Lifespan of Starlight

by Kalkipsakis, Thalia

Boc leads us to the room where we’ve been training all summer, and points up to a manhole in the ceiling next to the top of the climbing wall. It’s dark in here, no lights on of course, just one long, high window allowing moonlight in.

  Already Echo is halfway up the wall, her limbs somehow longer than I thought they were with each stretch for a new hold. Without a word Mason begins after her, not quite as smoothly but with the confidence of someone who’s done this before.

  I turn to Boc, and point. You go. Maybe I can follow behind and copy what he does.

  He barely reacts, before he begins up the wall.

  One foot on the place where Boc’s just was, reaching out a hand to match his. But already I’m not sure where to reach, my grip weakening from angst about what I have to achieve. I’m barely off the floor.

  It’s only when I find Boc next to me that I realise he’s climbed back down. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he hisses. ‘You’re putting us all in danger.’

  ‘I don’t know how to climb,’ I whisper.

  ‘Then do exactly what I say,’ he snaps.

  ‘But …’ Should I admit this? ‘I’m a bit … not so good with heights.’

  Boc’s eyes narrow as he leans towards me in the dim light. ‘Do what I say, when I say it, and we’ll both get out of here.’

  Okay. There’s not much else I can do. One foot up, I reach a hand out to grasp one of the blobs sticking out from the wall. Step up to the next lump in the wall. It helps that I’m in bare feet, better able to feel my grip.

  From one side, Boc whispers instructions each time I pause. ‘Move your left hand up to that hold. Step sideways. Try swapping your hold the other way.’

  Before I know it, I’m halfway up the wall. Don’t look down. Just hold onto his voice.

  When we’re nearing the top, the smash of breaking glass echoes from reception. They’re here, and they’re coming in.

  Before I can stop myself I glance down to the side door, making sure they’re not opening it, too. Even though it’s dark, the hugeness of the space below rushes up to me. The world lurches sideways and gravity sucks me away from the wall.

  A whimper escapes my throat. Eyes closed, cheek pressed against the brick.

  ‘Scout.’ Through the panic I hear Boc: ‘You’re nearly there.’

  ‘I …’ Can’t think. Can’t breathe. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You can. And you will.’

  Still, I don’t move. Have to keep going, but no idea how to get my limbs moving again.

  ‘Scout, the Feds are in the other room, okay? They’re too busy securing reception to realise we’re here.’

  I don’t understand how those words are the right ones, but somehow I find the courage to let go and reach immediately for the hold above.

  One foot up, and then the other. I’m nearly at the rim when I pull up to find a hand reaching for me. Mason.

  My fingers slip into his and I push off to feel the welcome lift as I make it over the edge. Panting, but here, with a solid platform beneath me. Made it, at last.

  Boc pulls himself over the rim and slips open the manhole in the ceiling above us, motioning for us to follow. In silence we shuffle through the ceiling cavity. Boc replaces the manhole cover and dusty steps take us up through another door to the roof.

  Clear sky is above us; headlights and voices beneath. Boc points, and we follow in silence. Warehouse roofs stretch so far ahead of us that I can’t pick the end. They’ve been built in a row, with no gaps between, but it’s nearly half an hour before we make it to the warehouse at the opposite end.

  Boc takes us down through a door from the roof like the one on top of the climbing centre. We emerge into a storage facility stocked full with shelves of boxes up to the ceiling, which is about as high as the climbing wall was. The ladder down is short, only five or six rungs until we reach the next storey and have to track sideways for the next ladder along. It’s not so bad as long as I don’t think about what I’m doing.

  Soon we’re on the ground, eight or nine warehouses between us and the action at the other end. Out of sight, and off-grid.

  Together we make our way to the edge of the industrial estate, streetlights and the glow of the sky showing the way.

  At a fork in the track, we pause. One path will lead the others to the old highway and down to Moonee Ponds; the other way will take me to the Maribyrnong Canal, and home.

