Lifespan of Starlight

by Kalkipsakis, Thalia

  ‘Hands behind your heads!’ shouts the officer with the compad.

  He points to Mason. ‘You! On the ground! Face down!’

  Mason steps back, too stunned to respond, his face tight with fear. I’ve never seen anyone so scared.

  Still the Feds move towards us. ‘Mason,’ I whisper. Because, what are we going to do?

  He blinks, before turning to me. ‘Midnight,’ he breathes. Then,‘Midnight?’

  A glance at the officers is the only response I can manage, too scared to speak. I turn to make sure the others heard as Mason drops to his knees, and then lies on his stomach. One of the officers rushes forwards and cuffs his wrists behind him; he’s so helpless now that all he can do is turn his head to me. He raises his eyebrows.

  So I nod, slowly at first then faster and faster. Yes, I understand.

  His head turns away.

  Then he’s gone. Just his clothes remain as if laid out ready for a new day, the cuffs resting neatly on the shorts.

  All is still around us.

  Two of the officers step back and turn to each other. The one with the compad pulls up his visor, his eyes tracing over the space where Mason used to be.

  We could run, I think in a flash. But I’m not thinking straight; I’m thinking like someone who can’t skip.

  ‘Don’t MOVE! Stay where you ARE!’ the officer barks at us, his words even sharper, even more urgent than before.

  Somehow it brings the other officers back, their pistols aim fresh, the attention on us all but centred on Boc. The stakes are higher now, and my heart races faster.

  Once glance sideways, and I know. Boc’s gone in a blink, his clothes falling where he stood.

  Shock doesn’t win us any time the way it did with Mason. The circle shrinks around us, the steps ever closer.

  ‘Stay where you are! I said, no moving! Stay WHERE YOU ARE!’ The main officer’s fear makes him somehow more terrifying.

  Echo makes a squeak, her eyes wide, and drops away.

  Still they come at me, still yelling. My hands are shaking. I push out a breath and find the place where all is calm.

  Just let go.

  * * *

  It’s dark, but there’s a half moon, so it’s not completely black. The air is still and cool around me. Sharp twigs and dirt at my feet. No clothes, but even worse, my compad is gone. The rush is quickly chased by a hard return to reality.

  Mason’s here already, his skin pale in the moonlight as he brushes loose soil from his knees and palms. Boc and Echo return within seconds of each other, their chests lifting and falling in time.

  Echo’s gaze lifts towards the rail tracks and we all turn in silence. Police tape encloses the area but nothing remains. The air feels heavy with absence.

  ‘You okay?’ I ask Mason.

  ‘Yeah.’ He closes his eyes, still adjusting. Remembering, maybe.

  ‘Let’s go,’ mutters Boc. ‘We don’t have much time.’

  In silence we make our way up the slope, numbly following behind. For some reason our overnight bags are still where we stashed them, under the picnic table, so we share out a mishmash of clothes, tops for the girls, bottoms for the boys, and begin our way across the park.

  Only four of us are returning the way we came; there should be five.

  ‘Want me to take you home?’ I ask Echo gently.

  ‘No. Not yet.’ Her voice is tight, her movements contained.

  It gives me the sense that she wants to be alone, so I pull back and fall in beside Mason. He jerks his chin my way, a sad sort of welcome. So I stick by his side, matching my strides with his. Without really thinking what I’m doing I rest a hand on his shoulder, offering comfort, or perhaps asking for some.

  He glances my way briefly as his other hand lifts to rest on mine, trapping my fingers the way he did when we first time skipped together.

  We stay that way only a few strides before Mason lifts my hand from his shoulder, guiding it down so that his other hand can close around it. His grip is firm, warm. Maybe, in some other world, I might have wondered what it could mean, begun hoping about a future together. But life now exists for us only in terms of minutes ahead. How long until we hear that pulsing throb return. How long until we’re discovered again.

