petrol generator. Darkness again. He
could see a couple of torches a lot easier on a dark night. He
slinked out of the shed and saw the flash of a couple of torches
in the control room and bolted towards them, heading for the
external fire escape stairs. Charlie knew every nook and cranny
of the observatory better than anyone else – after all, he
cleaned the place for ten years. Reaching the top floor he
shimmied along the narrow ledge that ran just below the
control room. There was a gap in the wall about half a metre
square where an old air conditioner used to sit before the
building was ducted. He squeezed through, accessing a narrow
space between the wall and the interior lining. As quietly as he
could he crabbed his way along the wall until he reached a
couple of holes in the plaster where some old mainframes used
to be bolted to the wall. There was just enough space to see
into the control room.
There appeared to be three men, working efficiently to remove
one of the main servers that stores temporary data acquired by
the main dish for positioning the optical telescopes. They were
definitely slowed down by the lack of light, relying on their
torches.
“What happened to the backup power?” one figure asked the
other.
Charlie noticed that the accents were American as one left the
room and headed for the fire stairs.
They were dressed in black combat fatigues, probably armed
he thought.
Charlie then shuffled his way in the confining space towards
the other fire exit that served the other wing. There was nothing
this warrior, forget about his war paint, was going to do with
his boss in the carpark in his pajamas. He reached the end of
the cavity and remembered that he would have to climb twelve
feet over the mesh at the fire escape. The mesh was
surprisingly quiet as he lifted his frame over the edge. The only
problem about this exit was that he would have to open the fire
escape door blind, taking the risk that someone might be
guarding outside at the top of the stairs. His heart beat through
his chest as he pushed the bar and slipped through the door. No
one there. But he could now see the person who left the other
exit loading some equipment into the back of a dark coloured
van.
“I’ve got to get back to Ray.” He mouthed to himself. He was
just about to start down the stairs when he heard the door
behind him click.
“All clear west exit”. An American voice said quietly into a
two way radio. The figure walked past Charlie, down the stairs
in front of him, fortunately not noticing him pinned against the
building wall, not game to take a breath.
Charlie saw his opportunity. He took a couple of swift strides
towards the figure at the first landing and shouldered him over
the railing for a deadly fifteen metre fall to the carpark below.
The starlight was just enough for Charlie to make out the
prostrate form not moving at the base of the stairs. He bolted
down, rolled the man over onto his back and took his pistol
from the body holster.
His radio was blaring; “Alpha. Respond. Respond.” He could
still hear the radio as he dashed back towards the bushes and
stairs where he had left Ray. He wasn’t there but Charlie
instinctively used his bush tracking skills and noticed some
long grass trodden in the direction of the top lookout. He found
Ray beyond the safety railing, butt naked, trailing a long
electrical wire up the grassy slope, back towards the viewing
platform.
“They’re American boss, and I don’t think they are very
friendly.” Charlie said waving the pistol towards him. “I
pushed one off the back stairs.”
“Put that bloody thing away.” He responded. Ray was a man
on a mission.
“How many did you see?” he asked
“I only saw three, well, make that two now.” They were
removing the data arrays and loading them into a van.”
Ray turned to Charlie, twisting a couple of wires together.
“Are you sure there was only one van.” He asked, his mind
clearly preoccupied with the task at hand.
The penny dropped. Charlie began to realize what his naked
boss had in mind.
The lookout was closed to the public a couple of years ago
after a series of rock falls that had landed on the road below.
Ray had been to the utility shed soon after Charlie had cut the
backup power and retrieved a small quantity of explosives and
detonators that had been left behind by the crew that cleared
the debris from the road below. They had only just reached the
viewing platform when they heard the van start up. They stood
up, peering down at the set of headlights as they snaked their
way down the grade around the first couple of bends. Ray
produced a nine volt battery and prepared to touch the twisted
copper wire against the terminals.
Now! Charlie urged as the van slowed to negotiate the hairpin
immediately below. The blast was loud, but nothing as big as
Ray had imagined. To both of their surprise a large piece of the
cliff face and topsoil below them sheared off the side of the
slope, dragging a couple of trees with it. It was a direct hit.
They ran to the other side of the viewing platform and scaled
the safety rail so they could see the road below. Not a sound or
even a flash of headlights. Just a large chunk of mountain on
the road beneath.
Ray tuned to Charlie.
“Public visiting hours are between 9 and 5 pm and these guys
obviously didn’t see the “falling rocks” sign as they left the
carpark.”
He suddenly looked more serious and his was voice somber,
“You know Charlie that this is only going to buy us a couple of
hours.”
Whoever these guys are, they already have the data from
Parkes.
Just as well I took the backup tapes home with me when I left
this evening...”
A look of horror transformed his face in the weak moonlight.
“Oh my god! Hazel.
I left her at home sound asleep. The tapes are on the dresser in
our bedroom.”
They bolted back to the carpark and down the stairs to the car.
 Song Title: Winter Coat
Genre: Indie/Pop
M usic: State Shirt & Admiral Bob
Remix & Arrangement : Scomber
Lyrics: Scomberina
Vocals & M elody:Scomberina
= Download Song

