The Knowledge Keeper

1 - Messenger

The figure appeared between blinks.

My boot hit the pedal. Massive brake pads grabbed heavy-duty axles. Metal screamed as the huge rods decelerated from one thousand to zero revolutions per minute.

Six tractor tyres crunched to a halt, and the powerful electric engine subsided into silence.

The man hadn't moved. The headlights reflected off the white paint striping his dark skin, a luminous skeleton in the middle of the road in the middle of the desert, mere metres from the Bus's bumper. The ever-present easterly breeze whirled the dust around him.

"Unexpected obstruction ahead," said the Bus computer.

Slowly, I unpeeled my fingers from the steering wheel. If I hadn't known better, I'd have suspected the voice assistant program – I refused to classify it as an 'artificial intelligence' – had developed comedic timing.

"Where are we?" I asked, climbing from the driver's seat without taking my gaze from the man.

"Seven hundred and forty-two road kilometres from New Pearth Library," the computer said.

I resisted the sigh. "Closest Settlement?"

"Nearest recorded location of human habitation is our current destination, Stokes, which is still one hundred and nineteen road kilometres from this point."

Watching the man, I mentally riffled through the rumours I'd heard at the last Settlement. There had been a few new stories about Aboriginal apparitions in the desert haze, or shadows sneaking through the night. None had stood up to gentle, careful questioning, but it was enough to start joining some of the dots – including those on the man's face and torso.

As I backed out of the cockpit, the figure lazily crossed his arms. It wasn't impatient; it was a signal that he'd stand there all night and all day, if needed.

"Thermal scan, please," I said.

"No other human heat signatures detected."

"Electromagnetic?"

A brief pause. "Two electronic devices detected."

"Where?"

As I reversed into the main cabin, the computer activated the workscreen, displaying the spooky infrared scans of the landscape on all sides. The man's eyes were white dots, the cooler paint inversed to dark grey against his warm skin. Superimposed on his image were two blue icons.

"One signal consistent with telecommunications technology." The blue spot highlighting the man's hip flared briefly. "One unidentified." The other spot, apparently hovering in the air beside the man, blinked.

"Mini drone?" I asked, peering down the aisle to the windscreen. Now the dust had cleared, there was no movement near the man.

"Negative. Triangulation suggests the signal is approximately one hundred metres ahead at ground level."

My perspective shifted. The dot was on a rise in the road far beyond the man, not at his shoulder. The Bus's powerful headlights, split in half by his stretched shadow, just reached it.

"Hmm. I'd better go see what he wants." My voice was calm, but my pulse was accelerating.

"Protocol indicates the Keeper should utilise the external communication system in this situation," droned the computer. "Risk of ambush is at twenty-three percent."

"Maybe he just wants a bookprint to read." I took the protective vest from its hook and slipped it on over my grey uniform. "But to soothe your circuits, activate System Lock."