Part 7 (1/2)
”What about CHMRA PRJCT CHMRA PRJCT?”
”Something project. Chim, cham, chem, chom, chum. Where's your dictionary?”
It was five to eight by the time they found the word.
”Chimera! That's the only word that fits.” Rebecca p.r.o.nounced it slowly. ”Kymererah.” That's the only word that fits.” Rebecca p.r.o.nounced it slowly. ”Kymererah.”
”What does it mean?”
Rebecca looked, and frowned. ”In Greek mythology, it's a monster with a lion's head, a goat's body, and a serpent's tail.”
Tane blanched, remembering the SOS. ”I don't like the sound of that!”
”Wait, in biology, it means an organism formed by grafting tissues or splicing genes from two or more different organisms.”
”Chimera Project. Stop it. We are supposed to stop the Chimera Project. That's what this whole thing is about.” Tane frowned. ”I'm starting to wish they'd sent the message to someone else.”
”We sent the message, according to you. Who else were we going to send it to?”
Tane's watch said seven fifty-seven. ”Better turn the TV on,” he said, and did so.
Rebecca was still examining the message. ”We have to buy a 'SUB EON TLS,' whatever that is, and don't go to the 'MST.' Mast, mest, mist, most, must. Don't go in the...”
”Masterton,” said Tane brightly. ”Don't go to Masterton!”
”Okay,” Rebecca said, ”and the last bit is easy. 'Don't tell anyone.'”
The live, televised Lotto draw came on the TV, and Tane turned the sound up. He could hardly breathe. If the numbers were the same...What if they weren't? Then again, from the cryptic clues in the last message, maybe they'd be better off if they weren't! Then again, from the cryptic clues in the last message, maybe they'd be better off if they weren't!
Rebecca and Tane sat on the couch to watch the short program, the original crumpled piece of paper on the coffee table in front of them. The numbers stared back at them: 8, 11, 22, 32, 39, 40, 3.
”What time is your mum coming home tonight?” Rebecca asked idly during the theme tune and preamble.
”Not till after eleven. Why?”
His dad was away in the bush, and his mum was out at some community council meeting.
”No reason,” Rebecca said quietly.
Tane dragged his attention away from the screen and looked at her. He asked thoughtfully, ”How's your mum? Will she be okay on her own tonight?”
”She's fine. Stop worrying.”
Tane stopped worrying, but only because the Lotto hostess, elegant and sophisticated in a long blue gown, came on and started talking. Her blond hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her smile was wide and toothy.
After an interminable introduction, the overly effusive hostess started the barrel rolling, and the Lotto b.a.l.l.s began to tumble.
He barely felt Rebecca's hand slip into his. She was scarcely breathing.
The first number out was thirty-two.
”We've got that! We've got that!” Tane yelled.
Rebecca still wasn't breathing.
The second number was eleven.
”We've got that too! It is this week's draw! It is this week's draw!”
The next number rolled down the slope from the barrel and Tane froze.
”Thirty-six? Thirty-six?” He screamed, ”It can't be thirty-six!”
The ball stopped rolling. The Lotto hostess announced, ”Thirty-nine.”
Rebecca collapsed against Tane.
He said, ”Thirty-nine. It looked funny when it was rolling. It was a thirty-nine.”
Rebecca didn't reply. She hadn't breathed since the start of the show. She finally took a breath after the next number, though. Eight. By that stage it was just a formality.
Forty. Twenty-two.
He didn't even bother watching the bonus numbers and found to his great surprise that he was hugging Rebecca, and she was hugging him.
The Powerball Jackpot had been sitting at $6,325,450 by the time the Lotto booths had closed at seven o'clock that evening.
It was almost anticlimactic seeing the three ball come wobbling up the little tube.
”We proved it. Messages through time. It's the scientific discovery of the century!” Rebecca breathed out slowly, and added almost as an afterthought, ”And we're rich!”
”No.” Tane shook his head. ”Not yet. At the moment, we've got nothing. Fatboy is the rich one. Let's see if he does the right thing.”
Rebecca nodded. ”He will. But now that we know it really works, we've got the important stuff to discuss.”
Tane knew what she meant. That was one thing his mind kept coming back to again and again. This wasn't a get-rich-quick scheme.
It was a cry for help.
EVENSONG Sunday was a good day. A day of celebration. Rebecca stayed over in the guest room, and Tane's mum made French toast for breakfast. A day of celebration. Rebecca stayed over in the guest room, and Tane's mum made French toast for breakfast.