His name’s Billy, the man said.
Li hadn’t asked, but she understood the hunger to say your child’s name. They came from a town called Lawrence, nearly two hundred and fifty k north-east. A highway service hub that had no one to service anymore. His mother had helped them pre-register for the precincts the year they finished school, when it was already clear there would be no work in Lawrence, and pretty soon no town either. The baby was coming by then. They hadn’t planned to have their One Child allowance so early, but his mum said with the way Wars were going, government might change back to Replacement in a few years anyway, so maybe they could have another one later. His mother was dead now – some kind of lung disease.
The dusters get pretty bad at home, the woman told her. We thought it might be better further south.
There was no advance on their pre-registration but they’d heard Sumud might be opening a quota so they decided they were just going to try. They paid for a ride as far as they could because they were worried about Billy’s lungs. Their money had run out three days ago and they’d been walking since then. They hadn’t heard about makecamp yet. Li organised her pack while they absorbed the disappointment. They told her they had a friend of a friend in Kutha who’d put them up while they figured out what to do next.
Li said, Maybe there’ll be a new makecamp soon.
They wanted to know why she was going north. She kept it short to ward off pity, but with enough detail to trigger any useful response. And their reaction, the quick glance they shared, was a small, painful adrenaline shot.
What? You saw something?
The woman said, We talked to a guy the day before yesterday who’d seen a whole mob of children going that way.
He saw the bus?
She shook her head and unlatched the baby. No bus, she said. Just children. Walking.
Li held very still. Walking where?
The man took the baby and settled him against his chest. That was weird, eh, he said. The kids told him they were going up to Lake Ero to camp – you know the big salt lake? They were all kitted out with tents and sleeping bags. He tried to talk them out of it, but they said if they went back Army would get them. He said none of them looked old enough for the ballot but he couldn’t change their minds.
There was a buzzing in Li’s ears, getting in the way of thought. No adults with them?
The woman shook her head again. That’s why he was still worrying about it. They were dressed for the cold, he said, and he checked they had food and water. He gave them some more, what he could spare. He was going to report it to Agency when he got to the next Source booth.
Li remembered how long the bus had been stopped in Kutha. How the newsagent owner had talked about engine trouble. She started repacking, fast, trying to keep her hands steady. When did he see them?
The man glanced over at the woman for confirmation. Guy said two days before, right? So that’s what? Three and a half, four days ago?
And how far to the lake?
They told her the south-western edge was two hundred and fifty k north of Kutha, give or take. That was past the turnoff to the base.
Three nights since she left Kutha. She’d lost last night to the duster, but kids got tired. If she pushed it now, cut down on sleep, she could be there in another three, maybe even overtake them. She could feel understanding pressing in and she needed to be walking when it came.
She hefted up her pack. Said goodbye and left them in the house, pulling the leggings up over her nose and mouth again as she stepped through the door. She didn’t leave the gun.
The dust settled slowly through the ninth day and into the night. All that time, Li walked. The access road wasn’t much more than two hours’ drive out of Kutha. If the bus had broken down near the town someone would have walked back in for help. It must have been closer to the barracks. But a bus was too valuable to walk away from. One of them would have stayed with the kids, wouldn’t they? Set up camp. Not just let them wander off.
She didn’t know how it had happened, but if they were on their own then she understood why they hadn’t gone to the barracks. Knew what being taken to an army base would have meant to kids who’d watched recruiters sniffing around their older friends in makecamp, who’d have no good reason to believe that being under-age would protect them. There would have been kids on the bus who’d grown up out here. Maybe they’d camped at the lake with their parents. Maybe it felt safe there.
The trucks kept passing, churning up the dust, but there weren’t many people on the road here. When she drank, she thought of Matti up ahead, dry-mouthed, hungry, walking to nothing. She barely ate. She still had a few readies but she needed to save them. She imagined Matti in the back of one of those trucks. Unable to call out, unable to scream. He’ll reach down and grab you up and take you away.
She was glad Frank wasn’t here.
When she came to the next house, some time before midnight, she waited and watched before she went in. It was set well back from the road and she was about thirty metres away in a clump of emu bush, but visibility was good. Open ground, a clear sky now, the moon making clean-edged shadows.
Her head was okay, her head told to keep going, but her body was giving
