were full. But it was Sunday, and he hadn’t seen Colin since the corridor outside COG two days ago, and this contraption was a long way from Emirates business class. He’d tried focusing on the horizon, thinking perhaps looking off into the distance would help. It didn’t; the horizon’s relentless bucking just made him feel sicker. Away from them stretched vast tiered mounds of grey and yellow earth, the trucks moving across them only just visible, kicking up dust soundlessly as if he was watching a silent movie. He’d never been to the state Resources Minister’s electorate, and he could see why. It was fucking miles from anywhere, and mainly dirt.
Finally they lowered to the earth and with desperate fingers Robert unbuckled himself, his palms slippery with sweat. Inside the aircraft hangar the air conditioner hit him like a blow. Ah. Power. He nearly collapsed on the cool concrete there and then, wanting to be enveloped in its icy body hug. But you couldn’t do that when you were Premier. You could barely do anything. His phone rang. He checked the screen. Carl, the state Energy Minister. He pressed.
‘Bob. You nearly here? Julie’s rung three times already.’
Robert turned to Damo.
‘How long?’
‘Eighteen minutes, sir.’
‘We’ll be there in twenty. Well,’ Robert corrected, glancing at Damo, ‘eighteen.’
‘There’ll be a coldie waiting for you.’
The mood was sombre when he arrived in the vast farmhouse dining room. The state Resource Minister’s personal property had become a de facto safe house of sorts, with easy access by air an hour from Sydney in an area still with power, and plenty of room in some pimped up shearers quarters for the various Cabinet members. Security had of course tried to convince them all to stay in that sweaty bunker below Parliament House, but as he walked in he was annoyed to see that the Deputy Premier, Michaela Flanagan, was present, together with two junior members of his Cabinet whose names eluded him. They were all gathered around the microphone implant in the middle of a vast timber dining table. As he approached, Carl simultaneously dialled a number on the pad next to it and handed him a long-neck. Robert took the drink and nodded to those assembled, sitting down. The phone picked up.
‘Julie,’ Carl said, leaning towards the speaker. ‘You there, mate?’
‘I am,’ came the Minister for Home Affairs’ rounded vowels. ‘As is Mr Royce,’ she added. ‘So we’re just waiting for Josh.’
‘Yes, the treasurer will be here in a minute,’ said the Federal Minister for Resources. ‘How’s it going over there?’ He chuckled. ‘Brings a whole new meaning to keeping the lights on.’
Robert’s phone pinged and he looked down at it. Colin. Where are you?? I need to talk to you! Followed by the requisite pink hearts and rainbows. Robert swallowed and held it at a discreet angle to type his reply. Darling, in a meeting. Call you as soon as I can.
‘Barton, I’m glad you see this as a matter of amusement,’ said the Federal Minister for Home Affairs in clipped tones. ‘What I want to know is, Premier, how are you going with arrests?’
Robert looked up, reddening even though he knew no-one could have possibly seen. Arrests. Yes.
‘Yes quite. Carl,’ he said, gruffly, ‘why isn’t the Police Minister here? Any updates on that?’
‘Ah, he’s at the Sydney control centre I believe, Premier,’ said Carl, blanching. ‘I’ll just see if I can …’ He pulled out his mobile and searched for the number. Michaela chipped in, leaning towards the phone.
‘Good afternoon, Ministers. Michaela Flanagan. Deputy Premier. I’m so glad you raised that,’ she purred. ‘I understand the Federal Police are intending to charge the perpetrators – when they’re found – with terrorism. It seems that it would be the AFP that is coordinating arrests then, wouldn’t it? More a Federal matter?’
There was a pause.
‘My instructions are that the MoU with the AFP relies on full cooperation from NSW Police,’ the Federal Minister for Resources replied. ‘Those being the authority present on the ground.’
‘Yes of course, Minister,’ Robert said, glaring at Michaela. She was always just that little bit too bold. One of the security detail approached the table as a light started to flash on the phone.
‘Police Minister now on line two,’ he said, nodding at the console.
‘Oh, oh goodness,’ Carl said, putting his phone down. ‘If we just click on that he’ll join the call …?’
‘Should do, sir.’
Michaela held a hand up. ‘We’ll get to the Police Minister in a moment,’ she continued smoothly. Robert stared at her. You didn’t keep the Police Minister waiting at a time like this. Unless you were Michaela Flanagan, evidently. ‘But first, if we could just ask one thing before we do – the matter of the power plants themselves,’ she said, glancing at Robert. ‘Perhaps Carl as Energy Minister could fill us in. How long until we can get power restored?’
Restored? Why hadn’t he thought of that. Of course that was the most important thing. Yes. How about how to get the power back?
‘Thank you, Michaela, certainly,’ began Carl. ‘Look, you know, I won’t lie. This is not ideal. I’d say we’ve lost at least 7K megawatt hours of electricity capacity. I mean there’s a bunch of renewables and a few pussy gas-fired plants about the place, but these babies – the three that got hit, that’s Eraring, Liddell and Bayswater – that’s a fuck of a lot of power, if you know what I’m saying. Love to hear about the chances of getting it from the other states by the way,’ he said, leaning into the microphone while holding Michaela in a look. ‘Because right now that’s all we’ve got. Even a national rationing scheme might be necessary.’ They nodded at each other and he leant back. ‘If I could be so bold.’
‘And we can assume,’ Michaela said, taking her turn to lean forward, ‘that the Commonwealth will trigger the company’s rights under the Terrorism Insurance Act, am I right? Make the necessary declarations and so on? Any news on that at your end?’
‘Ms Flanagan,’ said the Minister for Home Affairs, pleasantly, ‘I don’t follow.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry,’ Michaela said. ‘The Terrorism Insurance Act. Clapped-out old thing you guys passed a few years ago, seems it might come into its own now. Provides that the Commonwealth will foot the bill for any costs from terrorism incidents excluded by an insurance contract. Under the usual terrorism ouster, I mean.’
‘Oh that,’ said the Minister, in a tone that sounded to Robert like she hadn’t understood a word. ‘Yes I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. We need those arrests first though, don’t we. And as we have said, all the resources of the Commonwealth are available in that regard.’
‘Thank you, Minister,’ Michaela said. It was like watching a rat bare its teeth. ‘That is good to know. And let us know if you need anything from us to make that declaration.’ She sipped on the glass of white wine at her elbow.
‘Of …?’
‘Of a declared terrorist incident under your Act,’ said Michaela, rolling her eyes at Carl. ‘To trigger the reinsurance. Look – I’m sure Treasury can fill
