series of faucets set at knee level. Pup rinsed feet and hands and splashed water on his face. Evan did the same. The cool water felt wonderful on his sweaty, mud-streaked face, and it felt fine to have clean feet again.
A series of long trestle tables and benches lined up across the grass beneath a series of tall shady trees. At the end of each table was a kettle, several large serving bowls, and stacks of deep-dish plates. A slave armed with a ladle stood at each kettle. Pup and Evan, who had a head start, arrived at one of the tables before any of the other muckers did. Evan took up a plate, and the kettle slave filled it with what looked like a soupy stew. Pup also caught up several pieces of flat bread, and Evan did the same. They took up places further down the table and ate in silence, using the flat bread to scoop up the stew. It was bland and filling. Evan wondered if the meat was frog but didn’t ask. Instead, he scanned the kettle slaves, looking for his mother. He didn’t see her.
'Mistress Blanc must have been hard up for kitchen help,' Pup said, as if reading Evan’s mind. 'Your ma got put in the house kitchen instead of cooking for the slaves first.'
'Mom’s a good cook,' Evan said. 'My dad, though, can’t even …even …' He trailed off. The mention of his family brought an unexpected lump to his throat. Tears welled up and he looked away so Pup wouldn’t see them.
'Sucks,' Pup said.
'What?' Evan continued to stare at the ground. Bowls thumped on the table around them, competing with the noise of conversation. Sweaty brown shirts and tired, tanned bodies streamed steadily toward the food and tables. The air was a bit cooler under the trees, though it was still humid.
'Sucks getting sold away from your family. Least you got your ma here.'
'You have any family?' Evan surreptitiously wiped at his eyes as if there were something in them.
'Older sister. She’s a house slave, so I don’t see her much. My ma and dad are gone.'
'Hi! Pup! Where you been all day?'
Evan looked up and was abruptly surrounded by eight or nine boys and girls his age all dressed in brown. They took up places on the benches, bowls and bread in newly-washed hands. The question came from a dark- haired boy with the biggest brown eyes Evan had ever seen.
'Got an easy duty today showin’ round a newbie,' Pup said, flashing a grin. 'Everybody, this is Lizard. Lizard, this is Flint and Jackie and Vera and Leaf and Keri and Zell and Cat and Bird and Jess. They’re all muckers, too.'
Evan, who had been braced for remarks about his new name, found himself the center of a flurry of friendly greetings instead. Evan gave a small smile, feeling suddenly shy. He made short, quiet answers to the questions that came his way but initiated no conversation himself. Everything was completely foreign here. The food tasted strange, there were strange noises, strange animals, strange customs. Even the weather was strange. Suddenly he found himself longing for the quiet, dry Outback. His throat tightened. How long was he going to live here in this strange place with these strange people? He wanted to go home, home with his father and mother and brother and sister. But home was trillions of kilometers and nine hundred years away.
Another chime sounded from everyone’s wristbands. With a groan, the slaves slowly got to their feet.
'Now what?' Evan asked hoarsely.
'There’s another hour of work after supper,' Pup said. 'But we can probably-'
'Pup! Lizard!' called Grace. 'Don’t you think of going anywhere. You’ve had enough of a slack day. We’re adding another bullfrog pond, and you two can help with the landscaping.'
Pup sighed and picked up his bowl. 'So much for that, then. Come on.'
Grace was as good as her word. She set the boys to work with trowels, making the extended fingers of shoreline required by the massive, territorial bullfrogs. The dark earth was wet and heavy, not quite mud, and Evan, who was forced to kneel in it, was soon covered with the stuff. His back and legs quickly became sore, and sweat ran steadily down his back and sides as he piled up long mounds of earth. Even his silvery bands turned black with dirt. Pup and three of the other younger slaves worked in silence next to him. The ever-present frog noises continued.
'You’re one of the new ones, is that right?'
Evan looked up. An older man, perhaps in his late forties, with silvering hair and a fleshy face, stood next to the mud pit.
'Master Varl,' Pup murmured.
'Stand up when a manager addresses you,' Varl snapped.
Evan got to his feet. The other children continued to work diligently.
'What’s your name, kid?' Varl demanded. Like Ting, Varl wore yellow. His clothes were clean, though his feet were as bare and mud-covered as everyone else’s.
'Ev-Lizard,' Evan said, keeping his face stoic.
A shock traveled up Evan’s arm and he dropped his trowel with a cry.
'Lizard what?' Varl said.
'Call him
'Lizard, Master Varl,' Evan said, hating the word.
'You had an easy day today, Lizard,' Varl said. 'Hope you enjoyed it. Tomorrow you’re working your ass off.' And he strode away. Evan watched him go. Then, not knowing what else to do, he returned to work.
A long time later, the wristband chime sounded again. Everyone immediately stopped digging and trouped back to the barn area where they rinsed their feet and hands. By now, the sun was coasting toward the horizon. Pup took Evan into the barn to a tiled room full of showers. Water hissed, and several tired-looking men were already washing off their daily quota of dirt and sweat. A changing area was lined with shelves of clothes and rough-looking towels.
'Throw your dirty clothes in that basket,' Pup instructed. 'Take a shower and get another set of clothes from the shelves. They’re sorted by size. This is the men’s shower, so you don’t have to worry about the girls coming in.'
After showering and dressing-Evan still went barefoot-Pup lead Evan back outside toward the ponds. They sat down under one of the trees amid gathering darkness.
'You’ll want to see this,' was all Pup said.
They sat in companionable silence for a while. The darkness continued in its intensity, completely unlike the streets of light-polluted Sydney. Unfamiliar stars came out, dazzling in their brightness, and again Evan felt homesick for the Outback he had so hated. On Outback walkabout, his family had been with him. He wondered what his mother was doing and if he would be allowed to see her.
Frogs croaked everywhere. The pair of boys leaned back against the scratchy tree trunk, enjoying the feeling of sitting on something that didn’t squish, and suddenly Evan was very glad for Pup’s presence. Pup might be one step above a stranger, but he had been friendly and kind all day. Evan felt an odd urge to reach over and take the other boy’s hand. Disconcerted, he cleared his throat.
'What are we looking at?' he asked.
'Wait a second,' Pup replied. 'It should be-there!'
Out of nowhere, a crowd of round white lights swooped down over the ponds. They circled and dipped and soared, their movements duplicated by their reflections in the water like tiny moons dancing above a roomful of mirrors. After a moment, each one moved to a position about a meter above each pond or swamp, shedding cool silvery light over every leaf and blade of grass.
'What are they?' Evan asked, awed.
'Bug bait,' Pup said, clearly pleased at Evan’s reaction. 'The buggers can’t come up with enough food for all the frogs on their own, so they release the nightlights to lure in more.' He laughed, and Evan found he liked the sound. 'The lights be here for a practical reason, but I think they look nice in the dark. I like to come out and have a look.'
A mosquito whined in Evan’s ear and he slapped at it. Then another one landed on his neck. Pup smacked a shoulder.
'Problem is,' he continued, 'you can’t watch for very long without being eaten alive. Come on.'
They went back to the barn, which Pup said was the slave quarters for unmarried adults and children over eleven, and climbed the ladder up to the men’s loft. Large screened windows kept the insects out and let a cooling
