Campbell's Kingdom (29 page)

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Authors: Hammond Innes

BOOK: Campbell's Kingdom
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I got back into the cab and half a mile further on we caught up with the tail light of the truck ahead. They had pulled up, engines panting softly in the darkness. I ran up to the leading truck and sent Boy back to bring up the rear. Garry looked at me once out of the corners of his eyes as I settled down beside him, but he said nothing and we started forward up the long drag to the camp.

It was twelve-forty when we saw the lights of a hut. More lights appeared as we slowly followed the road across the camp area. From somewhere in the darkness came the faint hum of a diesel electric plant. ‘Do you reckon they've all gone down in those trucks?' Garry asked. It was the first time he had spoken.

‘I don't know,' I said. ‘I hope so.'

We were almost clear of the camp when a man suddenly ran out into the middle of the road, flagging us down with his arm. ‘What do we do now?' the driver asked. ‘Ignore him?'

But I knew we couldn't ignore him. ‘You'll have to pull up,' I said. I could feel myself trembling and my feet and hands felt deathly cold. Something had gone wrong. Another man appeared beside the first; another and another—a whole bunch of them. As we pulled up they crowded round us. ‘Switch the dashboard light off,' I said to the driver. And then leaning out of the darkness of the cab I flashed the beam of my torch on them, blinding them. ‘What the hell are you boys doing up here?' I rasped. ‘Didn't you get Trevedian's orders. Every man is wanted down the trail. There's been a bad fall. One of our trucks is buried.'

A man stepped forward, a big gangling fellow with a battered nose. ‘We only got here yesterday. We heard some sort of a commotion going on and then the trucks pulled out. They must have forgotten about us, I guess. We didn't know what in hell was going on. We'd just about decided to take one of the trucks and go down and find out. We thought mebbe they were scared of another slide.'

I said, ‘Well, you'd better get down there as fast as you can. It's an emergency call. Trevedian wants everybody down there.'

‘Then why didn't you boys stay there?'

‘We had to clear the road,' I said quickly. ‘Besides he wasn't risking this stuff. It's got to be up the top and ready to start operating tomorrow. Anybody on the hoist?'

‘I don't know,' the big fellow answered. ‘We're new here.'

‘Well, if you're new here you'd better look lively and get down the road. Trevedian's a bad man to fall out with.'

‘Tough, eh? Well, nobody ain't going to get tough with me.' His voice was drowned in a babble of talk. Then the men began to drift away to their hut. I signalled the driver to go on and we rumbled into the trees and down the slope to the edge of the slide. A glow pierced the darkness ahead, resolved itself into an arc light hanging from a tall pine pole. There were others, a whole circle of lights blazing on the dazzling white of the snow, lighting up the concrete box of the cable housing. A figure appeared, armed with a rifle. ‘Hell!' I breathed. That damned fool Butler had failed to collect the guard.

I clambered down from the cab and started to explain. But as soon as I told him we'd got to get our trucks up the hoist he began asking me for my pass. ‘Don't be a Goddamn fool, man,' I shouted. ‘Trevedian's down at the fall trying to clear it. How in hell would he issue passes? Can you work the motor?'

He shook his head uncertainly.

‘Well, probably one of my men can handle it,' I said.

But he said, ‘Nobody's allowed to touch the engine except the hoist men.'

‘Oh, for God's sake,' I yelled at him. ‘This isn't routine. This is an emergency. Don't you know what's happened?' He shook his head. I leaned closer. ‘Better keep this under your hat. Nobody's supposed to know. There's a bad crack developed in the foundations of the dam. They think the cliff face may be moving. We've got to drill and find out what the strata underneath is formed of. And we've got to do it damned quick.' I caught hold of his arm. ‘Christ, man what do you think we're doing up here when one of our own trucks is buried under a fall? We wanted to stay and help dig him out. But Trevedian wouldn't let us. He said it was more important to get our trucks up on schedule.'

The man hesitated, conviction struggling against caution. ‘You wait here,' he said and hurried back to the housing. Garry joined me. Through the slit I could see him winding and winding at the telephone. ‘What's going to happen?' Garry asked.

‘It'll work out,' I said.

‘Well, no rough stuff,' he growled. ‘We've done about $10,000 worth of damage already tonight.'

‘They'd have a job to prove we did it,' I said.

