The Mobius Continuum was getting to Chung, plus the knowledge that Nathan had been hurt and might well need attention. And it was a fact that Chung couldn't remember the last time Goodly had been wrong. For which reasons: Back to the Refuge, he groaned.
Nathan had the co-ordinates -
- And they were there, as quickly as that.
- He guided them through his fresh-formed door.
- Into chaos!
They emerged in the cave-mouth at exactly the same spot where they'd been all of a minute earlier. And they emerged in time to experience at first-hand lan Goodly's 'explosions .. . shouting ... violence!' But not for thirty seconds yet.
Anna Marie English and an ex-Navy type were waiting, their expressions (even Anna Marie's) showing pure astonishment as Nathan, Trask and Chung appeared out of thin air, the first stepping lightly while the others stumbled, gasping their relief at being back. Two of the cavers had moved deeper into the sump; the remaining pair were outside the wire-mesh cage where they worked at the dials on an
instrument panel, setting them to automatic for the duration of the coming expedition.
That was how it was for a moment. Then:
Trask's phone chirruped insistently. It was one of Anna Marie's men out in the grounds of the Refuge; he had had his walkie-talkie patched through by someone in the administrative office. 'Anna Marie!' His voice came over high-pitched, excited. There are men out in the grounds. I don't recognize them. They're doing something at the frescoed wall. Oh, Christ, they've planted . .. charges? And now they're taking cover!'
lan Goodly's 'explosions' sounded clear in Trask's imagination. But not only in his mind, for a moment later:
The awesome blast that sounded then filled the hollow, acoustical echo-chamber of the Refuge's basement and cavern-housed sump with hammer-blows of concussed air, and was accompanied by a fireball that blazed into blinding existence in the far, front-facing wall. In the next split-second, the wall burst inwards, allowing the fireball to expand into a star of incandescent destruction, while the force of the initial explosion hurled flaming debris - chunks of concrete, masonry and twisted metal - deep into the basement. Pieces of hot, smoking concrete cartwheeled between floor and ceiling and came crashing through the wire-mesh to splash down in the shallow stream or land at the feet of Trask and the others where they shrank from the shock of the blast.
The two ex-Navy types, who had been working at the console which controlled the sluice and various unseen engines and devices, had been picked up and tossed aside, disappearing behind a mushrooming wall of fire and smoke. Perhaps they had screamed as debris rained down to bury them, but if so their screams had gone unheard, lost in the reverberations of the explosion and a burst of automatic gunfire from the gap in the shattered wall, where now the daylight was filtering in through a black smog of smoke and dust.
'Jesus Christ Almighty!' Trask shouted over the din. And: 'What the hell? God, someone is going to pay for all of -'
'Sir!' An urgent voice echoed from the back of the cave. 'This way. If you're coming, come now.'