The Tower

Another diver pulled Mills from the Hole by his hairy arms and flopped him on his stomach. Mills's hair stood out against his pale blue flesh. His naked back was humped like a buffalo's.

"Must be fun getting the cells unlocked underwater," Jade said. "Then pulling the bodies up."

"You shoulda seen the first ones, Marlow." Walker circled his head and shoulders with his damp cigar. "Head trauma from the force of the water." He shook his head.

"Look, Warden, I know you're tired-"

"Marlow, the past forty-three hours have been a bigger pain in the ass than hemorrhoids. I got two guards dead. I got sixteen prisoners drowned, one in lockdown, and one on the loose. Not to mention the fact that I'm gonna lose my standing at the Warden Hall of Fame. So yes, I'm fuckin' tired."

He looked over at the divers, who were resting at the side of the Hole. "Move your asses. We got eight more bodies that need to be up before we roll the pumps. I'd like to get home while my wife still recognizes me."

He walked away, speaking to Jade over his shoulder. "We had to bring in outside pumps-the internal ones can't get out from under that much water."

Jade stepped in front of him. "All right, Walker. Give me a quick tour and I'll be out of your hair."

"My hair?" Walker rammed the cigar back in his mouth and placed a thick hand on Jade's shoulder. "Come on, hotshot. Let's peek at the sunken treasures."

He took Jade around the top of the Tower, his voice gruff as he explained guard procedures, equipment use, and prisoner containment mechanisms. In about twenty minutes he had given Jade a full summary of the Tower's operating procedures.

The other workers and guards glanced over at Jade from time to time. Even though he was quietly listening to Walker, Jade had a very loud presence. His eyes were penetrating; they seemed to pick apart the disaster site, noting and filing clues invisible to everyone else.

Walker finally wound up his procedural review and his account of what had happened during Allander's break.

"The survivor. What's his story?"

"Claude Rivers. Typical Boy Scout-mass murderer, postmortem fornication with his mother's headless corpse. We pulled him out safely. He's in lockdown at Maingate, but we're gonna get him back in here as soon as possible."

"Even during evacuation?"

"Peter Briggs's direct orders," Walker said. "Called up in typical fashion, ranting and raving, saying his prison wasn't gonna be shut down by some psychopath, even if it meant keeping the Tower up and running for one prisoner. Don't matter anyways. I'd prefer to have Rivers here. Tower prisoners are a different breed. You might think this place was built for them, but it wasn't. They were built for it." He gazed at Claude's submerged cell. "Won't eat up much manpower, having Rivers back here. One guard could handle it."

"He talk? Rivers?"

"No. Literally. Not a peep since we stuck him in here in '96." Walker groaned, putting his hands on his sides and arching to stretch his back. "There's one thing that's just not sitting right with this, Marlow. How the hell did Allander get Hackett? I came up with Hackett. He could eat scrap metal and shit bullets."

"Must've got him from behind. Swept his legs or took out a knee."

"No, no," Walker replied. "Knee was fine." Using his tongue, he brought his cigar to his front teeth, straining his mouth to breathe around it. "How the hell'd he fool Hackett to get behind him?" he asked himself, looking down at the moist stone.

"Maybe we'll find out from the TV movie," Jade said.

Walker shook his head, then went to the shed to call for a speedboat. Jade followed, waiting as a man rolled another drum of diesel fuel over to the enormous water pump.

A diver came over and met them at the door. He pointed at the levers that controlled the vents. "Warden, I just wanted to let you know that these levers move automatically when the vents open. They could have… I mean, something could have pushed the vents open from the outside. Like they could've just given way or something. Are you sure Atlasia did it?"

Walker turned around, rolling his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. He looked at the diver, then at Jade, then back at the diver. "Did Rose Kennedy have a black dress? The odds of a spontaneous implosion with such impeccable timing are fairly low, I would have to say. Yes, we're sure. Would you not agree, Marlow?"

Jade bit his lip to keep from smiling. "Yes, I would."

The diver blushed, retreating to the Hole.

Walker chomped on his cigar. "You see the shit I've been wading through here? I'm getting screwed six ways from Sunday, Marlow." He sighed deeply. "Problems. We've got problems."