2023

  Then, it started. I looked at the fire feed. In a tight ring. All at once. From Emerald to Beaconsfield and further eastward. Not just your random firebug. Coordinated, synchronised. As if those lighting it anticipated how it would come up on the screen. Designed to terrify. And it did. Now the room was active. Lots of coordination happening. But no planes or helicopters - it was way too windy. The ground crews were in motion.

  Looking at the traffic display, it was clear that the ground crews were impeded by people fleeing. Still some got through. Several of the fires were out. But too many were not.

  At first I thought I was imagining it. A second line of red dots, showing new outbreaks. Precisely positioned to build the momentum from the first wave. Now the firefront was about 20 kilometres in width. Driven by that wind. Now the room was quiet again. Nothing we could do.

  I looked across at the traffic display. Then I switched to the surveillance cameras, for the wide view of the highway at Pakenham. Cars everywhere. People fleeing any way they could. On foot. On bicycles. I looked at the fire status, and saw the firefront coming over the hill. A wall of flame, driven by that wind.

  Slowly, quietly, I walked to the front of the room. My colleagues looked at me, as if trying to read my face. But I just kept walking. Out into the street. The heat enveloping me. It was as if I could sense thousands of souls departing the planet. As if I could hear them screaming. I slumped against the outside wall, sitting on the footpath. Tears streaming down my face.

  When I got up and walked away, I knew that I actually was walking away, that I would never return to the wall of lights.

  Chapter 19

  All around us things were falling apart. None of us had seriously thought about leaving. Now it was too late. Chancing the blockade was not really feasible. You only had about a one in ten chance of making it through. When you got outside Australia, nobody really would take you. Say ‘I'm from Australia’ and you might as well say ‘I'm a paedophile’ or ‘I've got smallpox’. It was like that.

  Standing outside Flinders St station, the newsfeed on top of the hotel opposite was shouting stuff. Prime Minister making some sort of announcement.

  "The blockade strikes at the heart of our country. We will not surrender our freedoms, our way of life."

  I was waiting for Kylie. Looking up Swanston St I could see a bicycle cutting through, going faster. Of course it was her.

  "Ready for your first meeting?"

  "What, now?"

  Would it be a grilling by the leadership? Like a job interview? I guess some time to prepare wouldn't really help.

  I hadn't expected this at all. We walked up Swanston St. Not so crowded. I was bracing myself. Am I going to fit in here? Kylie led me into the cafe. Headed towards a table at the back. I sat down and looked across. Alice.

  "Somebody you should meet." said Kylie

  "Who's this?" said Alice

  I didn't know what to say. I had wondered if Alice was somewhere in the organisation. I stared. I shouldn’t have stared. But it was awful. The recognition. The resemblance.

  "I'm your father."

  "Bullshit."

  "I've been looking for you.”

  "My father died before I was born."

  She looked across at Kylie. Kylie just smiled. I continued.

  "No, that's just a story your mother invented. She didn't want you to know me. Wanted me blanked out of your life."

  So we went through it. The whole history. Kylie filled in gaps. Obviously they had researched, and figured that this had to be resolved first. It was the resemblance that threw me. It was spooky.

  "I thought I was here to be interviewed by operational commanders." I asked.

  "You are."

  "Oh."

  I looked across at Kylie. She laughed, at last. A lot to take in. Alice kicked into operational mode

  "You'll be assigned a role. Most likely in intelligence, given your background. We all take operational roles. We are not big enough to have back room people."

  We were more or less ushered outside. Not the meeting I had anticipated. Kylie grabbed me and almost pulled me over as we walked to where the bikes were.

  "You should have seen your face." she said

  "You should have told me."

  "Not allowed to."

  "How high up is she?"

  "No. 2."

  "Oh."

 

  Chapter 20

  I sent quite a few messages to Alice before I got a response.

  An instant parent. Just add water. Except that Alice was a fully grown adult, and I didn't have the slightest idea what being a parent was.