Chapter Six
Winter Coat

Corey awoke to a noisy robin outside his window, obscenely

happy for this time of the morning.
He opened his eyes and gazed over the naked form of Leisa.
God that Jimmie is going to be pissed he thought as he slipped
out of bed trying not to wake her.
He walked over to the table and picked up the videotapes of
Miranda.
He began to make a quick coffee and then put on his smoky
clothes from the night before.
He picked up a pen and paper and wrote Leisa a short note
explaining his absence.

Gone to show Jeff the tapes.

Shouldn't be long - hang around and we'll have brunch.
Make yourself comfortable :)
Need to talk about last night.
Kisses on your hand. xxx
See u soon C

The noise of the kettle beginning to boil woke Leisa just as

Corey was leaving, forgetting about the coffee.
She sat up. “Now where are you off to Starman?”.
Her breasts hung pendulous just above a wrap of bed sheet.
“I’m taking the tapes over to the media lab so they can have a
better look. Jeff owes me.”
He walked out the door only just avoiding that awkward
morning after moment.
As he walked down the stairs he thought what an idiot he was
leaving the hottest girl on campus in his warm bed for a couple
of tapes of nothing. Then it hit him.
Charlie’s Manhattan, Miranda, the cop; they have to be
connected.
That’s why Miranda was so interested in Mars and took the
backup tapes.
He kicked himself for not making the link earlier.

