Then surprise became certainty. There was a great rumbling sound out of the deep rock that underlay the city—a giant, complaining basso-profundo groan. The big safe shook itself gently and rolled out to meet me, slowly, carefully, as if unsure of its welcome. The vibration grew, tingling the soles of my feet. A bottle of ink on my uncle’s shabby old desk danced tremblingly across the desktop and flung itself shatteringly on the floor. Blue-black ink spattered the cuffs of my dress-scarlet uniform. Harley Danthorpe took a quick step, missed his footing and fell to the floor.
“Quake!” I cried. “It’s a seaquake, ahead of schedule!”
The vibrations must have stirred my uncle even out of his coma—Uncle Stewart was the kind of mariner who would have come back from the gates of Death itself at a challenge like that. He pushed himself groggily up on one elbow. “Quake,” he whispered. “Gideon…”
Gideon looked at him and nodded. “That’s right, Stewart,” he said gently. “Right on schedule. Now we’d better get out of here!”
“Wait!” cried Lt. Tsuya, clutching at the desk. “What are you talking about?”
“This building,” Gideon said grimly. “It isn’t going to take much of this! If you hope to bring your prisoner in alive, Lieutenant, you better get us all out into Radial Seven!”
The floor was dancing crazily under us now. It wasn’t a major quake—not yet; Force Three or Four, I estimated, in the split-second of time I had for such things. But it wasn’t by any means over yet. It could well build up to the Force Ten or Twelve that we ourselves had predicted…and in that case, it would all be over!
A gargling sound came out of the emergency PA. speaker on the walclass="underline"
“Attention all citizens! Attention all citizens!” it rasped. “This is a Quake Alert! All routine precautions will be put into effect immediately. All safety walls will be energized. All slidewalks will be stopped to conserve power. All public ways will be restricted to official use only.”
It coughed and was silent as the power was turned off.
“You hear that?” Gideon demanded. “Come on, Lieutenant! Let’s get out of here.”
But it wasn’t that easy.
The floor shuddered lazily under us again, and the safe, that had minced daintily out into the middle of the floor, now wheeled itself with careful decorum back to the wall once more. Back—and a little more; that safe was heavy; the faint, imperceptible tilt of the floor that moved it gave it enough impetus to crash thunderingly against no the wall. Plaster splintered. There was a rattling, rolling bowling-ball clatter from inside it of toppling lead brick and colliding primary reactors—not a pleasant sound! In theory these devices were safe unless specially set off by their own fuses, but it was not a theory any of us cared to count on. If one of them had exploded, caught by some freakish accident in just such a way that it went off—
Why, then, our forecasts would not matter; a Force Twelve quake could strike the city, and no one would care—for we would all be dead, as one sphere triggered the next and all of them went up in one giant burst of nuclear energy, huge enough to demolish the dome entirely!
Gideon commanded: “Grab hold, there. You, Jim! Brace that thing!”
We all sprang to the safe—even my uncle tottered to his feet. Whatever it was that had been in the little needle Gideon gave him, it was doing the trick; his face showed color, his eyes were coming alive. He put his shoulder next to mine and the two of us steadied one side of the safe, Harley Danthorpe and the lieutenant the other while Gideon hastily chocked the plunging wheels with telephone books, the mattress from the cot, whatever was handy.
“Now let’s get out of here!” cried Gideon.
The lieutenant cast one glance at the weaving walls of the rickety old structure and surrendered. The building was steel. The foundations were strong enough, the building itself was in no danger of collapsing. But the inside walls—that was another story. Old, untended, under the sea-green paint Gideon had applied, peeling with neglect, it wouldn’t take much to crack off the plaster or drop pieces of the ceiling on us. Gideon was right. The only thing to do was to get out into Radial Seven, where we would be safe as long as the Dome itself was safe.
The P.A. speaker hiccoughed and crackled into life again as we were hustling out the door:
“Attention all citizens! Attention all citizens! Here is a message from the mayor! There is no reason for alarm. Repeat, there is no reason for alarm. Our safety devices are holding up well. The mayor expects no casualties or serious damage. The Quake Alert will be lifted as soon as possible. Repeat—there is no reason for alarm!”
“But I’ll bet he’s alarmed, just the same,” panted Gideon over his shoulder, and turned his head to wink at me. It was like old times! I felt a sudden thrill of warmth, remembering the dangers Gideon and I had faced, remembering all the tight spots we had been in, and how we had met them. Artificial quakes—contraband nuclear explosives—why, these things didn’t matter! In that moment I was absolutely sure that nothing mattered, except that I was with my uncle and Gideon Park; they would explain everything, they would clear themselves, it was only a matter of waiting and having faith…
In that moment.
But then—something happened.
We came to the street exit, looking out on Radial Seven—now filled with scurrying, hurrying figures, seeking shelter, racing to protect their homes and goods. But there seemed to be no damage. Lt Tsuya whispered fervently: “If only there isn’t another quake—”
And my uncle said clearly: “There will be seven more.”
“Seven.” The lieutenant whirled to face him, his expression grim and contorted. “Then you admit that—”
But he never finished his sentence.
The old building had been vibrating in the residual stresses of the quake; and it was not only the inside walls that had been neglected. An ornate old cornice, set high over the doorway, crackled, sighed, trembled on the verge —and came down.
“Jump, Jim!” snapped Gideon’s voice like a whip. I jumped—not quite in time. The cornice came down as I plowed into Harley Danthorpe and the lieutenant. It was false, ugly—a miserable old-fashioned thing; but fortunately so for us, for it was only plaster, not the granite it pretended to be. Even so it caught me on the shoulder. I went head over heels with Harley and Lt. Tsuya. There was a sudden shouting commotion.
And then I blacked out.
And when I woke up, there was Lt. Tsuya, pinned by the legs, screeching like a banshee. “They got away, they got away!” he howled. “Murderers! Traitors! Stewart Eden, I’ll get you if it’s the last thing I do on earth!”
And Gideon and my uncle, in the confusion, had got clean away.
By the time we got the lieutenant free and tried to get in touch with the Dome police, many precious minutes had passed; the police had enough to do, coping with the Quake Alert; they weren’t interested in crazy stories from Fleet officers about contraband atomic fuses and man-made seaquakes.
Lt. Tsuya turned to me bitterly. “All right, Cadet Eden!” he barked. “What do you have to say in defense of your uncle now? He’s run away. As far as I’m concerned that proves his guilt!”
I had no answer at all.
16
The Intruder in Station K
Krakatoa Dome had taken a pounding. But there was plenty of reserve strength to meet it; the city had been shaken up, but no more.
We finally managed to get a detachment of Sub-Sea Marines up from Fleet Base to take charge of the nucleonic fuses in my uncle’s safe, and ourselves hurried back to the Base and to Station K to check the results of the quake.