Chapter 01: Exit, Pursued By A Bee

June 23^rd Lunchtime on the mystical hill of Glastonbury. The famous festival music could just be heard.

“Oh my God I can't believe it
I've never been this far away from home
And, oh my God I can't believe it
I've never been this far away from home.” 

Her damp back tickled by the grass, Kallandra added her Texan accent to the Kaiser Chiefs’ chorus wafting across wheat fields from the Glastonbury rock festival. The blue sky, interrupted only by a few fair-weather clouds, faded away as it seemed swallows ate them. The aroma of strawberries escaped from their picnic basket adding to spilt brown ale. As her left hand scrabbled in daisies and stones, her right played with Derek’s perspiring fingers that transmitted worry. Only a week left on Earth for both of them, and then off on the first manned Mars mission. Both were as lucky as they were skilful to be selected; she as NASA’s youngest trainee astronaut, and he as aeronautical engineer for Eurospace. She knew Derek worried so she didn’t have to.

“Relax, Derek, honey, and flow with the music. Remember when we canoodled here as students, enraptured by Coldplay? Now they’re here again, reformed. So apt, eh? As are Kaiser Chiefs’ lyrics…

“…a million miles from here,” she sang to him, but he seemed disturbed. She persisted. “You know, our space mission?” She sat up to rest on her elbows, straining to listen to the umpteenth repeat of the popular song. Mega-sized amplifiers, reinforced by fifty thousand drunk, high and happy voices, blasted the sounds, but from three miles away. By the time they reached Glastonbury Tor, only the bass and occasional higher frequencies made it. Her hazelnut-brown hair would have hindered hearing, but for the mission she had it styled short so now her ears were unimpeded. She picked up the lyrics –

“It don't matter to me
'Cos all I wanted to be
Is a million miles from here
Somewhere more familiar
Oh my God I can't believe it
I've never been this far away from home…”

She lay back and saw a shape flutter on top of the ruins of St Michael’s tower. The blackbird must have given up competing, and watched them while perched in silhouette. She stopped singing and tried to whistle a friendly greeting to it. Derek laughed – finally, she thought. So that’s what it took: his woman attempting to whistle. The bird took off, probably in fright.