Day Seven Hundred Twenty Three #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The speck on the horizon has taken on a more recognizable form. Buildings spread out in a line, conforming, I surmise, to the presence of a river or some other feature out of our sight.

The Captain bubbles over with excitement at the prospect of fresh fruit. For he believes he sees groves of trees grouped around the approaches to the city.

Tomas stayed awake late last night smelting the gold from the satellite components. This morning he showed us the results of his labors – four small, shiny rectangles of the precious substance. One for each of us if we wanted to divide them up.

We will make a short day of it. We prefer to enter tomorrow in daylight.

Day Seven Hundred Twenty Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Two caravans passed by us today, and unlike the first, these in their turn tried to interest us in their wares. The Captain was drawn to the fruit they were hawking, but balked at the price. After haggling he passed.

Elijah congratulated him afterwards. And pointed to a hazy speck on the horizon. He said we would find a city at the edge of the desert. No doubt fruit would be cheaper at its source.

We kept on in order – Tomas far to the front, the Captain walking and conversing with Elijah, and I brought up the rear, thinking about many things.

Did that satellite crash accidentally or was it shot down?

Neither Tomas nor the Captain offered an opinion.