Free Fierce September by Fleur Beale

we’ve survived.’
    She was right about the shock. None of us was keen to go out on deck until we had to. But the actual disembarkation was straightforward. We walked down the gangway and followed Malia to where a line of buses waited. People with cameras trained on us called questions from behind a barrier. Some people waved back and smiled. I ducked my head and huddled close to my parents. Hera kept her face turned into Dad’s shoulder. Then we were in the bus. We chose the long back seat and sat in the middle, away from the windows and the cameras.
    I saw nothing of the city as we were driven to our destination. Nobody else seemed to be worried about showing their faces to our new world, but I listened to the clamour of voices, trying to draw mind pictures from what I heard.
    Look at that building! It’s round. How weird.
    How high do you reckon that tower is?
    Hey! Those windows are like mirrors!
    Look over there. That guy’s got dreads down to his butt.
    There’s a car! A train sort of thing. Bikes.
    We reached the refugee centre sooner than I was expecting. Fergus was already there and he ushered us quickly inside. A woman greeted each group in turn. ‘How many in your family?’
    ‘Two children, two parents and four grandparents,’ Dad said.
    We had to look into a machine that photographed our eyes. The woman programmed the photos into a computer, smiled at us and directed us to take the lift to our apartment on the seventh floor. ‘Stand in front of the sensor and the door will open.’ She pointed to a door to her left. ‘The dining room’s through there. Come down once you’re settled. You must be hungry by now.’
    We looked at each other and started to laugh. We had forgotten we hadn’t eaten since our early breakfast. ‘There’s been a bit happening,’ Leebar said.
    ‘So I understand.’ The woman smiled, and turned to deal with Trebe and her family standing behind us.
    It didn’t take long to explore our rooms. Hera and I would share a bedroom, my parents were in the second one, and my grandparents had accommodation across the hallway from ours.
    We gathered together in the family room. For a second, we stood still, taking it all in. A television screen was fixed to one wall, a low table stood in front of a sofa. The floor was covered in a light grey carpet. ‘How are we meant to wash it?’ I asked. My grandparents just raised their eyebrows. I ran to the long seat under the window. ‘Do you think it’ll be safe to look out?’
    Danyat patted my shoulder. ‘We can’t hide, dear girl. Go and look your fill.’
    I ran to the window, lifting Hera to kneel beside me on the window seat. We were high up, with a view of roof tops and, in the distance, the bare peaks of hills. When we looked down we could see part of the street below, but the doorway to our building was obscured by a veranda.
    ‘I wonder how the press conference is going,’ Leebar said. ‘I don’t envy Vima – they’ll be asking her some tricky questions.’
    Yes. Where is your husband? What? No husband? Well, where is the baby’s father? I tried to send her loving thoughts.
    It was a long time before we saw the media leaving the building, carrying their cameras.   
    Have you heard? Prin says it’s thanks to Hera that we’re all still alive.  

    Have you heard? Sheen’s frantic. She’s frightened somebody will tell about Hera.

    Have you heard? Roop doesn’t like Merith playing with Hera. She says she’s spooky.
    www.warningtheworld.blogspot.com
    Golly Gosh How Sad
    www.bobbingontheocean.blogspot.com
    Knees still shakin’

CLOTHES AND NEWSCASTS
      S ILVERN WAS THE CENTRE OF a crowd of people and enjoying every moment of it. Paz stood off to one side. He caught sight of me and rolled his eyes. ‘It went well, then?’ I asked.
    ‘I reckon she’s going to be a reporter.’ He shook his head. ‘She comes alive – loves the whole buzz of it.’ It would be on the evening news. ‘Silvern of Taris – media