  So it was that Alice and I found ourselves sitting on opposite sides of a table. Quiet. Thoughtful.

  "Why didn't she tell me that you existed? Did she really hate you? " Alice asked. Direct and to the point. Her eyes strong, but betraying emotion.

  "It was a long time ago. I'm not sure." I said.

  "Yes, it was exactly twenty-one years and eight months ago. Have a crack at it." She said. No escape. I didn't expect any.

  "We were young. I was young. I was living in this house, sharing with a girl, Noni. She had a friend that visited. I remember the first time I saw her I just couldn't take my eyes off her. I was lost from that moment."

  That stopped her. A glint of understanding.

  "How long were you together?”

  "Not so long. A few months"

  "Wham bam, thankyou mam." She said.

  I looked into her eyes. The toughness. It was an act, and it wasn't an act.

  "No. Not like that. We were close. Really close."

  "So what happened?"

  "One day we were together. Next day, she was gone."

  "Just like that."

  "Yes, just like that."

  "You never tried to make contact?"

  Now I was struggling. My eyes welled up, and I tried for the tears not to fall out of my eyes. She could see it, and I could sense that she was shocked.

  "I tried for years. All the usual hacks. But she was too good at hiding."

  "She was pregnant. She never told you."

  "No."

  "So what made you decide to find me?"

  "I didn't. I got an email."

  "Who from?"

  "Your mother."

  "When?"

  "Two months ago."

  She went through it. Alice and her mother were increasingly at risk. Followed constantly. All their computers hacked. A growing sense of dread.

  Late at night - a full assault. Only Alice and Max fought their way out. No wonder she had that hard look in the eyes.

  "So after all these years, she contacts you. Why?"

  "Blind faith, I guess."

  "So was her faith justified?"

  Our eyes met.

  "We'll just have to see."

  Chapter 21

  Colin was tired. Not at all in the mood for an emergency meeting. The junior spooks were presenting. Lots of clever graphics. He struggled to take it in. All the graphs sagged in the same direction. Not a pretty picture. What was this one? Food supply. Now that no ships were coming in or out of any port only domestic food was available. So, food to reduce by 30%. Water was a continuing struggle. Energy held to about 80%, but almost all of it was coal fired.

  It was like it was ‘golden opportunity for junior spook day’. They were all here, pitching. A crisis was an opportunity, and they weren’t going to miss this for the world. God they give me the shits, he thought. I’d like to pick one up by the neck and hold it until it turned blue. Now they were building up to their new intelligence.

  “As you know, some time ago we succeeded in breaking into the clearing station. Let me remind you this is an internet marketplace for terrorist acts. Funding sources put out actions, and groups bid for the right to carry them out.”

  Colin struggled to keep his eyes open. Of course everything was virtual. With the state of modern surveillance, nobody was going to take the risk of phys
ical meetings.

  “The key Asian funds have an action against CoalGen: the bidding has been accepted by the Abromowitz group. If this action succeeds we will have less than 20% power for at least three months.”

  Colin was awake now. They were running through the slides: Kylie Rogers, Alice Nguyen. Phil’s slide came up. He had a bad feeling, a very bad feeling.

  Chapter 22

  “Dogs.” Phil said. Out of the blue.

  “Huh?” I said

  “Sandown dogs Thursday.”

  “You’re going?”

  “No, we are going.”

  I’d only been once before. To humour him. A desperado’s convention. There’s no jockey, so it’s a genuine contest. At least that is the theory. A flying gaggle of greyhounds after a pretend white rabbit. Down market didn’t describe it.

  “Sure. Anytime.” Immediately I regretted it.

  So here we were on the Pakenham line, heading towards Sandown. Clayton, Huntingdale. Not so many lights you could see from the train now. Lots of cyclists, following the road beside the railway. Cargo bikes at the shops.

