The sun rose blood-red over the trees at the crater rim. To the West the mountains of Tibet stood out burnt orange above the dark foothills.
The idea of a stroll above ground in the spoil heaps of toxic waste had not exactly appealed to Virginia, but Stone knew the reality would be different, and dragged her up there. He’d seen these mountains before, and tasted the air. He took her up there at first light. No time to waste in any case, looking at Semyonov. Carslake was still asleep.
Above ground, everything seemed better. Virginia’s mane of hair flowed again in the cool breeze. There were goose bumps on her arms in the chill, and a warm smile glowing in her eyes. Maybe she wasn’t all artifice. She done it all for a reason, even if that reason was guilt. It must have killed Semyonov at sixteen, when she disappeared out of his life. As it must kill Virginia to see him now.
After the night in Lin Biao’s Chamber of Secrets, Stone felt a small wave of ecstasy flood through him. Impossibly clear mountain air, and the vision of the virgin forest against the deep blue sky of the Tibetan daybreak. Stone inhaled lustily and walked to the steel tower which held the winding gear at the head of the shaft. He thought again of Semyonov, his lungs scrabbling for oxygen in the damp pit below them.
‘You should get Semyonov brought out here,’ he shouted to Virginia. 'It would do him good.' The fresh air was all the sweeter for knowing he was about to go nearly a kilometre underground, down a hole not much wider than his shoulders.
The winding gear was pretty simple. Up. Down. And a speed regulator. Some Chinese guys were on hand, and they showed Virginia how to use the gear, but Semyonov insisted they had to it themselves. He didn’t want the Chinese trying anything the minute he’d brought the Machine out of the mine. After the briefing, the engineers were packed off in a truck, and driven out beyond the fence. Stone and Virginia were on their own.
Where the hell was Carslake?
Stone opened the door to the steel cage. He had on a white overall and a hardhat with a flashlight. The cage was a cylinder about 170 centimetres tall. Made to fit the Machine. It was pointed at either end with cones, and painted with the ShinComm logo. Twenty-two inches seems a lot, but inside it was less, and when your knees are bent and your neck is crooked to fit inside, it feels pretty small. The ride down would feel like a long fifteen minutes in the pitch dark.
‘Steven says he’ll supervise by the phone link,’ called Virginia.
‘Sure,’ Stone smiled at her. To encourage her. She was looking more nervous than he was. And for once, he was nervous. ‘Let’s get on with it,’ he shouted back. ‘And get that lazy bastard Carslake out of bed when I’m down there.
‘He’s not going to like it,’ she said.
‘No. He’s going to love it!’
Stone slammed the steel cage door shut on himself and rattled to check it was secure. There was a hum on of electric motors above him in the winding tower, and Stone slipped smoothly down into the Death Hole.