Free Prohibited Zone by Alastair Sarre Page A

gulf, spewing steam and coal dust into the air; the north wind was blowing it all to Adelaide. We crossed the railway line that fed the power station with outback coal.
    â€˜Have fun in there?’ I asked.
    â€˜Not exactly.’
    â€˜Who did the questioning?’
    â€˜An Adelaide cop called Pinchbeck and a federal cop whose name I forget. There was another guy, too, the guy you thought was CIA, but he didn’t say anything.’
    â€˜I don’t suppose you said much, either?’
    â€˜Not much. Nothing important. They said they knew we’d picked up Saira, although how they knew I don’t know. I just denied it. I hope you did, too.’
    â€˜Are you going to tell me what all this is about?’
    â€˜I already told you.’
    â€˜I don’t think you’ve told me everything.’
    â€˜For example?’
    I snorted. ‘That pretty little Saira is the consort of a suspected al-Qaeda terrorist. For example.’
    â€˜Oh, that.’ I waited for her to elaborate but she was silent, staring diffusely at the highway ahead. I couldn’t tell whether she was dreaming up a story to tell me or deciding how much of the truth to let out, or if she had her mind on something else altogether.
    â€˜I think I have a right to know,’ I said.
    â€˜I beg your pardon?’
    â€˜I said I think I have a right to know. I’ve lied to police, for Christ’s sake. I could go to jail for that. I even took a king hit for you. Can you see the bruise?’ I took my hand off the wheel to touch the lump on my head. She leant across and peered at it, parting my hair with reasonably gentle fingers to get a better view.
    â€˜That’s a beauty,’ she said. ‘Who did it?’
    â€˜An arsehole called Hindmarsh. The guy at Spuds you thought was ASIO.’
    â€˜Was he?’
    â€˜He didn’t say. I assume so.’
    She finished her inspection. ‘You should put some ice on it,’ she said, yawning. The road stretched out ahead, the traffic heavier now that we were south of Port Augusta, which meant we passed an oncoming vehicle about every minute or so. We had a strong tailwind but I kept to the speed limit; I didn’t want to see any more cops today. To the west, Spencer Gulf was a shimmering blue. To the east, a long, jagged chain of hills undulated against the horizon.
    â€˜Is he a terrorist?’ I asked.
    â€˜I doubt it,’ she said. ‘She’s not his consort, either. That’s such an old-fashioned word, anyway. He looks after her. Has done since she was a little girl. He was the one who helped her escape Afghanistan.’
    â€˜How do you know he isn’t also screwing her?’
    â€˜Because he isn’t. Trust me on that.’
    â€˜Why not? I’ve trusted you on everything else so far, despite having no reason to trust you at all.’
    â€˜She’s really quite an extraordinary young woman, you know.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜You wouldn’t believe what she’s gone through. She’s incredibly resilient, incredibly strong.’
    I moved into the right lane to overtake a Commodore towing a caravan with a Victorian number plate – the grey nomads from last night, probably heading home. No doubt their friends and family were eagerly awaiting the PowerPoint evenings.
    â€˜She needed to be,’ said Kara. ‘Strong, I mean. You wouldn’t believe what goes on in the detention centre. You know there are women there who are sewing their lips together? I saw one ten-year-old boy with cuts and bruises all over his face. His mother told me he had been headbutting a door jamb. I’ve seen kids eating rocks and their own shit. Every child has mental problems. Saira’s been there nearly two years, with no end in sight.’
    â€˜So she decided to speed up the process.’
    â€˜Can you blame her? When the Minister of Fucking Immigration sits on his fat arse in Canberra and says that the