And All the Stars (24 page)

Three hours till dawn. Four kilometres to row. Sydney's
city heart was shaped like a partially unfolded fan, with the Spire in Hyde
Park located on the lower right edge of the narrower southern end. Woolloomooloo Bay sat just east of the fan's
top right stretch of parkland, and they were aiming to row out of the Bay and
curve around the cove-notched upper edge, keeping to a central point between
the north and south shore until they'd passed beneath the Harbour Bridge and
could turn down the western side of the fan to the newly-developed waterfront
area called
Barangaroo
.

It had seemed a vast distance when they were poring over
maps, but caught up in the sensation of floating through blackness, Madeleine
found their arrival in the open water of the harbour came disconcertingly
quickly, their narrowed view opening up to the shimmering golden sweep of the North
Shore. Constellations of abandoned
apartment blocks, and suburban nebulae: terrestrial stars which spun and bobbed
as the dinghies hit the swell outside the shelter of the bay.

Facing the wrong direction to appreciate the vista, Fisher
said: "The current's not too bad. Tell me when we reach the turn point."

The turn point was halfway to a small island called Fort
Denison, helpfully furnished with a squat lighthouse. When Noi gave the word, Fisher and Min backed
their oars, slowing forward motion.

In the relative quiet which followed, they could clearly make
out the creak and splosh of the second dinghy, and Noi called softly: "
Duk-duk
!
Duk-duk
!" A
nonsense sound, their chosen signal to try to orient the two boats in the
dark. Their theory was that the noise
could be mistaken for a bird, and Madeleine supposed it was mildly less obvious
than "Over here!", but it did sound silly, and Emily's stifled giggle
in response came to them clearly over the shush of the ocean.

Nash and Pan succeeded in following the sound, and
Madeleine's straining eyes caught the shape of them just before a thin, wet
rope smacked her in the face. She
managed to catch it, and with a small amount of manoeuvring the two boats were
soon side-by-side, temporarily lashed together.

"Any sign?" Nash asked, serious, but with a measure
of exultation lighting his voice. Desperate and dangerous as this might be, the Harbour was transcendent.

"No movement to the west," Fisher replied.

Noi had the binoculars, and was peering as far down to the
Harbour entrance as the angle would permit. "I think those lights belong to one of the big ships," she
said. "It must have moved in from
the Heads, but doesn't seem to be coming any closer. You four fine to go on after a couple of
minutes' rest, or do you want to try swapping about?"

"It's easier than I expected," Min said. "Not that I won't complain about it
later, but I shouldn't have problems with the full run."

"My only worry is I don't want to stop," Pan
said. "This is the most incredible
thing I've ever done. I feel like I'm
flying." He went on, whispering,
but his stage-trained voice lifting irresistibly:

"
Take him and cut
him out in little stars,

And he will make the
face of heaven so fine

That all the world will
be in love with night

And pay
–
oof
!"

"Enough, Juliet," Nash said, sitting ready to bop
the shorter boy again. "You can
give us a command performance in the refrigerator."

"Somehow, I don't think that'll have quite the same
atmosphere." Pan heaved a great
sigh, a combination of regret and sheer delight, but didn't argue further.

"After the challenge," Noi said, a smile in her
voice. "We'll find a stage and you
can perform for all of us. Right now,
everyone take a few breaths. We need to
calm down."

They drifted slowly, giving themselves another few moments to
enjoy their surroundings, then separated the dinghies and returned to the
business of escape. Madeleine's role as
a non-rower was both lookout and defender, should they encounter anything. The fact that a well-aimed punch could
scupper a boat had been part of the arguments both for and against trying to
make a dash out through the headlands, and there'd also been an amusing
discussion on whether shields could be used as a form of propulsion, or would
merely be a spectacular way to overturn.

