And All the Stars (22 page)

Two weeks after the appearance of the Spires, small outbreaks
of stain had occurred in countless non-Spire towns and cities, and breathing
masks were ubiquitous, some even managing to sleep in them. But it had been established that the Conversion
could infect through contact with eyes, and masks could only do so much for
those who woke coated in dust. Even when
people stayed home, when there were no convenient large groups for the dragons
to target, the increased concentration of dust had soon led to thousands of new
cases of Blue-Green. The sheer
manoeuvrability of the dragons, and their relative indifference to sprays of
bullets, made them almost impossible to stop.

"I think we can safely say that the chances of anyone
else trying to shoot a Spire have dropped into the not worth betting on
range," Min said, standing and sliding the door shut. "There been any let-up in numbers?"

"No." Almost
thirty hours in, a new attack was still being reported roughly every hour.

"Coffee? Damn,
this milk is still solid." Min
thumped down the carton Madeleine had taken out of the freezer an hour ago,
making dishes rattle, then sighed. "Green tea?"

"No thanks. I
guess I should go to bed," Madeleine said, but didn't move, wondering if
she should be worried. Min was usually
very even-tempered. "Would it
offend you if I asked what you pray for each morning?"

"Mostly for my brothers to be reborn as slugs in a salt
mine," Min said flatly. "Oh,
they deserve it, don't worry. I'm
virtuous by comparison. Normal." He gave her a
sardonic look. "The contrast works
the other way here, among you would-be heroes trying to do the right thing, all
caution and common sense. No-one's even
gotten into the liquor cabinet.
Noi's
planning this surprise birthday party for Pan, yet
thinks it's a bad idea for us to cut loose."

"Alien invasions aren't exactly the time to get
drunk."

"If there was ever a time to get drunk, alien invasions
are it. We could lock ourselves in the
study first, and let Millie play lookout. But you all insist on being so dull and supportive with your musketeers
and your stick-together attitude. I keep
expecting to find the lot of you sitting around a campfire singing
Kumbaya
."

"You've been singing along with us,
Porthos
,"
Madeleine pointed out, relieved because Min's tone had lightened, growing
amused rather than acidic.

"Just humouring the natives," he said, but
smiled. "I started at
Rushies
with no interest whatsoever in acting. But it's hard not to get caught up, and a
little addicting playing Spy, Turncoat, Hero. Very elaborate lies, just my kind of thing. You, however, are totally transparent, especially
when trying to cheer people up. Go to
bed."

Uncurling, she headed upstairs to the lamp-lit library. Fisher's favourite place was the window seat,
and she wasn't surprised to see him still awake, but it was unusual for him to
be gazing steadily out the window instead of reading.

"Is there something out there?"

He turned his head, making one of his unhurried studies of
her.

"Take a look."

It was an unremarkable exchange, but Madeleine instantly
filled with a total awareness of him, tucked snugly in a corner of the seat, a
book set on one raised knee, posture relaxed, weary smudges beneath his
glasses. She would have to lean across
him to see in the direction he'd been looking, and the way he kept his
attention on her as she hesitated, and then slowly approached, made her
extraordinarily conscious of her hair falling loose from its usual knot, and
the cheap, rumpled tracksuit hiding almost all her stars.

One knee on the edge of the seat, she rested a hand on the
sill, leaned forward and saw...light. A
pathway dancing across the black sheet of the bay, leading to a low, heavy moon
sinking into the horizon.

"Beautiful."

"Very."

There was a hint of laughter to the word, and she turned her
head to see the scene reflected in his glasses, twin moons which obscured but
did not hide eyes focused on her face. A
charged moment, chained lightning. Then
Madeleine decided she was tired of small steps and took a big one, dropping her
head to press her mouth to his.

Barely a kiss, simple contact. He exhaled as she drew back, and she felt the
feather-touch of his breath. They stared
at each other, then uncertainty turned into forward motion, and this time they
both moved, found lips, discovered the tingle of tongues entwined.

