Impeller Area. 'Pressure's almost up to danger level. Shall I give the order to turn off the flow?'
'You'll do nothing of the sort, Mr van Lutyens.'
'But the pressure is almost up to capacity,' warned van Lutyens, again mopping beads of sweat from his forehead. 'There will be an explosion at any minute!'
Robson flicked his eyes up from the message he was reading.
'There will not be an explosion,' he said, confidently.
The Dutchman stared at Robson in total disbelief, and said, 'If you don't turn off the flow, there's no way you can avoid it!'
Robson lost his patience, turned his back on the Dutchman and yelled out to an engineer on the observation platform. 'Open Beach Release Valve, Section D. Full capacity!'
The engineer paused, unsure whether he had heard right.
Robson yelled again. 'Did you hear what I said?'
This time the engineer obeyed immediately, and started turning a valve wheel to release gas pressure in the specified section.
'What are you doing?' shouted van Lutyens. He was now convinced that Robson had completely misread the situation. 'You will never release enough gas in time!'
Robson's only reply was to turn with a sneering look at the Dutchman and say, 'D'you want to bet - Mr van Lutyens?'
The curtains were drawn in the Harrises' bedroom. Maggie was feeling much worse. Even though there was only a dim half-light in the room, she was lying flat on her back on the bed, covering her face with her hands, shielding her eyes from the light.
The silence was eventually broken by a gentle tapping sound, coming from the kitchen. The two maintenance controllers were clearly in the middle of their work on the gas cooker.
Maggie took her hands away from her face, and squinted. She again had a pounding headache. After lying there for a few minutes, she managed to summon up enough energy to pull herself up from the bed and cross the room. She sat down at the dressing table, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The shock was immediate. Not only was she looking very tired and drawn, but, in her mind's eye, she was beginning to age prematurely.
In the kitchen, Mr Oak and Mr Quill were carrying out their mock inspection of the gas cooker. Not a word passed between them.
Almost by word of command, the two men suddenly stopped work. They could hear the approach of the thumping, heartbeat sound. Both men looked at each other. Mr Oak smiled. It was time for the real work to begin.
Mr Oak stretched out his hand to the cooker, and turned on each one of the taps. As he did so, he noticed the strands of seaweed that were beginning to form on his hand and arm. Both he and Mr Quill reacted to this with a triumphant glow in their eyes. Again, Mr Oak smiled. Then he picked up a pair of white gloves, similar to those which Mr Quill was already wearing, and put them on. Then both men turned to look at the back patio door.
The thumping, heartbeat sound was becoming louder, and more intense.
Mr Quill went to the back door, and opened it. The noise was immediately deafening. Thumping. Pulsating. Shrieking. Hissing. On the kitchen patio outside, the clump of seaweed had expanded into a solid mass, engulfed in a sea of bubbling white foam.
Mr Oak and Mr Quill left the room, and went out into the hallway. As they did so, bubbling white foam began seeping over the kitchen step through the open door.
Maggie was still sitting at her dressing table, resting her head wearily between her hands. On a sudden impulse, she determined to pull herself together. Grabbing her comb, she started tidying her hair.
But as she looked up into the mirror, she gasped with a shocked start.
The silhouettes of two-figures were reflected there, standing behind her. Maggie swung round.
'What are you doing in here!' she yelled.
Mr Oak and Mr Quill did not reply. They remained absolutely still, just staring at Maggie.
Maggie looked terrified. She slowly rose, her back pressed against the mirror. 'You have no right to come into my
'You'll do nothing of the sort, Mr van Lutyens.'
'But the pressure is almost up to capacity,' warned van Lutyens, again mopping beads of sweat from his forehead. 'There will be an explosion at any minute!'
Robson flicked his eyes up from the message he was reading.
'There will not be an explosion,' he said, confidently.
The Dutchman stared at Robson in total disbelief, and said, 'If you don't turn off the flow, there's no way you can avoid it!'
Robson lost his patience, turned his back on the Dutchman and yelled out to an engineer on the observation platform. 'Open Beach Release Valve, Section D. Full capacity!'
The engineer paused, unsure whether he had heard right.
Robson yelled again. 'Did you hear what I said?'
This time the engineer obeyed immediately, and started turning a valve wheel to release gas pressure in the specified section.
'What are you doing?' shouted van Lutyens. He was now convinced that Robson had completely misread the situation. 'You will never release enough gas in time!'
Robson's only reply was to turn with a sneering look at the Dutchman and say, 'D'you want to bet - Mr van Lutyens?'
The curtains were drawn in the Harrises' bedroom. Maggie was feeling much worse. Even though there was only a dim half-light in the room, she was lying flat on her back on the bed, covering her face with her hands, shielding her eyes from the light.
The silence was eventually broken by a gentle tapping sound, coming from the kitchen. The two maintenance controllers were clearly in the middle of their work on the gas cooker.
Maggie took her hands away from her face, and squinted. She again had a pounding headache. After lying there for a few minutes, she managed to summon up enough energy to pull herself up from the bed and cross the room. She sat down at the dressing table, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The shock was immediate. Not only was she looking very tired and drawn, but, in her mind's eye, she was beginning to age prematurely.
In the kitchen, Mr Oak and Mr Quill were carrying out their mock inspection of the gas cooker. Not a word passed between them.
Almost by word of command, the two men suddenly stopped work. They could hear the approach of the thumping, heartbeat sound. Both men looked at each other. Mr Oak smiled. It was time for the real work to begin.
Mr Oak stretched out his hand to the cooker, and turned on each one of the taps. As he did so, he noticed the strands of seaweed that were beginning to form on his hand and arm. Both he and Mr Quill reacted to this with a triumphant glow in their eyes. Again, Mr Oak smiled. Then he picked up a pair of white gloves, similar to those which Mr Quill was already wearing, and put them on. Then both men turned to look at the back patio door.
The thumping, heartbeat sound was becoming louder, and more intense.
Mr Quill went to the back door, and opened it. The noise was immediately deafening. Thumping. Pulsating. Shrieking. Hissing. On the kitchen patio outside, the clump of seaweed had expanded into a solid mass, engulfed in a sea of bubbling white foam.
Mr Oak and Mr Quill left the room, and went out into the hallway. As they did so, bubbling white foam began seeping over the kitchen step through the open door.
Maggie was still sitting at her dressing table, resting her head wearily between her hands. On a sudden impulse, she determined to pull herself together. Grabbing her comb, she started tidying her hair.
But as she looked up into the mirror, she gasped with a shocked start.
The silhouettes of two-figures were reflected there, standing behind her. Maggie swung round.
'What are you doing in here!' she yelled.
Mr Oak and Mr Quill did not reply. They remained absolutely still, just staring at Maggie.
Maggie looked terrified. She slowly rose, her back pressed against the mirror. 'You have no right to come into my
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