Agursky nodded. ‘Of course, for fire destroys them. It’s the only way we can be sure that nothing like that ever gets out into the world again.’
‘More than that,’ said Luchov. ‘It’s the only way we can be certain that this place never becomes the focal point of World War III!’
‘What?’ Khuv snapped.
Luchov rounded on him. ‘Oh? And do you think the Americans will sit still for a second of those nightmares launched from here into their airspace? Man, you know as well as I do that they think we’re manufacturing them!’
Khuv drew air in a gasp, became suspicious in a moment. ‘Who have you been talking to, Viktor? That sounded very much like something the British spy Michael Simmons once said to me. I hope you haven’t been interfering in things which don’t concern you. I accept that this failsafe of yours is probably necessary, but I will not accept anyone meddling in my work!’
‘Are you accusing me of something?’ Luchov kept his anger under control.
‘Maybe I am,’ Khuv’s tone was icy. ‘We still don’t know where you disappeared to for three hours when that damned esper ran amok in here. Is that it? Has Alec Kyle been talking to you?’
Luchov scowled, the veins in his seared skull pulsing. ‘I’ve told you, I don’t know what happened to me that night. I suppose I was unconscious. Maybe it was an attempt to kidnap me – bungled, as it turns out. As for this – Alec Kyle? – I’ve not only never met him, I’ve never even heard of him!’ Which was true enough, for the man he’d spoken to was called Harry Keogh.
Agursky had turned away, leaving them to their argument. Khuv watched him go, staring hard after his departing, white-smocked figure. Was there something wrong with the peculiar little scientist? Or … not wrong but different? Something . . . different about him?
‘Aren’t you interested how it’s triggered?’ Luchov asked, still glaring.
‘Eh? Oh, yes, very interested. I’d also like to know if there’s a failsafe for your failsafe!’ Khuv’s attention was back on the Projekt Direktor. ‘This place houses some hundred and eighty scientists, technicians, soldiers at any given time of the day and night, and it contains many millions of roubles’ worth of equipment. If there was an accident -‘
‘Oh, there’ll be no accident,’ Luchov shook his head. ‘If it’s ever used it will be a very deliberate act, I assure you. Let me tell you how it works.
‘There’s empty accommodation close to mine. That becomes the failsafe control centre, with access only to the officer on duty and round the clock access to myself. Oh, and yourself, too, I suppose, since you’ll probably insist upon it. However, I shall expect you to make your name available for the duty roster, as mine will be.’
‘Control centre?’ said Khuv. ‘And what will this control centre contain?’
‘A closed circuit TV monitor panel with three screens. One will watch the Gate and the others the stairwell through the shaft and the exit from it into the Projekt proper. There will be evacuation alert klaxons, too, though I admit a man will have to be pretty nimble to get out once they start sounding. As for the failsafe mechanism: two buttons and a heavy electrical switch. Button one will sound the evacuation alert in the upper levels the very moment that the Duty Officer sees anything come through the Gate. Button two will only be used if the creature is of that sort, and if the electrical fence, flamethrowers and Katushevs don’t stop it. The button will control subordinate machinery: the alarms will sound more urgently, and steel doors will close in the ventilator shafts. If and when the creature passes from the core area, through the magmass levels and into the complex itself . . . then the switch is thrown. This cannot be done accidentally, or until the two buttons have been pressed. The switch, of course, opens the stopcocks on the tanker.’
‘Huh.r Khuv grunted. ‘I note that your quarters – and the control centre – are not far removed from the loading bays and the main entrance.’