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dimming the floodlamps to a faint glimmer.

"Not safe." He pulled her away from the opening. "The whole thing might

cave in." His voice was rough, his throat closing with the dust.

He dragged her to the head of the steps and they staggered down

together, stumbling against each other, their feet sliding under them as

they came on to the algae.

slippery footing. Through the dust mist ahead of them loomed the broad

square figure of Sapper.

"What the ruddy hell is going on?" he bellowed with relief as he saw

them.

"Give me a hand here," Nicholas yelled back at him.

Sapper lifted Royan in his arms and together they ran back -down the

tunnel, only stopping to draw breath when they reached the causeway over

the sink-hole.

unburrit and glared like a mirror in the high mountain sunlight. The

public telephone should have been in its booth outside the front door.

However, the instrument had long since vanished - stolen, vandalized or,

more likely, removed by the military to prevent it being used by

Political dissidents and rebels.

Tessay had expected this, and hardly glanced into the booth before she

strode into the small room which was the main post office. It was filled

with a motley crowd of peasants and villagers, queuing to conduct their

leisurely business with the elderly postmaster, the only person behind

the barred counter. Some of the customers had spread their cloaks on the

floor and settled in for a long he post office in the village of Debra

Maryarri a small building in the dusty street behind was the church. Its

walls were of unplastered unpainted brick, and its galvanized iron roof

T

wait, chatting and smoking while their children romped and crawled

around them.

Most of the patient crowd recognized Tessay as soon as she entered the

room."Even those who had waited most of the morning in the lines at the

counter greeted her respectfully and stood aside to allow her to go to

the, head of the queue. Despite two decades of African socialism, the

feudal instincts of the rural population were still strong.

Tessay was a noblewoman and she was entitled to this preference.

"Thank you, my friends." She smiled at them and shook her head. "You are

kind, but I will wait my turn."

They were embarrassed by her refusal, and when the old postmaster leaned

over his counter top and added his insistence to the others, one of the

older women seized Tessay's arm and forcefully propelled her forward.

"Jesus and all the saints bless you, Woizero Tessay." The postmaster

clapped his hands in respectful greeting.

"Welcome back to Debra Maryam. What is it that your ladyship desires?"

The entire clientele of the post office crowded around Tessay so as not

to miss a detail of her transaction.

"I want to make a telephone call to Addis," she told the postmaster and

there was a hum of comment and discussion. This was unusual and

important business indeed.

"I will take you to the telephone exchange," the postmaster told her

importantly, and donned his official blue cap for the occasion. He came

around the counter shouting and hectoring the other customers, pushing

them aside to make way for Lady Sun. Then "he ushered her through to the

back room of the building, where the telephone exchange occupied a

cubicle the size of a small lavatory.

Tessay, the postmaster and as many of the other customers who could find

standing room pushed their way into the tiny room. The exchange operator

was almost overcome by the honour being accorded him by the beautiful

Tessay, and he shouted into his headset like a sergeant major commanding

a flag party.

"Soon now!" he-beamed at Tessay. "Only small delay.

Then you speak to British Embassy in Addis."

Tessay, who knew well what a small delay constituted, retired to the

front veranda of the post office and sent for food and flasks to be

brought from the village tej shop. She treated her escort of monks,

together with half the population of Debra Maryam, to a happy picnic

while she waited for her call to be patched through half a dozen

antiquated village exchanges to the capital. Thanks to the tei, spirits

were high amongst her entourage when finally, an hour later, the

postmaster rushed out tell her proudly that they had succeeded and that

her party was awaiting her on the line in the back room.

Tessay, the monks and fifty villagers followed the postmaster back into

the exchange and crowded, jabbering, into the cubicle. The overflow

backed up into the main post hall.

"Geoffrey Tennant speaking." The upper'class English accent was tinny

with distance and static.

"Mr Tennant, this is Woizero Tessay."

"I was expecting your call." Geoffrey's voice lightened as he realized

that he was talking to a pretty girl. "How are you, my dear?"

Tessay passed Nicholas's message to him.

"Tell Nicky it's as good as done," Geoffrey acknowledged, and hung up.

"Now," Tessay addressed the postmaster, want to place another call to

Addis - to the Egyptian Embassy." There was a buzz of delight from her

audience when they realized that the entertainment was not yet over for

the day. Everybody repaired to the veranda for more tej and

conversation.

The second call took even longer to connect, and it was after five

'clock when Tessay was at last put in contact with the Egyptian cultural

attach. Had she not once met him at one of those ubiquitous cocktail

parties on the diplomatic circuit in Addis, and made a profound

impression on him then, he would probably not have accepted her call

now.

"You are very lucky to have reached me so late," he told her. "We

usually close at four-thirty, but there is a meeting of the Organization

of African Unity on at the moment and I am working late. Anyway, how may

I help you, Woizero Tessay?"

As soon as she told him the name and rank of the person in Cairo to whom

Royan's message was addressed, his superior and condescending attitude

altered dramatically and he became effusive and eager to please. He

wrote down everything she said in detail, asking her to repeat and spell

the names of people and places. Finally he read his notes back to her

for confirmation.

At the end of the long conversation, he dropped his voice to an intimate

level and told her. "I was greatly saddened to hear of your recent

bereavement, Lady Sun.

Colonel Brusilov was a man I held in high regard. Perhaps when you

return to Addis you would do me the honour of dining with me one

evening."

"How kind and thoughtful of you." Tessay's tones were honeyed. "I would

so much enjoy meeting your charming wife again." She hung up while he

was still making confused  noises of assent and denial.

By this time the sun was already setting behind the sky castles of

cumulonimbus, and there was the smell of rain in the air. It was too

late to start the journey back down the escarpment that evening, so

Tessay was relieved when the headman of Debra Maryam village sent one of

his teenage daughters to invite her to spend the night as a guest in his

home.

The headman's house was the finest in the village, not one of the