Submarine

The instrument clicked. Trevellion walked outside, blinked in the afternoon sunlight, noted the vivid colours of the garden. The cut lawn smelt sweet: a beautiful day, spring in Washington. The avenues were framed in colour, clouds of rose and yellow, pink and white, where the ornamental trees blossomed. Down the highways the traffic streamed, a jet-liner roaring overhead. A beautiful world, fragile, precariously balanced. Trevellion straightened his lanky frame. He'd walk back to his hotel this evening, back to the real world where humanity bustled; where men and women earned their daily bread, free to make their own decisions, to lead their lives the way they chose, to live in peace. What was it that President Roosevelt had told the world, before taking his country into World War II?

Trevellion, walking towards the hustling crowds on the sidewalks, retrieved those words of hope from the recesses of his mind:

'We look forward to a world founded upon four essential freedoms. The first is freedom of speech and expression — everywhere in the world. The second is freedom of every person to worship God in his own way — everywhere in the world. The third is freedom from want… the fourth is freedom from fear.'

The end.