Текст книги "And All the Stars "

Автор книги: Andrea Höst

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Chapter Thirteen

"You do not understand me, gentlemen," Pan said, throwing his head back. "I asked to be excused in case I should not be able to discharge my debt to all three; for Monsieur Athos has the right to kill me first, which must much diminish the face-value of your bill, Monsieur Porthos, and render yours almost null, Monsieur Aramis. And now, gentlemen, I repeat, excuse me, but on that account only, and—on guard!"

Min made a by-play of drawing a sword, and wincing as if his shoulder was injured, but said: "When you please, monsieur," and then skipped backward as Pan feinted, fist out. Extra layers of clothing bulking their figures, they circled each other, throwing out finger-punches, and then firmer blows, not full strength, but enough that they had to set their feet or be knocked backward by their smoothly responsive shields.

"The cardinal's Guards!" Emily called suddenly, and Min and Pan spun toward Madeleine and punched with dual force, and though Madeleine's shield automatically reacted to the punches, there was no way to keep her footing and she struggled to bring up a second shield at the right strength before she collided with one of the support pillars.

Bouncing forward, she stumbled and dropped to padded knees, but managed to counter-punch at Min and Pan both, since they'd foolishly clumped together. Min dived to one side, leaving only Pan to be slammed into a car door. The glass had been smashed in an earlier bout, but this time metal crumpled.

"All right, Pan?" Nash asked from the east lookout post, as Madeleine held her hands out in the 'no attack' signal.

"Yeah." Pan stepped out of the concave imprint he'd made. "I managed not to bounce! Though I'm not sure if I can claim credit, or if I just hit the right point between too hard and too soft. You weren't holding back as much that time, Maddie."

"Meant to only step up a notch," Madeleine said, shakily. "But I think I'm getting a little better at judging." Hopefully she'd improve before accidentally killing someone.

"Rest and then we'll swap to Emily and Fisher for a final bout," Noi said from the west lookout, and Madeleine obediently plopped down near the entry gate. Min plucked an invisible hat from his head, dipping into an elaborate, hat-twirling bow, and joined her.

It was the fourth practice session. The garage under the North Building was suitably isolated, entirely separate from the main apartment, with only one perforated metal entry gate and a few ventilation shutters offering anyone a chance of seeing what was happening. And for that they would need to walk most of the way down the wharf and peer into the gloom of the garage.

The first day, upset and angry, they'd done little more than peck at each other, limited by the unforgiving concrete and steel environment, and recognising an added hurdle: for all its privacy, the garage was cramped by a half dozen cars – and their alarms. But as dusk came on, they risked moving several out to the visitor parking between the two buildings, and disconnected the batteries of the remainder, disabling the alarms.

During the second session Pan had started turning their attempts to learn into a game, switching through an endless stream of fight scenes – Hamlet, The Princess Bride, The Empire Strikes Back, Monty Python – and falling frequently back on an evolving Blue Musketeer persona. It wasn't till the third session that Madeleine realised that Pan was as intent on distracting everyone else as he was trying to make himself feel better. They were all facing the gap between their current abilities and those displayed during the Manila challenge, and trying to believe they had some hope.

"We're getting better at blocking physical impacts, at least," she said, loud enough for the two lookouts to hear. "And not paralysing ourselves when we try to shield-stun someone else."

"I wish we could practice in a park," Emily said. "So we didn't have to keep worrying about bouncing into the ceiling."

"Or through it." Pan grinned up at a circular impact mark. "Too much pixie dust, Tink."

"I think I'll nap before the next challenge," Madeleine added. "And take the late night watch."

"I'll take early–" Nash began.

"Down! Move!"

Noi, eyes wide, hurled herself from her lookout position at the westernmost ventilation shutter. They scrambled to their feet, hurrying for shelter behind pillars and cars.

Too late, and pointless beside. The glowing thing which leapt against the entry gate clearly knew exactly where they were. It made a huffing noise which had something of the whine of a jet engine to it, and the metal bars shuddered

"The Hell is that?" Pan asked, abandoning attempts to hide.

The thing huffed again, and scrabbled. It stood a little taller than a person, the head long, tapering and bony, topped with two trailing streamers of light which suggested ears. At the front it had streamer-fluffed claws, but its rear was elongated, and curled on itself: a sea serpent's tail.

