Polly Pippin and The Tunnel of Death by Sarah Godwin Winter

their love of the bush. Some
of the younger and more adventurous half Freeflyers were learning
how to fly in formation, and they often collided, much to the
amusement of the Elders.
    'Gud-day, Bro,' a deep, gravelly voice
seemed to come from nowhere.
    Event put out his hand and grabbed the hand
of Half Freeflyer Alkira from Wurdi Youang. As they clasped each
other, Alkira gave the ritual handshake.
    'Any sign of the bad 'uns?' the black face
said.
    'No, not a glimpse,' Event returned. 'I've
scanned the horizon for the past twenty-four hours and
nothing.'
    Flying low, they followed Alkira to the
Freeflyers' camp, which was hidden deep in the Aussie bush. They
arrived to a volley of cheers. As they crowded round, Event counted
how many Freeflyers and Diggers were in the camp, approximately
fifty, he thought,
    They shook hands with as many men as they
could and walked through the crowd with pats on the back, and 'good
man!' Alkira, Event and Salute eventually reached the Elders' hut.
They sat round with the Chief Elder telling him the most recent
news.
    'Even though there is always an undercurrent
of non-acceptance between, and even within countries,' said Alkira,
'nothing as bad as this has happened before.'
    'True, but only by the minority, most of
whom would be Rebels,' Event said. Before he could say another
word, a harsh voice was heard, a voice Event and Salute recognised.
They disappeared in a flash of lightning.
    'Enough talk,' the Chief Elder said. 'It's
time for action.' There was a rustle in the scrub, and out emerged
Commander Rekrap followed by a dozen or so Rebel warriors. The
fight was on. And, even though, the Freeflyers were totally
outnumbered, they captured all but the Commander and his second in
charge. They ran away when the going got too rough.
    Hamish the Pilot
    Hamish worked for Air-Ice. It was his job to
ferry scientists and environmentalists round the North Pole. It was
dangerous work, and sometimes they came back one man less than went
out. They were always short-staffed, and rather than sit in the
comfort of a warm cabin, most times, even though he did not have
to, Hamish went out to help.
    The flight over had no passengers - just
Hamish and the co-pilot. The plane was only carrying much-needed
new equipment. Hamish settled down for the long flight. The weather
forecast was good, so it was going to be an easy flight. He
switched on autopilot, left the co-pilot in charge and went to the
kitchen to get a bite to eat. He pottered round, made a tomato
sandwich and a cup of coffee, walked into the loading area to
relax, and nearly died of fright.
    'Good afternoon Hamish. We finally
meet.'
    Hamish stared at something that looked like
a warrior who had stepped out of a comic. A shiny silver helmet
covered his long, wavy hair, and two golden wings lay flat along
each side of his head. The man, if that is what it was, towered
over Hamish, his blood-red cloak falling to the floor.
    'Who the bloody hell are you? And how did
you get on board?' Hamish commanded.
    'I'm Commander Pope from the Dark Universe,
Hamish, and that's no way to speak to your passengers. Where are
your manners?'
    'You're not a passenger! You're a stowaway,
and you are under arrest!' Hamish shouted for his co-pilot.
    'I'm afraid he can't help you… probably
because he is on his way back to Earth. Fell out, silly man.'
    Hamish started to make his way back to the
cockpit.
    'I suggest you settle down, or you will join
your friend.' The Commander smiled, an icy smile, and although
Hamish was not impressed, he stopped and turned back.
    'What have you done with my co-pilot, you
devil? And who are you?' he shouted.
    'You're a Freeflyer, Hamish. You should
know.'
    Hamish thought back to what Ape had told him
after the party: 'You are an Uninitiated Freeflying Omniscient,
Hamish, along with your sister and cousin.'
    'My men have taken over this flight Hamish,'
the Rebel Warrior continued.
    'Over my dead body,' Hamish retorted.
    'Probably,' said the