  After a while our grip shifts at the same time, loosening only enough for our fingers to interlace, hands locked even firmer.

  No idea what the future holds, but for now we’re never letting go.

  * * *

  Boc finds a way in to the rock-climbing centre from a side entrance. Pretty sure he’s done this before. The comscreen at reception flickers to life and Mason settles in, a sense of urgency growing now that we have access to the grid.

  Echo finds a space on the floor and slumps with her back against a wall, not focusing on much. It makes me wonder which nightmare keeps playing in her mind, the one she just lived through or the one she’ll have to face when she sees her parents. I’m beginning to realise why she’s in no hurry to go home.

  I find a spare chair in a back room and wheel it out to Mason. Boc stands to see over his other shoulder.

  Already Mason has the grid on the screen. We all lean forwards at the same time. Little orange circles rim each of our dots. Wanted for questioning comes up when Mason hovers the cursor over my dot. Same for Echo and Boc.

  When it hovers over Mason’s dot though, all air leaves my chest. Arrest warrant.

  I’m out of the chair and across the room, biting my lip as I check out the entrance doors. No approaching lights that I can find. No rumble of engines coming this way. But how long do we have?

  And then what?

  It’s only now that it’s happening for real that I realise that time skipping will only get us so far. Each time we return we’ll be tagged and pursued again. But for how long? They’ll eventually work out that we have to return to the same spot. We can’t keep jumping forever.

  ‘Finished?’ I ask, coming back to the reception desk. ‘We have to go.’

  ‘Hold on.’ By now Mason has a new screen on view, trying to hack in to the server at the Federal Police.

  Soon he leans back. ‘Dammit. Can’t get in.’

  ‘Here.’ I pull the keyboard close and get busy.

  ‘Scout, I need the comscreen.’ Mason’s hand is firm on my arm, just this side of annoyance.

  ‘One minute.’ Back to the grid, I set up a fresh alert to tell us if anyone’s approaching from about three kms out. We’re in an industrial estate so no-one else should be here at this time of night.

  When I’ve finished, I push the keyboard back towards Mason. ‘There. It’s all yours. But if you hear an alarm it means the police are coming.’

  His mouth is pushed to one side, not annoyed anymore. ‘Actually … that gives me an idea.’

  I stay quiet as I watch, no distractions slowing him down. Instead of trying to find a way into the main server, Mason goes back to the grid, his thin hands moving quickly as he traces a path in reverse, finding the server that added the arrest warrant, then patching his way back in via the instruction path. Clever. It’s like sneaking into a building through an exit door by having someone open it from the inside.

  Soon we’re trawling through the files on the server at the Federal Police, reading through notes that mention our names. There’s not much on Boc, Echo and me, most of it seems to reference back to Mason, but the files on him are a whole new story. I don’t understand half of the phrases used – felony, reckless endangerment – but I understand others, like suspect and wilful damage. Manslaughter.

  After a while Mason’s hands drop to his lap, his head lowered. Boc has his arms crossed, jaw muscles clenched as he stares at the screen. Soon his chest expands and slowly
contracts.

  ‘So … what?’ I ask. ‘They’re trying to blame Mason for …?’ I glance at Echo. I don’t have to say it.

  ‘Sort of. Not –’ Boc glances at Echo too,‘not premeditated or anything. But –’

  ‘But they know I’m the one who blocked the safety sensors.’ Mason lifts his head. ‘So they’re going to hang a case off that.’

  ‘But …’ Head shaking. ‘It wasn’t your idea. It was –’ My sightline lifts to Boc and I break off as I realise this is the first time I’ve looked him in the eye since the accident. The guy who knows no fear. He’s the reason why Mason cut the safety sensors; he’s the reason why Amon was taking such a risk. If the police are looking for someone to blame, it should be Boc.

  Boc sees me watching and crosses his arms, pushing his chin forwards. Got something to say?

