"Mine the salt quickly, before we get caught," I say, keeping my voice low.
Their metal picks continue to strike at the outcrop; salt flakes fly away in pinkish hues, as the rest crumbles away into powdered chunks, ready for deposit in their closest basin.
Zerbus, Umer and Tim cross their arms intently, studying each and every aspect of the natural alcove, here, where we've situated ourselves for this operation.
The farmers mine, we supervise.
Should be simple right. Except for us having to constantly cast our glances towards the site above, watching for the slightest signal of movement.
"There." Tim whispers slightly, pointing up to a flashing light of orange.
Guard.
Dropping to the ground like the flies we are, the nearby lamps are covered instantly, leaving only our bodies as evidence of us as the departed dead.
Falling against the stone floor as instructed, I wait. The night persists and the dry cold seeps in through the rock to my bruising bones.
We lie, diligently, like corpses waiting in an empty grave. Only Intruded upon by a restless echo of scampering feet down from the trail above; it finds home with us.
Clamoring around in steps of two, its weightless boots scrape against the sanded rock, passing us by.
Too close.
From above, that same light casts our bodies in green, raising us back from our suspended slumber to return once more to our work.
Brushing off some clumps of powdered dust and breathing in their residue, causes me to bring up my stolen handkerchief to hold it to my nose.
"Father, just how much of this substance do we require." Umer frowns slightly, waiting for his father's reaction.
Looking back, Zerbus scratches at his grey beard.
"We've talked about this son, you needn't be formal with me outside of school where you won't be judged." He lets out a breath.
"Apologies, dad."
"Don't apologise. I'm the one putting ya through it." Zerbus sighs deeper this time, then looks over to me.
"So, how much?"
"Honestly, as much as we can get our hands on. However for today, this much should fit our present needs." I rub my hands together.
"I trust you'll make this worth the effort." Before I can further reassure him, he turns around and points at a nearby barrow before approaching the group. Following from behind, I wheel over the cart.
"Alright seeders, tools down and thumbs up." I hear Zerbus' voice echo on approach.
It takes a second, but only that. Their tools cease and so does the sound, inviting the silence and disturbed air to settle, just like before.
Moments later they shuffle over to me with drooping faces that smile. Dropping their tools into my empty barrow, they grunt as it thuds, landing. This stay is only temporary, in moments passed they turn back to gather once more, holding up their thumbs, patting at each other's backs.
"Great work men. Pat at yer back for a job well done"
Grunting back, I only catch fragments of their grumbled chatter before they organise themselves around the cargo and lift.
"Almost there men, keep plowing." Zerbus' encouraging voice projects once more, as the men haul up the load and growl back with deep voices.
All together: "HEAVE HO, the seed has grown."
"HEAVE HO, the food has grown."
"HEAVE HO, must work the bone."
"HEAVE HO, to feed the sow."
Such unity. I'm in awe. How do they manage it. Shaking my head I wave Tim over and we take turns wheeling the picks from not far behind.
---
"Now rest."
Lowering down their carried cargo all the parties involved take a collective breath, blowing out a fog of condensed air.
Waddling up past me and Tim, a new man both short and slender in stature stands on his toes whispering directly into Zerbus' ear.
"Pop yer squat, for I will be only a moment." Zerbus's soft voice projects well as he folds his arms.
Looking around at all forty of these squatted men, he nods to himself with apparent pride, before looking at me sheepishly then scratches his beard with one finger.
I squat down too, and in return he gives me a slight grin before frowning again.
"As you can see, there is only one pulley available here to carry our salt up. The rope is strong, yes, but not invincible. I estimate only two basins can be lifted per trip, and with a total of ten basins here that's five trips all 'round.
This was the initial plan however, this is where our challenge has just presented itself; our preparations were limited, and our hardships will only grow as a result. The iron used to anchor the axle has been found to have completely rusted. It is brittle in this cold and hollow to the touch, defected beyond repair given our constraints.
