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  “I guess so.”

  “It wasn’t just the grunge. I mean, we had to wear our suits all the time when we were outside, but most of the problems, you know, they were really…” She broke off and gave Calum an apologetic grin. “I’m sorry, I’m lecturing you again, and this is supposed to be a party.” She smiled. “How’s the crow?”

  “Yeah, it’s good.” Calum licked the grease from his lips. “Real good.”

  “That’s all right then.” Helen raised her chin and watched the crowd by the bonfire. “Things aren’t so bad. We have this place fixed up. We have the wall, and we have shelter and enough food. We can make a go of it here—I’m sure of it. It’s hard work, but it’s worth it to keep us all together. To keep us all safe.”

  Calum nodded at his mom’s familiar words, then gave the crow bone a final inspection, scraping off a scrap of sinew and chewing it. “The crow—was it the brown one?”

  “Hmm? Oh, yes. The brown bird. She was getting old.”

  “I thought so. She’d stopped laying.”

  “You don’t mind do you?”

  “Nah.” He dropped the bone back into the lunchbox and smiled at his mom. “Real tasty. We should’ve cooked her ages ago.”

  “You little monster! You used to be quite attached to those crows.”

  They laughed. And that was when Calum realized that the singing had stopped and the cheerful chatter had died away; the festive atmosphere had vanished. He shared a look with his mom. All around them, people were standing up, their faces pale. Somebody shouted and a ripple of anxious groans ran through the crowd.

  Calum dropped his chunk of snake meat into the lunchbox and jumped to his feet, scanning the crowd for trouble. What the hell was wrong? Parents grabbed their children and held them close. Some of the little ones whimpered, upset to be held so tightly. Helen stood at Calum’s side, her posture stiff and her expression grim. A woman called out to her from the crowd, “Helen, what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry, I…” She stopped speaking. The crowd stirred, grew quiet, then parted. Her husband, Connor, strode through the throng, his eyes fixed on Helen.

  He stopped in front of her, his face lined with worry, his dark eyes burning with anxiety. “Where’s Siobhan?”

  “I don’t know,” Helen said. “Why? What’s happened?”

  “Dad, what’s wrong?” Calum asked. “Shiv’s all right, isn’t she?”

  Connor turned on him. “Do you know where she is?” he demanded. “Have you seen your sister? Or her friends?”

  “I…” Calum looked down at his hands and twisted his fingers together.

  “Come on, Calum,” Connor snapped. “Speak up!”

  “Stop it,” Helen cried. “Connor, for God’s sake, tell me what’s happened.”

  Connor shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Siobhan and some of her friends—we can’t find them. We think there are five of them missing. As well as Siobhan, there’s Emma, Alice, Nick, and that boy she’s always hanging around with, Milo. We can’t find them anywhere.” Behind him, the men and women muttered and cursed quietly.

  “But that…that doesn’t mean anything,” Helen said. “They’re old enough. They like to go off on their own and get a bit of space. You know that.”

  But Connor shook his head. “No. This is different.” He raised his voice and turned to include the crowd. “Listen to me. This is not about teenagers sneaking off on their own. This is much more serious. And the worst thing is, I’ve been warning you all for years. I knew this day would come.”

  The murmuring from the crowd grew louder, more strident.

  “Just tell us what’s happened,” one woman shouted.

  “It doesn’t matter,” a man bawled, his voice booming. “Let’s go! We’ll form a search party, bring them back.”

  “No!” Connor shouted, and the crowd fell silent. “I’m still the ranking officer in this settlement, and you’ll listen to me.” He glared around the crowd as if daring them to speak, but no one said a word.

  “All right,” Connor went on. “I’ve already sent out search parties—good men and women, all hand-picked from the patrol team. The search is underway, and we hope to find our young people very soon. But there’s something else I have to tell you, something very important.” He paused, holding up his hands, imploring them to listen. “I’ve warned you about this often enough, but now it’s happening, and I can hardly find the right words.”

  Helen stepped to Connor’s side and held onto his arm. She looked up into his eyes as if giving him strength.

