"I'M DRIVING round to Bob's," said Ern. "There's UFOs in his chook house again."

Maree paused, the socks she was packing dangling limply from one hand. "Dunno why you'd bother - they won't lay again after this. You know what happened last time. I need you to load the trailer."

"Won't be long," he said, pushing his hat firmly in place as he opened the front door. The flyscreen clattered loudly behind him, obliterating Maree's parting words. She knew nothing she said would make any difference, even if he'd heard. She walked through the kitchen and fastened the flyscreen latch properly, still holding the socks.

Outside, the lawn lay brown and parched, the orange trees she'd planted five years earlier listless in the still, dry heat. The sky, as always these past few months, was filled with tiny silver discs that flitted about like insects, forming occasional patterns and swirls against the blue.

"I'm not leaving without Claudie," said Debbie, pouting.

"Well then, you'd better find him, hadn't you?" replied Maree. "He's probably under the house. You know how funny he gets whenever we go away."

"But I've looked there already." Maree's youngest daughter's signature whine was edging its way into her voice. It wasn't her fault. She was tired. They all were.

"Then you'd better look again. We can't come back for him."

"But Mum! What if -?"

"Or maybe try the shed. We have to leave soon. There's nothing I can do about it."

Debbie spun on her heel and darted out the back door, calling the cat's name as she ran. Maree glanced after her.

Supposedly the silver discs weren't dangerous. The voltage they occasionally discharged was slight and didn't hurt, not even as much as an ant bite. But Maree had decided not to tell her daughter about the Brewzynskis' Siamese; how they'd found it dead on their verandah last week with nothing to explain how it died.

Maree didn't trust the UFOs, nor the federal authorities that were making local farming families relocate to a new community development out at Terrapin Flats, so new that it wasn't even marked on any of the maps. The farm had been in Maree's family for three generations. They'd survived droughts, bushfires and the free trade agreement. If their soil were really contaminated, they'd have known about it years ago. Maree wasn't buying it - she suspected the move was connected to the strange little silver discs. What the hell were they? Where had they come from?

Ern got back an hour later.

"Bob says they're bussing the uni kids back down from the city."

Maree's heart jolted at the thought of Karen. She'd been talking about travelling through South America with a friend before the phone lines started playing up. Maree wanted their eldest safe at home.

"Reckon she might know something about all this UFO business? She's doing computers. Must've learned something more about it all up in the city."

Ern grunted his agreement. He headed straight for the fridge and drank deeply from the two-litre container of orange juice in the door. She didn't bother to tell him off for not using a glass. They'd been instructed to leave all foodstuffs behind as well as all white goods. Where they'd be living soon had all amenities built in. Maree didn't like the sound of that. She wanted her own fridge, her own washing machine and dryer, not something generic a faceless government bureaucrat had picked out of a catalogue. She hadn't liked the sound of anything since the UFOs began to swarm.

Maree watched in the rearview mirror as Debbie flicked through the latest issue of Dolly magazine. Maree hadn't read a magazine herself since Women's Weekly lost the plot and joined the ranks of the worst of them. "My boyfriend is an alien; fashions from other worlds" - she expected a frivolous reaction from teen magazines and tabloids, but the rest of the advertising world had gone insane overnight, too. Fashionable protective clothing, gizmos either to attract the discs or repel them. Articles on how to communicate with alien beings, or acquire protection via psychic angels. Families were being moved off their land, but all the commercial world could do was find new garish ways to make a buck out of the situation.

Maree wanted to reach round the back of her seat and yank the lurid magazine away from her daughter's grip, but she stopped herself, sat back and took deep breaths. Better that Debbie stayed distracted by the magazine instead of thinking too much about poor missing Claudie.

A bright flare of silver on her left dazzled Maree, bringing her back into the moment. It took her a second to comprehend what she was seeing. A small shack entirely covered in silver discs. Ern pulled the vehicle over to the side of the dusty road.

"That army guy told us not to stop," said Maree.

