Clay looked up.
'I got the sword,' he said in a faraway voice. 'I threw it into the Pit.'
'And Neidelman?'
'He ... he decided to go after it.'
There was a silence.
'You saved our lives,' Hatch said. 'My God, you—' He paused and took a breath. 'We'll get you to a hospital —'
Clay waved his hand wearily. 'Doctor, don't. Please dignify my death with the truth.'
Hatch looked at him a moment. 'There's nothing medicine can do except make it less painful.'
'I wish there was some way to repay your sacrifice,' Bonterre said, voice husky.
Clay smiled, a strange smile that seemed partly rueful, partly euphoric. 'I knew exactly what I was doing. It wasn't a sacrifice. It was a gift.'
He looked at Hatch. 'I have one favor to ask you. Can you get me to the mainland in time? I'd like to say good-bye to Claire.'
Hatch turned his face away. 'I'll do my best,' he murmured.
It was time to go. They left the tunnel and crossed the shaking metal catwalk to the array. Hatch heaved Bonterre onto the ladder and waited as she began climbing into the darkness. As he looked up, lightning blazed across the sky and illuminated Orthanc, a dim specter far above, almost lost among the tracery of supports and beams. Curtains of rain, metal, and soil washed down, ricocheting through the complex matrix of the array.
'Now you!' Hatch shouted to Clay.
The minister handed him the flashlight, then turned wearily to the ladder and began to climb. Hatch watched him for a moment. Then, taking a careful grip, he leaned out over the edge of the platform and shone the flashlight down into the Pit.
He stared after the beam, almost dreading what he might see. But the sword—and Neidelman—were gone. Hatch could see a roiling cloud of mist cloaking the roaring gulf far beneath.
There was another sickening lurch, and he turned back to the array and began to climb. All too soon he caught up with Clay; the minister was clutching a titanium rung, gasping for breath. Another great wave shook the ladder, shivering the remaining struts and filling the Pit with the protest of deforming metal.
'I can't go any farther,' Clay gasped. 'You go on ahead.'
'Take the light!' Hatch shouted. 'Then wrap an arm around my neck.'
Clay began to shake his head in protest.
'Do it!'
Hatch started upward again, hauling the minister up each rung. In the gleam of the flashlight he could see Bonterre above them, concern visible on her face as she looked down.
'Go, go!' he urged, willing himself upward, one rung at a time. He gained the fifty-foot platform and continued, not daring to stop for a rest. Above, he could now make out the mouth of the Water Pit, dark black against the gray of the stormy sky. His muscles screamed as he forced himself upward, lifting Clay with each step.
Then the array gave another great lurch, and a blast of wet air and spray burst up from below. With a high- pitched tearing sound, a huge piece of the array came loose below them. Knocked against the metal railing, Hatch could see the cribbing on either side of the shaft begin to split and unravel. Beside him, Clay gasped, fighting to hold on.
Hatch scrambled upward again, fear and adrenaline sending new strength coursing through him. Directly above now, Bonterre was clambering up the array, her sides heaving. He followed, hoisting Clay along, sucking air into his lungs as fast as he could.
The rungs of the ladder grew slicker. Here, nearer the surface, the roar and shriek of the collapsing Pit mingled with the howl of the storm. Rain began to lash his face, warm after the foul chill of the tunnel. There was a violent tremor from deep within the Pit, and the array gave an almost human shriek as countless supports gave way. Torn from its anchors, the ladder swung violently from side to side, slashing through a forest of twisted metal.
'Go!' Hatch roared, pushing Bonterre in front of him. As he turned to follow he saw, with horror, the bolts along the central spine of the ladder begin to burst, unzipping like a jacket. Another massive tremor and the anchor supports of Orthanc began to buckle above their heads. There was a loud popping sound and one of the great observation windows dissolved into shards, raining down into the Pit.
'Look out!' Hatch cried, closing his eyes as the rain of glass and debris came crashing past. He felt the world begin to tilt and he opened them again to see the ladder array folding in on itself. With a lurch that brought his gut into his throat, the entire structure dropped several feet, accompanied by a chorus of twisting and snapping. Clay almost broke free, his legs swinging over the void.
'Onto the cribbing!' Hatch cried. He inched across a pair of struts, still supporting Clay. Bonterre followed. Grabbing Clay around the middle, Hatch hoisted him onto a titanium anchor bolt, then onto the old wooden cribwork that braced the sides of the Pit.
'Can you make it?' he asked.
Clay nodded.
Hatch clambered up below the minister, searching for handholds along the slimy, rotten face, urging Clay on. A piece of cribbing gave way beneath Hatch's feet, then another, and he scrabbled furiously for a moment before finding another purchase. He reached up, grabbed the bottom of the staging platform, and with Bonterre's help managed to haul the minister onto the platform and then to the grassy bank beyond.
Hatch clambered to his feet. To the south, he could see the dim shape of the rising tide pouring through a gap in the cofferdam. Bloated rainclouds scudded across the shrouded moon. All around the reefs the sea had been