  Can’t sit anymore. I’m up and at the entrance doors, looking into the night. The alarm is set to warn us if anyone’s coming, but I have to see for myself. Black night is close around us. I lean my shoulder against the glass.

  Mason and Boc keep talking in low voices. ‘This is bad. I think they have a case.’

  ‘We won’t let them get you, Mase.’

  My eyes drop and I trace a finger over the raised lump of the chip scar. It’s been faded by the procedure, but it’s still new in so many ways.

  ‘We’ve been talking about it already, haven’t we?’ whispers Boc. ‘Now we have a reason.’

  No reply at first, then Mason asks, ‘You think we would make it?’

  ‘Only one way to find out.’

  My hands drop as I stand away from the door. I knew it would be useful to go off-grid. Just didn’t realise how much.

  ‘You have to cut it out,’ I call across the room. ‘Your chip, I mean. Or write some sort of masking code.’

  Mason looks up from the comscreen. ‘What?’

  ‘Your chip. It’s the reason they can track you, right? So we cut it out, leave it here. Or find a way to block it from the grid. When they come, you’ll be long gone.’ As I talk, I make my way to the reception desk and stop in front of it. ‘You’ll be free.’

  ‘Free?’ His forehead creases. ‘With no water? No access to food?’

  ‘I know a water source. We’ll work food out. The important thing is you’ll be safe once you’re off-grid.’

  ‘Off-grid,’ Mason mumbles, the creases deepening around his eyes. Except he’s not talking to me, he just said that to thin air.

  I shuffle sideways, trying to catch his sightline. ‘I’ve been working on a masking code, but it re-triggers whenever you move. Maybe if we had more time, but we don’t. I think cutting the chip out is the only way.’

  ‘I’m not …’ Mason snaps out of his thoughts and sighs. ‘Scout, I’m not cutting out my chip. I …’ He turns to Boc. ‘We have a plan.’

  Echo’s still leaning against the wall but I can tell that she’s listening. I turn back to find Mason waiting for me.

  Slowly, he inhales. ‘We’re going to time skip further than ever before,’ Mason says, emphasising each word. ‘So far that none of this will be on file anymore. The case will be long closed.’

  ‘How far?’ Echo asks from behind me on the floor.

  ‘Ten years.’ From Boc. ‘More if we need.’

  But I’m not looking at the others, all that I see right now is Mason. ‘You’ve talked about this?’

  ‘Sort of. Yes. But it’s different now.’ He makes his way around the reception desk to me. ‘It’s sooner than we thought, but … don’t you see? This is where we’ve been heading all along.’

  My eyes lower, scanning the worn tiles. He’d be safe, I guess. Boc would go with him. But what sort of world would they find? Water supplies could have diminished even more than they are now. Rations might be even tighter.

  Then again, maybe not. They’d have their parents waiting for them. And me, I guess. For all I know, life might be better in ten years …

  I risk a peek sideways. ‘You think you could make it that far?’ I ask.

  A cautious smile. ‘We know it’s possible, yeah? We’ve seen that woman make seventeen years. Who knows? Maybe we could go ten times as far.’

  His gaze is so even, his face so open that I know without having to ask. He wants to do this. He’s not just jumping as an escape, but also to see what he’ll find.

  It’s too much, too fast. Even though it would keep him safe from the police, I can’t help a lump rising in my throat. ‘But as far as we know there’s no coming back –’

  ‘I know.’ He says it softly.

  He’d still be sixteen, and I’d be twenty-four.

  ‘Come with us.’ Mason’s close by now, his hand at the tip of my elbow. When I lift my head, his mouth opens again but before the words have formed an alarm rings out from the comscreen. We all go still.

  In the next instant, we’re moving at once. Mason and I bolt around the reception desk while Echo jumps up from the floor.

  Hands shaking, I bring up the grid map of the industrial estate and zoom out. Twenty or so dots from all around us are headed this way.

