Inverted World by Christopher Priest Read Free Book Online Page B

Malchuskin had gone off by himself, returning half an hour later in a battery-powered truck. We took a short break and ate a meal, then loaded the truck with as much of the material as it would hold and set off towards the ridge, Malchuskin driving. Rafael and a few of the workers clung to the sides of the truck.
    It was some way to the ridge. Malchuskin steered a course that brought us diagonally towards the nearest part of the track, and we drove the rest of the way towards the ridge alongside it. There was a shallow dip in the breast of the ridge, and it was through this that the four pairs of rails had been laid. There were many men working on this part of the track: some hacking manually at the ground to each side of the track—presumably to widen it sufficiently to take the bulk of the city as it passed through—and others toiled with mechanical drills, trying to erect five metal frames, each bearing a large wheel. Only one had been so far securely laid, and it stood between the two inner tracks, a gaunt, geometrical design with no apparent function.
    As we passed through the dip Malchuskin slowed the truck, looking with interest at how the work was proceeding. He waved to one of the guildsmen supervising the work, then accelerated again as we passed over the summit of the ridge. From here there was a shallow downhill slope towards a broad plain.
    To east and west, and on the far side of the plain, I could see hills which were much higher.
    To my surprise the tracks ended only a short distance beyond the ridge.
    The left outer track had been built for about a mile, but the other three were barely a hundred yards long. There were two teams already at work on these tracks, but it was immediately clear that progress was slow.
    Malchuskin stared round. On our side of the tracks—that is, on the western side—there was a small cluster of huts, presumably the living quarters for the track-teams already here. He headed the truck in that direction, but drove some way past before stopping.
    “This’ll do,” he said. “We want the buildings up by nightfall.”
    I said: “Why don’t we put them up by the others?”
    “It’s my policy not to. I have trouble enough with these men as it is.
    If they have too much contact with the others they drink more and work less.
    We can’t stop them mixing together when they’re not working, but there’s no point in clustering them together.”
    “But surely they have a right to do what they want?”
    “They’re being bought for their labour. That’s all.”
    He clambered down from the cabin of the truck, and began to shout at Rafael to start the work on the huts.
    The truck was soon unloaded, and leaving me in charge of the re-building, Malchuskin drove the truck back over the ridge to collect the rest of the men and the materials.
    As nightfall approached, the re-building was nearly completed. My last task of the day was to return the truck to the city and connect it to one of the battery-recharging points. I drove off, content to be alone again for a while.
    As I drove over the ridge, the work on the raised wheels had finished for the day and the site was abandoned but for two militiamen standing guard, their crossbows slung over their shoulders. They paid no attention to me.
    Leaving them behind, I drove down the other side towards the city. I was surprised to see how few lights were showing and how, with the approach of night, the daytime activities ceased.
    Where Malchuskin had told me I would find recharging points I discovered that other vehicles were already connected up, and no other places were available. I guessed that this was the last truck to be returned that evening, and that I would have to look around for more points. In the end, I found a spare point on the south side of the city.
    It was now dark, and after I had attended to the truck I was faced with the long walk back alone. I was tempted not to return, but to stay the night inside the city. After all, it