Click on Saffron’s face.
The engineer knew Saffron hated him to go away, leaving her alone, but what could he do? He’d tell her as soon as she got back, but right now he had to prepare for his trip.
He stripped off, threw a towel round his neck and grabbed a pole leaning by the back door. Out in the yard, he used it to hook a hosepipe perched high in a water butt on the flat roof. The hose had a spray head, which he wedged between angle brackets mounted below the waterline. He stood the pole against the wall and waited for his shower.
Red, orange and yellow nasturtiums tangled with the tomato plants and brightened the place. They were Nature’s colourful bunting, easy to grow, and he noticed they’d come up well this year.
Nothing. Zilch. Not even a dribble. He poked at the spray head and wiggled it, causing a drip to land in his eye. The butt was empty. Saffron had used the water – again. In disgust, he hurled the hose upwards into the barrel and cursed. “For Infinity’s sake.”
He went indoors to dress. In his small backpack he stowed a woollen hat, his night vision mask and a mini stun gun in case he met a giant rat, but no contact discs, nothing to associate him with Titan. As an afterthought, he rolled a fisherman’s sou’wester and stuffed it in the bag. If a patrol stopped him and demanded proof of identity, his chip implant was valid. He didn’t have to check in on the Old Persons Register for another three days. He knew he ran the risk he’d not be back in time, but he couldn’t miss this trip. The team needed him.
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