Ern got out, leaving the motor running as he approached the shack. He walked as far as the gate, leaned over it, brought both hands up to shield his eyes from the glare. Once he'd seen enough, he returned to the car, slammed the door shut a little harder than necessary.

"Nailed on," he said, aiming the Toyota and trailer at the road.

"I thought they were too hard. That nothing could penetrate the silver casings?" said Maree, trying for one more look before the car sped out of range.

"Two boys at school did it," said Debbie from the back seat. "Darren Barrister and Michael Broody. They put a saucer in a vice and smashed it with sledgehammers till it bust open. All this liquid dripped out, silver, like thermometer stuff."

Maree flicked her eyes back up to the rear view mirror as Debbie turned a page.

"Reckon I can get a pair of Flak Pantz for my birthday? They're extra thick below the knees, like cricket pads. Just in case the UFOs zap you."

"Deb, those boys shouldn't have been messing with that saucer. Might have been dangerous. Anything could've happened."

"There's nothing in them, Dad. Just that dripping silver stuff. Karen said the government's been cracking them open for months to see inside. When they're new they're really hard but after a few months they get softer and you can smash them open so all the goo leaks out."

"When did Karen ring?"

"She didn't - there's still something wrong with the phones. She emailed. She said Darren and Michael should have left the discs alone."

"She's right," said Ern. "Don't you go messing with those things."

"I wasn't even there!" Debbie cast the magazine aside and pulled her laptop from her backpack. "Karen sent me some pictures from some website. Want to see?"

"Not while we're driving, honey."

Maree focused her attention on the road ahead, somehow comforted by the familiar sound of the Macintosh booting up and the gentle tapping of Debbie's fingers on the keys. The sky was stark blue and mercifully clear of UFOs for the time being. There were fewer of them in the long stretches of sky between towns. Someone on the radio had suggested they were attracted to electricity.

They passed the lifeless carcass of a kangaroo, and then another. Several other mangled furry shapes that could either have been foxes or wombats. Was it just her imagination or was there more roadkill than usual?

The petrol station at Nangatta looked the same as it always had except for the large number of cars parked beside it.

"Can I have a Coke?" said Debbie.

Ern reached into his pocket for coins. "That's the Everinghams' ute," he said to Maree, passing the loose change to Debbie across the back seat. "Told me they weren't gunna relocate, no matter what."

Ern and Debbie got out of the car at the same time. Maree paused to watch her husband stride across the gravel towards the group of men in checked shirts and jeans congregating around the Everinghams' vehicle. A flicker of movement caught her peripheral vision - UFOs milling around the petrol pumps. Glancing up, she saw many more of them hovering in clusters. Just like insects. If they weren't so large and made of metal no one would ever have noticed them.

She followed the arcing silver trail across the sky, back to the ground where a group of girls gathered around the Coke machines. Her own daughter stood at the centre of them, holding her laptop open so everyone could see the screen. Debbie balanced the computer on one palm, swigged Coke from a can with the other. What were they all staring at?

She returned her gaze to Ern. He'd acquired a newspaper and was rolling it on his knee while listening to Alf Everingham speak.

Maree felt the pressure of her bladder. She pushed the car door open just as Ern took a swipe at a low-flying UFO. He hit it square on and sent it shooting sideways. Maree paused, expecting the thing to zap him, but it didn't. The silver disc wobbled for a moment, stabilised its trajectory and flew upwards to join the others of its kind.

Somewhere behind her a dog yelped. She turned to see a border collie leaping enthusiastically into the air, trying to catch a UFO in its jaws. The girls around Debbie's laptop pointed at the dog and laughed. Maree headed for the toilet block.

When she emerged five minutes later the girls were still staring at the screen. Debbie's Coke can lay abandoned on the ground and she balanced the computer with both hands.

"Better go to the loo while we're here - and put that can in the bin," said Maree. "What's so fascinating, anyway?"
Debbie looked up and angled the screen around so Maree could see. The pictures displayed were dark and fuzzy.
"What's it supposed to be?"

