Heaven's Door by Michael Knaggs

conference. When can I call you? Sometime between midday and two would be good.”
    â€œOne o’clock then.” Her voice was quiet and soft.
    â€œOne o’clock,” he repeated.

    *
    â€œHi, Grace, how are you?”
    â€œOkay,” she replied. “And guess what. I think Brown has settled his differences and made his peace with his wonderful, hyphenated wife. Isn’t that
marvellous
?”
    â€œWell, actually, I think it is. Like someone’s just removed the fuse from a powder-keg, don’t you think? The party’s champion of the family unit. Wouldn’t help the cause much if he split with his wife. It appears that he’s a giant step away from his kids already. Good news, I’d say.”
    There was silence for a few moments.
    â€œI guess,” said Grace, sounding thoroughly miserable.
    â€œOh, come on, Grace. You’re not getting too close are you? It’s a job, that’s all.”
    â€œI guess,” she said again, ending the call.

    *

    The three men on the bridge watched with breathless awe as they approached the gargantuan structure in the hazy early morning light.
    â€œYour turn to give us the tour, Mike,” said Calum. “How the hell does this thing come to exist?”
    It was so massive that they all thought they had almost reached it long before they were anywhere close, and the platform just grew and grew before their eyes, drawing them towards it until the wonder gave way to a collective feeling of unease.
    â€œWell, you can see now what it
was
,” said Mike. He pointed to its four giant cylindrical columns. “It started life as an oil and gas production platform, the largest off-shore installation the world had ever seen.”
    The door behind them opened.
    â€œMorning,” said Lawrence. “Nearly there, I guess. Christ!” His eyes opened wide as he saw their destination in front of them. “That’s … frightening.”
    â€œYou’re just in time for the lecture, Mr Harding” said Douglas. “Go on, Mike.”
    Mike nodded a greeting to Lawrence and continued.
    â€œEach column has a diameter of eighty feet and rises 300 feet above the waterline. The area they support used to be the platform’s production deck, now what we call the main recreational deck, which is one hundred and sixty yards square, that’s just over five acres.”
    â€œAnd what’s below the waterline?” asked Calum. “Not that much, I’m told.”
    â€œCertainly not as much as you might think. The columns extend down a further hundred feet to a huge pontoon – like an enormous square dough-nut – which joins them together below the surface like the deck does above it. The whole thing is what’s called a semi-submersible design, which provides a lower centre of gravity and more stability.”
    â€œIt couldn’t look
less
stable if you ask me,” said Lawrence. “Why doesn’t it bounce about?”
    â€œWell, it’s anchored by sixteen deepwater chains and a number of wire mooring lines. And in case you’re still not convinced, it was originally designed to survive a once-in-a-hundred-year storm, and withstand the hurricanes and ocean currents of the Gulf of Mexico. That’s where it had been in operation for its working lifetime, until your friend at the Home Office acquired it.”
    â€œAmazing,” said Calum. “So tell us how it got from being that to being this.”
    â€œI’m glad you asked,” said Mike, “because what I’ve told you so far had nothing to do with me.”
    They smiled and Mike continued.
    â€œBy the time your lot had won the election,” he nodded at Lawrence again, “I’d already presented the basic design. It was nothing special, really; just an apartment complex designed to fit on a five-acre site. The big challenge was timescale. Mr Brown – bless him – had promised