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The chilled predawn light offered just enough illumination to negotiate Canberra’s streets without headlights, but the progress was slow. The sheer volume of domestic flotsam that had migrated from the abandoned yards of Yarralumla made driving a hazardous prospect. If the car broke down or a tyre punctured, Maxine Warrington might quickly find herself in danger and no-one would be rushing to her assistance. The physical risk didn’t particularly worry her. Of greater concern was the prospect of failure – a distinct possibility if she faced any major delay. She drove cautiously past the Chinese Embassy and was keenly aware of the armed guards manning the front gate.

Being so far inland, Canberra had been untouched by the Flood, meaning many areas of the city were disturbingly intact. The militarised zone – the areas around Capital Hill and the ASIO headquarters to the north – had been heavily fortified since the early days of the crisis. Inside the barricades where life had continued almost as normal there were no obvious signs of decay. But that was an illusion. The parameters of normal had been reset. The Sunburst – the first of the twin calamities to strike that December day – had dismembered the world they had known like a circular saw through butter.

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