The Tunnels Below by Nadine Wild-Palmer (best short novels of all time .TXT) 📕

the Ride or Sigh competition and the pom-pom parade behind them. As they did so a giant bright orb of light came into view.

“What is it, Luke?”

“That is Polaris. The great light,” he said.

“It looks like a light bulb, but a really, really big one,” Cecilia said, shielding her eyes.

Polaris shone before them like a lonely moon. It was about the size and shape of a hot-air balloon. It had tiny markings etched into it and Cecilia got the feeling it was very old. It looked familiar.

“What sort of energy does Polaris run on?”

“It’s connected to the main generator. Sometimes it gets turned off for a bit, you know, to give the generator a rest, to repair faults in the lines. The great thing is the dwellers get a rest too. Everything shuts down for a little while.”

Cecilia imagined it was a bit like a bank holiday.

“Why do they need to turn the generator off? Does it overheat or something?”

“Guess it’s something like that. Among the dwellers the generator is known as Mr Sparks. Word has it that the generator isn’t a generator at all, that it’s a… living thing that lights up the entire network of tunnels!”

“That would be a tough job,” said Cecilia.

They stood looking at the big light bulb that lit the gaping hollow they were standing in. The air was dry and stuffy, unlike the coolness of the Concave Stadium on the lime line. She imagined the stories of the Arabian Nights that she had read with her granny and grandpa and felt for a moment that she was in one of those tales. All around the hollow where they stood the small arch-shaped windows reminded her of beehives. The walls in this part of the tunnels were sandy and dry and looked as though the grains might come off if you rubbed them. Cecilia pondered the sandy floor and thought of the sea. Then, just like that, out of nowhere Cecilia whispered a kind of confession. “I’m really lost, Luke. Like, really lost.”

“Maybe you are, Cecilia. I know you think you belong somewhere else but you don’t—because if you think about it, you will always be in the right place if you just let yourself be where you are now. You are your home, that’s the way I see it. But don’t worry. You’ll find your way, Cecilia. Promise.”

Luke held out his hairy pinky finger and Cecilia held out hers and they shook them just the way she would with her friends back home.

“So chin up, girl. It could be worse. After all, we are off to get all snazzed up at Mrs Hoots’ and just wait until you meet her!” Luke patted Cecilia on the shoulder. He could see she was sad but he could only offer his words as a comfort the way an older brother might.

Cecilia’s gaze fell upon people basking under the great light bulb of Polaris hanging over the dwellers below. It was much like the scene you might see on a sunny day in a park above ground. Except there were no trees or grass, no ponds or… Actually, it’s nothing like home, she thought.

“It feels warm,” said Cecilia.

“That’s exactly what it’s doing, dude—keeping us warm and sharing its light. We should come back here when we’ve finished our mission. And just, well, hang out,” Luke said softly.

“Deal,” agreed Cecilia.

She followed him down a slope and picked up on a musty smell and dampness in the air. When they got to the bottom Cecilia realised that what she had perceived as being like a park was actually more like a beach. It was warm standing in the faint light of Polaris and the soil was quite granular, a brown sandy substance. At first there was no sea to speak of, but as they kept walking Cecilia could hear water and see it glistening in the distance.

“Is that a…”

“Lake? Yeah, people say it’s drying up and they’re getting in a real flap about it. Jacques d’Or insists that everyone attend a regular purging where we all have to cry on demand.”

“Oh, that’s what you were talking about earlier when you and Jasper stopped me crying.”

“Yeah, no one cries because they feel like it any more. It’s a waste of tears.”

“It’s beautiful,” said Cecilia. She felt sad looking into the glittering water. It looked as though it were made of microscopic stars.

“It might be nice to look at but it causes a lot of pain. To be honest, I hate it. It’s the worst. So embarrassing. Of course, the Corvus Community don’t have to cry on demand; they just stand around bullying everyone else and making us feel even worse than we already do. I’ve managed to avoid a few times now though.”

“It doesn’t sound like much fun. Why can’t the Corvus Community just let people cry when they want to? Anyway, surely there must be another way to fill the lake?” said Cecilia.

“Jacques d’Or and the Corvus Community believe the best way is to make people really sad, so they’ll cry more often. It’s beyond me, really. I hate it and sometimes it just makes me angry, then I can’t cry at all. But I’m sure if there were an easier way, we’d know about it,” he said solemnly.

“But I don’t get it. Why do you need to fill the lake at all?” Cecilia spoke tentatively now.

“Well, it’s something to do with having enough tears to keep the lights that line the tunnels going. It’s all connected to the generator. I don’t know, water, salt, a combination of the two is what’s needed to keep it going,” replied Luke.

“Mr Sparks?”

“That’s the one. Well, all I know is it’s something to do with how Mr Sparks and the way the light we live by is produced. We have to cry to keep us going and sadly…” He chuckled to himself. “It’s just one of those things that you have to do whether you like it or not. Otherwise the normal things