Riptide

'According to Roger, the Water Pit was built above a formation called a piercement dome,' Bonterre shouted. 'A natural void that goes deep into the earth. Macallan planned to snare Ockham with it.'

'And we thought bracing the Pit would take care of everything.' Hatch shook his head. 'Macallan. He always was one step ahead of us.'

'These struts of titanium are holding the Pit together—temporarily. Otherwise, the whole thing would have collapsed by now.'

'And Neidelman?'

'Sais pas. He probably fell into the void with the treasure.'

'In that case, let's get the hell out of here.'

He turned toward the mouth of the tunnel just as another violent tremor shook the array. In the moment of silence that followed, a low beeping sounded from beneath Bonterre's sweater. She reached in, drew out the Radmeter, and handed it to Hatch.

'I got this from your office,' she said. 'I had to break a few things to find it.'

The display was dim—the battery was obviously low—but the message displayed across the top of the screen was all too clear:

244.13 Rads/hour

Fast neutron flux detected

General radiation contamination probable

Recommendation: Immediate evacuation

'Maybe it's picking up residual radiation?' Bonterre suggested, peering at the screen.

'The hell it is. Two hundred forty-four rads? Let me see if I can bring the locator up.'

He glanced at Clay, who obliged by turning the flashlight beam toward the machine. Hatch began stabbing at the miniature keyboard. The warning message disappeared, and the three-dimensional coordinate grid once again filled the screen. Standing, Hatch began to move the detector around. A blazing, rainbow-colored spot blossomed in the center of the screen, colors shifting as he turned.

'Oh, my God.' He looked up from the screen. 'Neidelman's not dead. He's on the ladder now, below us. And he's got the sword.'

'What?' Bonterre breathed.

'Look at these readings.' Hatch turned the Radmeter toward her. A ragged patch of white showed on its display, oscillating wildly. 'Christ, he must be getting a massive dose from the sword.'

'How much of a dose?' Clay asked, his voice strained.

'What I want to know is, how much of a dose are we getting?' Bonterre asked.

'We're not in immediate danger. Yet. There's a lot of intervening ground. But radiation poisoning is cumulative. The longer we stay, the bigger the dose.'

Suddenly, the earth shook like a possessed thing. A few feet down the tunnel, a massive beam gave way with a loud crack. Dirt and pebbles rained around them.

'What are we waiting for?' Bonterre hissed, turning toward the depths of the tunnel. 'Let's go!'

'Wait!' Hatch cried, the Radmeter buzzing in his hands.

'We cannot wait!' Bonterre said. 'Can this tunnel lead us out?'

'No. The base of the well was sealed off when the reverend reset the trap.'

'So let's climb out the Pit! We cannot stay here.' She began walking toward the array.

Hatch pulled Bonterre roughly back into the tunnel.

'We can't go out there,' he hissed.

'Why not?'

Clay was now at their side, looking intently at the screen. Hatch glanced at him, briefly surprised at the look of suppressed excitement, almost triumph, on the minister's face.

'According to this,' Hatch said slowly, 'that sword is so radioactive that even one second's exposure to it gives a lethal dose. Neidelman's out there now, and he's climbing toward us. If we so much as peek out into the main shaft, we're toast.'

'Then why is he not dead?'

'He is dead. Even the most massive doses of radiation take time to kill. He was dead the moment he laid eyes on that sword. And we're dead, too, if we get within a sight line of it. Neutron radiation propagates through the air like light. It's vital that we keep rock and earth between him and us.'

He stared at the Radmeter. 'He's maybe fifty feet below now, maybe less. Go back down this tunnel as far as you dare. With luck, he'll climb right past us.'

Over the uprushing of sound, Hatch heard an indistinct shout.

Gesturing for the others to stay back, he crept forward, halting just before the mouth of the shaft. Beyond, the web of titanium struts shivered and swayed. A low-battery alarm began sounding on the Radmeter, and he looked down to check the display:

3217.89 Rads/hour

Fast neutron flux detected

IMMEDIATE EVACUATION CRITICAL

Christ, he thought,