  Connor nodded at her then lifted his chin to address the crowd. “Earlier today, just after sunset, one of the patrol team spotted some lights in the distance—lights moving across the lowlands. I climbed up to the lookout, and it’s true. There’s something out there. I’ve seen the lights myself.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” someone cried out. ”Why didn’t you warn us first?”

  And then everyone was shouting at once, a barrage of angry questions.

  “Enough!” Connor shouted, his voice cutting through the dissent. “I had to verify the sighting myself, and as soon as I’d done that, I headed back here and informed the council. That was when I discovered that some of our young people were missing. I sent out the search parties—that was my duty—and now, here I am.” He took a deep breath. “My daughter is out there somewhere, and I could have gone looking for her, but I put my duty to you first. I put my duty to the settlement ahead of my own family.”

  A murmur of appreciation ran through the crowd. Connor waited a moment, but no one called out. “The lights have stopped some distance away, but when I looked through my binoscanner, I was able to see them clearly enough. They’re headlights. And that means vehicles, it means intelligent life.”

  A roar erupted from the crowd, and this time they ignored Connor when he held up his hands for quiet.

  “Thank God!” A middle-aged man pushed his way to the front of the crowd, his podgy face inflamed by excitement. “Don’t you see, Connor? They must be from the ship. The other lander—they must’ve made it after all!”

  Calum knew the man’s name, and so did everyone else. Derek Kline was a member of the council, but Calum had never liked him; the man’s smile was always wide, but it never quite reached his eyes. Why the hell did he have to say that? Calum fumed. No one will listen to my dad now.

  And he was right. Some people cheered, others slapped each other on the back, and when Calum’s dad started speaking again, his voice was drowned out by the noise.

  While Calum watched in stony silence, Connor closed his eyes and shook his head. And when his father opened his eyes and looked at the crowd, Calum’s blood froze in his veins. I’ve never seen him so angry. His father’s dark eyes burned with rage, and his face was white with fury. But there was something else, something in the set of his jaw, and the way he held his hands together, clasped over his stomach. He’s frightened, Calum realized, and the thought shook him to the core.

  “Wait!” Helen called out. “Everyone, please—let’s hear what my husband has to say.” And the edge of self-possessed urgency in her voice must’ve chimed with the crowd because everyone grew quiet.

  “I know what you’re hoping for,” Connor said, and he gave them all a strained smile. “It would be wonderful, wouldn’t it, if these people turned out to be our lost shipmates from The Pharaon? Perhaps they’d bring us fresh supplies—food, water, fresh coffee.” He paused while people turned to their neighbors with wry grins and raised eyebrows. “But The Pharaon is gone. Destroyed. And it’s been almost five years—five Earth years—since our ship was lost, and in all that time we’ve heard nothing from the other lander. Nothing. We know that it entered the atmosphere, but we also know that something went wrong. We’ve all heard the recordings. It was out of control—completely. We have to assume it crashed with no survivors.” Connor scraped a hand down his face. “I hate to be the one who keeps saying th
is, I really do. I want to keep some hope alive, just like you. But we have to be realistic. Whoever is out there, they’re not from The Pharaon. For now, the vehicles have stopped moving and that’s good. It gives us time.” He cast a glance across his audience. “The point is this—there’s someone out there who may or may not be human, who may or may not be friendly. So we have to be prepared. We have to be ready to respond, to protect our families and our homes.” He hesitated. “I’ve left a team of three in the lookout to keep watch on the lights—if anything changes, they’ll let me know. In the meantime, I’m going back to my house to make my preparations, and I want you all to do the same.”

  “Rubbish!” Derek Kline spluttered. “We go down there! We suit up and get lanterns and we go down to meet these people.”

  “No, Derek.” A tall woman marched steadily through the crowd, her head held high. No one stood in her way. “That has not been the council’s decision,” she said, and her soft voice held the crowd in its grip. Evelyn Naidu had been the council’s leader for as long as Calum could remember. Every year she resigned, and every year she was re-elected; now, Calum understood why.

