The air tickles me. It’s evening now, sundown. I drink a mouthful of cool supple wind as I’m brought out of my cell into the plaza. Mr Turing’s made a circle of soldiers around where the packages landed. His people are hefting tools, spades, shovels, picks. The tribe of Kmart Kids seem to have been scared away, for now at least. He’s almost in control of his world again.
All we have to do is dig to get out from under the web-dome, I try to convince him. Let’s get out of here, all of us. Work together.
Mr Turing has his hands knitted behind his hips again, one set of fingers clutching his wrist, shoulders back, chin outthrust.
‘Cut the power, you say.’ He tilts his beak toward the sky. ‘That’s all that’s required to switch off that godforsaken forcefield?’
I nod at him. ‘There’s gotta b
