“Then I’m going to shift that cover.”
“You’ll never move it.”
“I can, and I will.”
“It took two men on a winch to move it, and even if you could...they might still be there, waiting.”
I said: “No. With a dead body hanging up there, they’ll get clear as soon as they can. At a guess, if we’d arrived five minutes later, we’d have missed them. And I wouldn’t have liked that at all.”
“What? For God’s sake!”
I said: “That was Major Loveless, the man I came here to find. Well, now I’ve found him, haven’t I?”
I knew that her silence was a rebuke. I said: “Well, at least I know what he looks like now. Don’t worry too much, we’re not going to stay here forever.”
She thought for a while. I heard her squeal when the mass under her feet heaved, and she clutched at me tightly. She said: “That cover must weigh a ton.”
“It was roughly five feet by three, and about eight inches thick. Say, eleven cubic feet. If it’s reinforced Portland, which it probably is, then a cubic foot weighs a hundred and forty pounds. So we have a matter of fifteen hundred and forty pounds to worry about. Not easy. Not impossible either.”
There was still time to wait out. I said: “Or look at it like this—the rope was on a standard sheave pulley, which has a mechanical advantage of a trifle under one to six. If an average man can comfortably move two hundred pounds, then the pulley system presupposes about twelve hundred pounds total weight. You noticed that the two men were hauling on it with no effort at all, so that makes our reckoning probably about right, wouldn’t you say?”
She shrugged. “No man alive can lift that much.”
I said: “We don’t have to lift it. I need a six-inch rock and maybe a stick if we can find one.”
My casual tone was having the right effect. She began to laugh suddenly, then stopped and squealed again, the squeal turning into a shriek. I felt her trying to climb all over me, and she said, aghast: “They’re biting me.”
“It’s your imagination. There’s too much good food down there for them. They’re not going to bother with your feet. Now, hold still and wait for me.”
“Wait for you?”
I took a deep breath and ducked under the water. My hands clutched at lobsters, dozens of them, feeling the powerful flap of their tails as they shot out of my way, forcing their way through the crowd, thrashing about madly in their fear. I groped around for a big enough stone, and couldn’t find exactly what I wanted, so I had to make do with something a trifle smaller than I would have liked. But I turned up a stone at last about the size of my fist, came up for air and handed it to her.
“Hold this. Step one,” I said.
Then I went back under and groped around for a stick, a piece of old lumber, anything that might serve the purpose I had in mind; there was nothing. I came up again at last and said:
“Well, we’ll manage without.”
I put my feet wide apart, kicking aside lobsters to get a firm footing, and reached up with both hands flat and widespread dead center on the underside of the cover; and I pushed.
The slab was absolutely immobile. I pushed until my arms were aching from the effort, and then shifted my position and tried again. I put my palms at the extreme edge of the slab, knowing that here there’d be the question of leverage to help me; one edge of twelve hundred pounds weighs less than its whole. It would not budge, even though all I had to do was tip it a trifle.
I relaxed and took a breather, the sweat running down my body and mixing with the salt water, and then I went under again and groped around with both hands among those damned shellfish till I found a large boulder that was loose and seemed to be about the right size. It was flattish, and about two feet thick, and not impossible to lever into position under the water. I got my shoulder under it and shoved, and felt it move. And then, slowly, laboriously, I rolled it over on its side, feeling Astrid’s long slim legs in the way (her feet hopping now and then among the lobsters). I came up and said:
“Move over a bit, well to the left, I’m rolling a rock around down there.”
When she’d moved away, squealing again, I went down once more and rolled the rock heavily over onto its side. It settled into place with a rumble, and I came up, gasping for air, and stood on it. And now, I was eighteen inches or so higher, and the slab above was close enough to make me bend my shoulders. Just what I wanted; with my shoulders I can move the earth itself.
I bent my legs, put my hands on my knees, put my right shoulder under the edge of the slab, and slowly straightened my legs. I felt the slab move, just a trifle. I let it fall into place again, eased my position, and said to Astrid, quite happily now:
“Now it’s up to you. Climb up round my waist, put your arms round my neck, wrap your legs tight around me, and hang onto that rock I gave you. When I tell you, shove the stone into the opening—it’ll wedge the slab open just enough.”
She reached up and clambered up me, holding her- self tight in the position I had given her. I felt long legs locking themselves at my waist. I said: “Keep your head out of my way, twist over to the side a little”
She did as I told her, and I put my shoulder back under the edge of the slab and once more began to straighten up. The edge tilted slightly and hung there; I pushed some more, laboring against it. And then the damned rock down there heeled over and slipped, and we both fell, foundering, into the water. Above our heads, the slab thundered home again with a roar to wake the dead.
She waited, Astrid, while I submerged again and set the boulder once more into position; the smell of crushed lobster was overpowering now, and I fancied I could hear them tearing at the dead flesh of their fellows down there; well, at least it would keep them away from Astrid’s toes.
We got back into position, and I started again. The edge went up slowly, more and more, till it cleared the lip and a rush of cold air came suddenly through it. I pushed harder, raising my hands and adding the effort of my biceps. Astrid was already fumbling with the stone, trying to get it into the gap. She said excitedly: “A little more, an inch or two...”
I straightened up fully, and now there was a four inch space between the edge of the cover and the lip of the opening. I said: “Now! Make sure it’s steady.” She held the stone in position while I gently bent my legs and lowered the slab once more. It stayed firmly wedged on the stone she had put there, leaving a gap wide enough for a thin arm to reach through. I took hold of her by the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up higher, and said: “Now, reach through there and feel around for the rope, it’s there somewhere.”
She reached out and groped about, and said disconsolately: “It’s probably on the other side, if it’s there at all.”
I said: “No, it’s not on the other side, why do you think I opened up this edge and not the opposite one? The winch is well off-center, on that side, and that rope’s got to be within easy reach. That’s what I wanted a stick for, but we don’t have one, so quit cribbing about it and reach for it.” I could feel her straining, catching her breath, and I said: “My arm’s longer but it won’t go through that gap very far, so if you can’t find it I’ll have to find a bigger stone and we’ll start over.”
She said suddenly: “I’ve got it!” She reached out far, half her slim shoulder disappearing through the opening. She said impatiently: “Dammit, missed.”
I was wondering if there was still someone out there, watching with a kind of interested amusement, ready to kick the stone out of the way and crush her arm with the heavy slab; I wished I’d been able to find a bigger wedge that would have allowed me to do the groping myself. But it was dark up there; the lights had been switched off, and that meant they’d probably gone.
She said triumphantly: “Got it!” and in a moment she dragged the free end of the winch rope down through the opening.
I said: “All right, climb down again and leave me some room.”
She slipped lithely down me, clutching at my waist as she landed among the lobsters, and said: “I’ll never eat another one as long as I live.”
Grabbing the end of the swinging rope, I said: “Personally, I’d like to take a few of them home for us, what do you say?”