  “You would’ve known the outcome of our meeting,” Evelyn said, “if we’d been able to find you in time.” She looked down at Derek, her nostrils flared. “Perhaps we were looking in the wrong places.”

  Derek dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “I can join the goddamned party, can’t I? Just a social drink. What’s wrong with that?”

  Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “Nothing. But it seems as though some people are more social than others.”

  A few people laughed and Derek scowled like a man defeated. “Fine. Do whatever you damned well want.”

  Evelyn faced the crowd. “Those of you who attend our meetings know that we have discussed this eventuality in detail. Connor knows the plan and we have total faith in him.” She gestured to Connor. “Please, go on.”

  “Okay,” Connor said. “My first priority is to find those five young people, and I’ll be coordinating the search parties from my house. We’ll find them, and we’ll bring them home. As for the lights, the council has decided that the vehicles are unlikely to move until dawn, and I agree. I’ll lead a team down to the wall and we’ll be there when the sun comes up. If the vehicles come anywhere near our hill, we’ll be ready for them. If you’re on the patrol team, I want to see you over at my house as soon as possible, and we’ll take it from there. Everyone else, all you have to do is stay calm and get ready. I’ll keep you informed, but if you see anything unusual report it to me immediately or tell someone on the patrol team. Okay, that’s it. Go home.”

  The crowd began to disperse, shuffling around their neighbors then heading away as quickly as they could. Connor turned to Helen and Calum. “You go home too. I’ll be right there.”

  “Come on, Cal,” Helen said. “Your dad’s right. Come with me and you can help me pack up the picnic. You didn’t finish your food.”

  She took hold of Calum’s arm, but he held back. “Dad, I wanted to tell you before, but you didn’t give me a chance. I did see Siobhan and her friends—not long ago. They can’t have gone far, Dad.” He pointed toward the place. “They were fine. They were right there—by the tall rock.”

  Connor nodded. “I know where you mean. I’m sorry, Cal, I should’ve listened. There’s so much happening. But don’t worry about your sister. We’ll find her. We’ll find them all. Just look after your mom until we get this sorted out, all right?”

  “Sure, Dad.”

  Calum’s mom put her arm around his shoulders, and he didn’t resist. She cast a searching look at her husband, but he shook his head. “Later,” he said. “We’ll talk later.”

  “All right,” Helen said, and this time Calum let her lead him away. “You know, Cal, you mustn’t blame yourself about Siobhan. This isn’t your fault.”

  “I know, Mom.” But while they walked, he kept his gaze on the hard-packed ground. If he’d said something earlier, or if he’d encouraged Siobhan to come back to the party, everything would’ve been different; not perfect perhaps, but at least his sister wouldn’t be in danger. If anything happens to her, I’ll make it right, he promised himself. Somehow, I’ll… but his mind clouded and he couldn’t finish the thought.

  “She’ll be okay,” his mom said. “Siobhan can look after herself.”

  And Calum leaned against his mom. He was almost as tall as her, but still, he needed to soak up her strength, her certainty. And she was right, Siobhan could handle herself better than anyone on the hill. All they had to do was wait.

  CHAPTER 2

  The Hill

  STANDING ALONE IN THE SQUARE, Connor bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Someone had doused the bonfire with water, and the acrid fumes hung in the damp air while the last of the revelers headed for home. That’s right, Connor thought. Go back to your firesides and lock the doors. Fasten the shutters and fetch out your threadbare flight suits. Much good may it do you.

  Maybe he should’ve done more to shock everyone out of their false sense of security, but the council had been keen to prevent any panic, and Connor had agreed not to share everything he’d seen.

  Yes, the lights had been moving. His lookouts had seen them clearly enough. But by the time they’d fetched Connor to see for himself, the situation had changed, and the vehicles had ground to a halt. Of course, these interlopers must have stopped because they’d seen the bonfire at the party; there was no doubt about it. He’d warned everyone about the fires, over and over again. But he couldn’t watch over the whole settlement every minute of every day. And there were members of the council who’d insisted people needed to get together, to celebrate and blow off steam.