"Let it in," Fisher said.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Min asked, backing rapidly away from the gate. "We can't let that thing in here!"

"We can't let it go away either."

"He's right," Noi said. "Maddie, brace yourself against the rear wall so it sees you first. Everyone else to either side. Try not to force punch wildly or we'll have the building down. Nash, close the gate after it, then stay back."

Nash, nearest the controls, gave Fisher and Noi a sharp look, then pressed the manual release.

"Oh damn," Pan said, then ducked to one side as the gate tried to lift, and slowed as it hit the glowing creature outside. "I don't think we're ready for this."

Madeleine was sure she wasn't, but seeing no other option she dashed to the rear wall of the garage, and set her back to it. She'd barely turned before the gate had lifted enough for the thing to duck under. It raced straight at her, a galloping motion made strange by the twining tail, which undulated above the ground as if it swam through water. She hastily brought up her shield, unwilling to rely on any automatic response, struggling for control. This was impossibly different to mock duelling with Blue Musketeers.

As it neared her the thing reared, mouth gaping, then pounced forward, the impact driving her into the concrete even as the shield bounced it away. Immediately it surged at her again, at a slower speed which didn't produce the bounce reaction, and she gasped at the weight of it, pressing both the shield and her into the wall.

"Try knocking it down with shields while it's occupied with Maddie," Pan said, racing up.

Fitting action to words, he immediately shield-smashed the glowing creature, but rebounded from the contact. Then the coiling tail lashed toward him, a crunching slam only avoided by frantic rolling.

"Everyone stand to this side of it," Min said. "Then all low-level punch at once. That might do it without sending it through a wall."

"Hold fast, Maddie," Noi called, as they scrambled. "If it gets too much, try to knock it back."

Maintaining the shield for a long period required concentration, and Madeleine was starting out tired from training, but at least its interest in her gave everyone a chance to gather together out of tail-lashing distance.

"Get ready to move if this doesn't work," Fisher said. "Go."

All the punches together made a whoomping noise, and the creature did seem to feel it, twisting sideways. But then, glowing brighter than ever, it leaped back at Madeleine, its jet engine howl increasing in intensity.

"I think you made it stronger!" Madeleine gasped, as she was again slammed backward into the wall, not daring to cushion with a shield in case it bounced her forward. Unable to stand the weight, she pushed out with the front shield, glad she'd put a lot of practice into not paralysing herself, and took a relieved breath when she succeeded in jolting the glow-monster a few feet away.

"If shields cause rebound when struck quickly, move in slow," Fisher said rapidly.

"Surround it and all press in," Noi agreed.

"Nash, come when we have it pinned," Fisher added, and Madeleine couldn't understand why, but had to focus on keeping her shield up as the glow-monster came at her again.

It seemed to be trying to knock her to the ground and with its increased strength Madeleine was not only being pushed into the wall, but she could feel the glow-monster getting closer, making gradual progress through her shield.

"Set your feet," Min warned, and then rocked backward as his attempt to pin the thing's tail was only partially successful.

Nash ran up. Madeleine still hadn't understood what he was expected to do, since, while he could shield and punch a little, he was vastly weaker, and tended to collapse almost immediately. He couldn't use the precious energy he drew from them to fight.

But that, of course, was the answer, and Nash had thought through Fisher's reasoning quicker than Madeleine. Squeezing between Noi and Pan, he set both hands to the thing's heaving side.

The reaction was immediate: frantic thrashing threatening to hurl them in every direction. Fisher and Pan, the weakest among them, stumbled, but pressed in again.

"Hold firm," Noi gasped as the thing's howling cry scaled up to painful intensity, enough to make them want to stop everything in favour of covering ears.

"Too much." Nash was blazing, his palms and the stars which covered the back of his neck burning pinpoints.

"Vent," Fisher told him tersely. "Go outside and punch over the water."

Nash ran, the necessity of re-opening the garage door slowing him down. But once he was out, he had a clear shot east.

"Hurry!" Pan called, as the glow-monster heaved back from Madeleine, trying to escape, to push against the weakest shields. Emily and Min fell, and the tail lashed, swiping Fisher, who ricocheted into the nearest car, and Madeleine gasped aloud, but saw he'd managed to shield himself against the impact.

