The End of the Tunnel by Capon Paul

Author:Capon, Paul [Capon, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Juvenile Fiction
Publisher: Thunderchild Publishing
Published: 2015-04-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

The next stage of the explorers’ journey was a great improvement on anything that had preceded it. They still traveled by rail, but they traveled in luxury. They had been given what was probably the flabby commandant’s personal railcar, a smart affair painted red and gold, superbly upholstered and elaborately furnished. There was plenty of room, and riding in it was like riding on a cloud. It was drawn by a gleaming, new electric dinkey, and its driver was a young soldier with blue pompons on his shoulders and a genial expression — he was probably the equivalent of a corporal, the foursome decided. He had the pleasantest face they had so far seen.

The visitors spoke little, for there was so much to see and wonder over. The mist was still with them, but it wasn’t any thicker, and they had a fairly clear view of everything within a hundred yards of the railway. The air was warm without being uncomfortably hot, and the light grew steadily stronger. It had none of the sparkle and sharpness of sunlight, and in place of clear-cut shadows there were only vague blotches of shade that bore almost no relation to the shape of the objects that cast them.

Soon after they left the frontier post, the landscape became quite gentle and, once they were used to its outlandish features, even quite attractive. There were still no trees or grass, but there was a luxuriant emerald-green moss that seemed to grow everywhere. Browsing on it were herds of domestic animals — goats, deer, sheep and cattle. They also saw pigs and great numbers of tough-looking little donkeys.

Although there was nothing that could be called soil, there were fields of a sort — tracts that had been spread with dead moss, crushed rock and presumably some form of compost. On some of these tracts hardy-looking crops grew. There was some barley, but mostly there was millet. Boyd said he would bet that the bread Yoaf had given them was made from a mixture of millet and barley.

They saw several people, but all were either soldiers or peasants. There seemed to be a military depot every two or three miles, and the troops hanging around the blockhouses looked as brutal and remorseless as those at the frontier post. They made Ruth feel uneasy, and she remarked that she couldn’t see the point of them.

“After all, these people can’t have enemies, can they?” she said.

“I don’t suppose so,” said Tom. “It’s more likely that the soldiers’ chief job is to keep the peasants down. The peasants we’ve seen so far seem thoroughly cowed.”

“Yes, poor things.”

The peasants working in the fields or tending the cattle and even the children wore baggy trousers like those worn by Yoaf and the waitresses. All the men were bearded. Tom did not think they were slaves since there were no overseers, but they were certainly as abject as slaves. They seemed totally lacking in spirit and were ready to bow to anybody and anything, even the railcar.

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