Dark Matter (31 page)

The bus moved and with that, they both found themselves leaning forward, straining for their first glimpse of the dome's interior.  The bus in front resolutely obscured their front view however, so they pushed themselves to the side window, like two gawping tourists.  It was bright inside, far brighter than they had expected.  The light seemed intense and natural.  At first, they couldn't see much more than the interior of the dome's surface, which seemed to stretch around them like the horizon.  The further they travelled in the more they hoped to see signs of alien activity.  They saw buildings that were obviously man made and had been in existence for many years.  Tall structures revealed themselves to be huge cranes, mechanical diggers, and conveyor belts.

Nothing remotely alien so far, save for the presence of a significant number of alien guards, marching and manning posts,
Jane reflected.

They could now start to see the sheer number of mineworkers.  The normal complement of 300 miners had been bolstered by probably 500 more workers, all prisoners judging by their clothing.  As they could see nothing immediately alien, they sat back in their seats, wary of attracting attention.  The bus trundled on, finally coming to a stop at the head of the large, opencast pit.  The miners immediately disembarked, keen to clock on, and get their day started.  Jane and George followed behind, both wondering exactly what to do now.  Their dilemma resolved itself in the shape of the shift foreman, a tall gaunt Mexican who didn't like surprises.

'They never tell us when these inspections are to take place.  My day is busy enough as it is, but I will show you around the best I can.  You 'merican?'

'No we are British, but on secondment to the US division’ Jane replied brightly.

'Si, si.  Well let’s get started.'  The shift foreman lead them as if he were a travel guide, explaining the history and basic facts of the mine without a thought as to whether they knew or cared.  'Mining in this area is believed to have first begun in the time of the Incas.  In its lifetime, it has produced about 150,000 troy ounces of gold.  Before the involvement of the Sunarr, it was producing an annual rate of 11,000 ounces, now it has increased to 48,000 ounces.  A four-fold increase.’

The “tour” took them around the mine and its workings, the foreman never stopping to ask whether there were any questions, never caring either.  At last they arrived back where they had started, the foreman looked pointedly at his watch to show that he had given them all the time he could spare.

'Well thank you very much,' Jane said giving him her best smile, resting her head slightly to the right, knowing the effect this usually had on men.  It worked.

'Si.  You're most welcome.'  The smile the foreman returned fell well short of the mark, but it was the best he had.

'We will be here for a while; there are some things we need to establish.'

'Si, of course.  If you need me just ask one of the men.'  He said in a way that left them in no doubt that they shouldn't trouble him again, no matter how charming Jane's smile was. 
That suits me just fine,
thought Jane.

Now they were two geologists, unsupervised in the mine.  They followed one of the conveyor belts, believing that this would look innocent enough.  George took a number of photographs, unhappy not to have his professional camera with him; he was making do with a compact SLR.  Jane paused occasionally to inspect some rock, picking up small ones every now and again.  They came to a stop at a junction of the conveyor belt, where convicts were reducing stray large rocks into several smaller ones, and replacing them on the belt.  It looked like tough work, and they didn't seem to be enjoying it in the least. 

'Any of you speak English?'  Jane asked whilst inspecting the rocks the convicts were smashing. 

'I do.  My name is Saeb.  My friend here Benjamin also speaks English.'

'Shalom.'

'Good.  We are both journalists, we are investigating these camps.  What can you tell us?  Keep working we don't want to be spotted.'  Jane instructed them.

'There are other camps like this?'  Benjamin asked with some incredulity.

             
'Yes.  There are dozens all around the world wherever there are gold deposits.'

'We were brought here against our will.  We were in Reclusorio Norte prison.  I am Palestinian, my friend here is Israeli.  Conditions here are not good.'  Saeb stated, trying to keep the passion out of his voice.

'There is no official acknowledgement of these camps.  No one in the know is asking any questions for fear of upsetting relations with the Sunarr.'  Jane replied.

'So it's true.  We are slaves.'  Benjamin observed, 'This is not acceptable, no man should be enslaved.  I don't care what these Sunarr offer.  Remember, it always starts with the lowest.  They will subvert the governments next.  Then no one will be free.'

'I think that has already started.'  Jane replied, wishing she could offer some good news. 
Perhaps I can? 
'Can you get messages out?'

‘
We will.'  Saeb assured here.  'Although I don't know how yet.  We are working on an organised resistance.'

Jane scribbled in her pocket notebook; she tore out the page, screwed it up, and dropped it on the floor.

'That's the address of a local hotel.  If you can get a message out send it to me there, I'll have arranged to have it forwarded to me.  I'll use the same point as a drop off.  Good luck.'

Jane and George moved on, acutely aware that staying too long in one place might seem suspicious.  Using the perimeter of the open cast mine, they slowly moved round in a full circle.  George taking photographs periodically to build a full map of the dome's interior.  They spoke to other convicts, although they were less cooperative than the Palestinian and the Israeli.  For the most part, they wanted to complain about their treatment and lack of access to lawyers or relatives.  One convict proved different however.  Calm, well-spoken and possessing a genuine sense of humour, he was another one who didn't fit the role of convict.

'Names Banks, Leroy Banks.  Before I ended up in a Mexican prison, I was running a chain of jewellery stores back in the states.  I still own it, but can't manage it from here.'  Leroy waved an arm around to indicate that his surroundings were less than ideal for running a retail chain.

'I'm George.  I had a nice life as a Professor of Military History.  I took some time out as a freelance photographer and ended up in the UN when the Sunarr landed.  Life's been kind of strange since then.  How did you end up in a Mexican prison?'

