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By Root 293 0

had not been made. He said: 'We can't afford new roads. We asked the other nations associated with us in the undertaking to contribute, but they refused.' Frowning, he gave me a sidelong glance to see where my sympathies lay. I said in a non-commital tone that this seemed unfair. 'Just because we're a small, impoverished country, they've treated us badly all along the line.' He could not suppress his resentment. 'The transmitter could never have been built here at all if we hadn't donated the site. They should remember that we made the whole thing possible. We sacrifice a piece of our land for the general good, but get nothing in return. They won't even send ground troops to help to protect the position. It's their unsympathetic attitude that creates bad feeling.' He spoke bitterly. I could feel his grudge against the big powers. 'You're a stranger ... I shouldn't be saying such things to you.' He looked at me with anxiety: I assured him I was not an informer.

Now that he had begun, he wanted to go on talking. I encouraged him to tell me about himself; it was the way to get him to speak of the things I was interested in. When the project first started, he had driven parties of workers along this road; they used to sing on the way. 'You remember the old formula—"all men of goodwill to unite in the task of world recovery and against the forces of destruction." They made the words into a sort of part song, men and women singing them together. It was inspiring to listen. We were all full of enthusiasm in those days. Now everything's different.' I asked what had gone wrong. 'Too many setbacks, delays, disappointments. The work would have been finished long ago if we'd had the materials. But everything had to come from abroad; from countries with different standards of measurement. Sometimes parts did not fit together; whole consignments had to go back. You can imagine the effect of such incidents on young enthusiasts, eager to get the job done.' It was the usual story of mistakes and muddles due to different ideologies, lack of direct contact. I thanked him for speaking frankly about these matters. A ball neatly volleyed, back bounced the cliché: 'Contact between individuals is the first step towards a better understanding between peoples.'

I seemed to have won his confidence. He became quite friendly, told me about his girl, showed snapshots of her playing with a dog. I considered it unwise to let people know that I carried a sum of money, so drew his attention to something at the roadside while I quickly took out of my wallet the photograph I still kept there of the girl standing beside a lake. I showed it to him, saying that she had disappeared and that I was looking for her. Without any special feeling, he commented: 'Wonderful hair. You're in luck.' I asked rather sharply whether he would think himself lucky if his girl had vanished off the face of the earth, and he had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. I put the photo away, asked if he'd ever seen hair like that. 'No, never.' He shook his head emphatically. 'Most of our women are dark.' It was no use talking to him about her.

We changed places. I was tired after my stint of driving and shut my eyes. When I opened them again he had a gun lying across his knees. I asked what he expected to shoot. 'We're getting near the frontier. It's dangerous here. Enemies everywhere.' 'But this country is neutral.' 'What's neutral? It's just a word.' He added mysteriously: 'Besides, there are various kinds of enemies.' 'Such as?' 'Saboteurs. Spies. Gangsters. All sorts of scoundrels who flourish in times of disorder.' I asked if he thought the lorry would be attacked. 'It has happened. The stuff we've got on board is urgently needed. If they've got to hear about it they may try to stop us.'

I brought out my automatic, saw him glancing at it with interest, evidently impressed by the foreign weapon. We had just entered the forest. He seemed nervous. 'This is where the danger begins.' The tall trees had long grey beards of moss hanging down from their branches, forming opaque screens.