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A strange dissonance cut through the music and Fisher's handtightened, then let her go. "Spiresong."
"Stupid Moths." Pan fumbled for the controls and paused his movie mid swordfight so theycould better hear the eerie sound, distant yet penetrating. "What are they up to now?"
"Sending the Greens back to whatever they were doingbefore the Challenge, I guess." Noistood and stretched. "Let's see ifwe can spot any movement, and finish the movie after di
After some debate about the wisdom of taking rooms closeenough to the ground to be able to shield-jump out the windows, they'd given into the view and settled into the most palatial suites, high on the Harbour sideof the hotel. These not only offeredtiny cinemas where a world of movies could be dialled on demand, they could beopened up into a single, enormous apartment by the unlocking of cleverlyconcealed sliding walls. One floor downfrom Open Sky, the top floor restaurant, they had plentiful food,carefully pla
It was late afternoon, and sunset crept up while they pitchedin to prepare their meal, so they chose a table to best take advantage of thespectacular vista. But despite a viewwhich stretched from Darling Harbour across the sweep of the North Shore, andpast the Bridge to glimpses of the Opera House, Madeleine found she didn't likeeating in the restaurant, where the array of empty tables only served to remindher of a city quietly rotting.
"Crimson skies and thunderclouds on thehorizon." Noi stared out to towardthe headlands, but there was no sign of the navy ships. "I could wish it had rained on themyesterday, but even then I have to think of their hosts, and whether they feeleverything the Moths do."
"Yeah." Pan's smile had faded. "Ittakes the fun out of pla
The pervasive song of the Spire filled every gap in theconversation, eerie and oppressive, but they pressed on, forcing brightchatter, watching the approaching storm as the colour faded from the sky.
As they were constructing elaborate ice cream sundaes, Fisherdisappeared downstairs and returned holding the binoculars. "Come look at this."
"Movement?" Noi crossed quickly to stand with him at the windows.
"Not quite. Lookat the hull of that overturned yacht just off Headland Park."
Frowning, Noi obeyed, seemed only puzzled as she peered intothe growing twilight, then suddenly snorted. She waved the binoculars. "Millie, check this out."
The younger girl's reaction to this mystery view was to gaspand say: "Oh, it can't be! I don'tbelieve it."
"Will you lot quit with the commentary and just tell uswhat you're looking at?" Min asked, exasperated.
"Glowing eyes," Noi said. "There's eyes painted on the hull. Must be some kind of phosphorescentpaint."
"We ran away from a boat?" Pan grabbed the binoculars and, after apause, burst out laughing. "Shit, Ifeel like such a dick."
This discovery provided a counterbalance to the song of theSpire, and they were able to revive the light good humour they'd been sodeliberately maintaining, to talk party plans over their dessert, to clean upin good humour and take pleasure in their return to their enormous suite.
"Guess we can check the news while we wait for the Spireto shut up," Pan said, and they clustered toward one of the loungeareas. Madeleine, struggling with theweight of the continued song, excused herself and headed to her room on the farleft of the interco
During their explorations they'd discovered storage roomsfull of items intended for the suites, from robes and kettles to some veryup-market varieties of miniature soap, bath salts, and hair product. Madeleine programmed the room's stereo systemwith a selection of her favourite jazz singers and Ella Fitzgerald began tocroon, the music loud enough that the Spire song was drowned. Stars blurred by steaming, scented water,Madeleine could finally allow herself to think of thirty people who had paidthe price of her freedom. Guilt over theactions of the Moths was stupid, but that wouldn't stop her.
The Spire song faded before her fingers had turned to prunesand, clean and warmly wrapped in one of the robes, she drifted out to the lamp-litlounge room and stood finger-combing her damp hair, listening to the stereo andwatching rain beat against the windows.
"Feeling better?"
"Now that it's stopped." She turned as Fisher rose from one of thechairs and crossed to her. He'dobviously bathed as well, and his dark mop was damp and almost tamed, while hisexpression was the closest to anxious she'd ever seen from him. "My cousin – the last time I spoke tohim, just before we went to Bondi – was talking about wordplay, bad puns onsong titles. I was just thinking thatI'm feeling Blue right now. Not sad,just...particularly when I've had a bath or shower I end up extremely aware ofthe velvety sensation. It makes me feellike I don't belong in my own skin."
"If it's any help, I think the velvet is a kind offield." His gaze dropped to thepoint where the robe crossed beneath the start of the stain on her chest andthe tips of his ears gave away the line of his thoughts, but he forged on inhis most neutral tone. "Your skinisn't velvet at all. But it's storing orgenerating power. Imagine touching amillion microscopic lightning bolts. Orhow it feels holding the like polarities of two magnets together. It's a sensation not inherent in the object,but produced by what is generated from it."
Giving up on talking, he lifted a hand, fingers hovering justbefore the patch around her eye, then brushed his thumb delicately over theunstained skin below. When was becomingnow, and Madeleine caught at his hand as he lowered it, clasped it firmly, thenmoved toward her room
Eyes wide but sure, Fisher followed, then hesitated at thedoor. "Protection," hemurmured, looking in the direction of his own room.
"Bedside drawer." Later she would have to thank Noi for insisting on practicality.
He pushed the door closed behind them, the room lit only bythe light spilling from the bathroom, and there was an awkward moment, so shefilled it by reaching up to kiss him. Tentative at first, with soft touches of hands to his back. He was wearing loose sports pants and aT-shirt and as their kisses deepened she found herself bold with impatience anddrew back to lift the shirt over his head.
Coat-hanger shoulders, and a chest still filling out, stripedlike a barber's pole with bright diagonal streaks of stars.
"You've got comets."
He made a face, said: "Please, I'm feeling awkwardenough," and self-consciously shucked his pants and underwear, becoming anaked boy gleaming with light, lifting his eyes to meet hers.
He was already partially erect, and later perhaps she wouldbe amused that his penis was striped as well, and that he visibly swelled asshe pulled loose the cord of her robe, letting it gape open. Stepping forward, he raised hands to hershoulders and smoothed them back so the robe fell around her feet, and then,breathing deeply, he took his time looking at her, bringing back to her yearsof feeling inadequate, of needing a bra to give herself breasts rather thanhold them up, and never would she have thought someone would gaze down at herbarely A-cups so reverently, or shake as he slid his hands forward and down tocover them.