iron rungs set into the wall must survive. It would be a hell of a climb but it was surely our only chance.
I was yanked back to the present when a tremendous, shattering roar came from the chamber beyond. Charlie, Bowler and I raced out of the hut and looked down. The great brass sphere had come tearing back through the bronze pipe, shredding its end in the process and slamming into the walls of the cavern. Its impact fractured a number of the huge iron pipes and steam began to flood the chamber.
«We did it!» cried Charlie.
«Yes — we’ve brought the bomb back. To us!»
The undertaker looked worried. «The bomb won’t go off now, the steam pressure is still building. The pipes are ruptured.»
«But there’ll be no eruption?»
«Not as Venus planned, no. But the explosion could still damage the magma shell higher up. There’s no time to be lost!»
«First we have to free Mrs Knight and the professors.»
«What?» wailed Bowler. «To hell with them! We have to get out!»
I trained the rifle on the reluctant mortician. «You have much to make up for, Mr Bowler. I suggest you get down those stairs and help them. Forthwith.»
With a scowl, he ran pell-mell down the stairway, Charlie and I close behind. As we picked our way across the floor, I glanced over to where the sphere lay embedded in the wall, crushed like a spoiled fruit, the glass panel shattered. Hanging half out of it was the body of Venus; his scarlet robes plastered to his body like a shroud, his once-beautiful face set in a crazed rictus grin, the sinews exposed red raw by the heat that had boiled away his flesh. His eyeballs goggled at us in a macabre, steam-palled death-stare.
«Come on!» I urged. I turned my attentions to the captives in their chairs and was at once confronted by the not-too-dissimilar features of the unfortunate Mrs Knight.
«Are you all right?» I enquired. She merely groaned in reply. Charlie was already hacking away her restraints. Despite their weakness, Verdigris and Sash were able to make some sense of the situation and once free pulled themselves up the gantries towards the next level. I helped support Mrs Knight, who had been more recently stupefied and Charlie and Bowler carried the crippled Quibble between them. The old man groaned pitiably as we clattered up the steps towards the next level.
Of a sudden, there came an ear-splitting crack and the floor of the cavern began to shift and undulate. With a horrible, belching roar, molten lava began, inexorably, to force its way through the gap.
We needed no more encouragement to tumble through the door and bolt it behind us, falling gasping into the corridor beyond.
«The lifts!» I yelled. «Quickly!»
Charlie let out an exhausted sigh, then all seven of us staggered off up the corridor, the way we had been brought what seemed like half a lifetime ago. We reached the lift doors, closed now, and Charlie and Bowler lowered Quibble to the floor. I stabbed at the controls but the blasted things refused to open. Mrs Knight appeared to have fallen into a faint.
«Professor Sash!» I barked. «Are you fit enough to help open these doors? Verdigris — you too? Charlie, Bowler, give them both a hand. I’ll see to our invalids.»
It is not in my nature to slap a woman, especially when she looks like a boiled hog’s head, but now was not the time for subtlety. I batted as kindly as I could at the poor soul’s ruined cheeks until she became once more sensible of her surroundings.
«We have to climb, Mrs Knight,» I hissed. «All of us. You too, Professor Quibble. It’s our only hope.»
«What?» he gasped from his resting place on the shuddering floor. «What is all this?»
«We’re inside Vesuvius, Professor. I know it’s hard to credit but Maxwell Morraine’s deranged son has developed his theories into practical form and a great big bloody bomb has set off an eruption. You understand?»
He peered at me myopically and opened his mouth to protest.
«You want me to leave you here?»
Quibble’s rat-trap mouth closed firmly.
From deep below us came a fearful rumble. I glanced feverishly about.
«They’re moving!» gasped Charlie, his fingernails jammed into the crack between the lift doors. «Come on! Put your backs into it!»
Slowly, the doors began to screech apart. Around us the electric lights studding the walls had begun to spark and sizzle. All at once, the doors gave and Charlie, Bowler, Verdigris and Sash hauled them apart. Inside there was only empty space.
I gazed up at the shaft, the chains from which the lift had been suspended swung uselessly, stirred by the hot winds from below.
«We have to get on to those rungs,» I cried. «Charlie, you go first. We’ll get Quibble up after you and I’ll push the bugger. Got that?»
Charlie nodded and swung himself up on to the first rung as another tremor hit and the shaft visibly rocked.
«Keep going!» I urged. Charlie, hanging by one arm, helped me to launch the shaking Quibble on to the rungs. Behind me came Verdigris and Sash, doing the same for the still-enfeebled Mrs Knight; the penitent Bowler brought up the rear. We climbed and climbed but Quibble’s ruined body became heavier and heavier. I pushed as best I could but his withered hands were struggling to support him on the hot iron rungs. My own arms ached fearsomely.
Chest heaving, I struggled on, Quibble’s useless legs dangling before me like empty stockings. «Must… get out, Professor,» I gasped. «Can’t rest…
The old man was certainly game. Somehow, incredibly, we made progress. I craned my neck to see above.
«Charlie!» I called. «How far?»
«We’re getting there!» he cried.
Suddenly the lift-shaft shook again and there came a bizarre sucking, grumbling sound.
«Don’t stop!» I shouted. «All of you! Keep climbing.»
But I sneaked a peek down the deep shaft and saw that instead of the darkness we had left, there was now a dreadful fiery red.
«My God!» I cried hoarsely. «The lava! It’s rising!»
Far below (thank the Lord Harry), crowned by flame and smoke, a vast plug of molten rock was surging up towards us.
I swung my head up to yell at Charlie to help drag Quibble up but the words died in my mouth. The top of the lift shaft was only ten feet or so above us and looking down, holding my revolver, was Cretaceous Unmann.
«You have a choice, Mr Box,» he called down. «Jump down into the lava or be picked off by me.»
«What the hell do you mean?» I cried.
He loosed off a shot that sang off the ladder with a screeching clang. I heard Mrs Knight squeal in terror.
«What I say. I offer you a choice of demises.»
«Listen, you mad fool,» I shouted diplomatically. «If we don’t all get to the surface in the next few minutes we’re going to fry! Is that what you want?»
«You think I wouldn’t do it?» he yelled. «You think I don’t have it in me to shoot you down?»
«I have no doubt you have it in you.» I cast a quick look downwards at the rising tide of lava. The figures of Sash, Verdigris, Mrs Knight and Bowler were silhouetted starkly against a curtain of blood-orange.
«I’m only saying you will die as surely as the rest of us if you don’t move right now!»
«But that’s what Venus wants! Death! Destruction! Annihilation! Ha, ha, ha!»
Another shot rang out and I heard Bowler scream. I looked down and saw him swaying on the rungs below, blood pouring from his throat. Then the poor fool was gone, spiralling down, down, down into the blistering lava flow.
«Choose, Mr Box!» screeched Unmann, his ripped robes flopping forward over the lip of the shaft.
The whole edifice shuddered again and I felt Professor Quibble begin to topple backwards on to me. I thrust
