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"All clear," Noi said, a fraction louder.
"Lift off."
There was a gurgle of water to accompany Nash's response, andthen another as Noi pushed the boat away from the dock, and Fisher and Min usedtheir oars to prod them out the rest of the way.
Rowing lessons had been the highlight of the wait formoonset. Boats made of couch cushions,and brooms for oars, with Nash patiently drilling them with the motions despitethe spurts of giggles born of a long night's tension. Madeleine felt little urge to laugh now, asthey eased clear of the slip and began to turn, with water making blooping noises off the oars, and a faint creak from theoarlocks. Unlikely to be heard no matterhow well sound carried over water, but she still stared back over her shoulderat the long bulk of the Wharf, searching for movement. There would be no outru
As they picked up speed, passing the North Building, Madeleinebegan to relax. There was nothing butparkland on their left, and a long gap to the navy base on the far side of theWharf. The Bay had few sources of light,and they were leaving those behind, scudding along beneath a cloak of stars,invisible.
"Destination: North Pole," Noi muttered, andsqueezed Madeleine's hand.
Webcams had ruled out other choices. Circular Quay seemed to be a hive of Mothactivity, while a beach cam had provided glimpses of smaller craft moving nearWatson's Bay, making it clear that a speedboat dash past the headlands and outof the Harbour would not merely be a matter of avoiding two very large,weapon-festooned ships. Finally,representing the uninfected portion of Australia, some isolation-suitedreporters had settled down with long-range cameras to watch Greens stationed atroadblocks, broadcasting through the night and incidentally making it evenharder for free Blues to sneak out of the city. So the Musketeers were gambling on refrigerating themselves.
Three hours till dawn. Four kilometres to row. Sydney'scity heart was shaped like a partially unfolded fan, with the Spire in HydePark located on the lower right edge of the narrower southern end. Woolloomooloo Bay sat just east of the fan'stop right stretch of parkland, and they were aiming to row out of the Bay andcurve around the cove-notched upper edge, keeping to a central point betweenthe north and south shore until they'd passed beneath the Harbour Bridge andcould turn down the western side of the fan to the newly-developed waterfrontarea called Barangaroo.
It had seemed a vast distance when they were poring overmaps, but caught up in the sensation of floating through blackness, Madeleinefound their arrival in the open water of the harbour came disconcertinglyquickly, their narrowed view opening up to the shimmering golden sweep of the NorthShore. Constellations of abandonedapartment blocks, and suburban nebulae: terrestrial stars which spun and bobbedas the dinghies hit the swell outside the shelter of the bay.
Facing the wrong direction to appreciate the vista, Fishersaid: "The current's not too bad. Tell me when we reach the turn point."
The turn point was halfway to a small island called FortDenison, helpfully furnished with a squat lighthouse. When Noi gave the word, Fisher and Min backedtheir oars, slowing forward motion.
In the relative quiet which followed, they could clearly makeout the creak and splosh of the second dinghy, and Noi called softly: "Duk-duk! Duk-duk!" Anonsense sound, their chosen signal to try to orient the two boats in thedark. Their theory was that the noisecould be mistaken for a bird, and Madeleine supposed it was mildly less obviousthan "Over here!", but it did sound silly, and Emily's stifled gigglein response came to them clearly over the shush of the ocean.
Nash and Pan succeeded in following the sound, andMadeleine's straining eyes caught the shape of them just before a thin, wetrope smacked her in the face. Shemanaged to catch it, and with a small amount of manoeuvring the two boats weresoon side-by-side, temporarily lashed together.
"Any sign?" Nash asked, serious, but with a measureof exultation lighting his voice. Desperate and dangerous as this might be, the Harbour was transcendent.
"No movement to the west," Fisher replied.
Noi had the binoculars, and was peering as far down to theHarbour entrance as the angle would permit. "I think those lights belong to one of the big ships," shesaid. "It must have moved in fromthe Heads, but doesn't seem to be coming any closer. You four fine to go on after a couple ofminutes' rest, or do you want to try swapping about?"
"It's easier than I expected," Min said. "Not that I won't complain about itlater, but I shouldn't have problems with the full run."
"My only worry is I don't want to stop," Pansaid. "This is the most incrediblething I've ever done. I feel like I'mflying." He went on, whispering,but his stage-trained voice lifting irresistibly:
"Take him and cuthim out in little stars,
And he will make theface of heaven so fine
That all the world willbe in love with night
And pay – oof!"
"Enough, Juliet," Nash said, sitting ready to bopthe shorter boy again. "You cangive us a command performance in the refrigerator."
"Somehow, I don't think that'll have quite the sameatmosphere." Pan heaved a greatsigh, a combination of regret and sheer delight, but didn't argue further.
"After the challenge," Noi said, a smile in hervoice. "We'll find a stage and youcan perform for all of us. Right now,everyone take a few breaths. We need tocalm down."
They drifted slowly, giving themselves another few moments toenjoy their surroundings, then separated the dinghies and returned to thebusiness of escape. Madeleine's role asa non-rower was both lookout and defender, should they encounter anything. The fact that a well-aimed punch couldscupper a boat had been part of the arguments both for and against trying tomake a dash out through the headlands, and there'd also been an amusingdiscussion on whether shields could be used as a form of propulsion, or wouldmerely be a spectacular way to overturn.
The long dark stretch of the Royal Botanic Gardens gave wayto curving white shells lit by spotlights. Madeleine wondered if the lights were automatic, or if the Moths orGreens were turning them on. Perhapsthey, too, were reciting Shakespeare or, more likely, singing in theiroscillating language. The world knew solittle of what the Moths were like, what they were doing with their hosts,whether glowing balls of light had any interest in the words, the music, thepictures to be found in the cities they had stolen. There had been indications – Greens sent toobtain fresh milk and meat – that the Moths were at least interested in Earth'sfood, but given the Blue hunger drive that was hardly surprising.
It wasn't until the dinghy was almost past the Opera Housethat they had a good view into the rectangular notch of Sydney Cove, with theferry docks and train station at its southern end. Noi, peering through the binoculars, murmuredthat there was no sign of anyone, but Fisher and Min still increased their paceas they approached Dawes Point and the sweep of well-lit bridge above. The Harbour Bridge was such a focal point,and at some angles the passage of even a low boat might be visible against thelights of the North Shore, so they'd pla