Nature of Ash, The by Mandy Hager

yachts and kayaks but today it seems ominouslybereft of life, only the ferry slowly chugging out towards the south. We climb right to the top of Tinakori hill and sit on pine stumps amid the bracken, staring out across the city to the sea beyond.
    Below us the motorway is backed up with traffic heading north. It’s a sobering sight. Even the people who still own cars hardly ever take them out — it’s too expensive to fork out for petrol and all the emission fees. Now I guess they figure it’s better to brush off the cobwebs and fork out the dough than end up being trapped in the city if the military takes over or when the food runs out. I’m jealous, but know I have to hang around to do the ‘proper’ thing for Dad. If it was up to me I’d can the whole bloody performance and grieve in private, but Dad worked so hard — he deserves a public sending-off. Besides, he’d not forgive us if we didn’t stay for George’s funeral as well. Dad loved George — he used to joke that they were once conjoined twins, separated at birth. It’s true they even looked alike, had the same tinges of red hair. Dad looked so old without his hair . I can see the scorch marks on his skin as if he’s right here in front of me, all red and—
    ‘Look, over there!’ Jiao is pointing towards the harbour entrance where a big-arse warship is nosing in towards Barretts Reef. Sharp-snouted and painted an ugly grey, it looks for all the world like a giant robotic shark. It’s still too far away to tell if its flag belongs to Them or Us, but just the sight of it’s unnerving. This is all getting way too real.
    I keep my eye on the ship as we descend through the scrub. By the time we’ve reached the motorway overpass, it’s passed Seatoun and is heading towards theinner harbour. On its stern, the insignia of the Western Alliance flutters in the breeze. This can’t be good. New Zealand’s frigates are trailer-sailers compared to this bloody great death machine. A missile fired from its flanks could wipe out hundreds — maybe thousands — in one hit. No doubt it’s here to protect the interests of our government and the WA, but I don’t trust our PM to place his citizens’ safety first. Surely this ship’s very presence puts us more at risk? It ups the stakes — turns this from a South Seas argy-bargy into a proxy war between the WA and the UPR. Talk about meat in the sandwich. Dad always feared this .
    When we get back to the apartment the answerphone is full of messages again, so while Jiao and Mikey start to prepare our evening meal I work my way through them, taking down names and numbers but not bothering to call back. Only the very last message is urgent. It’s Jeannie, sounding tense. She wants me to call her straight away.
    I dial her number, hoping maybe she’s had a breakthrough on the threatening notes or news of Mum.
    ‘Are you free if I come round right now?’ she asks.
    ‘Yeah. Is something wrong?’
    ‘I’ll be there soon.’
    She’s either seriously nearby or worried, because she’s here within ten minutes, all uniformed up.
    Mikey takes one look at her and flings up his hands. ‘I didn’t do nothing wrong.’
    Jeannie laughs. ‘It’s all right, Mikey. I’m here to speak with Ashley, that’s all.’
    I point the way to Dad’s study, but she shakes her head.
    ‘Let’s catch the last of the sun, eh? I’ve been stuck inside too much today.’
    ‘What’s up?’ I ask as soon as we’re settled on our tiny balcony.
    ‘Have you been following the news?’
    ‘We just watched the warship come in. I’m guessing that’s not good?’
    ‘Understatement of the century,’ she says. ‘This whole thing’s escalating hour by hour. Confidentially, the word is that the PM will announce martial law before the evening’s out. He and the Cabinet have been flown to an undisclosed location, and they’ve put the call out for the Territorials to report asap.’ Her hands are two white-knuckled fists.
    ‘And