Noi and Pan dived on the tail, pinning it to the ground between them, but they weren't usefully braced. They'd been able to keep it in place when it had her against the wall and they'd surrounded it and pushed in, but now that it was loose there was no way any of them could hold it without being knocked away.

"Push down on it and use another shield against the ceiling!" Min was already attempting to put his words into action, but it was definitely something easier said than done. With a startled shout, he ended up bouncing sideways, and water began spraying from the fire sprinklers.

Not trusting herself with such a difficult manoeuvre, Madeleine ran for Nash, barely beating the glow-monster's attempt to run right over him. With no time for explanations, she simply spun and shield-punched the thing toward the car with the Pan-sized dint in its side, the impact catapulting her backward.

"Pin it! Pin it!" Pan ran forward, and the others joined him, holding the creature against the car so Nash could risk approaching. Madeleine ran to join them, keeping it still as it frantically tried to escape Nash's touch.

It collapsed.

The transition was so swift that most of them went down with it, falling to puffing heaps around a thing which now glowed no more than a paper lantern. A lantern the size of a small car.

"Is – is it properly dead?" Emily whispered.

"I think so." Nash, stars bright, pressed his hand against the thing's neck, then started back when his fingers sank into the glowing surface. "It doesn't have – it's like it's turned to mud. Less than that. Fog."

"It looks like a dead jellyfish," Pan said. "Which is a step down from the 'mermaid called Rover' thing it started with." He grimaced, and wiped at the water running into his eyes. "We beat one of these things. We know now that we can fight back. Why the hell aren't I cheering?"

"We don't even know what this is," Min pointed out. "Our problem is the Moths. Whole different ball game."

"It's familiar in an odd way," Madeleine said. "I know I've never seen it before, but I felt like I had."

"The balls with ears from the first challenge," Noi said, using Pan's shoulder to lever herself to her feet. "Come on, we can't just sit here in a puddle. Nash, go see if you can spot anyone coming down the wharf. Everyone else, there have to be controls to shut these sprinklers off."

Fisher, next to his feet, held a hand down for Madeleine, and waited to check she could stay up. Then they paused to stare at the thing they'd just killed. It did remind Madeleine a little of the targets from the Manila challenge, but a car-sized doggy mermaid was a long way from a soccer ball with ears and paws. Related species? Parent? She puzzled over it while they hunted for a way to shut down the broken sprinkler system without cutting off water to the entire building.

"No sign of any movement on either side," Nash said, jogging back to the garage entrance just as they succeeded in stopping the flow. "Why alone? It seemed to know where we were."

"Maybe it's some kind of Blue tracker," Min suggested. "Able to smell us or hear us or something."

"Doesn't explain why they'd let it gallop off to leap on us alone," Noi said, then shivered and shook her head, a few drops of water spraying from damp curls. "Speculate later. Right now we have a big glowing corpse, no obvious Moths, and a huge decision."

"Stay or leave." Fisher said.

"At sunset, while cold and wet. When the only one of us not exhausted is Nash." Noi ticked the obstacles off. "Not necessarily insurmountable. We've talked about Goat Island as a possibility. We have boats and have downloaded harbour charts, and it's a straightforward enough trip. We could probably get there in the dark without running into anything. But for all we know Goat Island is where they keep their flying snake, so condition unknown. And it's one of the few largish islands in the harbour, so a bit obvious as a hiding place. That's the question of leaving – what about staying?"

"The gamble is whether they have another Rover," Min said. "If, that is, the thing really could track us. They obviously haven't been able to before now, or our pyjama party would have been over days ago. If we're to believe the internet chatter, the Moths don't know when Blues are hiding nearby. This building has been cleared already, and the hidden room and webcams are seriously hard to give up, so long as we think this Rover is the only Rover. The problem with staying is that." He nodded at the corpse, large and obvious in the fading light. "We could risk using the garage because it's dim and sheltered and there's little chance anyone will go in it to notice any damage. The glow from that thing is a neon sign marking the start point of any hunt."

"Staying or leaving, we need to get rid of it," Fisher said.

"True enough." Noi's stomach growled, announcing another issue they needed to deal with, and soon. "Right. Fisher, grab the laptop and see if you can dig up any other sightings of Rovers. Nash, Pan, take lookout either side. We'll try to push it into the water."