Jeff Petersen was a short guy, about five foot four, with
ordinary blue gray eyes and a complexion that reminded you of
discarded snake skin.
Corey did a first year assignment with Jeff, and had once
convinced Corey to line him up with one of his girlfriend’s frat
friends, Tammy.
Tammy was prim and proper, straight out of the 1956 year
book.
They went out a few times until Tammy decided that she could
not be seen in public with old lizard face. Surely, Jeff owed
him for getting him the only date he will probably ever get at
college.
The media lab was located in the bowels of one of the largest
and oldest buildings on campus. A journey down a poorly lit
spiral stair case led Corey to the media lab.
The door was open and he could see Jeff with his head under
the console playing with cables.
“Hey Jeff, ...under the table every time I see you”
A startled Jeff slammed his head against the console which ran
the length of the wall underneath a row of screens.
“Damn don't you ever knock Mason? Jeff stammered, getting
back onto his feet clutching his forehead.
“I've got some home movies I'd like you to take a look at.”
Corey said.
“I don't really fancy watching hours of grainy footage of your
butt Mason.”
“Don't worry its footage from the Stag. Very G rated
unfortunately. Do you believe in ghosts Jeff? What if I told you
I have footage of a ghost?”
“Sure, and I bet you can get me another date with Tammy too”
Just as likely Jeff figured.
Corey handed the two tapes to Jeff. “See for yourself. It should
be cued to the right place.
“Security tapes hey? Since when have you become the private
dick?”
Jeff asked as he placed the first tape in the deck.
There's a girl I met at the Stag and she barely shows up on the
tape.
“Sounds like the home movie I made of Tammy”
Corey leans forward to the screen as it begins to play.
“Four camera's, which one do you want?” Jeff asked.
“The Stag must use the same system as the university so I
should be able to isolate and enlarge each camera without
losing too much resolution.”
“Try the booths and pool table shot. That's me in the second
booth.
Corey pointed and touched the LCD screen with his finger
drawing a sharp
look from Jeff.
“Easy big fella, watch this.”
A few clicks of the mouse and the image of Corey on a date
with himself was clear and true full screen.
“She's sitting to my left on the other side of the booth,” Correy
indicated.
Jeff looked at Corey like he was playing some joke. There was
certainly no one else in the booth.
“OK then lets try this”. Jeff turned on a filter labeled
“infrared”.
“Its not true infrared but its as red as possible from the CCD
capture.”
“Woah.! Will you look at that.”
The footage now showed two orange figures.
They watched intently.
The moment after Miranda swirled the drink, her mysterious
figure seemed to morph then leap over Corey, swirling above
him. After a brief moment it stopped and fell over him like ash.
“You seem to be having much more fun on your dates than me
Corey.
What the hell did you say it was?”
“The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
And she dances naked on a table on this next tape.”
They spent the next twenty minutes looking at the second tape,
getting more confused by the minute.
“Just tell me this Jeff. How is it possible to see something with
the naked eye that a video camera can't? ”
“From what I know, a video camera CCD works much the
same way as the human retina. It detects photons on the array
surface and each charged device transmits its measured
wavelength back to the image processor for decoding. The only
difference is downstream from there. Your brain doesn't work
in zeros and ones. Our eyes don't do all the seeing, its our brain
that does all the heavy lifting. Your brain makes sense of the
data that is transmitted from your optic nerves and then
matches it against set patterns it is familiar with. It all about
perception based on experience. ”
“So you are saying that we are all going mad?” Corey said,
crossing his eyes. “I wasn't the only one who saw her.”
Corey picked up the tapes.
“Keep this to yourself Jeff. We really shouldn't have the tapes
you know.
Leisa took them without asking. I've got to get back home. I
left a beautiful naked girl in my bed to come and see you.”
Jeff looked at Corey with a fixed gaze.
“Do you want to borrow some video gear?” he asked as Corey
turned towards the door.
Corey smiled.
“Thanks Jeff. Remember not a word.”

When he left the apartment earlier Leisa sat up in bed and her
head ached from last nights whiskey.
That was quick, she thought to herself as Corey virtually ran
out the door mumbling something about Jeff.
She wrapped the sheet around herself and walked over to the
kitchen.
She saw his note on the table and read it. What did it mean
“need to talk about last night”?
She grabbed a couple of aspirin from the kitchen bench, and
poured herself the coffee that Corey had half made.
“Jeez, shit coffee Mr Starman.” she mouthed, suddenly feeling
a bit too hungover. She cradled the coffee and went back to the
bed.
She sat for a few minutes surveying her new beau's
surroundings.
Cleanliness wasn't his finest point, neither was taste for that
matter.
There was of course the obligatory framed print of some dogs
playing poker. She began to feel cold and noticed the window
was open. Unable to be bothered with getting out of bed again
she spotted a long woolen trench coat over the back of his
desk. Instinctively she pulled it towards her face.
The smell of Corey instantly hit her with a thousand memories
from last night. She knelt up and slipped her arms into its warm
folds.
A weird feeling of warmth enveloped her and she felt nauseous
and dizzy.
A warmth so encompassing that her last thought was that she
had pissed herself.
She looked up at a stain on the plaster ceiling above just as her
vision faded to blackness.