  Connor looked up into the clear night sky. No use in blaming others, he thought. I should’ve been stronger.

  He took a breath and looked across the square. It was completely empty now, the party forgotten. People have short memories, Connor told himself. A little while ago they’d been celebrating, then for a few fleeting moments, they’d been worried. But soon they’d be climbing into their beds, content that someone else was dealing with the settlement’s problems. Perhaps that was just the way things were; a few led while the many followed. Perhaps that was how things had always been.

  He tilted his head from side to side and felt his vertebrae click into place. Even now, after all this time on the planet, his muscles hadn’t quite recovered from the long years in space; medical science could only do so much. I’m not the man I was, he thought, but maybe that’s just as well. In his youth he would’ve raced down the hill, eager for adventure, but now he knew the value of caution. Now, he had so much more to lose.

  He exhaled noisily. It would be easy to go home, to climb into bed beside his wife and huddle beneath the blankets, but that was not his path. He had a job to do, and while others slept, his vigil was only just beginning. And it would be some time before he could close his eyes and rest. Because there was something else that he’d shared only with the council; he hadn’t even told his patrol leaders.

  The patrol team had only one working binoscanner, and when Connor had used its image intensifier to watch the vehicles, he’d seen something that had made his blood run cold.

  Out there, across the dark lowlands, deep in the grunge-infested open country, the group of headlights hadn’t just come to a halt. He’d counted six sets of lights, and they’d formed into a tight circle, each vehicle parked with its headlights drawn close to the one in front. It was a defensive formation. Whoever these people were, they clearly meant business. And perhaps, they intended to stay.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Hill

  CONNOR STOOD OUTSIDE HIS HOUSE and stared into the darkness. His meeting with the patrol team members hadn’t taken long; most of them were already out on the hillside, searching for his daughter and her friends. With those who’d attended he’d run through the usual reminders and made sure everyone knew what to do. He’d wanted to pick his team
for the morning expedition to the wall, but with all his best people absent he’d put that task off until later; he could choose his people when all of the search parties had returned.

  After the meeting he’d paced the floor for a few minutes, but he’d not been able to stay indoors, and now here he was, standing in the dark when he should be out there, on the hillside, searching for Siobhan. Someone has to stay here, he thought. And I’m getting too old to scrabble over rocks in the dark. The search parties he’d sent were made up of young men and women; they were fitter, stronger, and they knew the hill better than he did. He’d had no choice but to stay at home and leave the search up to them, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  Connor massaged his forehead with his fingertips, then he made one last scan of the horizon before heading inside. He closed the door behind him carefully, trying not to make too much noise. Made from a section of the old cargo bay, Connor’s house was bigger than most, and it was one of the few to have an upper floor, but the metal walls tended to reverberate at the slightest noise.

  He leaned his back against the door to dampen the vibrations and looked around the single downstairs room. The simple homeliness of the place sent a pang of loneliness to tug at his heart. Maybe he should’ve let Helen and Calum stay up with him, but he’d insisted they both go and rest. Calum had done as he was told for once, and Helen had eventually agreed, although there was no way either of them would sleep; they wouldn’t rest easy until Siobhan was found and their family made whole again.

  It was selfish of me to send them to bed, Connor told himself. But if I have to stay put and wait, better to do it alone. He could only hope that Helen understood his motives: he couldn’t stand to see her suffer.

  Connor crossed the room and sat down on the chair by the fireplace, stretching his hands to the dwindling embers. The meager glow gave little warmth, but firewood was hard to come by, and it wasn’t worth a trip to the woodpile when he was the only one still up. He reached for the blackened metal rod that served as a poker and stabbed at the embers, hoping for a small flame, but he only succeeded in shattering the glowing sticks of brush wood into a useless mound of smoking fragments. Soon the embers would turn to cold, gray ashes, their energy spent, and the chill night air would creep into the house and nip at his fingertips. He should’ve left the fire alone.