  ‘THIS WAY,’ CALLS BOC. Echo is beside him already heading for one of the side doors. I’m halfway across the room when I realise Mason’s not with me. I spin back to find him typing and mouthing to himself as he peers at the comscreen.

  Through the entrance doors I catch a flash of distant headlights. The windows are rattling with vibrations from the approaching drones.

  ‘Mason,’ I hiss.

  ‘Hold on.’

  The others have stopped too. Boc strides towards the reception desk. ‘Mase, we gotta go.’

  ‘Nearly … finished …’ Mason mumbles, furiously typing between each word.

  ‘Mason.’ I’m close by now, a hand on my forehead as I examine the screen. ‘Hang on.’ I realise that the lines on the screen are familiar. It’s the masking code that I was playing with as a way of dropping off-grid. ‘Where did you get that from?’

  Mason’s eyes don’t leave the screen. ‘You said you’d been working on it at home.’

  He’s hacked into my home comscreen and copied the script. Except he’s made some changes too. Just a simple few lines of code that are so elegant I can’t help being impressed. Soon Mason copies the same code from his dot on the grid to mine, and then Boc’s.

  By now the others are watching over Mason’s shoulder. Finally the code is added to Echo’s dot. Mason clicks to bring up the grid map in real time. ‘Look.’

  Gridlines spread across the screen showing reception at the rock-climbing centre, exactly where we are now. Except …

  From either side I feel Echo and Boc lean closer. None of our dots are visible. Not one for any of us.

  Already Mason is grinning. ‘You’re a genius, Scout. That code you wrote to hide from being seen on the grid? I made some changes so that we stay masked as we move around.’

  I step backwards then forwards, testing, then check the screen. Nothing.

  ‘So it looks like we’re not here?’ asks Echo.

  ‘Better.’ Mason tilts his head. ‘It will look like we jumped, right? So they’ll be watching for our return while we’re still getting away.’ He turns to Boc. ‘We’ll be able to organise supplies. See our folks.’

  Boc nods and rolls his shoulders as if preparing for work. ‘Sort our stuff out. This is great.’

  I can’t believe he fixed the problem so easily. ‘So, you’ll be safe? You won’t have to jump?’

  Mason’s mouth goes straight. ‘No, the dots will only stay masked until we swipe for something. The minute you access water, food … swipe for anything and you’ll be back on the grid. That’s the best I can do.’

  It was perhaps too much to ask. Here we are once more,
the story of my life. There’s freedom in being off-grid, but no life without rations.

  Boc reaches over to take screen control, zooming out to see the area around this building. ‘So why are they still coming?’

  Only a kilometre away, twenty or so dots are making their way towards us. Still coming. The floor vibrates with their engines.

  ‘Dammit,’ snaps Mason. ‘Why aren’t they watching the grid? They should have seen us drop off.’

  ‘Maybe they are watching the grid,’ Echo says slowly. ‘And they think that we’ve jumped. But they’re still coming so they can secure the building for when we return.’

  It takes only a second’s thought before we react. She’s right.

  I waste precious seconds wiping Mason’s coding history, before shutting down the comscreen. Then we’re out the side door and into the climbing room, close behind Boc. Can’t still be in the building when they lock it down. Even if we’re hidden, we can’t risk being trapped.

  By now the engines are so close I can feel them in my stomach, a low, rumbling growl. We’re heading for a side entrance when light flashes in through the glass panel, our legs caught in the beam before we duck to one side.

  We’re in a row, backs against the wall. From the front, Boc wiggles a pointer finger from side to side, meaning ‘no’. Then he points back the way he came, taking the lead as we make our way to the rear.

  When we make it to the back, light is rimming that door too. We’re trapped.

  Boc lifts his finger to his lips, then points back the way we came before stretching his arm above his head. His idea is to climb one of the walls, I guess, and make our way to the roof.

  My heart is pounding so much that I think I might throw up, but I’m not sure if it’s because of the police closing in on the building, or the idea of climbing one of those stupid walls.