The yielding, insubstantial mass would only shift when thumped with a shield, and by the time they had knocked it out of the garage and then chivvied it to the navy base side of the wharf, all Madeleine could think of was food and rest.

The lantern glow of monster sank below the surface, and they went inside to eat and decide what next.

Chapter Fourteen

A chorus of breathing in a room lit only by the flicker of computer screens. Madeleine shifted, warm beneath a blanket, bracketed by sleeping people. Her back hurt.

With no sign of Moths following Rover, and everyone but Nash close to dropping where they stood, the decision to stay or leave had been a forgone conclusion. As a precaution they were all spending the night in the hidden study. While his fellow Musketeers filled their stomachs, Nash had shifted the computer to the top of the filing cabinet and removed the simple desk, creating a little more room. Then he'd been stuck with a lot of cleaning up, as everyone else focused on getting warm and dry before curling up to sleep and digest. The extremes of the Blue metabolism.

Madeleine had gone to sleep propped between Noi and Emily, but, drifting awake, she could see Nash sitting beneath the window with a laptop, and Noi curled next to the sprawling pile which was Min and Pan. The shoulder she was tucked against belonged to Fisher.

Noi had most likely contrived the swap during a bathroom excursion, and Madeleine decided to be grateful, to enjoy the moment. Fisher had continued to provide a fascinated audience during the portrait sittings, helping her clean up afterwards. Today – yesterday – they'd spent all of the time between the sitting and late afternoon training chatting. He'd avoided talking about himself, instead drawing her out on what still needed to be done on the new portrait, and the chances of a young unknown winning the Archibald Prize, and all her hopes for being able to study full time, to not need to compromise between what she wanted to do and what was likely to earn her a living. About scholarships, and the gaps in her portfolio. She hadn't meant to talk so much, but Fisher was a good listener, and so interested.

The question was whether his interest was in her, or her art. And if he was pretending to be interested in her painting as a way to get closer to her. She wasn't sure she would be able to forgive that.

But she still filled a small secret sketchpad with images of him, and worried about how little sleep he got, and wondered whether it would be stupid to suggest they surely had enough time for him to rest occasionally. Her private challenge was to capture how he would pause sometimes to be amused at himself, and it discomforted her, in reviewing these attempts, to see just how much of her own emotions the pictures revealed.

Nash had noticed she was awake, and was smiling at her, at the way she was trying to look at Fisher's face without moving from his shoulder. Her sketchbooks really weren't going to tell anybody anything they didn't already know.

"What's the time?" she whispered.

"Twenty to one." Nash's voice was particularly delicious when he kept it low, and she regretted being unable to find a way to express the sound of him. "I promised to wake everyone to watch the challenge, but it can wait till there's something to see." He removed the power cord from his laptop and leaned forward to hold it and the headphones toward her. "Here is something you will be glad of."

Reluctantly abandoning her comfortable contact with Fisher, Madeleine stretched to take it. The screen showed the ABC website, an article with a headline of "Shocking Survival" below a video image of a woman with a soft brown bob and sun damaged skin.

Researchers from James Cook University have reported a breakthrough in the treatment of Blue-Green. Earlier this evening, a representative of the School of Biomedical Sciences made the first announcement of this critical discovery.

"Our preliminary results show a dramatic increase in the survival rate of the infected if they are shocked with shield paralysis as soon as possible after exposure to the Blue-Green Conversion," Dr Jennifer Elliman said. "A healthy subject, even among smaller mammals where mortality has been nearly one hundred per cent, has in the area of a fifty per cent survival rate with Green stain, and thirty per cent with Blue."

Madeleine skimmed the rest of the article, then played the video and listened to the woman answering questions, and insisting that it was early days for absolutes, and that this was by no means a cure, only a treatment method.

She'd felt Fisher shift while she was watching, and when she removed the headphones he said: "This will provide a counter-motive for those so eager to hand over Blues."

"Perhaps," Nash said. "But only so far as keeping one or two on hand. I still would not risk putting ourselves in another's power."

Madeleine closed the browser window, and found a second open page, headed: Leech Blues: Inevitable Murderers? Her eyes met Fisher's, and he reached unhurriedly to brush the trackpad, closing the window.

"How is your back?"