Technicalities. What
felt right, what didn't. A stop-start
exploration of reaction, then relaxation into sheer enjoyment. Madeleine shifted her hand from the sill to
his shoulder, and Fisher moved his to her waist. As their kisses grew deeper, he pulled her
forward, and she slid into his lap.

Like all Blues, Fisher's palms were covered with stain,
though most of his fingers were free of it. Breath coming faster, he slid both hands from her waist to the small of
her back, where her tracksuit top and the shirt below had ridden up. The contrast of sensation, velvet and flesh,
made her shiver and tighten arms around his neck. Encouraged, he moved further up her back.

Sitting as she was, Madeleine was completely clear about the
effect she was having on him. This was
no longer merely a big step, was becoming an outright leap, and she found she
was fine with that, though maybe not on the library window seat. She slowed her kisses, then drew back, and
the small noise he made was all about her weight shifting.

She had to smile, because his glasses had steamed up, and he
looked ruffled and owl-like, but when she lifted them carefully away his
cinnamon-brown gaze transfixed her. He
took the glasses, put them on the windowsill, then, slowly, constantly
monitoring her reaction, reached for the zipper-pull of her tracksuit top, and
drew it down.

Her shirt, form-fitting and dark green, had been rucked up by
his exploration of her back, and the very tips of his fingers brushed
glimmering skin.

Moth song.

They both leapt as if struck, Fisher so violently that
Madeleine would have been propelled into a nosedive if he hadn't caught at her
arm. She staggered to her feet, ready to
run, to hide, and was turning toward the study when she recognised a quality of
distance.

"It's the Spire."

Only the second time the Spire had sung. The Moths mightn't be near, but this
suggested a change, perhaps new instructions for the Greens. Muffled, hurried footsteps on the floor below
revealed Min's reaction, and down the hall the door to the Wonder Woman room
was wrenched open, though Noi had slowed to a less urgent place by the time she
reached the library.

"Well that was better than an alarm clock," she
said, looking at them both standing by the window. "Do we dive for the study yet
again?"

Fisher was frowning ferociously, head cocked to one side, but
responded after a pause with a quick headshake. "Prepare for it, perhaps. I'll see if I can spot anything on the city webcams." He went into the study, mouth set in a grim
line.

"I was feeling peckish anyway," Noi remarked, and
tugged Madeleine's shirt down.

ooOoo

Most of Sydney's webcams were set in uselessly scenic
places. They had two views of the
skyline, three of the Bridge, one of Bondi, a couple in Circular Quay, but
around Hyde Park where the Moths were most active, only the hastily-rigged cam
pointing at the Spire. At night, that
didn't tell them anything.

Dawn added little.

When the Spire stopped singing mid-morning, Madeleine went to
bed, too tired to care anymore. She woke
sour-mouthed and headachy in the late afternoon, feeling cheated of something
she'd wanted. A long shower eased her
temper, and she dressed with care, nothing out of the ordinary, but
neatly. The Spire's interruption had
thoroughly shattered the moment for her and Fisher, but the step had still been
taken. As often as she'd looked at him
since, she'd found him looking back, and Madeleine was surprised at the
comfortable acceptance she felt. Mutual
liking thoroughly acknowledged, action postponed.

She had tried to think about the situation in wider terms,
with words like love and belonging. But
it was difficult to look beyond the now of allies facing an incredible
situation. Too soon and too strange to
be sure of more than wanting there to be another moment.

Stomach rumbling, she headed downstairs. The buzz of a newsreader's voice was the only
sound, and everyone was gathered around the television. No surprise – it was around the time when, if
they stuck to schedule, the Moths announced the details of the next
challenge. Which city would be their
next plaything.

Everyone was so still. Statues, faces stiff with shock, staring at the screen. Only Emily looked around, and she jumped to
her a feet with a cry and rushed to throw her arms around Madeleine's
waist. But by then Madeleine had joined
the others in being frozen, staring at the newsreader, and the over the
shoulder graphic clearly labelled "SYDNEY CHALLENGE".