  It must be three or four in the morning, quiet and dark. From here, you can see the whole city silhouetted against the moonlit sky, somehow different now, although I know it’s not the city that has changed. It makes me wonder how much of the scene before us will still be here ten years from now. How much will be new? Just the idea of it makes my mind slow, my heart go steady and calm, the same as when you look into the sky and feel so small but part of something at the same time.

  ‘So. When? Where?’ asks Boc, rubbing his hands together.

  ‘Think we should get a decent night’s sleep,’ Mason says. ‘Who knows what kind of world we’ll land in.’

  ‘Midnight, two nights from now?’

  Finding a time for them to leave is easy, but sorting out a place proves more difficult. Buildings might be pulled down; parks might be built over. After seeing what we’ve seen, the location of their return becomes the most important detail. Even the barest patch of dirt in a corner of nowhere might end up with a shrub growing in it.

  They’ve been dancing over all the places that wouldn’t work, when I lift my head. ‘There’s a cave near the entrance to Footscray Park. I used to use it as a water source.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  All three of them wait. ‘It’s too dark for anything to grow, and they wouldn’t build because of the underground spring.’

  Boc steps forwards. ‘Whereabouts?’

  ‘It’s …’ Then I remember. ‘It’s where I found that woman.

  The one who …’ I trail off.

  Mason pushes his mouth to one side. ‘You mean there’s an underground spring where you found her?’

  ‘Yeah. I used to drink from there all the time.’

  Creases deepening around his eyes as he stares at me. ‘Do you think she knew?’ Mason asks, as if I’ve been withholding information.

  My hands lift helplessly in reply.

  ‘It just seems … convenient.’

  ‘Okay,’ Boc rubs his hands together. ‘So we use these two days to prepare. Sort out our stuff. But no swiping, all right?’

  ‘The minute you do, you’ll be back on grid.’ Mason turns back to the industrial estate. ‘And we don’t want any attention before we leave.’

  ‘But what if the police turn up?’ I ask. ‘They’ll be at Echo’s place for sure. Probably want to interview Mason’s parents.’

  ‘So, we just keep out of sight while they’re there,’ Mason says simply. ‘They think we’ve jumped, right? So they won’t expect to find us. It’s like you said, people just see what they expect to see.’

  Boc’s hand goes to rest on Echo’s shoulder. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She raises an eyebrow my way as farewell.

  They’re turning to go when I realise that I know what they’re headed into much more clearly than they do. They’re so used to everything being offered up to them, they have no idea of the world they’re about to face.

  Part of me just wants to watch them go, let them find out the hard way. See how you cope now, Boc.

  But he’s with Echo.

  Arm outstretched. ‘Wait. Before you go, there’s stuff you need to know.’ They pause and turn back. ‘You can’t swipe to cross the street like you normally do. Find someone else and follow them, okay?’

  They’re all quiet now, listening.

  ‘Anything else?’ Echo asks
.

  ‘Doors. Some of them are just movement sensors but others are triggered by chips.’ My mouth scrunches in apology. ‘Don’t think you can tell just by looking at them.’

  ‘Great,’ says Boc, deadpan. ‘No eating. No drinking. No going anywhere. That everything?’

  I only manage a hand at the back of my neck. ‘Just … don’t let anything open for you, and don’t expect anything to work. You’re as good as illegal for the next two days.’

  Boc reacts with a snort when I say that, but I stand my ground.

  Now you’ll see what it’s like.

  He doesn’t say anything, just turns away with Echo. They begin down a track towards the old highway.

  I’m lifting my hand to say goodbye, when Mason steps closer. ‘Come with us.’

  My mouth opens then closes again as all my thoughts spin upside down. ‘I …’ Don’t know what to say.

  I’m not even sure I could jump that far. But just for a moment, I let myself imagine. Taste the possibility of a future, ten years from now. The pull of the unknown. Even if we found a life that we didn’t expect, at least we’d be together.