The moment Corey returned to his room, he felt something was

wrong,
besides the clear fact that there was no naked girl in his bed.
The place smelt distinctly of some kind electrical fire. His note
was gone and beside the bed on the chest was an unfinished
cup of coffee.
Then he saw it.
In the middle of his clean bed sheet (for Corey anyway) was a
singed human form, more like an impression - like the starfish
marks his sister once left on the sand on a family holiday to the
beach.
Confused he looked around scanning the room for answers.
Starting to panic he noticed that Miranda's coat was gone.
He picked up the phone and dialed Leisa's cell phone. It rang in
all its Britney Spears ringtone glory, vibrating next to pillow at
the top of the bed. She wouldn't go anywhere without her
phone he thought, increasing worried.
He decided to go to her dorm and see if anyone had seen her.
Leisa's dormitory was on the other side of campus across the
road from the Stag. Running in the brisk January air he weaved
his way through the motel gardens and by the side of Stag.
Something stopped him. Maybe it was that all of a sudden it
was perfectly quiet. Not a bird whistling, no wind in the trees
or even a car from the nearby road. He then noticed something
in the garden.
“Oh God, its Leisa.”
He ran towards a black form amongst the leaf litter, his pulse
racing, fearing the worst. As he approached he was relieved to
discover it was just a coat. He bent over and picked it up. It
was Miranda's. He reached into the inside pocket expecting to
find the note that she had left him. Nothing.
Even more confused he ran on to Leisa's dorm and asked a few
familiar faces if they had seen her. No sign of her anywhere.
From the stairs he could see clearly into her room through the
open curtains. Not there either.
He wandered back to his room in a daze with Miranda's coat in
his hand wondering if he should call the police.
He walked into his room and approached the bed, once again
studying the burnt impression of Leisa on the sheet.
He laid down on the bed in an attempt to get his head around
what had just happened. He noticed the open window just as a
cold wind blew in, making his hair stand on end and dissipating
the electrical smell.
All quiet again.
In a trance like state he had the uncontrollable urge to put the
coat on.
He reached into the arms and pulled it over his shoulders,
collapsing on the bed as a familiar darkness gathered him up in
a deadly warmth.

End chapter 6
in
Song Title: Oberon
Genre: Ballad/Rock
M usic: Shannon Hurley & Scomber
Arrangement /Production/Remix : Scomber
Lyrics: Scomber
Vocals: Scomber
= Download

Chapter 7

Black Hawks and Emu Eggs

After a breathless run down the stairs Ray and Charlie reached
the car below the observatory.
How could I be so stupid? Ray asked himself.
He had left Hazel asleep in bed. And right next to exactly what
the spooks were after.
“Your know Charlie, what we imaged behind Mars can't be a
natural phenomenon”. He said, bent over the steering wheel
trying to keep the car on the road in the darkness.
“Whatever it is, its way beyond our engineering capabilities.
For goodness sake, we can't even successfully insert a couple
of probes into the atmosphere let alone hold some enormous
energy disco ball in geostationary orbit.
I wonder what Sir Ninian would think?”
Charlie looked over to Ray in the dim light of the dashboard.
Under the circumstances it was mildly amusing to be riding
back into town at four in the morning with his naked boss.
“Boss, this is only the beginning. The coloata will show itself
soon. Up on the breadknife I dreamt that I was holding a new
born baby in my arms. I tried to hand it back to its mother but
she turned her back on me and said that the child was mine and
I had better look after her well. I looked down at the girl and
all I carried was a clutch of emu eggs.
Emu eggs that shone like quicksilver.
In our Dreaming, the Sun was created by throwing an emu egg
into the sky.
Last time the coloata visited these parts it's said that a mob of
one thousand emu's took over the plateau just below the Grand
Tor and defended the summit.
All the other animals stayed away. A single hawk flew the
winds rising up the face of the Tor as a sentry, guarding the
mountain from any intruders. Any fella not welcome had his
eyes pecked out.
The sun didn't set for four days until the head of the mob
postured skyward, opened his beautiful wings and flew towards
the sun. Higher and higher. As he neared the Sun his wings
were singed . He fell back to earth and the emu lost its ability
to fly forever. Very similar to your Icarus story.
All I know Ray, is its much bigger than you and I but
somehow we are integral parts of the picture. People are
starting to notice.”
“Like our American friends back at the observatory.” Ray
replied.