"Sore," Madeleine admitted. "I couldn't tell if it was bruised or not. Peering over my shoulder at the mirror isn't effective when everything is blue." She suddenly remembered him circling her taking pictures and had to look away. "I'll get Noi to check later," she added hurriedly, and saw that Noi was awake, watching with unabashed interest. "Or maybe now. It's nearly time for the challenge."

"And past time for midnight snacks," Noi said, stretching. "Even normal practice sessions make it hard to get through the night without getting up to eat, let alone yesterday's extravaganza."

She poked the pile of boy next to her while Madeleine woke Emily, and then they opened the door to let in a wash of chilly air. Nash offered to cook something, and Noi took Madeleine into the master bedroom en suite to examine her back.

"I should have suggested doing this tomorrow," Madeleine said, shirtless and shivering. "It's definitely getting to the end of Autumn."

"Yeah, pity we can't risk turning on the heating in this place. As it is I've been wondering if we'll end up having the power cut off by some automated you-haven't-paid-your-bill system." She poked Madeleine's shoulder blade gently. "Hurts here, right?"

"Yes. You can see bruises then?"

"I can see where the stars aren't. The only thing I know to do for bruises is put ice on them."

Madeleine shuddered at the idea. "Definitely not bad enough for that."

"Okay then. Look at me for a moment." Noi was standing, arms folded, eyebrows raised, lips lightly curved. "See me here, visibly restraining myself."

"Is that what you call that?"

"Did I mention I took photos? Didn't even wait till he was asleep." Noi paused to fully appreciate Madeleine's reaction. "He laughed. That makes him a keeper in my book."

"Noi..."

"I was going to point out that we could have died yesterday afternoon, that we could die today, or tomorrow. After all, we're not talking wear clean underwear because you might get hit by a bus – we're talking glowing flying buses hunting us down and trying to hump our legs. But, seriously, it's way too much fun watching you two dancing around each other with no idea what to do next. It surprises me, since Fisher's really very confident and assured for a Science Boy. I'm having to revise my stereotypes."

"We only met eleven...twelve days ago," Madeleine protested, pulling on her Singlet and tracksuit jacket.

"I guess so. Seems like much longer. Seems like centuries."

All the liveliness drained from Noi's face, and this time Madeleine didn't hesitate, but turned and wrapped her arms around the shorter girl. Noi started to pull away, but then leaned into Madeleine's hold, breath turning to gulps.

"We were so close to being lost, Maddie. All of us, any of us. There's no way we can make it through two years of this, and I'm just so – everyone's gone, Maddie. I can't stand it. They're all gone."

Madeleine wondered if the reason Noi had stopped pursuing Pan had less to do with his age than it did Noi's fear and grief. There was still nothing she could say which would make Noi's loss easier, though she told her she was sorry, and stroked her back as she struggled with her tears. After yesterday's fight, it wasn't surprising that Noi's control had frayed: Madeleine was only surprised that the lot of them hadn't kicked each other awake having nightmares.

"You don't have to be the strong one all the time, you know," she said, when the storm had begun to pass.

"Don't I?" Noi took a deep breath and straightened. "How will Millie cope if I'm having dramas all over the place? She's just a baby. How will it help anyone if I sit in a corner rocking back and forth?" Turning away, she dashed water into her face, firming her mouth.

"Does it have to be one extreme or another?" Madeleine paused, then added: "We made a good team yesterday. I don't know if it's enough to get us through this, and I don't like to think about how I now have a bunch of people that matter. I know I rely on you a bit much – I don't think ahead in the same way – but you don't need to..." Madeleine stopped. Who was she to dictate how Noi coped? "Anyway, I'm here if you need anything. And you can email me those photos."

That brought back Noi's smile, and then the scent of cooking drew them downstairs. Madeleine let herself be the entertainment by sitting next to Fisher so she could peek at what he was typing. Surviving the next two years wasn't just a matter of successfully hiding: it was being brave without losing your head, and squabbling a bit but not too much, and having two people around not managing to hide that they liked each other, because watching that was a happy thing.

"Do you think they're being deliberately dickish?" Pan was eyeing the television, which had switched from thousands of people gathered in a candlelight prayer vigil to a sunny parkland, and another gathering of Moths.

"Is that some kind of trick question?" Min asked, derisive. "What is not dickish about invading someone's planet so you can play games?"

