Читать книгу The Devil's Whelp - Vin Hammond Jackson - Страница 9

By the time Clem Berry was entering, the air in the communications room was so heavy it could have been cut with a knife. Pierce was waiting. Clem couldn't see his face but even a blind man would have been hard put to miss the build-up of tension within the diving super. Doug Bromley was close by. His expression was strained and the way his eyes flicked quickly from Clem back to Pierce was another sign. On top of this, and the daddy of them all, was Meyer. He didn't appear to be breathing and the dead give-away was his hands. They were jammed into the pockets of his jacket. You could see them working beneath the material, nervously clenching and unclenching. It was making Clem jittery just watching him, so he turned his attention to the man with the radio.

Pierce had been listening to static. For some reason Eddie had stopped in mid-sentence. Thinking his diver might be affecting some awkward manoeuvre, Jack had waited. Then he could hear breathing again, but it had become heavy and erratic. He waited a further ten seconds, counting down mentally. When MacFarlane still hadn't come back, he pressed the talk button. "Eddie? Is anything wrong, Eddie?"

Stupid question. Then something really weird came through. Jack could feel the hairs on his arms beginning to tingle. What was that sound? It was like gurgling or slurping. His mouth was open in dumb surprise and had gone very dry. "Eddie?" More slurping. "Eddie, for Pete's sake, talk to me!"

Pierce's hand dived for the switch that would connect him with the speakers in the moon pool. "Eddie's in trouble. Get down to him, quickly!"

Bill Rose had been chatting to Kenny Pratt, one of the other divers. Their conversation was drowned out by the static-laden gabble coming from the speakers. Bill hurried over to the intercom and spoke into it. "Say again, Jack."

"Eddie's in strife." Pierce's voice repeated his message, with more control and precision the second time. It was laced with concern that he apparently wasn't even attempting to disguise. "Go down, Bill, but do it right - no risks. Do you copy?"

"On my way, Jack." Pierce heard the scrape as Bill picked up his rat-hat, then his breathing as he put it on. "Jack?"

"Receiving, Bill."

Pierce's acknowledgment of the simple communications check filled Rose's helmet. "Got you too, Jack." Rose was already on his way to the ladder that led down into the moon pool. The ball in his stomach was there. It seemed to be bigger than usual and was making it hard to breathe.

Pierce said: "How's your air?"

Rose inhaled as deeply as the tightness in his gut would allow. "She'll be right." He was descending the ladder and the water was up to his waist, then his chest. Suddenly he could feel it around his neck and he had a terrible premonition that it was about to fill the rat-hat. He watched it come up the outside of the visor until the surface was just level with his bulging eyes. Thank God, it had stayed out.

He was starting to breathe easier, but not much - he was too intent on catching one last glimpse from the reality side of the moon pool mirror. Releasing the ladder, he was through the secret door, looking back up at the lights shining beyond the surface and wanting desperately to break through and see them once more. He gathered his senses and thought about Eddie, only Eddie. "Going down, Jack."

Pierce double-checked the air controls while listening to the mixture of sounds being fed through his ear-phones. Bill was still talking his way down, but Eddie's slurping - if it was Eddie's - had been replaced by something he couldn't discern. "Bill," he said as naturally as he was able, "Can you hold the talk for one?" He listened. Before he could stop himself, he said: "My God, what's he doing now?"

It was barely a whisper, but Meyer's ears were like radar dishes when there was something around he wasn't supposed to hear. He pushed his way past Doug Bromley and leaned over Pierce. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

Pierce didn't even hear him. His finger was trembling as it pressed the talk button. "Eddie." His voice wavered too. Would his divers be able to detect that? If so, it was no good. They were relying on him to be calm and rational, supremely confident. He tried again: "Eddie?" That sounded better. "If you can hear me, Eddie, just take it easy. Breathe easy. Save your strength. Bill's on his way down. He'll bring you up. You're going to be alright."

Eddie was whimpering.