As they approached the town, it was clear that the power was
still out.
The streets were dark and empty and the only sign of life was a
flurry of emergency vehicle lights on the top of the hill near
Ray's house.
“Oh shit that's my street, please God, I hope its not Hazel.”
As they climbed the hill to Rays house, Charlie grabbed him by
the shoulder.
“Stop here boss. I've got to get out. I just remembered more of
my dream. I have to get back to the breadknife. Right now”
Before Ray could say anything he was off. He had barely
waited for the car to stop as he opened the door and
disappeared into the darkness.
Black fellas can sniff the the coppers miles away Ray thought.
As soon as Ray turned the corner into his street he saw the
commotion.
There were half a dozen police cars and a large army van
parked across the road supporting a bank of lights flooding the
neighbours front lawn in a blinding arc of light.
A young police officer that Ray didn't recognise stepped out
onto the road and directed him to stop.
“I'm sorry Sir, but we have an emergency situation and have
restricted access to this part of the town.”
The young officer shone his torch through the window to see
Ray's naked form.
“Do you always drive around town naked at this hour Sir.”
“Sorry but that's my house. I'm Ray Williams chief astronomer
out at Siding Springs. I was called out to the observatory a
couple of hours ago when we had the blackout.”
“Please turn off the ignition and remain in your vehicle Sir, I'll
find you something to put on.”
Ray cut the engine and the young constable walked over
towards a senior officer. Ray recognised him as Colin Wilkes
the regional commander.
Ray leant out of the window.
“Hey Colin, its me Ray. What the hell is going on? I left Hazel
in bed asleep a couple of hours ago.”
The younger officer fetched a blanket and asked Ray to get out
of the car. Ray wrapped the blanket around himself and walked
towards Colin.
Then he saw it. Across the road at number 19 was the
wreckage of an army helicopter laying broken on Ted's front
lawn. A team of men in military fatigues were gathered around
the wreak. Besides some superficial damage and evidence of a
small fire the chopper was intact.
Commander Wilkes looked up from his two way radio.
“Hi Ray, you space guys are certainly a weird mob.” He said
looking down at his old friend wrapped in a blanket.
“You know me Colin, work first, clothes second. What the hell
has happened here? Have you seen Hazel?”
Hazel's down at number 15 having a cup of tea. She's alright.
Some young crazy koori girl pinched a blackhawk from the
base at Coonamble and flew it through the high voltage power
lines over at Fletchers ridge. Knocked the whole bloomn
substation out. Christ knows how she managed not to tangle
up. Let alone get this far. She's done the bolt into town
somewhere. I'd say she's pretty beaten up by the looks the
landing.”
“Can I go and fetch Hazel.”
“No worries Ray.”
I'll just go into my house to change first.” Ray added.
“Shouldn't be a problem, the lock down is really just a
precaution in case there was a further fuel leak. Air services
and another army team should be here soon to start the
investigation”
“Thanks Col”.
Ray fixed the blanket around himself and walked across the
road to his house. Walking straight to the bedroom, he was
overjoyed to see the printout and tapes still on the bedside. He
gathered them up and shoved them underneath the bed, put
some clothes on and made his way down to number 15.
Hazel was sitting on the front veranda with Liz sipping a cup of
tea.
“What are you two girls doing out at this time of night?” Ray
asked in his typical waggish manner.
“Where the hell did you go Ray?” Hazel wasn't at all impressed
that during the biggest drama the street had ever seen Ray was
nowhere to be found.
“I got called out to work when the power went off. The
emergency power failed to kick in and I had to go out and start
the generator.”
Hazel knew Ray well and suspected that while he may not
have been lying, something else had happened.
“Lets go home honey. I saw Colin and he said this place will be
a madhouse before sunrise. We may as well get some sleep.
Thanks Liz for looking after my bride.”
They walked up the street just as some more military vehicles
thundered up the hill and into the street.
As soon as they got inside Hazel began lighting some candles.
Ray looked concerned.
“Sweetheart. Please listen to me. Grab the suit cases and start
packing.
We have to get down to Sydney.”
“What on earth are you talking about Raymond? What's
happened? You're not telling me the whole story.”
“Just grab enough for a week Haze, I'll explain when we are in
the car”.
Ray packed up the tapes and printout and within ten minutes
they were ready.
“Give me the cases love. The car's down the street out the front
of Ian's house.”
Ray walked down the street, Hazel locked the house.
Ray was loading the boot when Colin approached him.
“Where you off to in such a hurry?” he inquired, sounding a
little more official than before.
“You know me Col. I'm not one to hang around for a three ring
circus. Besides I'd say its going to be a few days before the
power is back on, so we will head down to Hazel's brothers in
Wee Wa. The poor old guy doesn't see many folks since the
cotton mill was shut down last year.”
Colin placed his hand on Ray's shoulder.
“You and Hazel take care please. There's a lot of burnt out
transformers and wires down heading out of the southside of
town.”
Colin signaled to the young constable to raise the barrier to
allow Ray to turn back around.
As soon as they had reached the highway Ray pulled the car
over to the side of the road and broke the uncomfortable
silence.
He turned to Hazel.
“There was a break in at the observatory earlier and I'm pretty
sure Charlie and I killed a fella.”
Hazel was in shock. “What are you telling me Raymond? Are
we on the run?”
“Not exactly, dear. They were paramilitary and highly
organised. They had guns and spoke with American accents.
Buggers were pinching the computers. I got a call from Parkes
earlier and they had already taken all the gear there.”
“But why would you get involved Ray? You're going to retire
next year.”
Hazel began to cry.
“Charlie and I might have discovered something that may
change the world.
There's an object on the far side of Mars that's like nothing I've
ever seen before. Someone out there doesn't want anybody to
know about it. At any cost it seems.”
Ray started the car and pulled back out onto the highway.
“I want to meet with Sir Ninian and weigh up our options.
As soon as we get some service on the mobile phone, I'll call
him.”
Sir Ninian Mathews was a retired academic that Ray had
known for close to fifty years. He had spent a brief time as the
New South Wales Governor before being replaced by a new
government. He was outspoken and very much his own man so
the Labor Premier at the time replaced him with a less
controversial figurehead. He was knighted in 1973 for his
services to education and science but had spent the last decade
as a recluse .
He was still very well connected and there was no person in the
country who would refuse to take his call.