The image was the figure of a girl, cut off at neck
level. A noodle-like figure in short
shorts and a crochet halter neck top, and all the rest of her, stars.

"Okay, enough freaking out. We need to think this through."

They had responded to the announcement as Blues: with a
massive injection of sugar pretending to be hot tea. Madeleine had been firmly sat down on the
couch, a steaming mug pushed into her hands, with Emily curled comfortingly
along one side, and Fisher a more restrained support on the other.

"At minimum, one hundred and fifty-five Moths," Noi
went on, eyeing Madeleine with open concern. "About sixty of them with Rovers, if they're allowed to bring them
along. Maybe the dragons as well, for
better coverage. Given the first Rover
found us at the garage, I think the wharf party's over guys. Time to run."

"But," Nash said.

Noi looked at him, sitting tensely upright on the opposite
couch, and sighed. "Yeah, big
bloody but. I think we can guess what
the Spire was singing about last night."

"A cordon."

"They'd be mad to announce a Blue hunt without putting
up a fence first. You slept through it,
Maddie
, but another of the big Navy ships moved out around
lunchtime."

"There's no way there's enough Blues and Greens in
Sydney to guard every possible route," Pan said. "We've just got to pick the right
direction to run."

"They've had days to drive cars across every back
street," Min pointed out. "Along with that they just need spotters, and that dragon. If I were them I'd have spent the day setting
up my own webcam network. At least given
Greens a number to call and told them to lurk at all the through-streets."

"Why do they even think
Maddie's
still in the city?" Pan asked. "Gav thought we were leaving. We all thought we were leaving."

"The film from the beach." Fisher reached for one of the laptops, and
began typing in a search. "The
discussion of Madeleine fending off one of the Moths has never completely died
down. The uninfected are doing the
Moths' job for them." He turned the
computer so Madeleine could see her name on the screen. "My fault, ultimately, for posting the
Subject M data."

He moved one hand to brush against her back, a gesture of
apology or reassurance.

"Still a big assumption to base one of their challenges
on," Noi said. "Though I guess
they might consider
Maddie
prime suspect in Reasons
Rover Didn't Come Home."

"I should go."

The words were faint, finding their way out of Madeleine's
throat almost against her will. She made
herself continue, facing up to the impossibility of any other choice.

"If I'm there, if I'm – if there's no need to hunt me,
then they won't
hunt
you. I have to go."

During the chorus of protest which followed, Emily burrowed
into Madeleine's side, murmuring something. The words were indistinct, but it was sure to be some variation of 'all
for one'. Then Min tossed a screwed-up
piece of paper at Madeleine, bouncing it off her forehead.

"Sorry to rain on your self-sacrifice parade, but if you
give yourself up, you're giving the rest of us up at the same time. As soon as you're possessed they'll know
where we are. Can the melodrama and
drink your damn tea. You're in
shock."

"Minnow, you make the
best
speeches," Pan said, wrapping his arms around Min's
neck. Min shoved him away, and they
wrestled briefly, a flurry which had more relief than anger in it. It lightened the atmosphere, and Madeleine
made herself sip obediently, then remembered her hunger and drank thirstily.

"Under no circumstances."

Fisher breathed the words into her ear as she lowered the
mug, and when she looked at him a great many thoughts which fit neither time
nor place rushed to the forefront of her mind. She had no idea what her face showed, but the betraying colour of Fisher's
ears revealed his mind had followed a similar course.

"Right, as I was saying," Noi said, too serious for
more than the faintest smile in their direction. "Running away. Anyone have any arguments against it?"

"It's the most dangerous option," Fisher said,
firmly. "Don't underestimate the
difficulty of finding a route unseen when we're the only cars moving, and every
Green is primed to expect an escape. I'm
not certain we could even drive off this Wharf without setting off the first
alert. And if we get out of the city
centre, it won't only be the stained we're hiding from. The whole of Australia will now be highly
aware of the probability of Madeleine running, and as soon as she's spotted
it's almost inevitable that someone in their excitement will tweet or post or
share the news in some way."