"There's nothing to worry about, son," coaxed Pierce in the most confidence-boosting tone he could muster. "Hang on for a few minutes longer and....." Pierce staggered as a terrified scream exploded inside the ear-phones.

Clem saw it and frowned. He'd been thinking about the cloud of sediment he'd seen on the monitor, wondering if it had anything to do with what was happening and whether he ought to say something to Jack about it. The last thought was a passing one only - Pierce had enough troubles already. In fact, Clem felt pretty useless like so much dead weight, and there was enough of that around the place already. He put out a massive hand and touched the toolpusher's arm gently. Bromley turned. Clem made a hitch-hike thumb back over his shoulder. "I'll be at the stack controls if I'm needed." He caught Bromley's nod and left.

Clem Berry wasn't the only one to feel useless. Jack Pierce was babbling away into the microphone stalk, but there was no way of knowing whether anyone had heard him until he released the talk button. When he did, he was still none the wiser. First there was cackling, then a series of hysterical shrieks, followed by what sounded like gargling screeches. If he didn't know better, he would have said that MacFarlane was drowning in his own blood!

"Jesus!" Bill Rose's voice was a metallic, but welcomed rasp. "He's...."

"He's what?" Beads of perspiration were running down Pierce's drawn cheeks in never-ending streams. "What's he doing, Bill? Bill, what's wrong with Eddie? Bill!!"

Rose's eventual reply was squeaky and disbelieving. "He's gone bloody troppo!"

"Okay, Bill, steady. Just tell me what's happening."

"Eddie's dancing!"

"What do you mean? Is he having a seizure, a fit, what?"

"He's dancing, I said! He's doing a fuckin' jig!" Rose was panting. "And there's stuff all round him.

"What kind of stuff?

"I don't know. Like phosphorus, blue or purple, it's hard to tell the bottom's so stirred up. Oh, Shit! It's inside his hat! I can see the face-plate glowing. The hat must have flooded. I've got to get to him!"

"Hold it, Bill," Pierce cut in hastily. "Stay where you are."

"But he needs air, for Christ's sake!"

"Wait!" snapped Pierce. "You don't know what that stuff is! Just wait a moment." He wiped angrily at the sweat that was stinging his eyes. "Eddie, listen to me, Eddie. This is Jack on the Olympian." Pierce felt utterly helpless. Talking to the boy was just a waste of time - MacFarlane wouldn't be able to reply, not with a flooded rat-hat! No wonder he was gurgling. The poor kid was choking on sea water! But if he didn't try to get through to Eddie, maybe get him to swim out of the phosphorus, or whatever it was, then Rose would have to go into it and the same thing might happen to him! "Eddie, move away from the stack. Try to swim away, Eddie."

"Jack?" wailed a pathetically weak and terrified voice.

"Was that you, Bill?" asked Pierce hurriedly.

"Not me, Jack."

"I thought you said he'd flooded?"

"Jack?" wailed the voice again. "Help me!"

"Sorry, Jack," said Rose. "It just looked like..."

"Eddie," cut in Pierce, "Listen to me. We will help you, but you must listen."

"Oh, Jack, please! Jack!"

"Okay, Eddie. We're coming. Now, remember where you are. You're two hundred feet below us, but you are not alone. Bill's there, very close to you."

"Oh, Jesus, Jack! It's inside me!"

Inside? What's inside? Every hair on Pierce's body was standing bolt upright. Get a grip on yourself, Jack, he warned. For Eddie's sake, don't go to pieces. He's just rambling. He's scared, that's all. "It will be alright soon, Eddie. Bill's coming. Bill will help you, Eddie. You have to come up to the surface. Do you understand? You must come up. Bill will help you. Don't try to do it on your own. Let Bill bring you up." Pierce was running out of breath. "Eddie, you must come up. There's nothing to be afraid of. We're all waiting for you topside. Come up with Bill. He's down there with you. Do you understand? Eddie? Eddie, talk to me."