"Yeah, yeah." Pan threw a mock-punch. "I just mean picking a religious icon for this challenge. Are they going to go for the Spring Temple Buddha next, or play chasies in a mosque?"

"Given they started with a golf course..." Min said.

"That was the Manila Moths," Pan said. "These are the Rio Moths. We know not all Moths act the same because of the way some go out of their way to destroy any webcams in their areas, while others don't care. The London ones wave when they pass. Maybe the Rio ones are trying to make a point today, rubbing our faces in how we just have to sit here and watch."

"Or maybe the Rio Moths were trying to decide on a challenge, looked about and saw a great big statue on a hill?" Min's acid tone was leavened by a grin. "How about, you do my next turn at the washing up if I'm right and they don't destroy the thing?"

Pan held his hands in a warding-off gesture. "I'll pass. You've already got me doing your laundry and cleaning your room."

The great big statue was called Christ the Redeemer and its appearance on the challenge website had caused a new wave of upset, at least among Christians, who were convinced that the goal of the challenge was to destroy the statue.

"Do you think they're going to destroy it?" she asked Fisher.

"I don't believe they'll care if they do." He stopped typing to glance at the television, where the Mothed Blues were lining up near a long row of cars, then turned the laptop toward her. "There's been another Rover sighting. Again it's a city which gained points during the first challenge. But look at it."

He started a video, and within a minute everyone was hanging over his shoulder having him replay it. The Rover they'd killed had stood as tall as a human, but wider, and its tail had extended a couple of metres. The video, an elevated street view, showed a Rover which was taller than the size of an ordinary door, so that it had to crouch and crawl to get inside the building it was trying to enter, its curling tail trailing behind like a swimming snake's. Several Blues followed it in.

"Who filmed this?" Nash asked.

"A Green who returned to Berlin after the Spire stopped singing. She's been documenting Blue activities."

"Damn. Above and beyond." Pan shook his head respectfully. "What've you been saying?"

Fisher paged down the comments, where his new net identity, 'Theo', had been making suggestions about fighting Rovers. "I don't dare outright say what worked for us," he explained. "Too big a flag. But I tell enough. Important, since the Rovers do appear to be tracking Blues."

"I'm not sure we could fight one that big," Madeleine said.

"There's every chance we won't have to." Fisher flipped through the mixture of photographs and drawings he'd collected in the short time before and after urgent rest. "The first sighting of a Rover is soon after the Manila challenge, and if we look at the progression of sightings, each larger than the previous, it's not unreasonable to conclude that the Rovers were some form of prize. That suggests a scarcity."

"With Nash, we have a chance against these glowing things," Noi said. "I'm more worried about what we do if Blues come after us. Greens we can shield paralyse and run. Blues – Mothed Blues fight far better than we can, and if Nash drains them, well, from what we've seen that will probably kill the host as well as the Moth. Are we all willing to do that to people? Are we willing to do that to Gavin?"

Silence.

"Ho-ly shit!"

Pan almost catapulted himself into Fisher's lap, gaping at the muted television, though by the time Madeleine looked there was only an image of three fighter jets, moving into formation as they streaked away over a tree-dotted city.

"They shot a Spire! They shot a Spire!" Pan said. "Turn on the sound!"

Min dived for the remote and a woman's gasping voice said: "...there an impact?"

"Get higher," a second woman said. "In case they're coming back."

The image dipped and bounced as whoever was filming ran, and there followed a confused jumble of stairs and biohazard suits.

"I didn't see any explosion," Pan said.

Noi had an iron grip on Madeleine's shoulder. "Let it work," she breathed.

"But why would they think–?" Madeleine paused. "Of course. The Moths bring the shields down to go through for the challenges."

The camerawoman had reached a roof and provided a shot of a placidly unperturbed Spire standing in the middle of a very long, straight park.

"The Spire which rose under the Washington Monument," Fisher said.

His tone and expression were no more than thoughtful, but sitting beside him Madeleine could feel the tension behind the relaxed appearance. She touched the back of his hand, and he looked at her blankly, then managed a semblance of a smile. "The most likely result is that they just bombed Rio de Janeiro."

"Damn, Fish is right," Pan said. "No sign of any damage on the Spire, anyway. Does anyone have the Moth transmission still up? Any explosions?"