an upfold in the earth's crust.' He placed his hands together as if in prayer, then pushed one of them toward the ceiling. 'It splits the rock above it, creating a huge web of fractures and usually a vertical crack—a pipe—that goes deep into the earth, sometimes several thousand feet. Those P-waves, that vibration earlier . . . something was obviously happening in the dome, causing a resonance. It must be part of the same substructure that created the natural tunnels Macallan—'
Bonterre jumped suddenly as the Radmeter in her hands chirped. As she stared, the blue shimmer on the screen turned yellow.
'Let me see that.' Rankin punched in a series of commands, his large fingers dwarfing the keypad. The top half of the small screen cleared, then a message appeared, stark black letters against the screen:
Dangerous radiation levels detected
Specify desired measurement
(ionizations / joules / rads)
and rate
(seconds / minutes / hours)
Rankin hit a few more keys.
240.8 Rads/hour
Fast neutron flux detected
General radiation contamination possible
Recommendation: Immediate evacuation
As they watched, the message changed:
33.144 Rads/hour
Background levels hazardous
Recommendation: Standard containment procedures
'What happened?' Rankin asked.
'I do not know. Maybe he closed it again.'
'Let's see if I can get a radiation signature on the source.' The geologist began typing again. Then he straightened up, still staring at the little screen.
'Oh, Christ,' he muttered. 'You won't believe this.'
He was interrupted by a thump on the observation deck. The door flew open and Streeter stepped in.
'Hey, Lyle!' Rankin said before seeing the handgun.
Streeter looked from Rankin to Bonterre, then back again. 'Come on,' he said, motioning the gun toward the door.
'Come on where?' Rankin began. 'What's with the gun?'
'We're taking a little trip, just the three of us,' Streeter answered. He nodded in the direction of the observation porthole.
Bonterre slipped the Radmeter beneath her sweater.
'You mean, into the Pit?' Rankin asked incredulously. 'It's dangerous as hell down there! The whole thing's suspended over—'
Streeter placed the gun against the back of Rankin's right hand and fired.
The sound of the explosion was shockingly loud in the confined space of Orthanc. Instinctively, Bonterre looked away for a moment. Turning back, she saw Rankin on his knees, clutching his right hand. Thin streams of blood trickled between his fingers and pattered to the metal floor.
'That leaves you one hand to hold on with,' Streeter says. 'If you want to keep it, shut your hairy fucking mouth.'
Once again he motioned them toward the door and the observation platform beyond. With a gasp of pain, Rankin hauled himself to his feet, looked from Streeter to the gun, then moved slowly to the door.
'Now you,' Streeter said, nodding at Bonterre. Slowly, making sure the Radmeter was secure beneath her sweaters, she stood up and began to follow Rankin.
'Be very careful,' Streeter said, cradling the gun. 'It's a long way down.'
Chapter 56
Hatch leaned against the wall of the chamber, his fear and his hope both spent, his throat raw from shouting. The memory of what had happened in this very tunnel, lost for so long, was now his again, but he was too exhausted even to examine the missing pieces. The air was a suffocating, foul-smelling blanket, and he shook his head, trying to clear the faint but insistent sound of his brother's voice: 'Where are you? Where are you?'
He groaned and sank to his knees, dragging his cheek along the rough stone, trying to bring some clarity to his mind. The voice persisted.
Hatch drew his face away from the wall, listening now.
The voice came again.
'Hello?' he called back tentatively.
'Where are you?' came the muffled cry.
Hatch turned, felt the walls, trying to orient himself. The sound seemed to be coming from behind the stone that pressed his brother's bones into the stone floor.