‘Mebbe. But if you try pulling a gun on this guy . . .'

‘I haven't got a gun on me,' I snapped irritably. ‘And anyway I'm not that much of a fool.'

The guard came out of the housing. ‘I can't get any reply.' His voice was hesitant. He was unsure of himself.

‘What did you expect?' I snarled at him. ‘There's a million tons of rock down on the road and the line's under it. In any case, Trevedian's at the fall, not in his office.' I turned as figures emerged into the glare of the lights led by the man with the battered nose. ‘What's the trouble?' I said.

‘No keys in the trucks,' he said. ‘What do we do now?' They were muffled in fur jackets and windbreakers. Some carried picks and shovels. ‘If we could have one of your trucks,' he said.

I hesitated. But the snow was falling thick. Much as I wanted to get rid of them I didn't dare risk one of the trucks. ‘Are you just labourers or have any of you been taken on as engineers on the draw works of the hoist here?'

It was a shot in the dark, a hundred to one chance, but it came off. One of them stepped forward. ‘Please. I am engaged to replace an engineer who is seek.' Dark eyes flashed in a sallow face. ‘I am shown how eet works yesterday.' He smiled ingratiatingly.

‘Good,' I said. ‘Get in there and get the engine started.' And as the little Italian hurried over to the housing I turned to the guard. ‘There. Does that satisfy you? Goddamn it,' I added. ‘You'd think that piece of machinery was something new in atomic weapons the way you fuss about it.'

‘But my orders—'

‘Damn your orders!' I screamed, catching hold of him by his coat and shaking him. ‘It's just a diesel engine. Like any other damned diesel engine. And this stuff has got to be up there first thing. And because of your blasted Trevedian and this bloody dam we're up here instead of helping to dig out one of our pals. I wish to God we'd never been given the job. But it's a thousand bucks a day this outfit costs and there'll be hell to pay if we're not up there on schedule, snow or no snow.' I swung round on the silent, gaping crowd of men. ‘All right. You stay here and give us a hand loading the trucks. Garry!' He didn't answer. He stood there, staring at me and for the first time that night I saw a gleam of excitement in his eyes, a hint of laughter. ‘Get your first truck on to the staging. These men will help you load and secure. Boy! You ride up with the first vehicle and surpervise the off-loading at the top. And see that you don't waste any time.' I turned to the bunch of men, standing there like sheep. ‘Any of you cook?' It was the inevitable Chinaman who came forward. ‘All right,' I said. ‘You get up to the cookhouse. I want hot chow for all of us in two hours' time. Okay?'

‘Okay, mister. I can do. Velly good cook.'

‘See it's hot,' I shouted at him. ‘That's all I care about.'

I turned then and went into the housing. The pilot motor was already running. The little Italian engineer grinned at me. The guard hovered uncertainly. The cable wheel trembled and the cage bumped as the rig truck was driven on to the staging. The guard touched my arm. His face was pale and he was still uncertain. He opened his mouth to say something and then the big diesel started with a roar that drowned all other sound. I saw a look of helplessness come into his eyes and he turned away.

I knew then that we were through the worst. He couldn't hold the whole gang of us up with his rifle. Besides it must have seemed all right. I'd more than twenty men from the camp working with me. I had come in quite openly. All that made him doubtful, I imagine, was that his instructions had been dinned into him very thoroughly and forcefully.

Five minutes later the draw works began to turn and the first and heaviest truck went floating off into the whirling, driving white of the night. It was there for a second, white under its canopy of snow, looking strangely unreal suspended from the cable, and then it reached the limits of the lights and vanished abruptly. It was like a scene from a pantomime where some object takes to the air and is lost as it moves from the circle of the spotlight.

I stayed inside the engine housing. I was safe there. Nobody could talk to me against the roar of the engine. One or two tried, but gave it up. I had warned Garry to see that all his men knew the story and stuck to it if they got into conversation with any of the men from the camp or if the guard started asking questions. Shortly after two-thirty the Chinaman brought down big thermos flasks full of thick soup, piping hot, and a great pile of meat sandwiches. Three trucks were up by then. A fourth was just leaving. We sent one flask up with it. The snow was still falling. ‘It sure must be hell up top,' one of the drivers said. His face was a white circle in the fur of his hood. ‘Have you been up on this thing, Mr Wetheral?'

