Andrea Höst - And All the Stars

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?"

"Wherever those missiles went, it wasn’t to Rio," Min said, holding up a tablet. "The Moths aren’t acting like they’ve even noticed."

" Here they come! " gasped one of the rooftop women.

The image jumped sideways, then focused on the three jets, approaching in a tight triangular formation. A giant tower made an easy target, and each jet fired and peeled off in rapid succession.

"Shield’s back."

Noi, voice flat, let go of Madeleine’s shoulder as the blooms of fire died.

"And now we find out if they meant it about reprimands ," Min said, trying for his usual caustically delighted tone, but lacking the enthusiasm for it.