Hazel reached over and turned the car radio on.

“Its six o clock the news will be on. Shhh.”

“A major power outage has effected the Coonabaraban area

and we have received unconfirmed reports of an army
blackhawk helicopter crashing in the town. More as this story
unfolds.
Meanwhile police have released photos of missing 10 year old
Coonamble girl Oberon Walters. The search for the missing
girl is continuing since she was last seen on Thursday...”

“Hey Hazel, I bet that was the girl who crashed the chopper.
Col described her as a crazy koori kid from Coonamble.”
After a couple of hours they pulled off the highway into a
roadside restaurant.
“Grab some breakfast hey? I should have enough signal here to
call Sir Ninian..”
It was just getting light as Charlie made the steep climb up the
last ridge to the breadknife,
The bush was much quieter than normal. No kookaburras
greeting the morning. The wind had dropped and the sun shone
its first rays over the Tor. As he approached the last rise before
the meeting stone he sensed that there were others at the base
of the breadknife.
When he turned the corner, standing below the first spire were
three people. A young aboriginal girl and two white people all
completely naked.
As Charlie ambled the last steps the young girl stood forward
and presented her hand to Charlie.
“We thought we'd find you here.” she said, not at all
embarrassed by her nakedness.
“My name is Oberon and I think you may know my friends
already.
Corey, Charlie. Charlie, Leisa.
I think I'm your daughter.”
Song Lyrics
Track 7
http://ccmixter.org/content/scomber/scomber_-_Oberon.mp3

Oberon

Though it felt good

it happens in love
ten years ago
it faded above from memory

truth got caught in the middle

with a cat and a fiddle
like a clown with a riddle
but the man in the middle
had no rhyme for me

now tears are rolling from your eyes

and any thought would save me
years have past before my eyes
but I remember nothing (of you)

Oberon
Why did you take so long?
Should have known you'd come along
but now you must be strong
'cause you know why your here now daughter
our times begun
Oberon

you know your always in my past

a fading star, enough to last
a guiding star for now and ever
Now I've got you in my life
get to know you
would be nice
I guess its now or never

Now times begun

Oberon
Should have known you'd come along
but it must be strong
cause you know why your here now daughter
our times begun
Oberon

You know your always in my past

a fading star, enough to last
a guiding star for now and ever
Now I got you in my life
Get to know you
would be nice
I guess its now or never

(repeat to fade)