A Cage of Butterflies (15 page)

EPILOGUE
An End and a Beginning

March 24, 1996, 8.40 pm

“I'm starving.” Susan sipped on a Diet-Coke and stared for the hundredth time out of the window.

“I know. I just wish they'd hurry up. This dinner's going to be ruined if they don't arrive soon.” Erik looked across at his wife and smiled. She certainly didn't look “fifteen months pregnant”, even though she complained about the weight she was gaining. Motherhood suited her.

Suddenly, she smiled. “They're coming. I just saw the lights turn in off the highway.” Finally, she relaxed.

The drive up from Sydney airport was a long one, and Mikki wasn't used to the new car. Susan had tried to get them to buy a “sensible” car, but Greg had always wanted a Porsche, and even though Mikki did all the driving, she never refused him very much that he really wanted. Besides, with the businesses going so well, they had money to burn, and it was the one extravagance she could ever remember from either of them.

“Call the others. The meat's probably like old shoe leather already.”

By the time the car pulled in beside the long veranda of the huge old farmhouse, everyone was seated. The long extension table sat twenty in comfort and it was almost full.

Mikki opened the door, then stepped back to allow Greg through. Even in the bleaching light of the kitchen fluores-cents, they looked tanned and … glowing.

“Welcome home, you two. How was the honeymoon?”

Greg looked at his new wife and grinned. “Beautiful one day, perfect the next … And so was the weather.” They moved across to the table, which filled the huge dining area leading off the kitchen, and took their places. “Still, it's good to be home. There's nothing quite like a family meal.”

Susan, at the end nearest the stove, sat for a moment and looked down the length of the table at her “family”.

Sixteen young people. Sixteen
brilliant
young people.

The baby moved inside her, and she placed a hand gently on her stomach.

Yes, kid, you've got quite a family to look forward to.

Mikki and Greg, Lesley and Gordon, Gretel and Katie and Chris. They'd all grown up so much in the past six years … And changed so very little.

Ian and Rachael, Pep and Ricky. And Myriam. Who had grown so little, but changed so very much. Fourteen years old, they barely looked eight. Chris had calculated their “ageing factor” at “about point six”; which, he suggested, meant that they'd probably live to about 160. “Imagine,” Greg had said, “spending twenty years as a teenager.” Typical!

And Nicholas, Lisa, Benjamin and Judy. The four remaining names hi-lighted on Richard's list. In the months after the “deaths” of the Babies, they had tracked them down and taken them into their rapidly expanding “family”.

And now, kid, with you it's complete.

“Suse, are you all right?”

Suddenly, she realised that she had been staring.

“Oh, yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking.”

“Isn't it a bit late to start trying out new hobbies?” Greg was in good form tonight.

“It's just that we've come so far. And all through the planning, before that night, I never really thought we could pull it off. When Richard died, I felt so alone … so empty. Now, I'm complete.” She wiped her eye with a tissue. “With my family.”

family … itisanother … word for … thesharing.

“Yes, Myri, it is.”

“And speaking of sharing, before we all get too emotional and start hugging each other over the roast beef – which doesn't seem like such a bad idea —” Greg levered himself up. “I would like to offer my congratulations. On the way through from the airport, we stopped off at the accountant's.” He turned to Mikki. “Do you want to tell them, or shall I?”

“Go ahead, I'm still trying to come to terms with it.”

“Okay. Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls … and anyone who doesn't fit any of the above descriptions … with the latest royalty payments on Chris's and the Babies' various patents, the consultancy and trouble-shooting fees and all our various other ventures and inventions, not to mention the twenty dollars Erik won in the lottery last month, Think-Tank Incorporated has just doubled its previous half-yearly profit level. Which, in layman's terms, means that we are now collectively worth about three million dollars, give or take a thousand or two.”

“Funny.” Gretel was studiously dissecting a huge slab of meat, and spoke without looking up. “I don't feel any different.”

Gordon smiled. “What are we going to do with it? The money, I mean. If it keeps on increasing like this, pretty soon we're going to have more than we know what to do with. The last thing we want is to turn into another bloody Raecorp.”

“I've been thinking about that.” Mikki stared into her wineglass, watching the shapes distort in the golden liquid. “When we first came here, we had nothing. We were on the run and looking for a place to hide.
We
all had homes to go to, and Susan had this farm, but the Babies had nowhere. As far as the world knew, they were dead.

“So, we set up ‘Think-Tank Incorporated' as a way of supporting ourselves and this place. Well, it's grown beyond all expectations; people have shown a need for our wide-ranging … expertise. As well as that, we've all – some of us for the first time – become a part of a very special family.” She looked around the table for a moment before continuing.

“Now, I know there's going to be a certain … distancing, as we all make our own lives.” She caught Greg's eye and smiled. “Some of us have already started along that track; and we'll all need to take a share of the profits, enough to make a good life for ourselves and our own children. But I'd like to think we have more than enough to give something back, to fund projects which help other … outsiders. People with special talents or abilities – or special problems. The ones who don't seem to fit in anywhere.

“I'm sure that between us, we can think of a thousand projects which give people dignity and purpose, instead of treating them like inmates or lab-specimens. Everyone has something to offer, if they just get the chance. And we could provide that chance. I'd just like everyone to consider it.”

Looking around the table again, she knew there would be no objection.

“By the way,” Greg was smiling as he spoke. “I just thought you'd all like to hear the latest news on Larsen.”

He paused deliberately and sipped his drink before continuing.

“He's working for us, now.”

“He's
what
?” Lesley sounded less than amused.

“Well, not directly for us. You remember the endangered species regeneration unit we helped set up?”

“For Parks and Wildlife?”

“That's the one. They needed a Head of Research, so I suggested Larsen.”

“Why, for heaven's sake?”

“Because he needed a job. After he recovered from the breakdown, he couldn't get work. Raecorp had blacklisted him – he couldn't find a job cleaning sewers. I figured, what the hell, he couldn't do any harm working with endangered wildlife, and he
is
a first rate research scientist, so I recommended him. Though he'll never know it. And you know, I think he might even find that he likes it.”

Susan laughed out loud. “Greg, you're amazing.”

Slowly, Greg scanned the faces ranged around the long table; his friends, his wife. His special family.

“Aren't we all,” he said.

First published 1992 by University of Queensland Press
PO Box 6042, St Lucia, Queensland 4067 Australia
Reprinted 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1997, 1999, 2000 (twice), 2001, 2002, 2004, 2005, 2008, 2011

www.uqp.com.au

© Brian Caswell

This book is copyright. Except for private study, research, criticism or reviews, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any foram or by any means without prior written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.

Typeset by University of Queensland Press

Reproduction of chorus to “Hammer to Fall” – Mercury/May/Taylor/Deacon. By permission the copyright owners – © 1984 Queen Music Ltd. For Australasia: EMI Music Publishing Australia Pty Ltd.

Cataloguing in Publication Data
National Library of Australia

Caswell, Brian
A Cage of Butterflies

For upper primary and secondary school students.

I. Title.

A823.3

ISBN 9780702224164 (pbk)
ISBN 9780702256660 (pdf)
ISBN 9780702256677 (epub)
ISBN 9780702256684 (kindle)