Frank Townsend leaned on a fence, watching as the army helicopter lifted off from the front paddock. They’d been pretty decent about it, waiting till he’d finished the morning milking and herded the cows to a more distant paddock so they wouldn’t be unduly alarmed, but after days of activity and all sorts of comings and goings, the cows were getting used to the excitement.
A second figure joined him. ‘Morning Frank.’
‘Gidday Glad. You’re an early bird.’
‘I have to get back to town. I’ve still got a shop to run.’
‘You won’t stay for breakfast?’
‘Thanks, but no. I’ll press on.’
‘You’re welcome here any time, you know. Come back this evening if you like. Join us for dinner. Stay over again.’
Glad paused, thinking of her empty house and the gruelling day ahead. It was official now. Everyone knew her son was one of the missing children, so there’d be sympathy and kind words from everyone in town. They were good people, but she really just wanted to get on with things and not think too much about it.
‘You mean commute?’
‘It’s what those city folk do.’
‘I might take you up on that, Frank. Just for a day or two.’
‘Make it however long you like. You’re good company.’
‘Thanks, Frank.’
The sound of the helicopter faded, replaced by the cheerful call of a tui.
‘There was something else, wasn’t there?’ he added. ‘In your boy’s note. An extra page.’
She bit her lip, tempted to tell him. Share her worries and fears.
‘It was just ... personal stuff ...’
‘Yeah?’
She looked away and drew a breath. ‘It ... might not be as easy for them to get back as they suggested. Fifty light-years is a huge distance.’
‘Not so much the distance, it’s the time, right? All that relativity stuff? I did wonder about that myself.’
‘You can't tell the others.’
‘They’re going to have to know at some point.’
‘Yeah, but not yet, eh? Let’s give the kids a chance. They did say to give them six to eight weeks.’
‘And after that?’
She looked at the departing helicopter, fighting back tears. ‘Each day as it comes, eh? What else can we do?’
* * *
Andop returned in the early hours of the morning, drawing back the curtains in the upstairs office and waking Alkemy and Ludokrus, who’d spent the night sleeping on sofas and using dust sheets for blankets. They stretched and groaned as Tetzul light flooded the diamond-paned windows, filling the room with a warm orange glow.
‘Sorry about the accommodation,’ he said, ‘but I imagine Meli and his goons will be watching your parents house. I have, however, arranged something a little more comfortable for tonight.’
He dropped a couple of student passes on the desk. ‘You’re now enrolled at Theia University under the names Aldrene Rathko and Luud Grun. You were born on Stave so you’ll need these too.’ He added a couple of behind-the-ear comms units. ‘They’re set up with your new identities and include several hundred contacts so they appear to be genuine.
‘Because you’re off-worlders, you qualify for on-campus accommodation. I’ve arranged a studio unit for you and your friends – when we find them.’
‘On-campus? But that is downtown, near Concordance.’
‘There are more than five thousand students at the university. You’ll blend in. Besides, the best place to hide is often in plain sight. And you can’t stay here. Wible and Thrum will be in soon. The fewer people that know about you, the better.
‘Which reminds me, give me a hand with this.’ He indicated the sofa Alkemy had been sleeping on, the one cover in red fabric. They got it onto a trolley-bot and guided it downstairs.
‘We’ll position it as though it’s just been unpacked. There, that should complete our cover story. In a few days’ time, the Science Council will receive a sofa they didn’t know they owned, re-covered in Calming Blue.
‘Now, let’s get to the university and get you settled in. I have a music vid I want you to help me finish off.
‘Music vid?’ Alkemy said, suddenly noticing his tired eyes.
Andop smiled. ‘It’s been a busy night.’
* * *
Coral was finished breakfast and flicking through vid channels by the time Tim emerged from his module.
‘Man, what a sleep!’ He stretched and yawned then slumped at the table.
‘Did you sleep in your clothes?’
‘Looks like it, eh?’ He looked at hers, neat and pressed. ‘Have you been shopping?’
‘I have two words for you,’ she said, pointing to a console on the other side of the common area. ‘Clothing fab.’
‘Huh?’
‘Here.’
She beckoned him over, stood him on a plate and pressed a button. A series of red laser lines crisscrossed him horizontally and vertically. The machine beeped, she took a corner of his T-shirt, clamped it in an analyser and pressed another button. Thirty seconds later, an identical copy, brand new and neatly pressed, dropped from a chute at the bottom.
Coral held it up. ‘There. Perfect size. Now do the rest of your stuff and throw your old clothes in the recycler.’
‘That’s neat,’ Tim grinned. ‘No laundry.’
‘It’ll only copy what you’ve got, and only do one of each, but it’s better than ... Oh my god!’
Norman pushed open the door of his module. His hair was sticking up on end and he was wearing nothing but a sheet wrapped around his middle.
‘Morning,’ he yawned.
Coral shoved Tim forward and covered her eyes. ‘Show him the clothing fab. I’m going for a walk. And see if there’s such a thing as Basic Memory Wiping.’
She returned half an hour later to find a litter of breakfast bowls on the table and Tim and Norman staring at the vidscreen, their mouths open as a music track faded out.
‘What are you two doing? Catching flies?’
Tim grabbed the remote. ‘Look at this. Or rather, listen to it. It’s called New Bot Order.’
The screen and speakers came to life. A pulsing rock track set to cleverly cut footage of Wilis and the thug-bots at Basic Plaza. There was a loop of Wilis issuing an order, barking the same words over and over, seemingly in time to the music, and shots of the thug-bots sped up and slowed down to make them look even more insect-like. The rhythm was infectious and the song would have been popular even without the clever editing, but the timeliness of it after yesterday’s events and the fact that it was the first public sighting of the Military Council’s new machines made it a winner. And then, right near the end, came a rap-like segment that went;
Alchemy is ludicrous.
Don’t try to teach me that.
You’re better off with Tech-Sci,
Theia-U is where it’s at.
It took Coral a moment to register. ‘Hey, that was in English!’
‘Yup. And look at this.’ Tim hit another button, showing the track’s popularity. It had had almost a hundred thousand viewings. ‘Everyone who hears it will automatically get the English module.’
‘Play that bit again.’ Tim did so. ‘It sounds a bit like Ludokrus.’
‘I think it is Ludokrus. He and Alkemy already speak English so don’t need the module. Whoever did the rest of the song just pasted that bit in without listening to it, otherwise they’d have risked being identified by Meli. Now, it doesn’t matter. Not with a hundred thousand viewings.’
‘A hundred and twenty thousand now.’ Norman pointed to the counter, ticking away like a race timer.
‘And those words ... that place ...’
‘Already on it,’ Norman called, flicking through Compendia. ‘Ha! That Andrew Something, the name you were trying to think of last night. Could it be Andop?’
‘Andop? That’s it! How did you get that?’
He looked up, grinning. ‘Andop Scolyfol is the chief registrar for the Tech-Sci department at Theia University. Do you think we should give him a call?’