The Song of Mawu. Jeff Edwards
Читать онлайн книгу.
at the far end of the valley the engineers had struck an artesian basin at a depth of approximately two hundred metres. The water itself was slightly alkaline but still potable and they had immediately capped the well, taking great care to disguise its presence as she had instructed.
Ali Akuba had done most of the face to face negotiations with the very difficult and extremely corrupt, Namolan public service. The Fund had, for a relatively small amount of money, had been able to lease the land around the new well on a long-term basis.
The Namolans had considered Ali a rather stupid person for wanting to rent such an uninspiring piece of real estate and Ali had ‘forgotten’ to tell the Namolans that there was now a source of water to be found in the arid valley. He knew that they would never bother to visit the site themselves because it was too close to the refugee camp and the crowds of sick people forced to live there.
With the land and the precious water supply in their possession, Eliza quickly moved to the next stage of her plan.
***
Using The Fund’s very tenuous relationship with the British Government, the Directors lodged a list of very unusual requests with Prime Minister David Foster.
These ‘requests’ resulted in Diplomatic talks taking place between the British PM and President Joseph Lattua of Namola, whereby the Namolan President eventually agreed to allow their British friends to conduct a short military exercise in the hard desert of the Ashloko Valley.
The exercise was designed for British sappers to test the delivery, use, and retrieval of their heavy earthmoving equipment under wartime conditions in co-ordination with the forces of the Grand Army of Namola.
***
So it was on a clear evening a week later, that the Grand Army of Namola moved in battle formation to set up a secured perimeter and protect a specified area from a mythical invading force.
Once the area was ‘secured’, a message was radioed to nearby British Forces and a short time later the Namolian troops heard the distant roar of several approaching aircraft.
Three military transports, their loading ramps lowered, flew in low and disgorged their cargos, which floated down beneath large parachutes to a prearranged drop zone. These were followed by a second wave of aircraft who came in higher, from which a company of sappers parachuted to join their equipment that had already reached the drop zone below them.
Once the sappers had landed and stowed their parachutes, they formed up and were issued further instructions from their sergeants. Quickly and efficiently the men moved off to their allotted tasks.
Once the sappers had landed and stowed their chutes, they quickly moved into position to undertake their assigned tasks. The large steel containers were flung open and the machinery inside driven out. Meanwhile, other sappers used GPS positioning equipment to mark out the position and dimensions of the runway that they were about to construct.
As the sun rose over the lip of the valley, the British engineers were already hard at work clearing a long stretch of valley floor. They were aided by the willing hands of the Grand Army of Namola, who were all excited about showing off their prowess to their more illustrious friends.
After a day of hard work, a sufficient distance had been cleared for the first plane to land, which it did at first light the following day.
From then on a steady stream of aircraft arrived, deposited their loads, and took off, leaving additional troops and heavier equipment which was now used to extend the length of the runway and to erect prefabricated sheds and housing.
A week later a small township of prefabricated buildings had been created, complete with latrines, shower blocks and mess halls.
The members of the Namolan army watched the birth of the town with expressions of wry amusement. Why do all this work in a place like Ashloko? What was the point of it all?
The British officers patiently explained to their Namolan companions that it was a practice exercise in case they needed to do the same in the future and under actual battle conditions.
The Namolans shrugged their shoulders, accepted the fine food served in the mess hall and laughed at the silly British soldiers when their backs were turned.
Finally, the construction was declared to be complete and the British began to pack their equipment into the planes that were once again landing at regular intervals. Less than two days later, the last of the British soldiers were gone and the Namolans returned to their barracks outside Lobacra, much amused by the antics of the silly foreigners.
***
In the baking heat of Ashloko stood a now silent township left behind by the departing troops. They had shown no interest in dismantling and removing the buildings and not far from the village stood the dirt runway stretching into the distance.
From the rim of the valley an observer would have noted a strange new feature on the landscape. A defensive ditch had been dug from the top of the valley to a place close by the refugee camp. Along the length of this ditch were wide and deep holes, giving the whole work the look of a giant’s necklace.
What the departing troops had not been told was that the facilities left behind had been paid for by The Fund and stood on the land which they had leased from the Namolan government.
All was now in place for stage three of Eliza’s plan.
3
It had been one of the most exciting and fulfilling moments of Eliza’s life when she had climbed down from the small airplane that had brought her to the silent village along with Nori and Ali Akuba and the two South African engineers.
Depositing their luggage in the nearest living quarters, the South Africans led the small group to the top of the valley, where they found a small scrub covered ledge.
The engineers pulled aside some dead branches and lifted some rocks to expose a large brass spigot.
‘Would you like the pleasure of turning it on?’ Ali asked Eliza. ‘After all, this is your project.’
‘No, I’m quite happy to stand back here and watch it flow. These gentlemen did all the hard work.’
‘In that case I declare Project Eliza under way,’ declared Ali, ‘Turn the handle.’
With a nod the men turned the handle causing a sudden gush of water to pour out onto the dry earth. The rush of water flowed over the rim of the ledge and down to the channel which had been cunningly disguised in the side of the hill. They all watched a miracle unfold as the water came to the first of the man-made depressions.
‘How long do you think?’ asked Eliza.
One of the engineers replied, ‘It will take a few hours for the first hole to fill, so the entire length will take days, possibly a week.’
‘How often will we have to top up the water in the system?’ asked Nori.
‘It depends on usage and evaporation but I should think that the spigot will have to be opened for two or three days each month. That way it will save the water from running to waste. We’ll stay up here for a couple of weeks to monitor the situation.’
‘Let’s get back to the village and we can begin work,’ grinned an excited Eliza.
Over the following week, Eliza and her friends were kept busy moving as many of the refugees from their diseased camp at the valley’s mouth to where the fresh, clean water and ample shelter now waited.
In a short space of time, schools and medical clinics were established and staffed from among the refugees themselves. All in facilities unknowingly supplied by the British engineers.
***
Aboard their aircraft, Ali closed his eyes and tried to drift off as well but thoughts kept flitting through his brain.
Uppermost in his mind was what he had left behind in the camp. It was his pet project and what had surprised him most was that, with all the money