Andy McDermott - The Midas Legacy

‘You really think you’ll be able to hold the world’s financial system to ransom?’ Lonmore said.

‘I do, my friend,’ the Greek replied. ‘I do.’

The group approached the pipe’s far end. The assembly that had been used to support boat parts for ion implantation had been shifted into a corner, replaced by a much larger and heavier box made of thick metal plates. The messiness of the welding suggested it had been put together at short notice. The container was open at the top, a hinged lid three inches thick raised by a heavy chain running to an electric hoist overhead.

More chains were slowly moving an object from the back of a flatbed truck into the imposing container.

The Crucible.

‘There it is,’ said Trakas proudly as Lonmore and his wife stared in amazement. Even Anastasia could not contain her wonder. ‘It will be filled with over a thousand litres of mercury. According to Fenrir’s theory, that much mercury should produce over twenty kilograms of gold. If it falls short, it does not matter; what matters is that any gold is produced at all.’

Eddie looked up at a man on a walkway who was filming the operation with a video camera. Other cameras were fixed upon stands around the accelerator, silently recording every moment. ‘And all this is to prove you’re not faking it, at a guess.’

‘Yeah,’ said Spencer. ‘Everything’s time-coded, so they’ll know we haven’t made any edits. My idea,’ he added smugly.

‘Bet you’re full of parental pride right now, aren’t you?’ Eddie said to Lonmore. The businessman’s disheartened expression served as his answer.

‘You will also be witnesses,’ added Trakas. ‘I hoped Dr Wilde could be here too — the testimony of the world’s most famous archaeologist would be hard to ignore.’

‘Then maybe you should’ve bloody gone back to get her,’ said the Yorkshireman angrily.

‘There were survivors, Mr Chase. With luck she was one. But she is not the only one who will be believed.’

They reached the end of the steel tube. By now, the Crucible had disappeared inside the container. The chains were detached from its cage and pulled clear by the hoist. The truck moved off to stop at a roller door nearby.

‘This containment chamber is my father’s design,’ Anastasia said of the box, with deep disapproval. She rounded on Spencer. ‘You stole that too?’

‘Why should it go to waste?’ he shot back. ‘The Legacy was never going to use the Crucible anyway. All you would have done was argue about it and block each other’s plans.’

Lonmore turned to his son. ‘I can’t believe you’ve betrayed the Legacy like this, Spencer,’ he said. ‘You’ve given away our secrets — and why? Out of spite?’

‘You know what I can’t believe, Dad?’ Spencer replied with an angry sneer. ‘That you’d kick me out — your own son! — so you could give my seat to some bimbo who worked as your secretary! Can you get any more clichéd?’

‘Don’t you dare call me that,’ hissed Petra. ‘And maybe if you hadn’t been an out-of-control spoiled brat, he wouldn’t have needed to kick you out!’

‘Now, now,’ Lonmore said, feebly trying to interpose himself between the pair. ‘That’s not really fair, Petra.’

‘Oh, so now you’re standing up for your ungrateful waster of a son rather than your own wife?’ she snapped. ‘He is spoiled, Spencer! That’s the only word for him! No, actually, I can think of quite a lot more, but I’ll keep them to myself. But if you hadn’t indulged him in absolutely everything he ever wanted, he might have taken more responsibility for his life instead of relying on you to bail him out!’

Spencer turned his back on the couple. ‘I’m not going to be lectured to by some gold-digger from the typing pool. But this is what happens when blood doesn’t stand by blood, isn’t it? Everything falls apart.’

‘That goes both ways,’ Lonmore said, clearly distressed by the argument.

The man with glasses, who was apparently in charge of technical matters, called out to Trakas. ‘We are ready to fill the Crucible,’ the mogul announced expectantly.

The procedure took some time, but the last of several drums of liquid mercury was finally emptied, its contents pumped into the Crucible. Trakas eagerly issued a command, and the container’s lid closed with a deep, reverberating clang. A rumbling sound came from machinery beside it as vacuum pumps drew out the air. The barrel-chested Greek ushered everyone back behind a free-standing concrete wall that on closer examination had a core of dense, dark metal. ‘Lead,’ he explained. ‘The case is a radiation shield, lined with more lead. It should hold in the radiation, but it is best to be safe, yes?’

The technician made final checks, then returned to the particle source and signalled to those at the far end of the accelerator. ‘We are ready to start!’ Trakas announced, now almost childishly excited. A shout to the cameraman, who gave him a thumbs-up from the walkway. ‘The cameras are rolling. We can begin!’ He turned to Eddie. ‘Thanks to your wife, Midas is about to save Greece. A pity she could not be here with us to witness this.’

The Yorkshireman eyed the armed guards. ‘Yeah, I bet she’d be loving it.’

Trakas waved to the technician. The factory’s overhead lights flickered as a basso hum came from the accelerator. It rose in pitch and volume. ‘When the power has built up, neutrons will be fired into the Crucible,’ he explained. ‘If your father’s theory is correct, Anastasia, when the neutrons trapped inside the Crucible reach a certain intensity, there will be a burst of radiation.’

‘That’s what happened in the Midas Cave,’ Eddie told the Icelander. Despite her angry mood, she nodded, intrigued by what was happening.

The electrical sound from the machine kept climbing. The technician called out again, closing a circuit with a clack loud enough to be heard even down the accelerator’s length. The lights flickered again, and a harsh droning buzz joined the noise. ‘The neutrons are being fired!’ said Trakas.

Even Petra was now engrossed. ‘How long will it take?’

‘I do not know.’ He looked at Eddie. ‘In the Midas Cave, how long?’

‘A few minutes,’ replied the Englishman. ‘But there was a pool that had to fill up with water before anything happened, so…’ He shrugged.

Trakas nodded. ‘We will know when the neutron burst comes. There is a radiation meter inside the box.’ He turned back to the accelerator, peering at it through a slot-like window of thick dark glass.

Eddie surreptitiously glanced at the others to see if they were equally transfixed. The guard’s attention seemed divided between the humming device and his charges… but as Eddie slowly turned his head towards Axelos, he realised the security chief was watching him closely from just beyond easy reach, his gun held ready. Having faced the former SAS man before, he was unwilling to give him a second chance at escape. The Yorkshireman gave him a sardonic look, then looked back at the machine.

A minute passed, more — then the sudden clamour of a bell made the onlookers jump. ‘Is that it?’ asked Lonmore.

‘Not yet, not yet,’ Trakas replied, eyes wide with anticipation. ‘But soon, very—’

Before he could finish speaking, a shrill siren sounded over the bell. The Greek whirled to look back along the accelerator, expression worried, but a shouted report from the technician quickly calmed him. ‘There is no radiation leak,’ he said.

‘Great,’ said Eddie, trying to cover his own relief. ‘I can take off my lead codpiece, then.’

‘Did it work?’ asked Spencer.