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Rather than apologetic, Pan looked excited, waving the laptopin response to frowns. Nash made a 'geton with it' gesture, and Pan paused a moment to launch a word-processor andtype:
ALIEN OVERLORD SINGINGON YOUTUBE
He waited till they had all had a chance to be properlyincredulous, then switched windows to show the Japanese Blue, the Core of Taiee. She seemed tojust be standing, smiling cheerfully at the camera, but when Pan passed theheadphone ear buds around they could all hear the oscillating song which waspresumed to be the aliens' language.
Noi snagged a notepad and pen from the desk and scribbled: What's the text say? Googletrans plz.
A few clicks later they could see the clip was titled:"First" and the text below, posted by "Taiee",said: "First challenge call: Lot-nak".
This was hyperlinked, and Pan followed it to a site – a blogentry which was in Japanese but proved to also say "First challenge call:Lot-nak" above a time and date, a map of a golfcourse with a line drawn around its borders, a hyperlink to the video, and lasta picture of a small glowing ball which had just a suggestion of paws andtrailing ears.
"That's tomorrow?" Nash asked, then made anapologetic face.
Noi held up her pad: Whyare they using the internet? Can't theyuse their ships to talk to each other?
Min took the pad from her: Must have same limitations we do – without satellites, can'tcommunicate on other side of planet. Makes sense to use our tech, especially since they're in human bodies.
Maybe they can't usetheir ships while in human form? Pansuggested.
Fisher, a warm presence at Madeleine's side, had beenbrowsing a tablet computer, and wrote: Thisplace is in Manila. The PhilippinesSpire is there.
She said they've cometo settle primacy. They're holding acompetition and this is round one.
Pad held high, Noi frowned because everyone's attention hadshifted to the computer monitor beside her. Four people had crossed the walkway, coming from the main building. Then, just at the edge of the screen,movement in their apartment. Someoneheading up the spiral stair.
They sat frozen, not daring even to scribble notes, unsurewhether this was simply part of the Greens' search for bodies, or if theirpresence was suspected, looked for.
A creak, not a metre away, and they held their breath as aheavy step moved toward the master bedroom. Madeleine felt inexplicably invaded, even though it was not her home,not truly her room. She hunched downunhappily, and then Fisher shifted at her side, leaned a little closer. That was all, but it distracted her from theperson in her room.
The steps returned, heading toward the two superhero rooms,but the pace was brisk, and after only enough time to glance in the doors theperson moved for the stair, and down. Itwas a search for bodies then, not hidden Blues. They could relax, and wait it out.
There was no sign of anyone leaving the building, but Noiguessed that it would be easier to remove bodies via the garage level ratherthan take them over the walkway stairs, and so decided on a two hour delaybefore emerging, in hopes that would be long enough for any lingerersto make their presence obvious. Everyonehad brought something to do, and once staring at the Manila Golf Course hadlost its early attractions they settled to their separate entertainments. Madeleine,of course, had pla
Fisher was reading the first book of The Lord of the Rings,despite the movie marathon of the trilogy and prequels they'd held yesterday inan attempt to take their minds off aliens. Madeleine liked him a great deal when he was wearing his glasses and hadthat absorbed expression, so she began, through sideways glances, to capture asmall portrait which pleased her. Shemoved on to fill the page with her companions, lingering over Emilycross-legged on the filing cabinet reading the copy of The Three Musketeersshe had discovered with great excitement in the apartment library.
A study of each of them finished, and nearly an hour to go,she was hesitating over what to work on next when Fisher held out his hand forher pencil. She'd been aware that he'dstopped reading to watch her draw and, warmed by his interest, she'd been workingto do her absolute best. It wasinordinately difficult to not react to the faint brush of his arm against hers.
In tiny, precise letters he wrote: Draw Emily as aMusketeer.
Usually she didn't like bright suggestions about what sheshould draw, but this one sparked a response. She'd need a reference, though, so pointed at his abandoned tablet,using it to look up clothing, sabres, stances. But then, as a different picture crept into her thoughts, she switchedthe tablet to camera mode and held it above and a little before her, triggeringthe photo button with difficulty from the angle. After a miscalculation which captured onlyhalf her face, she managed a satisfactory shot of herself staring upward, andhanded the tablet to Fisher, gesturing for him to do the same.
He photographed himself obediently, paused to look at theresult and shook his head with a wry lift to the corner of his mouth. But handed the tablet over to her.
After some pantomime and a little stifled giggling, she hadseven photographs, and began to outline, covering the whole of a page in herlarge sketchbook with faint circles and lines, roughing out proportions andangles. It was a challenging picture, acircle of seven seen from above, each with a sabre raised to a central point,some faces smiling, some grave beneath their broad-brimmed hats and curlingfeathers.
"That's two hours," Noi said softly, breakingMadeleine's concentration. "I thinkwe can risk sending a scout now, but first I'm dying to see what the hell it isyou've been drawing Maddie."
Madeline passed the sketchbook around, and felt oddlybreathless, not at their pleased reactions, but at the implications of thatpicture. Blue Musketeers, united andbold.
She, too, agreed with Emily.
Chapter Twelve
"Will it bother you if I watch you paint?"
In the middle of setting out her first palette, Madeleineturned to find Fisher watching with an open interest which pleased and dauntedher. Since they'd run from the beachFisher had buried himself in one of the laptops, searching for any scrap ofdata he could use to fight back – pausing occasionally for meals ordiscussions, but usually to be found in the library window seat on ashadow-eyed quest for answers. Shewasn't sure why they all held on to the hope he'd find a way to fight back,beyond that he hadn't given up yet.
"Not if you stay quiet." She tried to keep her tone casual. "I usually tune distractions out whenI'm working."
"I noticed that yesterday." His smile was slow and warm. "I'll set a chair over here if that'sokay with you."
Madeleine shrugged, and avoided Noi'seye as she finished preparations, then stood before her easel entirely focusedon Fisher instead of her subjects. Butshe was longing to finish this painting, the light was good, and Noi had agreedthat the faint scent of acrylics weren't that big a risk now that the buildinghad been cleared. Even Fisher wasn'tenough to keep her from becoming completely absorbed.
Together on a couch set by the patio entrance, Emily and Noiwere a study of contrasts. Fine blondehair drifting beside foaming black curls. Slender height; compact curves. Shy pleasure at being painted against entertained interest inMadeleine's awareness of Fisher. Belowit all, never going entirely away: anger, hurt.
Madeleine blocked in colours, not pushing herself sofrantically this time, spending more effort on consciously analysing shadowtones before begi