occasionally heard mention of the alternative history theories in official study material.’ She wiggled her legs. Perhaps trying to avoid DVT, Matt thought. ‘It’s something that’s only ever denied in official circles.’
‘And in unofficial circles?’
‘It interests me. I’ve never looked deeply into any of the theories, but I’m aware of half a dozen or so. One day I may even take the time to research one or two of them. But I haven’t had any real call to until now.’
‘Half a dozen? I didn’t realise there was so many ideas out there.’
‘For sure, every madman and his dog has a theory of alternative history and a couple of pretty sane people have one too.’
‘And what are the ‘madman’ theories then?’
‘Maybe it’s a bit strong to say a ‘madman’ theory. It’s rather a case of some people that support them being too… keen.’
‘How so?’
‘Take for example the theory that the Celts discovered New Zealand,’ Aimee said. ‘You should like that one.’
She had no idea. It was a perfect place for her to start. Matt wanted as much info as he could get.
‘The idea that Celts discovered New Zealand centuries prior to the Maori has been around for a while. Some farmers to the north of Auckland, on the Kaipara Harbour, found some large stones that they decided — in their professional opinion — were megalithic monuments. Henges and circles.’
‘So why haven’t I heard of these?’ Matt lied, remembering all of the conversations he had with Warren about New Zealand’s standing stones.
‘Probably because they’ve never been taken seriously by anyone with a qualification,’ Aimee said, ‘the whole situation is confounded by some of the people that stand behind the theory. Some of the supporters go way beyond what’s appropriate.’
‘Ah, the madmen.’ Matt laughed. ‘What is it exactly that they do wrong?’
‘The main problem is their approach to it all offends too many sensitivities. One or two groups even run big websites spouting their theories all over the place. That would be OK in itself, but the content of the websites is often overtly racist against the Maori. They suggest that Maori are impure and inferior, that God will smite them for their evil ways. They accuse the Maori of blocking access to the sites they want to study and think the government helps to cover it up. Political correctness.’
‘But what do they have to gain from proving their theory, why are they so stubborn?’ Matt asked.
‘Money.’
Matt was about to ask how a change in the history of New Zealand could possibly provide some sort of payout to these theorists, but just as he opened his mouth, dinner arrived.
‘Chicken or Beef?’
‘Chicken’ Aimee said.
The steward passed a foil covered tray over Matt to Aimee.
‘Mine’s the beef,’ Matt said.
The moment had passed and so Matt and Aimee made small talk as they ate. Matt intended to continue where they left off after dinner but when he returned from a post-dinner bathroom trip, he saw Aimee’s head sandwiching a pillow to the window. He would never disturb someone who could actually manage to get sleep in one of these tin cans, so he popped his headphones on and resolved to finding out more in the morning.
Relaxing in his seat and staring at, but not seeing, the images moving past on the little screen in front of him, Matt wondered what he had got himself into. Clearly, Aimee and other historians in New Zealand didn’t give much credit to the theory of Celts being the first inhabitants of New Zealand, yet here he was going there to study it. Matt wasn’t sure if he might be setting himself up for an embarrassing fall. He knew of other academics who had made the mistake of supporting unpopular theories and didn’t want to suffer the same fate as they had. Conversely, he may also be able to prove something here. What Aimee didn’t know is that Warren had found tangible evidence of the Celts having been in New Zealand. At least that’s what Warren had said on the phone and Matt knew with certainty Warren was genuine. It would be an interesting, if not exciting, few weeks.
Two hours before arrival in Singapore, Matt was roused from his film by the cabin lights coming on. It was officially morning in the aircraft, and everyone should slowly wake up to the smell of coffee brewing and breakfast coming up the aisle. Matt watched Aimee as she stretched her hips forwards, forming a light arch with her body. Her eyes still closed, she brushed a few strands of her beautiful golden brown hair away from her face and yawned. He was impressed that she could sleep for a solid seven hours while on a flight. It would be a dream for him to be able to sleep on a plane, but no matter how often he had tried, it never worked. He was wired now. Two and a half films on a tiny screen will do that to you. Even worse, he knew that he would get to see a few more before he finally slept in New Zealand.
‘Morning,’ Matt said, in as bubbly a voice as he could raise, having not spoken for an eternity.
‘Morning.’ Aimee echoed his words and followed them with a sleepy yawn.
Matt made another obligatory trip to the back of the plane and Aimee followed suit. It would be nice to be able to go without toilet stops for twelve hours, Matt thought, as he smiled uncomfortably at all the folk who watched him squeezing through the aisle. At least the walk back to his seat didn’t present him with so many watchful eyes, but he felt them on his back. A few minutes later, Aimee returned looking refreshed and wide awake. Breakfast followed shortly behind. Matt grabbed at the coffee and gulped it down.
‘Thirsty?’ Aimee asked, laughing.
‘I can’t sleep on these things. If it weren’t for the coffee, I’d look even worse right now.’
‘You don’t look so bad.’
‘Thanks.’ Matt felt himself blushing. She looked damned good too. A response failing him, Matt decided now was as good a time as any to continue last night’s conversation.
‘I was thinking about what you said last night, before dinner came. You mentioned a half a dozen theories. Aside from the Celts, what other theories are there?’
‘Some are more questions than theories,’ Aimee said, as she chewed on some scrambled egg. If Matt’s breakfast was anything to go by, hers was also rubbery and flavourless.
‘Like?’
‘Like the Tamil Bell,’ Aimee said. ‘A missionary, Colenso, found a bell that was being used as a cooking pot by some Maori. It was eighteen hundred thirty-odd when he found it. The Maori said they’d been using it for many generations. Scientists studied it and say it’s a ship’s bell. It has Tamil script embossed in it. Nobody knows how or when it got to New Zealand.’
‘Is on display somewhere?’
‘I think it’s at Te Papa Museum in Wellington. The national museum.’
‘That’s a shame. I doubt I’m going far from Auckland. What else has there been?’
‘Another Brit published a whole tome on how the Chinese discovered the western world, New Zealand included.’
‘You mean Gavin Menzies?’
‘You know him?’
‘I’ve heard about his book, but I didn’t realise New Zealand was in there.’
‘For sure. He goes into quite a bit of detail about New Zealand. Evidence of his Chinese discovery in New Zealand includes some buried Junks, the Chinese boats, and the Moeraki Boulders.’
‘The mow racky boulders?’ Matt asked, looking confused. He thrust in another mouthful so he could eat while she answered.
‘The Moeraki Boulders,’ Aimee said, ‘large, round boulders that lie embedded in a sandy beach north of Dunedin, in the South Island. Scientists say they were formed, over millions of years, under the ocean. Then they were slowly exposed by erosion. They’re popular with tourists.’
‘How does that relate to the Chinese then?’
‘Menzies reckons the Chinese were beached at Moeraki and needed to lighten their load. So they threw their ballast, large round stones, overboard on the beach. Chinese ballast equals Moeraki Boulders.’
‘Sound s a bit of a stretch. It would be fun to see them and make an opinion for myself. Not that I’m one to argue with science.’