The long dark stretch of the Royal Botanic Gardens gave way
to curving white shells lit by spotlights. Madeleine wondered if the lights were automatic, or if the Moths or
Greens were turning them on. Perhaps
they, too, were reciting Shakespeare or, more likely, singing in their
oscillating language. The world knew so
little of what the Moths were like, what they were doing with their hosts,
whether glowing balls of light had any interest in the words, the music, the
pictures to be found in the cities they had stolen. There had been indications – Greens sent to
obtain fresh milk and meat – that the Moths were at least interested in Earth's
food, but given the Blue hunger drive that was hardly surprising.

It wasn't until the dinghy was almost past the Opera House
that they had a good view into the rectangular notch of Sydney Cove, with the
ferry docks and train station at its southern end. Noi, peering through the binoculars, murmured
that there was no sign of anyone, but Fisher and Min still increased their pace
as they approached Dawes Point and the sweep of well-lit bridge above. The Harbour Bridge was such a focal point,
and at some angles the passage of even a low boat might be visible against the
lights of the North Shore, so they'd planned to get through the area as quickly
as possible. Madeleine found herself
holding her breath, especially when she spotted Nash's boat well ahead, tiny
wake shattering golden reflections. Passing beneath the huge span, they were so small, and yet seemed so
obvious.

Panting, Min and Fisher scudded after them, and Madeleine
forced herself to strain for any glimpse of movement on the shoreline rather
than gaze up and up at the bar across the sky. They turned directly after passing beneath, and drew the dinghy to a
stop in the shadow of the first of the Walsh Bay piers.

The map had shown a hotel at this location, so they didn't
dare speak, simply waited till the two rowers had their breathing under
control, then pushed back out of the bay and pressed on toward the turning
point marked by
Barangaroo's
northern park.

"
Duk-duk
!
Duk-duk
!"

Something had gone wrong. Min and Fisher stopped rowing, though they didn't back paddle, allowing
the dinghy to continue slowly onward. They could hear the dip and creak of oars ahead of them, coming closer,
and after a long hesitation Noi responded, and the two dinghies found each
other north of Walsh Bay's central pier.

"What is it?"

Noi sounded as sick as Madeleine felt. They'd taken less time to cross the Harbour
than expected, but they had few contingency plans, none of them ideal.

"There's something in the water off Headland Park."

Nash's whisper was calm, unhurried, and Emily better summed
up the situation by adding: "Glowing eyes. There's glowing eyes, looking."

"Did it spot you?" Noi gazed anxiously past them.

"Don't think so," Pan replied. "We didn't get close, saw it as we
started around the curve. Scurried away
like mice."

"It's not visible from the near corner of the
park?"

"We didn't spot it till we were past the initial bump of
the sea wall."

Noi lifted the binoculars and peered into the gold-striped
dark.
Barangaroo
was broken into three sections grouped into a north-south rectangle. The north was covered in trees, sandstone
blocks rising out of the sea to a grassy hill. The south was crowded with apartments and skyscrapers under construction. The middle, separated from the other sections
by two small coves, was a mixture of garden and cultural sites – Madeleine had
visited it the previous year to see an open-air sculpture exhibition – but
several large buildings sat on its southern edge, including the enormous
Southern Sky Hotel, a 6 Star extravagance which, before the Spires interrupted,
had been in final preparations for a grandiose opening gala. The plan had been to row down to the cove
nearest the Hotel, risking only the briefest amount of time travelling by foot.

After a tense wait, Noi lowered the glasses. "It doesn't seem to be following
you. Is it feasible at all to get into
the park without going into its line of sight?"

"Yes. Easily." Nash paused, then
added: "It is more a question of what we will encounter in the park, given
that there is already one creature on guard."

"I'm for risking that," Noi said. "Anyone against?"

No-one spoke.

"Right. We'd
better do this without any chatter. We
unload, and push the boats out. Even
with the path lights, it's probably a bad idea to go stumbling through the
trees, so walk along the inner path all the way down the east edge to the car
park entrance. If the hotel looks like a
no-go, we break into the nearest apartments and get keys, cars. If we're split up, we're split up, and will either
meet in Plan B City or...we won't. Nash,
lead the way."