  ‘Someone once said to me that for all we know there might be any number of possibilities out there.’ His voice is low, standing about as close as he could get without actually touching me. ‘Unless we can first imagine what might be possible, how will we even know to try? Remember?’

  Of course I remember the words I said on the roof that night, so long ago. Dreaming about going backwards. Time-travelling starlight. The whole world out there, waiting for us. But even as I lean closer and my forearm brushes against the back of his hand, it’s as if something is crushing my chest. I’m only able to breathe into the top of my lungs. And I know exactly why.

  In another world, some other time, I’d throw my arms around his neck and hold him tight telling him, yes. Yes, yes, yes.

  ‘Mason, I … would … love to.’

  He can hear it in my voice. ‘But?’

  ‘I can’t leave Mum.’ Head shaking. ‘I just … couldn’t. I can’t …’

  ‘Could you could teach her? Wait behind until she’s ready, then bunny hop together.’

  It makes me smile, his hope, determination. Imagine if we could …

  Dinging from a railway crossing starts up in the distance, bringing us back. Before we find out what the future holds, we have to deal with the next two days.

  He exhales in a rush, stepping back. ‘Think about it, yeah?’

  I let my chin drop. ‘See you in two days.’

  OUR ROOM IS glowing blue from the standby light when I tap on the window at home. Sure didn’t need a reminder about how difficult life is without a chip. It’s even worse without a compad to make it in via the front door.

  A few seconds pass before the top of Mum’s face appears over the back of the armchair, a palm rubbing her eye. She slides the window open, blinking through sleep as she guides me inside by one arm.

  By the time I’ve found my feet on the rug, she’s blinking through tears. Arms around me, holding me tight, my face pushed against her shoulder and damp now with tears of my own.

  ‘I’m so, so, so sorry.’ For causing her worry and for all that has happened. For Amon. And Echo too.

  ‘You’re not hurt?’ she asks, pulling back only long enough to check my expression.

  ‘No.’ But again the tears come, chased by a fresh wave of heartache.

  ‘I thought you’d jumped; I’ve been checking you on the grid,’ she says over my shoulder. ‘Saw a news report.’

  ‘What are they saying?’

  ‘He was your friend? Amon Lang. Something about a train.

  Suspicious circumstances.’ Again, she pulls back, this time catching my focus. ‘They named Mason, more than once. Put up a photo. Saying that he’s a … suspect?’

  Fresh tears chase the others. Swallow them down. ‘It was an accident. Not Mason’s fault, but they’re forming a case to convict him. We hacked in to see.’

  There’s still no space for air in my lungs. Something catches in my throat before I suck for breath again. ‘They’re planning a big jump. Mason and Boc. Ten years. So far that the case will have closed and he won’t be arrested.’

  One eyebrow flickers. ‘They can go that far?’

  ‘Yeah, pretty sure. Only problem is we don’t think it’s possible to travel back …’

  I’m waiting for Mum to react about Mason and Boc, about travelling ten years into the future, but she rubs her neck. ‘Those poor parents. Just awful.’

  I lift a hand, keep pushing through. Testing the water, I guess. ‘They asked if we want to come.’

  There’s a pause before her face pinches with disbelief. ‘Scout, you can’t be serious –’

  ‘You could learn how to jump. I could teach you. We’d still be together.’ The words come fast. Have to get them out before she reacts.

  We’re leaning so close that I can see the raw rims of her eyelids. She shakes her head, just faintly at first but then faster and clearer as her frustration grows. ‘No, Scout, no. Absolutely not. That poor boy has died.’

  My eyes drop. ‘Yeah, I know.’

  ‘You have to stop. Do you understand? I mean it this time –’

  I should have known.

  ‘I mean it. No more. There’s too much at stake.’

  ‘Okay.’

  She breaks off, her eyes travelling over my face. Her skin is so pulled and pale. ‘How much do they know about you?’

  ‘I don’t know. Not much. But I’ll deal with any questions.’