  Huddled in the crowd, walking towards the track, I seized the moment to quiz him.

  “The China-India fund?” I asked

  “Our newest and richest friends?”

  “Yes. Them.”

  “Masters of the Universe. Dr. Evil. Usual stuff.”

  “No, seriously. They are business people. What do they want from us?”

  “Maybe Australia gives them the shits. Smug. Rich. Trashing the planet.”

  Of course that wasn’t it. I could see I wasn’t going to get anywhere. Tonight wasn’t about serious discussion. It was about the dogs.

  Up in the stands, Phil was grinning. Beer in hand.

  “I like Kinetica in the first. Serious form.”

  “OK. You’re the genius.”

  So we sipped the beer and waited. Stadium was lit up like a Christmas tree. It got supply priority. The novelty of something this brightly lit up was quite something.

  All of a sudden they were off. Kinetica was gallant, but at the final turn Swanky Path streaked past it to claim the prize. Near the finishing post there was a great swirl of people shouting and grabbing each other. For some reason I thought of the inevitable surveillance that would be following us. The deeper we got inside the crowd, the more difficult it was for them. Looking around you couldn’t help but wonder. Him? Or her?

  Phil moved towards the owner’s circle. I followed, a bit mystified. Clearly not going to congratulate the winners. He looked back, and gestured for me to follow. He moved towards the centre of the crowd. The proud owners, accepting congratulations.

  Steve and Marcus, the proud owners of Swanky Path. Phil moved up, and congratulated Marcus.

  “Fast dog.”

  “Fast world.”

  I was right next to Phil. Steve passed a small package, and Phil pocketed it. It was such a small movement. We made our way out of the crowd, out of the stadium and headed back.

  “The timing is critical?” Phil asked

  “Absolutely. It has to be exact.”

  “So how does it work.”

  “You understand the futures market?”

  “I think so. You buy a contract on what BHP will be worth tomorrow, or in a month’s time. If you are in the right direction, you win. Wrong, you lose.”

  “Yes. It’s all about the uncertainty of the future.”

  “Except that our great and powerful friends are making their own future.”

  “Exactly. After we blow the CoalGen generators their share price will drop like a stone. Our friends have hundreds of millions of dollars riding on that fall. Much better to make your own future than hang around waiting to see what develops.”

  Chapter 23

  We were just up from the Exhibition gardens, in an old terrace: Max, Alice, Kylie, Phil and the rest of the group. At night you could see the gardens, the light of the campfires. So many tents.

  Kylie was in the corridor going to the front meeting room. Didn't even look up.

  "Bike ride" I said.

  "What?"

  "Interested in a bike ride?"

  "You joking?"

  "Never been more serious."

  Any excuse, I thought.

  We had to take the anti-tag precautions. Searching for electronics. Scanning each other first. A tag could be deadly. In a clear open space, even the satellites could pick up on the tags if they had line of sight.

  Out into Nicholson Street. Fast. We had to lose anyone trailing, but it was really the adrenalin kicking in. Down the middle of the street. No cars really now. Over Victoria Street. The hospital was lit up. It had its own supplies. Past Parliament House. Badly damaged. Abandoned really. Only the Federal government really operated still. Down Collins Street, left at Swanston, heading for Flinders St.

  Sure enough, there was a car trailing us. At a distance.

  "Here's the fun bit." Kylie shouted.

  Incorrigible, I thought. The objective here is just to get away and back. She couldn't resist playing with them. Down Flinders St. Heading out towards Docklands. Then double back. They were following at a distance. I could see them chatting on the phone. Getting instructions. We were heading East along Flinders St.

  "Subway" she shouted.

  At the corner of Elizabeth and Flinders streets, Kylie jumped off the bike, put it over her shoulder and ran down the steps. I followed. We ran along the subway, past the train station, across the river bridge and out onto the walking track. No, they hadn't seen it coming, we had lost them, and we could now just make our way lazily back.

