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They were both Greens, and the brief discomfort that factinspired bothered Madeleine inordinately. There was no reason to feel any different about Greens, and certainlyNick and Shaun were nothing but nice as they showed off the stain-coveragediagrams they'd created – a front, back, left and right outline of a genericperson – and enthusiastically highlighted almost all of hers.
"Thanks for keeping my name out of it," Madeleinetold Fisher, as Noi and Emily filled out their sheets.
He nodded absently, surveying the beach. "Another advantage to starting thisearly. You followed the discussion onfields versus punches?"
"Yeah." Naturally many Blues hadn't waited for formal test sessions after hispost on 'Subject M', and it had quickly been established that two differentexpressions of power were possible: 'punches' focused and pushed out, orprotective fields. Fields seemed a lotharder to create, but within an hour of the post Blues began reporting thatthey'd successfully paralysed themselves by surrounding themselves entirelywith a field, and then trying to throw it like a punch. "Nice to know I did thatass-backward," she muttered.
"You destroyed a car with a shield," he said. "I don't want anyone else on this beachwhen you try to punch. Let's see if wecan get into the lifeguard tower."
This was easily accomplished with the aid of "Noi's Little Helper" – a small crowbar usually used toopen delivery crates – and they explored the circular observation level,deciding to ignore the beach vehicles kept in a locked garage below.
Pan made a quick, efficient burglar. "Binoculars, first aid stuff – man, Ikeep expecting the lifeguards to show up and have a go at us."
"They might still," Nash said.
They moved down to the sand, Fisher leading Madeleine to theedge of the surf while the others waited by the stairs.
"The beach is a kilometre long, and we're halfway, soyou've got five hundred metres of unbroken sand in either direction,"Fisher said. "We'll do the testsright at the wave wash, so it'll be clear each time. Do you think you can punch instead of usingthe shield?"
"We practiced yesterday afternoon." Madeleine pointed at a shell and focused theroil of energy inside her into the tiniest little blip, sending the shellshooting away in a spray of sand. "No more dramatic collapses for me."
Fisher smiled. "At least a softer landing here. And a better setting." Hegazed down the vast stretch of beach to the rocky rise of cliffs at thesouth-western end, his face contemplative. After a moment his determined brows lowered in remembered anger, and heturned toward the centre of the city, but they were too low and too far for theSpire to be visible. "Go all out," he added. "And try to keepthe punch flat, scoring the surface rather than digging into the sand."
He strode back up the beach while Madeleine hooked off hersandals and hitched up that day's maxi-dress. The damp sand felt incredible against her velvet skin, and she shiveredwhen the water rushed up to caress her feet. The last trace of mist had already burned off, and the blues of sky andwater were shifting, deepening. Therewere no seagulls, no voices, no cars; just the soughing of the waves.
Madeleine glanced back. They were all clustered together at the bottom of the tower stairs, morethan fifty metres away, Nash and Shaun holding cameras at ready. The question of angles preoccupied her, andshe eventually knelt, and cupped her hands before her knees, focused down thelong, slightly curving line of surf, and poured everything inside her down throughher arms, her palms, out.
THOOOOMMMMMM!!!
The noise shocked her, and she jerked. Since she'd angled a little low, gougingunderground, this lifted the punch, sand exploding up for the whole of perhapsa hundred metres. The leading edge ofwater poured and foamed into the instant trench, and Madeleine took a deep,shuddering breath, wondering at the sudden rush of exultation.
"Damn, Maddie, I am never going to piss you off!"
Pan had run down, Noi and Shaun close behind. He was lit high with excitement, but pausedto help her back to her feet and then pushed a brightly coloured stick into theground a few metres to her right before trotting down the line of the trenchwith another.
"No pins and needles? Urge to imitate statues?"
"I'm fine." Breathing deeply, Madeleine took the sandals Noi held out, trying toreconcile the rush of excitement with a sick feeling in her stomach. "Like I'd run up a lot of stairs. Just...trying not to picture what wouldhappen to any people in the way."
"If they were Blues, we think they'd auto-protect,"Gavin said, coming up with the others.
"Auto-protect?" Noi repeated. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Tap me with a finger-punch and I'll show you."
"Seriously?"
He gave her a mock-sultry look. "I know you'll be gentle with meNoi."
"I'm immune to your lash-batting," Noi toldhim. "Okay, you asked for it."
Waiting till Nick and Fisher had moved out of the way, shepointed at his shoulder. Madeleinecouldn't see the punch, but she realised she was begi
"Now do it again, a good solid palm-shot."
Frowning, Noi obeyed, and this time the shield was obvious,making the air around Gavin shimmer.
"It doesn't work if you bean him with a cricketball," Pan said, jogging up. "Not automatically anyway, though if you see one coming you can tryto shield in time."
"While we just get punched," Nick said, pulling hisshirt down so they could see a round, red mark above a patch of green. "Seriously cheated in the specialabilities department."
"Could be we just haven't figured it out yet,"Shaun put in, looking up as he tied the end of a colourful ball of wool to thefirst stick. "You Blueberries canbe brute force, and Greens will be the brains."
He trailed off down the beach, unreeling the ball of wool,which switched colours at regular intervals, and Pan followed him, pushing astick into the sand at each colour change.
Madeleine's punch had reached over one hundred and fiftymetres. Her nearest rival was Gavin,managing fifty. Then Noi, Emily, Fisherand Pan, mildly indignant at measuring lowest. Madeleine spent her time on the lifeguard tower's steps, sketching,snacking, and watching Nash, not surprised when he kept to his role ascameraman and did not test.
Pan dealt with any disappointment by playing the fool forEmily, drawing her out until she was pink-cheeked and giggling, convincing herto put her fine pale hair in a bun and calling: "Come on Tink!" as they raced along the line of sticks toconfirm the length of each punch.
It wasn't until they'd eaten a second breakfast, and Pan hadled Nick and Shaun off to investigate the food opportunities of the BondiPavilion, that Madeleine had a chance to speak to Nash. He and Fisher had paused, as they all dideventually, to watch her sketch.
"Can I look–?" Fisher asked, pleasingly surprisedand interested, and she handed the sketchpad to him, glad she'd taken theprecaution of removing a couple of sheets before heading out.
Madeleine studied their faces as they turned over pages,stopping particularly at the portrait of Noi sleeping to say impressedthings. Compliments were something shestruggled with. Either she thought themover-effusive, a lie with ulterior motives, or she dismissed them as theopinions of people who didn't know what they were talking about. Better than the alternative, of course, butshe never expected real appreciation.