There came a bright blink of light on the surface of the water not far from the jolly-boat—then another and another. The men were surfacing. As they did so, the moon caught the glass of their masks. They swam to the boat—Largo verified that all eight were there—and clumsily heaved up the short ladder and over the side.
The mechanic and Branch, the German killer, helped them off with their gear, the underwater light was switched off and hauled inboard and, instead of the rattle of the generator, there came the muffled roar of the twin Johnstons. The boat sped back to the yacht and to the waiting arms of the derricks. The couplings were made firm and verified and, with a shrill electric whine, the boat, complete with passengers, was swung up and inboard.
The captain came and stood at Largo’s side. He was a big, sullen, rawboned man who had been cashiered from the Canadian Navy for drunkenness and insubordination. He had been a slave to Largo ever since Largo had called him to the stateroom one day and broken a chair over his head on account of a questioned command. That was the kind of discipline he understood. Now he said, “The hold’s clear. Okay to sail?”
“Are both the teams satisfied?”
“They say so. Not a hitch.”
“First see they all get one full jigger of whisky. Then tell them to rest. They will be going out again in just about an hour. Ask Kotze to have a word with me. Be ready to sail in five minutes.”
“Okay.”
The eyes of the physicist, Kotze, were bright under the moon. Largo noticed that he was trembling slightly as if with fever. He tried to instill calm into the man. He said cheerfully, “Well, my friend. Are you pleased with your toys? The toy shop has sent you everything you want?”
Kotze’s lips trembled. He was on the verge of excited tears. He said, his voice high, “It is tremendous! You have no idea. Weapons such as I had never dreamed of. And of a simplicity—a safety! Even a child could handle these things without danger.”
“The cradles were big enough for them? You have room to do your work?”
“Yes, yes.” Kotze almost flapped his hands with enthusiasm. “There are no problems, none at all. The fuses will be off in no time. It will be a simple matter to replace them with the time mechanism. Maslov is already at work correcting the threads. I am using lead screws. They are more easy to machine.”
“And the two plugs—these ignitors you were telling me about? They are safe? Where did the divers find them?”
“They were in a leaden box under the pilot’s seat. I have verified them. Perfectly simple when the time comes. They will of course be kept apart in the hiding place. The rubber bags are splendid. Just what was needed. I have verified that they seal completely watertight.
“No danger from radiation?”
“Not now. Everything is in the leaden cases.” Kotze shrugged. “I may have picked up a little while I was working on the monsters but I wore the harness. I will watch for signs. I know what to do.”
“You are a brave man, Kotze. I won’t go near the damned things until I have to. I value my sex life too much. So you are satisfied with everything? You have no problems? Nothing has been left on the plane?”
Kotze had got himself under control. He had been bursting with the news, with his relief that the technical problems were within his power. Now he felt empty, tired. He had voided himself of the tensions that had been with him for weeks. After all this planning, all these dangers, supposing his knowledge had not been enough! Supposing the bloody English had invented some new safety device, some secret control, of which he knew nothing! But when the time came, when he unwrapped the protective webbing and got to work with his jeweler’s tools, then triumph and gratitude had flooded into him. No, now there were no problems. Everything was all right. Now there was only routine. Kotze said dully, “No. There are no problems. Everything is there. I will go and get the job finished.”