Moon Disaster

A new direction

The year is 2032, and we are now several years into another global financial crisis; Australia has not been as severely affected as other countries around the world, but it still affects how we live and our future direction. Newspapers don't exist now; they are only available online. I realised this could be the direction for me as I could have a go-anywhere business requiring only me and a computer and very little outlay. My name is Justin Harris, and I started an online news and events business targeting outback Australia five months ago. Initially, I advertised on radio stations throughout these areas, informing them of what I had to offer. I also advised my readers that I would pay for newsworthy stories to add to my general outback news and events items. I don't have a journalism background but have a good understanding of the outback life. I have worked in many fields, from fencing in my younger years to shearing, droving cattle and cane cutting.

I started driving road trains, then built up a fleet over fifteen years, then I sold the business as it was getting me down with the never-ending problems with staff and rules and regulations; alcohol is the biggest downfall with drivers in these remote locations. The police target them with random roadblocks, breath testing and looking for drugs, and these smelly cattle road trains are not the sort of thing you want to go over closely, so the search for drugs is always rushed.
I had one driver Brett Patterson who we all called Banjo; he was a loyal employee for over three years. I thought he was clean and a great operator until he was arrested and charged as a drug courier. At his trial, I discovered he had links to outlaw motorcycle gangs. He distributed drugs for them in my trucks regularly and had done so for at least two years.
He is now doing a long stretch in jail and has lost everything he worked for, which amounted to quite a lot as it was taken from him in legal costs and fines.

After selling the business, I moved from Roma to Brisbane five years ago and was at the stage of life again for a new direction, and I always loved a challenge. I spent two years travelling around Australia and abroad, and during that time, I had a lot of time to think about a new direction. My time overseas made me realise that, indeed, Australia indeed was a lucky country; it's not hard to understand just why so many boat people risk all to get here. Australia is a big country, but it is mostly desert and not suited to a large population. We need to be aware that we can soon destroy our fragile lifestyle. One of the first responses to my advertising for newsworthy stories was an email from Alan Gilbert, a grazier out west of Quilpie in Queensland. Alan's message came in late on a Friday night, and in the statement, Alan said he was an amateur Astronomer.

He was pretty excited about just seeing a bright flash on the Moon. He said it must have been an enormous explosion as it was somewhat visible to the naked eye. I checked all other news stories to see if there were any other reports of this event after reading his email, but there were not.
It was after 11.30 pm, and I went outside to look at the moon, but as the sky was overcast and the moon wasn't visible, I then retired for the night, thinking it was a hoax. Following morning reports were coming in from around the world of this moon event, so it was pretty exciting for me to be the first to be informed in Australia.
I rang Alan first thing on Saturday morning and only got a message through to him and asked him to call me. He rang me back that evening and explained he only got mobile phone coverage on one hill on his property where he went each night.

We talked about his discovery, and Alan was excited to be the first to report it, so I made an appointment to see Alan and booked the first flight I could, which was to Charleville, about four hours away from his property. I hired a car and drove to Quilpie, I arrived late in the afternoon and went to the Hotel, and I asked where I could get accommodation for the night.
The barmaid said there was not much available as there were a lot of road workers in town due to the state of the roads from the past wet years. She said try Ray at the caravan park; that's your best shot, she gave me directions, and I headed off after downing an ice-cold beer.
The caravan park was just down the road, and I was surprised by its size for such a small town.
I got a cabin then rang Alan, there was no phone coverage, so I left a message then went down to the bar and over an ice-cold beer I enquired about Alan Gilbert with the publican, he told me Alan lived about 95 miles west, and his property was called NiteSky, the gate was easy to see as he had an old FJ Holden car on stumps there and the boot was the letterbox.