The nearest edge of the park was an inlet sheltered in all
directions except north across the harbour, with more than enough room for both
dinghies. They bumped against stepped
blocks of stone, and Madeleine was not the only one to wet her feet in the
process of getting out. A lamppost stood
above them, marking the path's location, and they took their time dumping their
life jackets, pushing the boats out, and then climbing, a hands and knees progress,
constantly reaching to confirm each other's location, passing the food bags up,
angling to avoid the light.

Moving at a pace just short of a trot along the path through
the trees, they hesitated at the inlet at the southern edge of North
Barangaroo
, then darted from shadow to shadow in the more
open Central section. The hotel loomed
above, a monolith of glimmering blue glass, and they approached it at a
tangent, following the road down to the gates of the underground car park.

Firmly sealed.

"Who takes the time to lock up in the middle of an alien
invasion?" Pan deposited his food
bag on the traffic island dividing the in and out lanes. "Want me to go try the front?"

"Not yet." Noi tugged experimentally at the service door to the right of the main
gates. "Even if this isn't wired
with an alarm, punching it open will leave an obvious sign someone's broken
in."

"Shall I look down here?" Nash unslung his bags and headed down a
branch of the entry drive, Pan at his heels.

Madeleine added her food bag to the growing pile, and peered
through the mesh of the gate. This
hurdle had not been unanticipated, but even though the garage entry was lower
than street level, she felt painfully exposed beneath the cold fluorescent
lighting. Not long till dawn. Just over six hours before the world would
come hunting.

"We could try to finger punch just the lock," Emily
suggested, peering over
Noi's
shoulder.

"Because only breaking it a little would be less likely
to set off any alarms?" Min asked. The sharper than usual edge in his voice brought a warning glance from
Noi, and he made a gesture of apology, then sat down on the traffic island,
examining reddened palms.

"In a hotel this size there will be a dozen entry
points," Fisher said. "After
the panic of the arrival day, the chances of every single one being firmly
sealed is low." But he glanced
toward the eastern sky.

"Guys, check this out."

Pan, beckoning from the junction of the drive. They followed him past a "Staff
Only" sign, to another set of metal gates. Nash was peering through the one on the right, and pointed as they came
up: "A solution."

Standing two metres inside the gate was a machine sporting a
big green button, a gate release meant to be hit by departing drivers.

"All it needs is a finger punch, at just the right
strength to push the button, but not so strong we smash the machine." Pan looked around. "Who thinks they have the best control?"

Knowing her limits, Madeleine opted to fetch the food bags,
and returned just as the gate whirred upward. The elevator obliged them by not requiring any keys to access the ground
floor, and then they were standing at a spacious junction directly before a
door marked 'Reception'.

"Kitchen," Pan said, and went right. By the time they followed him into an
enormous rectangular room of shining stainless steel, he was pulling open a
heavy-duty door. A wave of chill flowed
over them. "Freezer. And this would be – damn, I've seen houses
smaller than this refrigerator. We
should all fit in here."

"No." Fisher
walked into the rack-lined space and paced out an estimate of its boundaries,
stepping around pallets of boxes set on the floor. "Four, no, three people at most. It's not the oxygen; it's the carbon dioxide
build-up which is going to be the problem. Depending on the length of the challenge, we may need to risk even
opening the doors at least once. Unless..." He glanced around
the kitchen. "With big enough
containers we could try to rig some kind of crude carbon sink. That may help a little."

"Then where do the rest of us go?" Emily asked,
stepping closer to Noi.

"There's four restaurants in this hotel – we'll need to
spread between them if we want to survive twenty-four hours." He pulled the freezer door open again and
considered its size. "Plenty of
space here, which is good since one of us will probably need to use it. We can adjust the temperature to the highest
setting."

Madeleine shivered at the mere idea, and looked around at
worn, shadow-eyed faces. Some of them
had tried to sleep during the gap between the challenge announcement and
leaving, but the attempts hadn't been very successful, and after a pre-dawn row
and a park excursion with wet feet, the idea of even the refrigerator made her
feel ill.