Part 24 (1/2)

”You wouldn't see anything,” he said.

”You wouldn't feel anything. You'd be obliterated, just like that.” He snapped his fingers and suddenly, as if he'd conjured up a genie, we became aware of a noise.

”What the.. . ?” Pay was crouching beside me on our ramp of spoil. He raised a hand.

”Listen!”

At first we could feel it rather than hear it: a deep vibration more than a sound, a shudder so low that it seemed to come through our boots. But in seconds it built into an audible flutter, then into a rumble, then into a roar which filled the tunnel and made it shake. The water behind us had long since settled back into stillness after our pa.s.sage through it. Now I saw a ripple on the black surface, and I was convinced that the roof was about to cave in.

I looked round at the concrete blocks behind us. We were trapped between the wall and the water in a section of tunnel about fifteen yards long.

The pulsating roar built up still louder until it seemed to come from right over our heads. Particles of brick dust started to fall from the roof. I looked up at the brickwork right above us, fearful that I'd see water break through the joins, expecting to be swamped any minute. I made a grab for my mask and breathing kit.

Into the din Pay yelled, ”f.u.c.king Metro!”

”b.o.l.l.o.c.ks!” I shouted.

”No Metro line anywhere near. I checked it on the street plan.”

”Gotta be a boat, then.”

”A boat?”

”On the river.”

”Some boat.”

We were bellowing at the tops of our voices. Toad stood there looking vacant, but I think he was just as scared as we were. Then I realised that the racket was diminis.h.i.+ng, and I felt sure Pay was right: a boat had gone up or down the river, close over our heads.

After that scare, it took Toad only a few more minutes to complete his preparations.

”OK,” he announced, 'we're ready to go.

Anywhere else, the idea of taking orders from Toad would have made me see red, but here we were entirely in his hands and it didn't bug me at all to follow his instructions. With him directing and helping, we raised the base section of Apple the heavier of the two and eased it sideways on to the rough shelf we'd created. That was relatively simple. The harder part was to lift the top section, turn it over in mid-air, then manoeuvre it into position above its mate without letting the two touch or knock together until they were perfectly aligned. The second part weighed just on 150lbs, and even for two fit guys, holding that amount out at arm's length was no picnic.

Toad had had the simple but brilliant notion of bringing three slender spars of wood, an inch thick, to act as temporary buffers, and he laid these across the top of the base unit so that we could lower the top on to them without letting it touch the metal beneath until we were ready. Then, while Pavarotti and I held up one end of the top component, he withdrew the bars one at a time and we lowered away the last inch. As we stood back, he quickly went to work inserting six stainless-steel bolts one at each corner, one half-way up each long side and carefully screwed them down with a ratchet-handled socket spanner.

Then he plugged one of the two black co-ax cables into the lower half of the package and locked it in position, using an Allen key to turn the sunken nut.

As he took hold of the second wire, I said, ”Listen, Toad. Are you quite certain this f.u.c.king thing isn't going to go?”

”Don't worry,” he replied, not even looking up.

”My instinct for self-preservation's as good as yours.

In went the end of the wire. Again he tightened a nut down.

”OK to cover up?” I asked.

”Hold on. I need to check.”

Once more he put on his headphones, lifted a small flap at the bottom corner of the device and plugged in the lead from a control box slung across his stomach. For a minute or two Pay and I waited, running with sweat, itching with the grit that had worked its way down the necks of our s.h.i.+rts. My anxiety about possible premature detonation wouldn't die down. I could only hope to h.e.l.l Toad knew what he was doing. Glancing sideways at Pavarotti, I could see him thinking the same.

At last that sly, secret smile stole back on to Toad's face.

”What's happening?”

”I can hear it.”

”What?”

”It's talking to us.”

”What is, for f.u.c.k's sake?”

”The satellite.”

”Jesus! What's it saying?”

”I don't know. I just recognise the signal they gave me.

Listen.”

He pulled off the headphones and handed them to me. All I got was a distant chirruping and beeping that rose and fell.

”How far up is the satellite?”

”Twenty-two thousand five hundred miles.”

I handed the set back and said, ”OK to cover up, then?”

Toad nodded and began to pack up his tools.

I'd decided in advance that we weren't going to ponce about mortaring over cracks in the brickwork. The chances of somebody else reaching the site were remote and anyway, new mortar wouldn't pa.s.s a close inspection. Now that Apple was live, I wanted to get the h.e.l.l out of the tunnel as soon as possible.

So we simply covered the casing with a loose mound of bricks and spoil, as though the heap had fallen from the roof, and pushed some lumps into the conduit that we'd cut for the connection, to hold the cables in the duct. Then we collected up our kit and prepared to withdraw.

”Toad,” I said, 'what happens if the water level comes right up and the thing gets flooded?”

”It shouldn't make any difference. Now the units are sealed together they're waterproof There'd be problems if the level got as high as the SCR, but I don't reckon that's possible.”

There was one last precaution I'd decided was worthwhile.

Back at the edge of the water, we used one of the empty rubber bags as a water carrier, filled it, and dragged it to the base of the blocking wall. There we tipped the lot out at once, retreating backwards before a little tide that pursued us down the tunnel.

By doing that four times, we washed away every sign of disturbance and left the silt on the floor in a smooth, unbroken carpet.

Then we waded away through the flood.