As they passed through the ice field which the engineers had created, the noise being made by the berg itself began to reach them. Bits and pieces were still falling off die cliff, and they were careful to stay clear until the man-made avalanche had stopped falling into the sea. But even when the thunder of falling boulders had ceased, a pervasive sound still came from the massive piece of ice with unexpected intensity. Water flowed everywhere, its voice varying from a tinkle to a roar, as though somewhere deep within the berg there were massive waterfalls. And as water settled downwards over the surfaces and through the depths, so air rose up, its tones echoing the water’s, from the bubbling whisper of a breeze to the distant thunder of gales magically entombed.
Richard remembered none of this noise from his previous visit, but then he had been high up on the ice cliffs. Perhaps things were quieter up there. He hoped so, or no one at the ice camp was going to get any sleep at all during the next month or so.
He let the inflatable bump gently along the sheer, crystalline coast of the iceberg until he found a good place for them all to climb up. Leaving one man to guard the big rubber craft, he followed the rest of them up onto the ice.
It was wet and slippery, running not only with meltwater but with salt spray from die explosion and avalanche. Scrambling up a shallow slope behind the others, Richard almost collided with the line of men who stood looking across the gallery the explosives had created.
It was obviously going to be impossible to tie the tow ropes to the top of the cliffs. That had never been a realistic option; too much expensive rope would have been required and the angle of pull would have been so steep as to have negated half of the ships’ power. They had known for some time that tow ropes would have to be anchored in galleries blown into the ice cliffs like this one at a level a little higher than the little poop deck behind the bridge-house, where the mighty capstans sat. None of the tankers involved in the tow had strengthened sterns, so the capstans would have to be treated with great respect and the application of power from the engines which would bring pressure and stress upon the equipment via the unbreakable rope and the all but immovable inertia of the berg itself would have to be very carefully calculated indeed. But Bob Stark would be here with Achilles tomorrow and they would be able to discuss that then. In the meantime, Tom Snell had created the first gallery by blowing away a section of the cliff. He had been fortunate to find a ledge here big enough to work on. From the back of the ledge he had drilled into the cliff and laid a series of charges designed to send a flat edge of explosive power into the ice, creating a level area half the size of a football pitch with a safe overhang above it. And so he had.
Richard joined the group of engineers and seamen admiring the major’s work, then he helped them clear the level anchorage area of any last bits and pieces of smashed ice. By the time they lost the light, the work was complete and the first anchorage point was clear.
‘That’s excellent,’ said Richard, his voice raised to reach Snell over the tinkling of nearby water and the more distant rumbling of the floes. ‘I think we’ve earned our supper tonight.’
Tom Snell gave a nod of agreement, then his usually grim face split into a wide grin. ‘Yes, Captain,’ he said. ‘Yes, I think we have.’
The dinner was excellent but, as all meals were for Richard, a working one. He could rely on Sally Bell to run the ship for him — they weren’t going anywhere or doing much in seafaring terms at the minute in any case — while he kept in touch with what was taking place on the ice. He needed to review what had happened today and begin to plan the detail of what would happen tomorrow. So dinner was a meeting of all the available members of the Manhattan Club.
‘It’s excellent work to have the first anchorage area clear so quickly,’ rumbled Colin Ross. ‘You’ve hardly been here twenty-four hours.’
‘We’ll have the next one done by this time tomorrow,’ promised Snell. No crossed fingers or touch wood for him. “Then we’ll go down and look at the far end.’
‘Achilles will be here tomorrow,’ said Richard. ‘I’ll keep Bob Stark here and start talking propulsion and associated matters. His first officer will take you down to the far end, Tom, and you can look at things there. Colin, is there any dry ice down there?’
‘Yes. As you’d expect, given the size of the section above the water here, there’s a bit above the water there as a kind of counterweight or balance. The whole of Manhattan is the same shape as Titan here, except that it’s mostly submerged, floating at a slight angle, and facing backwards. That means the bridgehouse is above the water at this end and a kind of forecastle is above the water at the far end. It’s not all that big but it is level and clear. And not even a hundred metres high — you may be able to anchor your lines straight to it.’
‘That would be very convenient.’
‘Then all you have to worry about is where you’re going to anchor Kraken and Psyche when they arrive in ten days,’ observed Kate.
‘Halfway along, of course,’ said Tom, frowning, not too sure about the number of women who seemed to hold senior positions in this enterprise.
Kate nodded. ‘That’ll be at the far end of the section above the water level. Again, most convenient. But we haven’t done much exploring in that area, have we, Colin? Maybe I’d better take a look down there tomorrow.’
Sally Bell leaned forward. ‘You could do some reconnaissance in the Westland first. Map some likely looking areas from the air and then maybe go back on foot if it isn’t too inaccessible.’
‘Good idea,’ nodded Richard. ‘We don’t need the Westland for a while. More boating for you tomorrow, I’m afraid, Tom.’
A steward appeared at Richard’s elbow, holding a portable phone. ‘A call for you, Captain.’
Richard took the phone. ‘Yes?’
‘John Higgins here, Richard.’
‘John. Where are you? You sound very clear.’
‘I’ve just arrived on Niobe. We’re proceeding full ahead and are passing off Newfoundland three days behind you.’
Richard’s bright blue eyes gleamed with excitement as they swept round the small group at the table. He didn’t ask how John had managed to catch up with Niobe so quickly or in such a place; Crewfinders would have seen to all that. They could get anyone anywhere in the world with almost magical efficiency. ‘So Bob arrives with Achilles tomorrow and I can expect you two days after,’ he said, as much to himself as to the man on the far end of the telephone link.
‘What about Ajax?’
‘Fully crewed and on her way. Left Stavanger five days ago.’
‘Phew! That’s going it some! Any news of who’s in command?’
‘Not yet. One of the United Nations EGD crews.’
‘EGD?’
‘An old term Emily Karanga told me about last week before she went dirtside to New York. Equal Geographical Distribution. It means people who get given the job to fill a quota, not because they’re any good.’
‘Is that likely?’
‘Used to happen more in the old days than it does now, I’m sure.’