'I can understand that,' Driscoll said gently. 'I want to help.'
Wainewright shifted on his seat. His eyes looked vague and half-frightened.
'If only I could believe that...'
Driscoll showed a faint flicker of impatience. He cupped his big hands round his right kneecap and rocked himself to and fro.
'You have ample proof of it,' he pointed out. 'My very presence here. You know we are not supposed to meet off Watch.'
The point struck home; Wainewright narrowed his eyes and flinched back slightly, as though his companion had struck him. He made up his mind. He started to talk, breathing heavily between sentences, as though he were running.
'Deems knew,' he said. 'He was always talking about it. On Watch as well as off. He knew there was something.'
'Out There?' Driscoll prompted.
Wainewright nodded. He swallowed once or twice but realized he had to go on; he had committed himself, and it was too late to turn back.
'It started with Shaft Number 247. You didn't know that, did you?'
Driscoll stared at him. He shook his head. Wainewright smiled thinly.
'It was a well-kept secret. It's right on the edge of our section. It's a strange place. No one wants to say anything about it. The lighting system is always going there, so that the tunnels are often in semidarkness. There have been odd noises and movements in the shafts. Water has come through in one or two places, and some of the valves are rusting.'
Driscoll looked at Wainewright incredulously. He licked his lips, but there was the stamp of sincerity in the look he returned.
'It's perfectly true,' he said. 'Only none of the official reports refer to it. Special teams attend to it, and no formal records are kept.'
Driscoll stared at his companion in silence for a long moment.
'I take it you know what you're saying?'
Wainewright nodded. He kept his watery eyes fixed on the other.
'This thing has been with me for a long time. I know exactly what I'm saying. And I am choosing my words with care.'
Driscoll kept his bleak gaze fully ahead of him, not seeing Wainewright for the moment. His brain was heavy with dark thoughts.'Go on.'
Wainewright made a pathetic little flourishing movement with his hands.
'Did you know, for instance, that there have been breaks in the tunnel? Water in the shafts and, as I said, rust on the valves?'
'I find that difficult to believe.'
His voice sounded a little unsteady, even to himself. Wainewright permitted himself a shy, hesitant smile.
He stirred uneasily, his eyes searching Driscoll's face. 'You will not find it in the records. But he knew.' Driscoll's senses must have been a little dulled this afternoon. He looked blankly at Wainewright, the bland, smooth lighting of the room beating down on them, turning their figures to a pale butter yellow.
'Deems, of course,' Wainewright went on, as though a flood of emotion had been released from him.
'He was determined to know. He confided in me. The thing had been on his mind for some time. He was convinced there was something in the shafts. And Shaft Number 247 was the obvious...'
'Why obvious?' Driscoll interrupted.
Wainewright passed a bluish tongue across dry lips. 'Surely you must know that. It is the largest. It was the inspection tunnel years ago. When people went Out There to check on conditions.'
Driscoll was slightly irritated with himself; he put his hands round his kneecap again and rocked to and fro. Of course; he remembered now. He smiled confidently at his companion.
'The shaft with the inspection capsule? Is it still there?'
Wainewright shook his head.
'The authorities had it taken out. But the chamber still exists. And it would be no great thing to undo the bolts of the hatch.'
Driscoll was startled; he sat, his strong face immobile as he stared at Wainewright.
'Why would anyone want to do that?' Wainewright shrugged.
'Why would Deems want to go there? To find out. To increase the sum of human knowledge, of course. The movement in the shafts...'
Despite himself a slight chill had spread over Driscoll. He looked at the indicator on the bulkhead near where he sat, wondering if the temperature of the chamber had been altered. But it was quite normal.
His tone of voice was absolutely level when he spoke. 'What do you think is there, Wainewright?'
The watery blue eyes had a strange filmy expression in them.
'There is something... animate, shall we say. Something that wants to get in touch with us. Why should Shaft Number 247 leak, for example? The situation is almost unprecedented.'
Driscoll leaned forward, his eyes intent on the other's face.
'Why does Shaft Number 247 leak?'
Wainewright licked his lips again, and his eyes were dark and haunted as he stared back.
'Because something is turning the bolts from the other side,' he said simply.
'I think you had better tell me how Deems died,' said Driscoll quietly.
There was a sulphurous silence in the room now. Wainewright's eyes were like pale blue holes in the blankness of his face. He gestured towards the teapot. Driscoll declined with a brief shake of his head. He had to hold his impatience in check.'Deems?'
Wainewright passed his tongue over his lips again. 'He knew about Shaft 247, you see. He had found how to open it. There was a temporary fault on the circuits in that section. He went there unknown to the authorities. The place had a fascination for him.'
He paused again and looked at Driscoll. There was an imploring look on his face as though he were asking his companion for help he knew the latter was unable to give.
'How do you kr~ow this?'
'Deems was my best friend. It emerged over a long period. He had made up his mind, you see.'
Wainewright's eyes were closed now as though he
could no longer bear to look at Driscoll.'You mean to go Out There?'
Driscoll's voice was unsteady. Wainewright opened his eyes. For once they were sharp and unwavering. He nodded.
'He found life intolerable here. He could not adjust. And he had to discover what lay Outside. He made his plans carefully. But even I did not entirely realize his determination.'
Driscoll sat on in heavy silence. He was aware that it was dangerous to listen to Wainewright; that he had now become his confidant. That would be knowledge difficult to live with. He was becoming confused, which was a completely unknown quantity with him hitherto. Yet he had to find out more about Deems.
None of this showed on his face, which expressed only polite interest as he waited for his companion to continue. But Wainewright seemed to have become aware of the enormity of his conduct. For one did not talk like this, especially to persons of Driscoll's rank and calibre. Yet Wainewright was encouraged by the other's silence; by the calm, intent look on his face. He stirred on the chair opposite and then went on without hesitation, as though he had finally made up his mind.
'Deems came to see me before he went Out,' he said. 'He was more than usually agitated that night.
He called here just as you have called today, which was an equally extraordinary circumstance.'
'Did he tell you what he was going to do?' Wainewright shook his head.
'Hints only. But he was tremendously disturbed. More than I had ever seen before. He had studied the phenomena, you see. And it was fi~y conviction that he knew what was moving in the shafts Out There.' Wainewright cleared his throat nervously.
'He talked about wanting to be free. He was convinced contact was being made for some purpose.
That there was a benevolence... a peace...'
He fell silent for long moments. Driscoll felt the whole weight of the roof covering the miles of tunnels and galleries on his shoulders, pressing him downward into the black bowels of the earth. It was a feeling completely alien to him and he did not like it.
'What happened that night? When the alarm bells rang?'
'I relieved Deems,' Wainewright went on. 'He appeared quite normal. We exchanged no formal word.