Extreme Difference by D. B. Reynolds-Moreton Read Free Book Online

who look as if you’ve just been created, but Mop is a right smelly heap.’
    ‘That’s another thing, why is everyone so unkempt? The only way you can tell the women from the men is that they don’t have beards, and as for their hair, that can’t have been washed or cut since they arrived here.’
    ‘Lack of water mainly, I would think, plus the fact that it’s a damn hard struggle just to survive here. Anyway, you get used to it after a while. You look so totally different, you could have come from another world with your short hair and smart clothes.’
    ‘I’m beginning to think you might have got something there. I certainly don’t feel part of this bunch, no offence meant. As for my clothes, I consider them to be rags, the remains of a uniform I used to wear. Good God, why did I say that?’ Sandy exclaimed, ‘the word uniform seemed the right thing to say, but I can’t get a picture of it in my mind.’
    ‘No good asking me,’ Ben replied, ‘I’ve long since given up any attempt to try and explain things. I just accept ’em for what they are, and try to make the best of it.’
    ‘That’s why you lot are in such a bloody awful mess, you don’t try to make things any better. There’re many things which could be done to improve your lot here.’
    ‘Such as what?’ Ben replied, sounding hurt.
    ‘The water supply, for a start. Now you can all wash, you can drink as much as you like, and if everyone gets a hair cut, we can make a couple of hundred metres of rope.’
    What do we need rope for?’ asked Ben, completely missing the point. Sandy did not even bother to reply.
    When the suggestion about the gas supply was put to Nan, he seemed surprised that anyone would want to do such a thing, until Sandy explained at great length that it would prove the point that things were not quite as they seemed, and therefore if they understood what was really going on, they may be able to better their lot.
    Nan’s permission was eventually given, with the proviso that Jez was ‘otherwise occupied’ at the time, the less people who knew what was afoot, the better, for now.
    Mop had been right, the greasy stew she provided for the evening meal was almost palatable, and Sandy tucked in with a degree of relish which surprised him. He put it down to the fact that he was almost starving, rather than Mop’s culinary abilities, which was perhaps a little unkind, as she had very limited resources to hand.
    To say they all engaged in convivial conversation after the meal would be stretching the point to its limits, a series of muted monosyllabic grunts with their equally short replies dribbled on for a while, and then, one by one, they drifted off to their sleeping quarters, as there was little else to do.
    Holding his breath, Sandy tucked himself into his pile of smelly rags and tried to get comfortable, cursing the day some fatherless person had dispatched him to this hell hole.
    He felt sure that was what had happened. Nothing else made any sense, and as for the ‘created’ theory, he had rejected that out of hand almost immediately.
    He was just drifting off into sleep, listening to the protesting gurgles from his tortured stomach, when a shuffling sound snapped him wide awake again. The cave light had been turned down to its lowest level, so all he could see was a shadowy hulk advancing towards him. His heart raced, and he wondered what best to do, leap up and attack, or feign dead to see what would happen next.
    ‘It’s only me,’ the now soft dulcet tones of a predatory Mop announced silkily, ‘I’ve brought you some more of those delicious berries you like so much.’
    The hulk lowered itself down onto his pile of rags with a wheeze, pinning one arm firmly to the ground, and making it difficult for him to sit upright in the gloom, which he thought was the most effective defensive position he could take up under the circumstances.
    ‘I’m only half awake, and full to the brim with your delicious stew,’