"Look, Mum! A ship!"
The four-year girl points to the sea and jumps in front of the woman in the light brown dress, who just looks at the enormous floating castle.
"Look, Mum! A ship!"
"Look, Mum! A ship!"
"Look, Mum! A ship!"
Many children follow suit, jumping and pointing to the sea.
"What's that?", a five-year boy asks, pointing to the sky.
"It is a helicopter", a ten-year boy explains. "It..."
"IS CONTROLLED BY EVIL ROBOTS WHO CAME TO KILL US ALL!", a teen girl bellows running towards the children with her arms outstretched.
The children spread out running, followed by their parents.
BLL-EEP, BLL-EEP, BLL-EEP, BLL-EEP...
At the foot of the high peek, a tall tree stands. Leafless and blackened, it probably died during last eruption; however, it still keeps a last branch with a peeled wire hanging, as though it were plugged to the ceiling of the nearby cave. Within the cave, the cable creeps through the ceiling, covered in an isolating resin, until reaching a series of bulbs and coils on a mossy table.
"It's a transmission", the green-eyed woman announces after removing the headphones from her carrot hair. "Apparently coming from one of the foreign vehicles".
The short bearded man behid her takes the rodent from the wheel and stands up. Th lights go off.
"I did not think they would come so quickly", he says with a gruffy voice as they both go outside. "What do they say?"
She gives him the paper with the transcription:
NOT_CE: AIR ___RATIONS A_N D_K_ OTTO REQUESTS BAND SIGNALS FROM CAL_SCIA AIR TRA___C C_NTROL FOR _M_RG__CY HEL___PTER DEPLOYMENTS.
IF NO RESP_NSE REC____D WITHIN _ HOURS A_N DUKE OTTO WILL ESTA__ISH _M__G__CY AIR __AFFIC CONT__L T_ COO_DI__T_ ALL AIR VEH_CLES.
"We should tell the Wisest immediately!", she exclaims.
"And get put into prison for private crafting?", he growls, "You know our radio station is clandestine, don't you?"
"There's no legal radio station", she argues, "Even the Wisest does not have one!"
"They'll find a way to know", he asserts with a low voice.
Conscript Haloola stands firm on the spot, her eyes fixed on the approaching ships.
"They are not going to get here on those vessels", she mutters, "only shallow draft rafts can get to the beach".
"And boats", Conscript Kwon dryly utters behind her, his hand resting near the banana-leaf sling that hangs from his flax belt.
Tupu-tupu-tupu-tupu-tupu-tupu...
Five of the six conscripts look up at the source of noise, their faces a mix of awe and fear. Conscript Kown still stares at the distant ships with the pair of cold black lines he has got as eyes.
Conscript Haloola laughs.
"They're going to land on the island!", she exclaims. "Hey, over here!", she shouts, jumping with her big eyes gazing at the helicopter, making ample movements with her arms to call the pilot's attention.
The rest of the conscripts shrugh and follow suit.
"Over here!"
"Over here!"
"Over here!"
"Over here!"
Reluctantly, Conscript Kwon lifts his eyes from the ship and stares at the flying object.