Free Pickers 3: The Valley by Garth Owen Page A

and welded to a framework. In years past, those structures had blocked the width and height of the tunnel, and been loaded with booby traps against any incursion. The new frames could still be tumbled or moved for defence, but it was a sign that the Valley had opened up that there was a route around them. Was this all her uncle Julien's doing, Veronique wondered. One of the pickups stayed behind after the last of the barricades, no doubt to reset defences.
    There was enough light now to see the rectangular panelling on the walls, or, more often, the beams that had held it in place. The lights that had been embedded in the ceiling were long gone, along with their cabling, taken to be reused down in the town. Veronique squinted as the sunlight grew brighter.
    Wagon two exited the tunnel and followed the road as it almost immediately turned right. Veronique blinked in the sunshine, not yet able to see her old home for the moisture in her eyes. The distance between their seats was too great for Tony to reach across and offer a comforting hand, but he looked over and offered a supportive smile as she wiped her eyes.
    They were going slowly. Even heading downhill, the battered old truck couldn't manage much speed. So they both had time to look around. To their right, as they headed up the valley, the hillside was steep, but not all cliff and rocks. Large patches of deep green were dotted with bright flowers of all hues, and goats of brown and mucky white. Below, and to their left, a crystal clear river flowed over pale grey rocks, occasionally interrupted by man made obstacles to create pools to supply the irrigation. Further down, the Valley was almost completely blocked by a man-made lake.
    The sun was low, and the pattern of the waves in the river reflected up and into the cab. On the other side of the river, carefully tended fields were rich with crops. The slopes on the far side of the valley were also marked by meadows for sheep, goats, and the occasional cow. There were windmills, of various shapes, on some of the ridge lines where rock protruded from the grass land.
    "It's so green." Tony said. He had seen plenty of farm land flush green, and then, often, gold, over the years, and patches of meadow around springs. But never before had he witnessed somewhere where every patch that wasn't rock was growing something. "This is incredible."
    Veronique tried to remember what she had been taught, all those years ago, about how the Valley was farmed. "The valley is naturally cooler than an open plain. And all those dams hold back the water and let more of the land get it. It's a lot more complicated than that, of course, but that's the basics of it."
    Tony had heard Veronique speak of how lush the Valley was, and how much grew there. But it was obvious that he hadn't completely believed her until now. "Don't run into Papa and Max, now. They'll never let you forget it." she said, teasing him to distract herself from the emotions the view of home brought on.
    They had drawn close to wagon one as Tony looked around, but were going so slowly it hardly took anything to stop them. Veronique looked down at the child again. He would have years to learn the beauties of this place, she would resist the temptation to wake him.
    They trundled down a well kept road, under avalanche roofs and past outlying buildings, until Veronique knew the town was just over the next rise. All the years, and the geography of the valley was still clear to her.
    They crested the hill, and were on a level with the town, passing the battered name sign. It still called itself Nix, not going back to its old name for long forgotten reasons. The taller buildings of the centre poked over the clutter of roofs, but the overall layout wasn't revealed to them. They could travel up the valley and look down on the town some day, but for now, they would be introduced to it street by street.
    The first houses they encountered were newer, simple constructions built for