  ‘We can’t have them watching you, understand?’ Mum’s eyes are fixed on mine, her eyebrows raised. ‘No more. Promise?’

  I hate seeing her scared like this. I hold her shoulders, and let my chin drop. ‘It’s okay, Mum. I promise.’

  It’s easy this time. I breathe in, deep at last. ‘Everything’s going to be okay.’

  * * *

  At about eleven thirty on the night they’re due to leave, I head down to Footscray Park. Not sure if the others will be there yet, but I want to allow time to say goodbye.

  I couldn’t risk sending a message, best to stay off-grid these past two days, but I did try to see Mason last night. When I made it to his house, both his parents’ smartcars were in the driveway. Lights shone from the middle rooms in the house but the garage was dark. I’m not sure what it was about the cars and the lights exactly, but for a while I just sat on my bike, one foot braced against the driveway as I tried to picture the scene being played out inside. What would they be saying to each other in there? How must it feel for Mason, maybe telling his parents about his plans, preparing them for the next ten years? Or, perhaps worse, not telling them. Maybe leaving a note to explain once he’s gone.

  In the end, I turned around and rode home. Let him have his last few hours with his family uninterrupted.

  A torch is glowing near the cave entrance when I come close, three figures moving around, carrying clear vacuum-sealed bags that look like they’re packed with clothes.

  One of the figures looks up as I approach. Echo. She manoeuvres her way around the native grasses then just keeps coming, straight into a hug. I’m not ready at first; it’s as if I’ve been hit with a wave of raw emotion. Then again, her brother is dead; this is probably the only way to say hello.

  It’s a real embrace, warm and tight, and as I hug her back I realise that I need this too. We pull away, still no real need for words.

  ‘Are you jumping?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes. Mum and Dad too. We’re going to bunny hop together.’ It’s her parents, the other people here, I realise with a start. Echo’s mum comes over and squeezes my hand so tight in both of hers that I feel the bones crunch; her dad just grunts a hello.
>
  I swallow and say hello too but it sounds hollow. I should say more, but I’m not ready with the right words, so I turn to Echo for help. ‘I’m …’

  ‘It’s okay.’ She squeezes my forearm.

  It doesn’t make sense to me, why they’re jumping; Mason’s the only one who has to escape. In the police’s eyes, they’re the victims. But I guess their whole world just turned upside down. Maybe a trip into new possibility is their way of dealing with all they have lost.

  Movement along the path a few metres away makes us all turn and wait until we recognise who’s coming. We’re nearly there, but still anything could happen.

  It’s Mason and Boc, carrying bags of stuff. They get hugs from Echo, and from her parents too. The relaxed way they speak together in a bunch gives me the feeling that they know each other well. Soon Mason leaves the huddle and makes his way over to me.

  The question is clear in his eyes.

  I answer with a single head shake. ‘I’m … staying with Mum.’ But that’s okay. I’m all right with staying.

  His eyes close for a moment and his body stills. ‘I understand.’ I’m searching for a way into goodbye when he pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket. ‘I wanted to message you but I didn’t want to risk them seeing, so I wrote it down.’

  He holds out the slip. I take it and unfold the paper, tilting it towards the torch so I’m able to make out a name and contact numbers.

  ‘He’s a lawyer,’ says Mason. ‘A friend of our family. I knew you might stay so I asked him to check the file they have on you.’

  My eyes lift, not sure how to respond.

  Mason shuffles closer. ‘They’re going to call you in for questioning, but it’s all for info on me, all right? Even if they try to spook you, our friend said they have no real case on you.’

  ‘That’s … wow. Thanks …’

  ‘He says you don’t have to tell them anything. Just play dumb. And if they hold you in for any longer than an hour, call him, yeah?’

  I have to ask. ‘Does he know about me? Who I –’

  ‘Scout.’ His tone is gruff, impatient. ‘Get that out of your head, okay? Maybe you were illegal once, but not now.’