Eddie started whimpering again, then, the pathetic sound cut off and was replaced by a hiss. Pierce cocked his head instinctively. The sound faded, then came again, louder, clearer the second time. "Jack ... anyone!" MacFarlane's voice was becoming more distraught, if that was possible. "For pity's sake, he-e-lp mmeee-eeee....!

Shivers ascended Pierce's spine and lingered at his neck. He was vaguely aware that his eyes were bulging. "Bill?" He gasped out the name. "Bill, what's he doing now?"

"Nothing," Rose came back incredulously. "Just standing."

"Okay, get over to him."

"On my way, Jack."

"Listen, Bill," added Pierce hastily, "Take it easy going into that stuff. If you start to feel anything - light-headed, burning, anything - just get out. Leave Eddie and abort the dive."

"I'm nearly there, Jack," panted Rose. "A few more feet. I was right - it's a sort of purple colour. I'm just touching the edge of it. There's only a tingle like a small electric current. I think I'll be okay...

"Get out, Bill!

"But it's just a ting..."

"Abort the dive! Right now!

"I can't leave him, Chief!"

"You do as you're damn well told!" Pierce was yelling into the microphone stalk.

"I'm almost there. Reaching out."

"That's a negative, Bill. Do not, repeat: do not touch him!"

"It's alright, Jack I'm there. I've got him. It’s okay, Jack, we're ....ooommphhh!"

"Bill?" It sounded as if Rose had just lost all of his air in a single rush. "Bill, what happened? Are you...?" A peculiar cry reached Pierce. The unearthly wail rose in key and volume until it was a high-pitched whistle. It continued to slide up the scale until it surpassed audible reception, at least of any human ear.

Rose cut in as the sound faded. He was gasping, fighting for air. "Jack__ He's gone__ up." He continued breathing deeply for a few seconds. "Sorry. Not making much sense. He hit me. Fetched me a beauty. Knocked me silly and just went. He's going up, Jack. Don't know if I can catch him."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I can manage, but Eddie...."

"Leave him, Bill." Meyer was almost touching Pierce. He had only been subjected to the same level of suspense as Doug Bromley, but the one-sided conversation was apparently too much for Les to bear. He reached over the diving supervisor's shoulder for the switch to the speaker button. Jack Pierce slashed the hand away. "Let him go, Bill. Let him come up."

"I don't think he'll stop, Jack. He took off like a cruise missile."

"Don't worry about Eddie. The chamber's ready. We'll put him straight in as soon as he surfaces. You just look after yourself. Are you alright?"

"Bit winded. Jeez, that little Scotch bastard packs a wallop. But I'm okay now. If you want, I can have a sticky-beak around the stack, see if I can find out what made Eddie...."

"Negative, Bill!" barked Pierce. "Forget the stack. Just get out of that stuff and come up."

"It's gone Jack. As soon as Eddie went, it kind-of disappeared."

"Come up anyway. Make your ascent steadily. Observe natural decompression, but if something else happens, something peculiar - anything, Bill - just come straight up. You can keep Eddie company in the chamber. And talk to me all the way. All the way, do you copy?"

"Five by five, Jack. I'm on my way. Moving up past the blue pod. I can see traces of hydraulic...."

Pierce was listening to every word, but he was more interested in the tone of Bill's voice than in what he had to say. Still listening, he spoke to the standby divers waiting beside the moon pool, giving them just enough information, but no more. Then he returned his attention to the two men in the room with him. He looked at them, at their faces. Bromley was genuinely concerned. Meyer looked like a father who had received news that his kid had crashed the Volvo. Top of his list of phone calls would be the repair shop. Somewhere in the rest was the hospital.

Pierce spoke directly to the toolpusher. "Eddie's had a spot of trouble. We don't know what it was yet. Maybe we'll find out when he comes up." He paused, listened to Rose's commentary for a moment then continued. "He seems to be in shock, so he won't be observing the usual decompression stops on his way up. You heard me organising the chamber. As long as we get him straight in, he'll be okay."