Such a poor situation has never dampened our spirits before, and as such I expect nothing less to occur this time again.
A temporary fixture has been welded, but it is makeshift at best. I need ten volunteers to follow our watcher to hold on to the weight above.
Taking some rope, nails and a pick you will climb to the top; rebuckling the cord should it ever fail, all without being seen.
As you can so guess their patrols won't simply stop because it would be convenient, so, you must remain diligent.
On a more positive note, we have a stable ladder here for you to climb up, see." He shakes at a nearby iron rung, it moves slightly.
"With your provided nails you are to hammer into the top rock facing the edge and tie on it your rope. Why, well because if it means not getting caught you must jump over the edge, so as to not be seen.
By no means is this an easy task. As such I delegate it to Desmond here to lead, a newer face in the crew who's eager to prove himself to this task he himself has appointed us."
huh.
"Try your best and don't fail, we're counting on it." He claps his hand together.
huh.
More quiet hands tap against their palms quietly in my direction.
"Now men," he pauses, "who will be the lucky individuals who'll volunteer themselves to go with him..."
Flaring at me from over their squats, forty hairy, bald, tanned and muscular men of all distinct varieties look over with that familiar judging sound.
"No hands, can I see some hands please, yes thank you Dodger."
A large man with a kind face looks over smiling. "No Zerbus, just a question from me."
"Right, what is it."
"Will we get in any trouble if he falls." The large man with an ugly face upon revision, inquires.
". . .No, but you won't get complimented either." Zerbus hazards a shallow response.
"Eh, suppose that's good enough, count me in."
"Me too."
"Over here."
Before long the rest of the men volunteer themselves, beginning to tie a rope around their waists.
I guess I'm climbing now.
Joining them from behind, I begin my arduous climb up the ladder for what feels like a short eternity.
My arms burn, but the worst of it is how one's sight surrenders vision to the shrouding fog surround. It is only returned upon reaching the top, escaping its gloomy haze.
Pulling myself over the crest, a small but spacious recess opens up to reveal the ten men, the watcher, a pulley, two crates of what looks to be material scraps and a flickering light.
I straighten my back, letting my arms hang.
"Is this everything."
"Yeah mate, looks like it."
"Then lets begin."
After planting our nails on the edge of the rockface, and securing our ropes around its divot, I idly watch at the passing clouds of black and grey shifting beneath.
The shackle squeaks, then shakes as the rope is tugged from below.
"Ey boss, sounds like they're ready."
"Then lets live up to all their expectations shall we."
Holding onto the rope, we pull, rolling the sheave as we continue so. Time passes, waiting for the two basins of salt to claw up to us and make for solid ground.
After watching four guys set down the two containers of salt next to us, I frown.
"Um, excuse me asking but I must know. Am I missing something, if the guards can see us from over that ridge and we have to jump over the edge as a result of this risk, then, what about these massive ass crates we'll be bringing up just sitting here, won't they see them suddenly appear and then suspect something's up."
"..."
"..."
"Nothing?" My words fade in the wind.
"It seems we failed to consider the cargo."
"Well (no shit) isn't this just great," A chill bites at the back of my neck, causing me to scratch at it. "We're going to have to improvise now aren't we, any thoughts?"
""Maybe we can knock out the guards before they can see it."
"That's too hasty dodger, what if there's more than one."
"But we can't really hide it, everywhere else has been flattened for future excavation. If and when they pass the ridge down to come here, we're done."
I breathe out, clenching my fist.
"Then it seems we have to settle with the worst option, and also hang it over the edge."
"Will that work?"
"What other choice do we have? If someone finds out, I can assume that would only be worse case for us to also gain the ire of that hag Giana. If we tie it, the rope can hold it up, we just need to hammer something into the rock to hold its weight, all while they aren't near enough to hear."
"What if they come?"
"Well, we're just going to not let that happen aren't we." I breathe on my white fingertips keeping them warm.
"Then, let's head out then."