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"Head shot," Noi said promptly.

Pan nodded at her. "And wooden stakes for vampires, and silver bullets forwerewolves. And penicillin forbacteria. But we don't have theslightest idea what to do about dust and starry towers. Information is a weapon, a defence, a firststep to everything according to Fish, and we need to gather as much as possiblebefore the next wave of infections, so we can act rather than react. He and the other big contributors on BlueGreen even think they've found a way to increaseGreen survival rates. So I've wanted topunch him a few times, but I'm feeling a bit 'Oh, Captain! My Captain!' at themoment as well. All the teachers left, y'know? Had theirown families to look after, though I guess some of them meant to comeback. Fish stayed, and now he's gone andfallen down some stairs. Which isdistinctly uncool of him, really."

Nash reached out and put a calming hand on the shorter boy'sshoulder, and Pan let out his breath.

"End soliloquy," he muttered. "But, damn, it would be stupid to diefrom falling down, after all this."

"Seriously, I don't think he's that bad," Noi said,snapping the kit shut. "His heartrate and breathing seem to be normal, anyway, and that's as far as my basicfirst aid is going to take us. We'll putsome ice on the lump, see if that helps. How many are left at that school of yours? Do you need food to take back?"

They moved to the kitchen, discussing the boarding school'scatering resources, and perishable food which should be eaten first. Of the three hundred boarders at the school,sixty-two were still alive. TwelveBlues, and the rest Greens not ready to look after themselves. The Fish boy had probably collapsed fromexhaustion, rather than hunger or mystery attacks.

"Is your name really Pan?" Noi asked, hunting out abox to hold milk and meat while Madeleine wrapped ice in a cloth serviette.

"Lee Rickard, at your service," Pan said, with alittle bow.

"Then why Pan?"

"Can't you guess? Should I go find some green tights? I've played him three times – totally typecast." He mimed a quick sword fight, dancing aroundthe cramped kitchen. "And this isAvinash Sharma. Gav is Gavin Wells, andsleeping beauty out there is Fisher Charteris."

Madeleine glanced through the one-way panel set in thekitchen door and started, because 'sleeping beauty' was gone. She pushed the door open, and spotted himstanding in the outdoor eating section. As she watched he lifted a shaky hand to his head, and sat down on thenearest chair.

Fish – Fisher – didn't react as she approached, all hisattention focused out, and up. Madeleinepaused before speaking because she still didn't have her sketch pad and shebadly wanted to draw all five of her new acquaintances, but this one most ofall. With those dark, straight brows hemust always appear a trifle severe, but right now, his light brown eyes fixedon the Spire, he looked positively murderous.

"Plotting revenge?" Her attempt at lightness fell flat as he jumped, then clutched his headall the harder. "Sorry. Try this." She pressed the serviette against his head,then almost dropped it when he tried to bat it away. Once he'd realised what it was and took hold,she stepped back because now his glare was directed at her.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"I just – well, you looked angry."

The glare faded, and he glanced back at the Spire. "Aren't you? All this useless death. Don't you want to tear that down and stamp onthe pieces?"

"I–" Madeleine felt off-balance, and wondered if there was something wrongwith her for not feeling that way. "I guess I've been thinking of it as a natural disaster," shesaid. "Though I suppose 'natural'is entirely the wrong word for giant starry towers."



"Fish!" Panled the others out of the restaurant, and slid a box of food onto a nearbytable. "Damn, you had usworried. What happened? Were you attacked?"

The older boy stared at him blankly, then his mouth twistedwith sudden amusement. "Did he fallor was he pushed?" he asked. "I wish I could pretend to something less feeble than feelingdizzy. Where's Gavin?"

"Gone to get his car. Madeleine and Noi here found you."

Fisher seemed a unhurried sort of person, taking his timelooking first Noi and then Madeleine up and down. His gaze lingered on Madeleine's starry feetand she self-consciously tucked them beneath the hem of her dress, prompting aquick look of comprehension.

"You both have stain covering at least a quarter of yourbodies, yes?" he said, with an air of a theory confirmed. "Only the stronger Blues seem to befully recovered, even though the surge initially left us barely able tomove."

"Lucky us." Noi held up her hands, the palms glimmering with light. "I can't stand not knowing what comesnext. Will that thing spit out moredust? Will we keep changing?"

"What happens next is rotting corpses," Fishersaid, surveying the city skyline, window upon mute window. "Because people went home to die, itisn't as bad as it could be, but at the very least it will be unpleasant. It may even be a bigger problem around thecity fringes, where the survival rate is higher, and the living are morethoroughly mixed with the dead. Thegovernment needs to stop futilely trying to ban travel, and start finding a wayto arrange corpse disposal. Or at leastensure that the water supply isn't compromised, so we don't exchange onesickness for another."

"They'll stop flailing eventually," Pan said. "Maybe. It's better to still have the government than be like the US, anyway,with all its new presidents. AndChina. And Pakistan and...and...hey,nuclear weapons aren't kept near big cities, right?"

"If it's nuclear you're worried about, concentrate onpower plants," Nash put in. "And, see that?" Hepointed at a distant thread of smoke rising beyond the parkland which blockedtheir view of the harbour centre and the North Shore. "That is our now. Non-automated, high manpower vital services,like fire fighters and doctors – none of those are here. International transport is...not necessarilygone, just limited. In the medium termwe will see fuel rationing. At this timethere are thousands of functioning towns and cities worldwide, with police andhospitals and all that we're used to, but they're overwhelmed by all the peoplewho've fled out of the Spire cities, and transport of food will belimited. Add to that the dust stillcirculating on the wind, meaning there will continue to be outbreaks, anywhereand everywhere. But...so far there hasbeen no sign that this is transmissible person-to-person, so we are not beyondthe point of recovery."

Nash glanced up at the Spire, not adding the obvious caveat,then turned his gaze on the long wharf stretching out into the water.

"Tyler Vaughn lives here," he remarked, givingMadeleine a tiny shock.

"So do Nikki Zee and Jason Kadia,"Noi said, nodding. "I think onlyNikki Zee's in residence right now, though. I saw Tyler Vaughn a few times when I first started working here, sincehe uses the restaurants a lot. But notlately."

"Filming FiveBlades in LA," Pan said knowledgably. "Which, dammit, I was looking forward to."

Not at all wanting to talk about Tyler, Madeleine unhookedthe pair of glasses she'd rescued and handed them to Fisher. "We managed not to stand on these,"she said.

"Thanks." Heheld them up so he could look through the lenses, then tucked them away. "Something far from easilyreplaced."

"Food does not worry me as much as medicine," Nashsaid. "Any kind of–" He looked down, eyes widening, and fished aphone from a pocket, glanced at the screen and was beaming by the time hebrought it to his ear.