"They reckon that's where the saucers come from," said Debbie. "A gap in space where there aren't any stars. They started pouring through one day. Nobody knows why. They just keep coming and coming with no end to them."

Maree leaned in closer, tilting the screen for a better view. She saw an expanse of stars with a dark mass fouling the lower right quarter like a stain.

"Who told you that? Where did you get this picture?"

"Karen emailed it. She reckons this guy at uni hacked a secret government site. Supposed to be a secret only now everybody knows."

Maree examined the image again. "Could be anything. It's probably a fake."

"Karen doesn't reckon. She says Sydney's full of UFOs, covering the streets like autumn leaves. Hey, can I have an ice cream?"

Maree looked across into her teenage daughter's pale blue eyes and freckled skin. "Sure honey, but don't take too long. And don't forget to go to the toilet."

The landscape surrounding Terrapin Flats had changed subtly since the last time they'd been out this way. Maree couldn't immediately say what it was that was different, only that things weren't the same. The army presence was obvious, but that wasn't it.

"Road's new," said Ern, as if reading her thoughts.

She nodded. It had been dirt two years ago. This new one was slick and black, flecked with shards of silver that sparkled in the sunlight.

Maree noted several other vehicles on the road: sedans, utes and four-wheel drives.

"Don't see any coaches," said Ern. "Would've thought there'd be those buses from Sydney by now."

"Karen's probably there already," said Maree. "Probably checked out the house and nabbed the best room for herself."

"Hey - Karen's online!" said Debbie. "Airport's working - they've got wireless out here. Oh. She says she's not coming. Doesn't trust the government. Says we shouldn't go to the new place. Not after they built these roads from - Oh crap, the connection just died."

"What are you talking about?"

"The Internet cut out."

"Maybe you should stop the car, Ern."

"Too late."

Up ahead loomed an army checkpoint. A line of vehicles stretched behind them.

"Put the laptop away, honey," said Maree. Debbie didn't argue.

Ern wound down the window as a young soldier approached.

"Good afternoon, sir. If you and your family'd like to stick to this road for another K, then turn right at the fork. There'll be a sign. Is this all of you?"

"Just the three of us," said Ern.

"Thank you, sir. Have a nice day."

The car passed through the checkpoint and continued along the road.

"Did you notice that soldier's eyes?" said Ern. "Silver irises. Never seen that before."

Over the crest of the hill lay the fork that the soldier had promised. They turned right and soon came upon a row of squat, ugly buildings made from the same sparkling material as the road.

"You don't suppose they're houses," said Maree.

"Warehouses, looks like," said Ern

"Debbie, honey, what did Karen say was wrong with the roads before the Internet cut off?"

Debbie stared at the buildings as they passed. "Only that they're made of crushed-up UFO saucer shells mixed with bitumen. Karen says there's no end to them. The UFOs keep coming and soon the whole world's gunna be covered. When the shells get old, you can crush 'em and mix 'em with stuff. Karen reckons the scientists don't know what else to do."

The road's incline was noticeable. The patch of sky above the traffic stream was dotted with silver discs. Ahead, they could see a town completely constructed from the sparkling black substance, both roads and buildings alike.

"Reminds me of Calle de los Muertos," whispered Maree. She had gone to Mexico with Ange and Tracey straight after they all finished their higher school certificate, well before she'd settled down with Ern. "The pyramids were made of speckled granite. Teotihuacán. It means the street of the dead."

The traffic was bumper to bumper now, moving slowly and steadily, feeding into a long, dark gash in the earth.
"Reckon that's an underground car park?" said Maree.

"I don't like this, Mum," Debbie said. She shrank against the back seat as they neared the gash. The inside was all silvery, the same dead metal hue as the UFOs. "It's kinda like a... a great big mouth swallowing up all the cars. Let's go back."

Her voice was squeaky with panic.

"Everything'll be OK," said Ern, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

"Yep, I know," said Maree, winding up her side window and placing her hand on her husband's knee. Clouds of silver discs continued to flit and skitter overhead as one by one the cars vanished into darkness.

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