“Welcome back,” he said. “I heard you got in early this morning.”
Savi glanced at the two other people in the garage. Dimon was a lot larger and even more menacing than Akkar, filling the role of lieutenant and enforcer. He never spoke much, and when he did it was in a whisper that emphasized his words more than any shout. Unlike most of Kintore’s residents, he always wore a smart suit, which made him look like an ex–sports star.
Julisa sat in a chair next to Akkar, a twenty-two-year-old from Cairns, whose family used to run a crocodile farm just outside the town. Its bankruptcy and subsequent sale by the banks to developers hungry for such a prime chunk of land kicked her environmentalism into something approaching religious devotion, drawing her deeper into the movement until she reached the status of Akkar’s cyber queen. She was painfully thin, surviving off caffeine and nose candy, as far as Savi could tell. Bleached blond hair was cut to an all-over centimeter bristle, giving her the face of an angry, strung-out pixie.
“I didn’t tell anyone that,” Savi said. She was impressed as always by Akkar’s intel. Given he refused to use the internet or any kind of mobile network to communicate with his radical friends, he had to have a pack of real people watching Kintore’s barren streets.
“I know.” He smiled. Violet printer light twinkled off his teeth jewels. “Did you get it?”
Savi nodded, giving herself a long moment of satisfaction, showing them how pleased she was with herself, how committed. “Sure.” She unslung her backpack, and brought out the two plastic food boxes. “Don’t drop it,” she warned as Julisa picked one up eagerly.
“You have interesting friends,” Dimon said.
“Who said they were friends?” she shot back.
Akkar held up a hand. “You’ve done well, Osha. Thank you for bringing us this.”
“Does this get me in on the action?” she asked.
“Do you want to get into the action?”
“I want to do something, make people take notice of what’s really going on here. Posting rants on MyLife don’t do shit.”
He glanced over at Julisa, who had carefully opened one of the food boxes. She stuck a small sensor on it, and glanced at the readout on a screen.
“Real,” she said.
“Okay,” Akkar said slowly. “Three days’ time.”
“First fall,” she said approvingly.
“Yes.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Turn up here at eight. We’ll give you something to do.”
“Okay.”
“Aren’t you curious?”
She returned his gaze steadily. “Yes, but I get how security works. If you don’t know, you can’t tell.”
“Smart girl. But I’ll be asking you to plant some of this fine explosive you’ve brought us. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Just tell me, will I have to put it near people?”
“No. People are not the target. Life is sacred.”
“Okay.” She slung her backpack on again. “Be seeing you.”
Savi walked home slowly and used Misra to message active ops.
I’ve been told the operation will happen on first fall. 90% certain that’s for real. They’re being cautious. I will be taking part. Details as soon as I find out what they’re doing.
Misra sent it in a microsecond pulse while she was still on Main Street. Savi wouldn’t have put it past Julisa to put e-surveillance around her digs.
An answering pulse came thirty seconds later.
Stay safe.
Yuri.
—
The gigantic earthmoving equipment digging canals across the desert stopped work at midnight before first fall day. Desert Water’s PR agency hoped that would at least reduce the quantity of infernal red dust in the air by the time the great event began midmorning, allowing cameras a decent view. All the big vehicles began driving across the desert for Kintore’s airstrip field, where the contractors had scheduled them for maintenance.
A lot of people started arriving through Kintore’s portals as dawn began to break, coming in not just from Australia’s cities but from across the globe. Icefall promised to be quite a spectacle.
From Kintore, they went through a newly installed portal to a viewing area that had been prepared ninety kilometers from the town. Long tents serving iced drinks and snacks had been set up, along with air-conditioned medical marquees ready for the inevitable heatstrokes. One of the dry canals ran close by, its three-hundred-meter width giving everyone a sense of the project’s scale.
A temporary VIP stadium had been built inside a high security fence, its overhanging roof protecting the dignitaries from the severe sunlight, but nothing could be done to keep the desert heat at bay. The forecast had it rising to thirty-three degrees Celsius by mid-morning.
Savi had never seen so many people in the desert town before. A month ago, Cal had taken her to a football match in Manchester. The crowds of boisterous supporters pouring into the stadium gates had been easier to push through than this. Everyone was heading along Main Street to the portal that would take them to the viewing area.