Later that night, while Finn was lying in bed trying to sleep, the storm broke. Normally Finn loved a good thunderstorm but tonight it just seemed to aggravate him even more. His whole room would light up with the lightning, and the booms of thunder felt like they were directly above him. Going out to the lounge, Finn opened the door to the balcony, the wind and rain immediately attacking him. He stood out there as the storm passed to the north, the rain soaking his t-shirt. Sydney sure knows how to put on a good storm, he thought to himself. He turned from the elemental beauty of the sky and ocean to the slick interior of his apartment. It didn’t look real to him. It didn’t look impressive, like the place of a successful and strong guy anymore. It looked hollow.
The next day he woke late in the morning. It was a Tuesday but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t going into work. The week before, his boss had given him and almost all of his colleagues their marching orders. He’d seen it coming. The city had basically ground to a halt and companies were shedding people left, right and centre. The ease with which he’d been fired from his prestigious job underscored to him that his job had not done anything that was actually useful to society. Financially, he was okay for the short term, having saved enough to see him through a year or so comfortably.
Not really knowing what to do, he took a walk down Campbell Parade, onto Hall Street, heading towards his favourite café. The storm had passed overnight and it was now a bright, glorious day on Bondi Beach. Yet it was a strange feeling walking through what was normally a bustling scene of cafés, restaurants, bars and shops. There were very few people about and, though it took a moment for Finn to notice, those who were around were silent.
No one was talking. And really, what was there to be said? thought Finn. Our country is being invaded and we lost the war in record time. What now? Are we supposed to just go back to our normal lives and get on with business like nothing had happened? Finn pondered.
Wandering up to the café, he was relieved to find it still open. He stepped inside, the coolness of the polished-concrete floor striking him immediately. ‘Hey Sophie, can I get one of those egg rolls and a flat white?’
‘Sure, Finn,’ replied the tanned English girl behind the counter. She’d been working there for the last two months and had gotten on a first-name basis with Finn pretty quickly.
Finn watched her bending over to get the roll out of the display unit. Even with everything turning to shit, he was glad to see he could still appreciate a beautiful woman.
‘Here you are. That’ll be 16 dollars thanks,’ she said with a smile.
‘Thanks, have a great day,’ replied Finn politely, walking out thinking how lovely she was. There was something about English girls that Finn found mesmerising.
At home he put on Bob Marley’s Kaya and settled down on the balcony with his screen, going to the news sites immediately, out of force of habit. The news sites were entirely dedicated to the invasion and, not surprisingly, the withdrawal of the troops from the frontline. The headlines were pretty bleak — ‘China Advancing’, ‘Army Morale at All-Time Low’, and ‘Mining Shares Fall to Historical Lows’. All of which was big news, obviously, but Finn was looking for someone to explain what would happen next.
Then, a call came through. It was Chris.
‘Hey mate, what’s up?’ asked Chris, his voice lacklustre.
‘I’m back in Bondi. Dad was driving me nuts.’
‘Cool, I’ll swing by.’
‘Right, see you soon.’
Thirty minutes later Chris walked into Finn’s kitchen, grabbed two beers from the fridge and went out onto the balcony. ‘Crazy times, huh mate?’ said Chris, handing Finn one of the beers.
‘Yeah, don’t really know what to do with myself,’ Finn replied, tipping his bottle at Chris in thanks. ‘Part of me wants to just go out, join the army and fight the bastards out there. The other part of me thinks, fuck it, let ’em have the shitty mines — we can do without them — might be tough for a while but, hey, life goes on right?’
‘Yeah I’m hearing you,’ said Chris, settling into a chair. ‘I’d love to go out there and unleash on those fuckers. I just can’t believe they think they can just steam in here and take over our land and mines.’
‘Well it looks like they’re right, from what’s happening,’ said Finn.
‘Fuckers.’
‘Hey, did you see Hudson on last night? What a pussy,’ said Finn, settling back into his chair.
‘Yeah, I saw him. He looked like he was shitting himself,’ Chris grinned.
‘He must have had a pretty rough few weeks, I guess,’ Finn laughed.
‘Well,’ Chris said, getting serious, ‘he should have seen this coming. It’s been all over the news the last few years that China was building its military presence.’
‘Sure, but to be fair, everyone thought they had India in the cross-hairs, not us,’ replied Finn, staring out across Bondi Beach to the Pacific Ocean.
‘Yeah well, I still think they should have seen this coming.’
That afternoon the boys drank and talked and were joined by a few others. They stayed at Finn’s apartment until around 7 pm, when Finn kicked them all out. There were no bars open and besides, he didn’t feel like going out — he wanted to be alone.
After they left, Finn ambitiously opened a bottle of red wine. He still couldn’t help thinking about fighting the Chinese. Even though the government had just rolled over, he still felt a jolt of ambition to join the forces. He wandered around his lounge room, at a loose end. Suddenly, he went to his cupboard and got out an old disc. Putting it in his screen, he sat back with a glass of wine. A young Finn appeared on the screen, in army uniform, with a group of other reservists. They were hauling gear through the bush, joking and laughing. He remembered that weekend — they’d done a mock mission and his team had destroyed the opposing team, taking them all prisoner without a single casualty on their end. He sat there, the images from the screen flickering over his face, absorbed in his memories. He watched his younger self jubilantly high-fiving and back-slapping his teammates at the end of the mission, just before the screen went black.
He remembered why he hadn’t stuck with it. The commitments became too much; he was missing out on valuable party time with his friends and, as his father had repeatedly said, you didn’t win friends and influence people by playing army guys on the weekend. Eventually, missing out on all the fun with his mates while he was staring down the barrel of a weekend spent with smelly young guys, most of whom Finn considered to be dicks, lost its appeal.
He walked away from the reserves, in the end, listening to his dad’s advice that his career should be his main focus. Finn had never before regretted leaving that phase behind. He went on to focus on other things — a high-income lifestyle that gave him plenty to keep busy and stimulated, even if he’d considered his job a joke. But now, seeing how easily the life he’d built had all been dismantled, he almost wished he’d stayed in the army. He remembered how truly challenged he’d felt by it. The feeling was akin to being sidelined in a game of footy, seeing your side miss tackles and get thumped while you’re powerless to do anything about it. Finn wanted to get in there and do something, be challenged. Anything was better than this, doing nothing, feeling useless. After sitting there, dreaming of distinguishing himself with heroics in the field of battle, Finn told himself to quit being an idiot and went to bed, drunk, hollow and depressed.
Chapter 4
The night before, Ambassador Xian had watched Hudson’s address to the nation from the heavily guarded consulate. All the news streams had broadcast the message. Xian felt an immense relief that Hudson had the sense to call it off. Given the withdrawal of troops and retreat, total surrender was now Hudson’s only option.