'I have a branch in Mexico City.  The day I was there, it was robbed.  The guy pistol-whipped an old lady to the ground right in front of me.  I shot him in the face.  Guns are illegal in Mexico.'  Leroy added with a shrug.

'In Britain too.  But I guess if it had happened in the states they would have given you a medal.'

Leroy smiled at that.  Grateful that he had made a connection with someone who didn't seem to judge him just because he had committed a crime under Mexican law.

'You should talk to the Palestinian and the Israeli.'  George added, trying to be of help.

'You mean Saeb Tibi and Benjamin Yogev?  Yeah I know them.  Why's that?'

'It just seems to me that you have more in common with them than would meet the eye.'  George winked at Leroy and moved on.

'So what do you think?’  George asked Jane as they walked off.

'I think' Jane replied, not really knowing yet what she really thought, but instead developing her thoughts as she spoke, 'I think, the Sunarr know exactly what they want from us and we don't have a clue as to what we will get.  I would say in return, but the trade, if that's what it is, isn't equal.  What about you?'

'I think you should stand in front of me and hold up that rock.' 

Jane knew George better now;
he wouldn't make such a request unless it was important,
and so she obligingly did as she was asked.  George snapped away and then pointed his camera down, indicating that he had finished.

'OK so now you have a nice picture of me and Rocky.'

'I also have photos of a Sunarr building that they seem particularly interested in protecting.'

Turning round to stand at George's side, she could see the building.  Built on a high mound with a commanding view, it was, essentially just an oblong box except there were large cables protruding from it, which appeared to run all the way to the dome's interior wall.  There were four Sunarr guards on duty and a heavy weapon mounted on a tripod.

'They do seem very keen to keep people out of there don't they?'  Jane responded, thanking her lucky stars to have a seasoned war photographer with her.  'What do you think it is?'

'Could be anything.  Communications, Command Post, but I haven't seen any activity to suggest either of those really.  Beside they have the ship for those.'

The ship was about five hundred meters in the other direction.  It too was guarded, but only lightly.  It sat there gleaming in the sunlight, a constant reminder that this area was under the authority and control of the Sunarr.  George fired a couple of bursts from his camera then moved on with Jane.

They had little time left now; the buses were ready to return the leaving shift to San Simon de Guerrero, the shifts overlapping by an hour now, another innovation of the Sunarr.  They walked back to the collection point and boarded the bus, among the last to do so.  One of the mineworkers smiled at Jane.

'You are geologists?'

'Yes we are.’  Jane replied, seeing the opportunity to probe a little.

'What do you think of our mine?'

'Well the results look promising, but we will have to wait for the lab analysis.  How have things changed since the Sunarr took over?'

The mineworker took the seat in the adjacent aisle, leaning over and lowering his voice.

'Well, things are good, they pay us well.  Too well in fact, it worries me.  The involvement of the prisoners worries me too, but I have a family so what can I do?'

'How much do they pay you?'

'Our pay has changed.  Before we were paid the going rate, now we are paid on both the price of gold and the amount the mine produces.  My pay is very high now.'  He said this almost by way of apology, that he felt that he was being paid more than he was earning.

'And the prisoners?'  Jane prompted.

'Si, the prisoners.  This is not good.  You understand that we never asked for them, never wanted them.  They work, they are fed and given water.  A mule has a better life.' 

'Do you have contact with the Sunarr?'

'No, nor do I think does the foreman.  We have a manager who deals with them.  He does not speak to the likes of us.' 

'There is something more isn't there?'

'Si.  But this you already know I think.  Production has already gone up four times and it is still increasing.  The reserves here will be gone much quicker than before and then where will we be?'

The conversation finished as far as he was concerned, the mineworker lent back in to his seat.  Jane leaned into George.

'We need to get back to Jayanti.  I think we have discovered more than any of us expected and we need to analyse what it all means.'

'You know, I have a very uneasy feeling about all this.  The Sunarr seem to be holding all the cards and we are betting blind.  Moreover, I don't think both sides are playing by the same rules.  The real problem is that we don’t know why they want all this gold.  In addition, we don't know how or what they think.  I mean what motivates them?'  George couldn't help but let his frustration show.

'A sense of wanting to help mankind.'  Jane said.

'Very funny.' 

Their bus pulled off, this time leading the procession and providing them a good view.  It pulled round in a slow arc to face the way it had come in, giving out a metallic scream as the driver struggled with the ageing and badly maintained gearbox.  He found the gear and the bus lurched forward, jolting the passengers.  It crept its way towards the interior of the dome.  They could not see the exit; George held his camera up discretely so he could take a few shots as they left.  However, the bus shuddered to a halt about a hundred meters from the dome's interior wall.  A group of Sunarr guards stood either side of the buses whilst mine security guards clambered aboard to check that all was in order.  Jane and George sat there, like rabbits stuck in headlights, afraid to move but every fibre of their being screamed
run
. 
Run
.  Their driver spoke to the lead security guard and flicked his head in their direction as he talked.  Time stood still.  The guard looked at his manifest, then up at the two of them, then down again at his clipboard.  He made a mark on the paper with his pen, grunted something at the driver, and waved his colleague off the bus, following behind.  Two sets of lungs exhaled softly together but with their hearts pumping frenetically. 

The bus pulled forward, continuing its outward journey.  A gap appeared in the bottom of the dome's wall, visible only in contrast with the rest of the dome surrounding it.  It grew, increasing at a steady pace.  This was the exit.  The wall of the dome itself was simply disappearing before their eyes.  George held his camera up, covering it with his jacket to get a few shots.  He couldn't risk raising it to his eye so he had to shoot blind, trusting his experience to do the job well.