  Most of the buildings were deserted. One or two trams still running. People wandering. We laughed and headed back. I had an occasion to go to.

  Alice’s friend Peter. I think that’s how he was introduced. A semi-social type occasion. ‘Adaptation to climate change’. One of those nice type events. I didn’t imagine that starvation and civil war would be on the agenda.

  All very genteel. Graphs and projections. In the early days I’d felt like asking ‘...precisely what percentage of the population will starve to death?’. But you didn’t do that sort of thing in polite society.

  Alice was speaking. That was an experience. Forthright didn’t adequately describe it. To me she was so young. She was. It was a disconnect. But she was good at this.

  “There is no greater threat to Australia’s ongoing security than the coal industry.”

  You could almost see them shifting in their seats.

  “Yes, it is extremely profitable. So was tobacco. So was blood diamonds. The world is shifting on its axis. You can have the coal industry or you can have Australia. Only one of these will survive.”

  Peter was at the back. Smiling. He appreciated Alice, but he also appreciated the argument. Alice drifted back towards us after finishing the talk.

  “Like it?” Alice asked

  “Direct, to the point. Powerful.” I said

  “This is my friend Peter. We went to Uni together.”

  I looked at Peter. Maybe I was becoming a parent, as I found myself weighing him up as a prospective son-in-law. Stupid really.

  “Meet my father.”

  I could see Peter’s eyes widen. Father, there was never a father.

  “Pleased to meet you. I wasn’t aware that you existed.”

  Direct, to the point, just like Alice.

  “It came as a shock to me also.”

  “What do you do, Peter?” I asked. Idle conversation to fill the gap.

  “Army. Special Forces.”

  That stopped me in my tracks. I was really flustered now. All my preconceptions about the military. I hoped they weren’t showing.

  “Training tough?” I asked.

  “Very.”

  Alice was hovering. Wanting to take Peter away.

  “I better let you two go.”

  Chapter 24

  Helena stared at the screen. None of the numbers were good. None of
the reports were good. She got up and wandered to the outer office. Elaine was never downbeat, but even today she was struggling.

  "Not so good darling. We are toast, yes?"

  "Maybe. Maybe."

  She sought out Colin in the analysis area. He was sitting at a large workstation, looking pensive.

  “W4?” she asked

  “What about them?”

  “What makes them tick?”

  “Simple really. The name says it all. Stands for ‘fourth world’. The third world is impacted by climate change. Monsoon doesn’t come, millions starve.”

  “They strike me as just random. Just totally anarchic.”

  “Not at all. The logic is irrefutable. If you look at the emissions profile, almost all of it comes from the West. If you eliminate the West, the problem goes away.”

  “Self-hatred?”

  “No. It’s funded by the young. Donations. Think of it this way. If you look at the correlation between baby boomers and emissions. Like so.”

  A projected hologram filled the exhibition space. It showed the time from 1945 to the present day. Showed the rise of the baby boomers. The rise of the emissions profile.

  “So it’s the children of the baby boomers?”

  “Correct.”

  “Killing off their parents.”

  “Now you are with the program.”

  “They are not a priority?”

  “No. Their funding is trivial compared with the rise of the new economy.”

  Chapter 25

  There was something about Max that made you pay attention. Perhaps it was the economy of speech. The seriousness. Max being Max. The fact that no doubt there was a picture of him on the wall at security with ‘most wanted’ on it.

  “In the past we have operated a little bit under the radar. Of course they were gathering information, monitoring us. With the CoalGen operation we are in the open. We will be their top target.”

  He paused to take in the room. There were about twenty of us. I wondered how much longer we would be having physical meetings. It would be all done through the glasses. Virtual meetings.

  “If they haven’t already, they will become aware of the depth of our ambitions. That ultimately we are focussed on each other. We are initiating top level attacks on security. I want to progressively break down their systems.”

  "It's the physical aspects that are difficult." Phil interjected.