Day Eight Hundred Sixty #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We did not make any progress towards Damascus today. We encamped on the outskirts of a larger town last night – the capital for this district, as we soon discovered. For we decided to begin the day’s journey by strolling through rather than around it.

The telltale posters of Stan hung everywhere with extra added touches of adornment.

We were no sooner in its central square than we were surrounded by a convergence of celebratory citizens that clogged all the exits.

We were a captive audience.

When the officials spoke we learned that they were collected to celebrate the anniversary of the world government coming to their rescue in the drought.

When it broke up, the day was too far gone.

Day Four Hundred Seventy Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Patrol boats have stopped us twice and sent us on our way. Both were satisfied with our paper work and seemed even less curious when they learned our port of call was not to be the capital, but a port hundreds of miles from here.

I suppose if we were headed to the capital we would have come under closer scrutiny.
One of the officers was curious about the shortage of people bearing the mark among us. They boasted that this definitely will be the last voyage for the ship under those circumstances. Elijah kept to the special cabin whenever officials were aboard. Each time the Captain was relieved when he did so without being asked.

And so it goes.