Blue Remembered Earth

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Late May, after the long rains. The ground had borrowed moisture from the clouds; now the sky claimed its debt in endless hot, dry days. For the children, it was a relief. After weeks of bored confinement they were at last allowed to wander from the household, beyond the gardens and the outer walls, into the wild.

It was there that they came upon the death machine.

‘I still can’t hear anyone,’ Geoffrey said.

Sunday sighed and placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder. She was two years older than Geoffrey, and tall for her age. They stood on a rectangular rock, paces from the river that still ran fast and muddy.

‘There,’ she said. ‘Surely you can hear him now?’

Geoffrey kept a firm grip on the wooden aeroplane he was carrying.

‘I can’t,’ he said. He heard the river, the sighing of leaves in acacia trees, drowsy with the endless oven-like heat.

‘He’s in trouble,’ Sunday said determinedly. ‘We should find him, then tell Memphis.’

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