Sea of Fire

Chapter Forty-Two

Queensland North Rural Fire Brigade Deputy Captain Paul Leyland loved his life.

The brown-eyed Leyland stood on the wide balcony that surrounded the observation tower. He looked out at the world and lives that had been entrusted to him and his team. He felt the way the ancient mythic gods must have felt. They each had a particular responsibility, whether it was war, fertility, the underworld, or the hearth. For Deputy Captain Leyland, there was no greater responsibility than to safeguard this land, its people, and the future of both. And there was no greater reward than doing it well.

Leyland had a bald head that seemed to glow ember-orange in the fast-fading sunlight. Part of that was due to the tautness of his flesh. Part of it was the constant perspiration. Leyland hated hats. Feeling the sun on his bare scalp was one of life's great delights. That was why he preferred to be out here instead of sitting in the tower. There was an old joke about a bald head being a solar panel for the sexually active man. For Leyland, the part about the solar panel was true. The sun gave him life. As for the sweat, he had thick red eyebrows and a woolly mustache to protect his eyes and mouth. He rehydrated himself regularly from a canteen tucked in his utility belt. He used a vintage metal canteen instead of a plastic bottle like the kids who worked with him. Leyland liked the feel and taste of the hot, metallic water whenever he took a drink.

The five-foot-seven-inch former Royal Australian Air Force Maritime Patrol Group pilot had been working for the QNRFB for six of his forty-two years. He had recently passed up a promotion to senior deputy captain because he did not want to go to an office or firehouse. He wanted to stay out here, with his devoted Little Maluka, in the Cairns Observation Tower. Nearly 170 feet in the air, he could see across the Atherton Tableland for limitless kilometers in every direction. The wind from the ocean was as constant as the blazing sun. Leyland could smell a fire before he saw it, even when the wind was blowing against it, which was a good thing. With its rustic farms, volcanic lakes, waterfalls, and rain-forest region, the upland area outside of Cairns was one of the nation's leading tourist attractions. The Kuranda Scenic Railway and the Skyrail Rainforest Cableway carried five times as many passengers each year as all the commuter railroads that served Queensland. Paul Leyland, his live-in crew of two, and Little Maluka were the Kadoovas, as they called themselves. The deranged ones who put the safety of their territory before their own well-being.

The observation tower stood on the top of a 500-foot-high hill. There was a paved, two-lane road and a landing pad for helicopters. The tower itself was made of unvarnished wood. Brick or cinderblock would have been safe from sparks in the event of a fire. But they would have been problematic on the hill. Because of the moisture, the ground was constantly shifting. The mortar would have cracked and left the structure unstable. A metal tower would have become unbearably hot. For Little Maluka and the others, anyway. Leyland could take anything. In fact, the Cairns native relished extremes.

Inside the tower was communication equipment and a two-meter-diameter alidade. The revolving, horizontal disc had a map on its face as well as upright markers for angular measurement. It could see in all directions from the tower. The topographic device was used to pinpoint the exact location of a fire. For Leyland, the alidade was the world in miniature. Looking at it made him feel even more like a god.

The other members of his team, John "Spider" Smolley and Eva Summers, were in the small log cabin at the base of the tower. Little Maluka, their koala mascot, was beside him. Usually he was in his large pen beside the cabin. At sunset, however, he liked to relax on the wind-cooled observation platform. The koala had been badly injured during a blaze and nursed to health. When the small marsupial was well enough to leave, he had decided not to. Why should he? Eva made sure Little Maluka had all the eucalyptus leaves he could eat. Leyland was the one who named him. Maluka was Aborigine for "the chief."

The cabin was air-conditioned, and there was a TV set with a DVD player. The twentysomethings spent most of their time watching television or talking on the radio. But they came to life when they had to. They risked their lives without hesitation. The three of them were usually the first ones on scene, working with volunteers to evacuate residents, construct firebreaks, and coordinate the activities of firefighters who flew in from other areas. Yet neither of Leyland's deputies felt quite as he did. That this land was Heaven and he was Saint Peter. If the red-tongued Devil showed up at their gates, it was a sacred duty to beat him back.

Little Maluka was lying on his soft back beside Leyland's boot. His eyes were shut. There was reddish white scar tissue around his big black nose and on his legs. The grayish fur would probably never grow back there. But that was all right, Leyland thought. It made the little guy look tough. Not that a koala needed to look tough. It had no real enemies here except for men. For centuries, they had hunted koalas for food and fur. Now there were laws to prevent that. The firefighter raised his foot. He touched the animal's exposed belly with his toe. The koala grunted, but he did not open his eyes.

"You're tough, all right," Leyland muttered. "You lazy slushy. Is that how you got hurt? Sleeping while the woods burned?"

"He's not a slushy," a female voice said over the radio.

That was Eva. She was on the main radio in the cabin. Leyland always kept his portable radio open. In an emergency, the second or two it took to turn it on could be decisive.

"You're right. Little Maluka could not work in a kitchen," Leyland replied. "At least kitchen help does the dishes. This boy doesn't do anything except purr like a fat cat."

"When the RFB starts a koala brigade, he'll be the first to enlist — hold on," she said, interrupting herself. "I have incoming."

Small, high-powered binoculars hung from Leyland's neck. He snatched them up and did a quick walk around the tower. If someone was calling in a fire, he might be able to spot it. He saw nothing.

"Captain, I'm putting the call through to you," Eva said.

"What is it?" Leyland pulled the radio from his belt. He put the cupped upper half against his ear. It was shielded so that he could hear if he were in a chopper or a loud roaring fire.

"I don't know what this is," she said. "They won't tell me."

"Who won't tell you?"

"They won't tell me that either," she replied.

"Better not be a smoodger," Leyland said.

"He doesn't sound like he's kidding," Eva assured her commander. "Here he is."

While Leyland waited, he stuck out his lower lip and blew perspiration from his mustache. It was something he did when he was annoyed. He was not accustomed to getting secret calls. He scanned the canopy of trees to the northwest. Fires occasionally started in the campground there.

"Captain Leyland?" the caller asked.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"Warrant Officer George Jelbart, Maritime Intelligence Centre," the caller replied.

"Is there a situation?" Leyland pressed. The man was calling from a helicopter. He could hear the sound in the radio.

"There isn't a fire, if that's what you're asking," Jelbart replied.

Leyland relaxed. He lowered the binoculars.

"But we do have a situation," the officer went on. "We are coming in to discuss it with you."

"We?" Leyland asked.

"We'll discuss it when we arrive," Jelbart said. "We should reach the helicopter pad in about fifteen minutes. We'd like clearance."

"What kind of bird are you flying?"

"A Bell 204," Jelbart told him.

"There's room for you. You're cleared," Leyland informed him.

"We checked that before we left," Jelbart replied. "Thanks for the backup, though."

The caller clicked off. Leyland replaced the unit in his belt. It automatically switched back to base-audio. He was intrigued by the call but also frustrated. Leyland hated being in the dark about anything. He would have pressed for information, but he also disliked wasted effort. If the warrant officer had wanted Leyland to know more, he would have told him more.

"Eva, have Spider climb up to keep an eye on things," Leyland said. "I'm going to the helipad."

"Right away," she said after giving Spider the order. "What's going on?"

"We're having guests," Leyland replied. "Intelligence chaps from the Aussie navy."

"Sounds important," Eva said. "Is it?"

"When was the last time anyone visited who was not with the RFB?" Leyland asked.

"Never, in the three years I've been here," she replied.

"And not in the six years I've been here," Leyland said as he started down the ladder in the center of the tower.

"I don't follow," she said.

"No one comes out here if it isn't important," Leyland said.