e-mail or Internet transaction that travels through the south pacific skies. But who can listen to all that?’
‘Computers in that building there filter the whole lot for keywords. Every time a phrase or word triggers a match the conversations or messages are recorded.’ Aimee handed Matt the notes that Warren had given them. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about. I find it hard to believe that New Zealand would be involved in something like that.’
‘It’s a US operated base, in cooperation with the NISO. Some worldwide project called Echelon.’ Matt said, continuing to explain with the aid of the notes. ‘Although that’s denied by the NISO. Actually, by practically everyone.’
Aimee reached for her camera and took a couple of photos of the base.
‘I’ve seen enough, let’s just call it paranoia and get going to Kaikoura. I want some of that famous fresh seafood for lunch.’
The idea of a good lunch was enough to encourage Matt’s lips to turn up in to something resembling a smile. He turned the car and started down the road. As he passed a driveway on the left he recognised a familiar black Corolla that was parked behind the shelterbelt.
‘Looks like your friend’s still with us,’ Aimee said, the sarcasm clear in her voice.
‘I don’t get it. Unless he never lets us out of his sight, how does he still know where we are? Oh, speaking of which, I should turn the GPS back on.’
Matt pulled off to the side of the road and leaned over to press the power button on the GPS. A little smile decorated his lips. It took perseverance to not say anything to Aimee, but Matt had just realised where Hemi was getting his information from. It would also be a relief to not have to tell Warren that he had damaged his GPS. Miraculously, the scratch by the power button was gone. Matt worked up a plan; he needed to casually feed information to Hemi for it to work.
‘So after Kaikoura, how far will we drive today before stopping for the night?’
‘Christchurch.’
‘Where they had the earthquakes, right?’
‘Yeah. Brave lot. We had a pretty big one in Whakatane when I was a kid. Scared the living crap out of me. We had a lot of quakes there.’
Matt finished punching it in the GPS.
‘Alright. I’ve got it in the Navigon. Let’s get us to that lunch.
He pulled the car back out onto the road and turned off towards Kaikoura. In his mirror, Matt confirmed that Hemi stuck with them. Matt was going to revel in every minute of his cunning.
Hemi watched as Matt and Aimee drove past. He saw Matt look his way again. He felt sick to his stomach. His heart pounded through his chest. He couldn’t believe where he had just watched Matt and Aimee go. His boss would be furious. Beyond furious. Hemi just wouldn’t tell him. But that wasn’t the worst of it. It had been a torturous drive this far. Having to listen to the pain that Matthew Cameron was suffering at the loss of his father brought too many bad memories. It was all Hemi could do to keep driving. Hating Warren Rennie was nothing new, but realising he was capable of murder was something else altogether. Hemi tried to minimise the emotions he faced by telling himself it hadn’t happened, despite being convinced it had. Even so, it wasn’t the same as his father being killed, because Matt’s father had been at deaths door. Hemi had seen the medical records. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise.
He waited for the Mazda to almost leave his line of sight before pulling out of the driveway where he had been waiting. He knew he didn’t have to hide himself and of course since he listened in on their conversations through his GPS bug he also knew where they were headed. In fact, the bug had been revealing in more ways than just where they were going. Hemi learnt a lot about New Zealand history. He had only once heard the story of a pre-Tasman ship being seen by Maori. That was in school. But now Hemi was being immersed in a fascinating world where the Spanish perhaps found New Zealand before the Dutch or British. He found himself rooting for Matt and Aimee, actually hoping they would find the evidence they needed to prove the theory once and for all. At the end of the road, he turned right in the direction of Kaikoura, keeping within a 500m range of his prey. Kaikoura was a logical lunch stop. He hoped they picked somewhere where he could get some fresh crayfish. Hemi loved nothing more than a good fresh cray.
The coastline between Blenheim and Kaikoura was rugged and stunning. Matt constantly had to drag his eyes back to the road to prevent an accident. But no matter how many times he scolded himself for being irresponsible, he found himself looking out at the rocks and rough seas. He also found himself wondering about the Maori place names and asked Aimee what Rakautara meant as he saw a sign whizz by.
‘No idea,’ Aimee answered. ‘They didn’t teach us anything like that at school. We only learned some token words here and there. Words for apple, house, food, family. Stuff like that. I could never string together a single sentence in Maori.’
‘That’s a bit sad isn’t it? Shouldn’t you try to maintain such a unique language?’
‘Nowadays there’s more emphasis on it, they even have rules about how much Te Reo has to appear in local TV.’
They passed a large billboard advertising a hotel in Kaikoura, apparently just minutes away.
‘I can tell you what Kaikoura means though. Kai is the Maori word for food and Koura is the word for crayfish. Kaikoura basically means the place of eating crayfish. Stacks of them around.’
Matt read another billboard as they went past. ‘You can go whale watching and swimming with dolphins too?’
‘The Whale Watching is owned and operated by a Maori tribe,’ Aimee said. ‘The Ngai Tahu tribe was awarded a large amount of land, some businesses and the usage rights a while back. They’ve established a very successful industry out of it all.’
‘Awarded? In what way?’ Matt asked.
‘As redress. Basically, some people don’t think the treaty of Waitangi was fair. Several Maori tribes have claimed that they were not present at the signing of the treaty, therefore their land cannot have been given over to English sovereignty. The government set up a tribunal to settle claims from the Maori. The Ngai Tahu claimed back many parts of the South Island and were given redress in the form of a lot of land and businesses in the tourism sector. Now they do whale watching, jet-boating, scenic boat trips, the works. They even own some police stations and council buildings.’
‘They’ve done well for themselves then.’
‘Indeed. Which is why some disillusioned folk, who call themselves the Clan of Truth, dream up theories of a pre-Maori discovery of New Zealand so that they can claim the land back.’
‘Clan, as in Celts, the Celtic theories?’ Matt asked, cringing. ‘Surely that wouldn’t work to their advantage though?’
‘Of course not. It’s a fool’s dream. They can no better prove that they’re the rightful owners than the Maori can today. Even if the Celts were first, where is the bloodline? The land would of course go back into Crown or Government ownership if the theory was proven. Which makes you wonder why the government would want to hinder research into such a theory.’
‘Good point, the Government stands to win, at least in the property stakes.’
‘It doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. The Clan of Truth may occasionally bring an interesting idea to the table, but they damage their credibility by injecting blatant racism and religious rot through their work. Anyone with a sense of balance in debate steers clear of them.’
‘Well, we’ll have to steer clear of the whale watching too. We don’t have time for that.’ Matt laughed, breaking the tension. ‘We can definitely spare a few minutes to find some fresh seafood for lunch though.’
He drove the car into the main street of town and found a parking spot. They went by foot around a few local eateries and settled on a place with some outdoor seating that offered a view over the coastline. Both of them ordered the fish of the day with chips. Crayfish couldn’t tempt them, it seemed. But then, Matt didn’t really have an appetite at all. He was too busy chewing over what Aimee had been saying. Some disturbing ideas came into his head, but Matt knew he was being silly. Warren wasn’t that disillusioned. Matt put his paranoia aside and stuffed a handful of piping hot chips in his mouth.