‘Yes,' I said. And suddenly I realised he was scared. ‘It's all right,' I said. ‘You won't see anything. It'll just be cold as hell.'

He nodded and swallowed awkwardly. ‘I'm scared of heights, I guess.'

Somebody shouted to him. His mouth worked convulsively. ‘I must go now. That's my truck.'

‘Switch your cab lights on,' I called after him as he climbed on to the staging. ‘It'll just be like a road then.'

He nodded. And a moment later he was on his way, a white bloodless face staring at the wheel he was gripping as the diesel roared and the cables swung him up and out into the night.

By four o'clock the sixth truck was being loaded. Every few minutes now I found myself glancing at my watch. Eight minutes past four and the hoist was running again. Only one more truck. ‘What's worrying you?' Garry shouted above the din of the engine.

‘Nothing,' I said.

He didn't say anything, but I noticed that his eyes kept straying now to the point where the roadway up to the camp plunged into darkness. Suppose Butler and his gang had smelt a rat. Or maybe he'd send a truck up for more equipment. They'd find the bridge down. It wouldn't take them long to repair it. Any moment they might drive in, asking what the hell was going on. My hands gripped each other, my eyes alternating between the road and the big iron cable wheel. At last the wheel stopped and we waited for the phone call that would tell us they had unloaded. ‘They're taking their time,' Garry growled. His face looked tired and strained. I had started to tremble again. I tried to pretend it was the cold, but I knew it was nervous strain. At last the bell rang, the indicator fell and the engineer started the cage down. That ten minutes seemed like hours. And then at last the cage humped into the housing, the diesel slowed to a gentle rumble and we could hear the engine of the last tanker roaring as it drove on to the cage. We went out into the driving snow then and watched the securing ropes being made fast.

It was ten to five and the faintest greyness was creeping into the darkness of the night as Garry and I climbed up beside the driver. I raised my hand, there was a shout, the cable ahead of us jerked tight and then we, too, were being slung out into the void.

I don't remember much about that trip up. I know I clutched at the seat, fighting back the overwhelming fear of last minute failure. I remember Garry voicing my thoughts: ‘I hope they don't catch us now,' he said. ‘We'd look pretty foolish swinging up here in space till morning.'

‘Shut up,' I barked at him, my voice unrecognisable in its tenseness.

He looked at me and then suddenly he grinned and his big hand squeezed my arm. ‘They don't breed many of your type around this part of the world.'

The minutes ticked slowly by. A shadow slipped past my window. The pylon at the top. We were over the lip. Two minutes later our progress slowed. There was a slight bump and then we were in the housing. Figures appeared. The lashings were unhitched, the engine roared and with our headlights blazing on to a wall of snow we crawled off the staging and floundered through a drift to stop above the dam.

As we climbed out the cage lifted from the housing and disappeared abruptly. The ground seemed to move under my feet. I heard Boy's voice say, ‘Well, that's the lot, I guess. You're in the Kingdom now, Garry—rig and all.' Then my knees were giving under me and I blacked out.

I came to in the firm belief that I was on board a ship. There was a reek of hot engine oil and the cabin swayed and dipped. And then I opened my eyes and found myself staring at the luminous dial of an oil gauge. Raising my eyes I saw a faint glimmering of grey through a windscreen. ‘You okay, Bruce?' It was Boy's voice. He was propping me up in the seat of a cab and we were grinding slowly through thick snow. ‘You'll be all right soon. There's hot food waiting for us at the ranch-house. We had to stop to fix chains. The snow is pretty deep in places.'

I remember vaguely being spoon fed hot soup and men moving about, talking excitedly, laughing, pumping my hand. And then I was lying in a bed. But this time it was different. It wasn't because I was ill. It was only because I was physically and nervously exhausted. And I was back in the Kingdom. The rig was here at last. We were going to drill now. And with that thought I went to sleep and stayed asleep for twelve hours.

And when I woke up Boy was there beside me and he was grinning and saying that the rig would be up before nightfall. When I went down to the drilling site next morning I found the rig erected and the draw works being tightened down on to the steel plates of the platform. The travelling block was already suspended from the crown and the kelly was in its rat housing. They had already begun to dig a mud sump and there were several lengths of pipe ready in the rack.

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