LITMIR.BIZ

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Hope somebody's got a camera. Now here he is," a pause. "Sir Hugo Drax."

      Bond looked into Gala's dripping face. Soaked and bleeding they stood in each other's arms, speechless and trembling slightly with the storm of their emotions. Their eyes were blank and fathomless as they met and held each other's gaze.

      "Your majesty, men and women of England," the voice was a velvet snarl. "I am about to change the course of England's history." A pause. "In a few minutes' time the lives of all of you will be altered, in some cases, ahem, drastically, by the, er, impact of the Moonraker. I am very proud and pleased that fate has singled me out, from amongst all my fellow countrymen, to fire this great arrow of vengeance into the skies and thus to proclaim for all time, and for all the world to witness, the might of my fatherland. I hope that this occasion will be forever a warning that the fate of my country's enemies will be written in dust, in ashes, in tears, and," a pause, "in blood. And now thank you all for listening and I sincerely hope that those of you who are able will repeat my words to your children, if you have any, tonight."

      A rattle of rather hesitant applause sounded out of the machine and then came the breezy voice of the announcer. "And that was Sir Hugo Drax saying a few words to you before he walks across the floor of the firing point to the switch on the wall which will fire the Moonraker. The first time he has spoken in public. Very, ahem, forthright. Doesn't mince his words. However, a lot of us will say there's no harm in that. And now it's time for me to hand over to the expert, Group Captain Tandy of the Ministry of Supply, who will describe to you the actual firing of the Moonraker. After that you will hear Peter Trimble in one of the naval security patrol, HMS Merganzer, describe the scene in the target area. Group Captain Tandy."

      Bond glanced at his watch. "Only a minute more," he said to Gala. "God, I'd like to get my hands on Drax. Here," he reached for the cake of soap and gouged some pieces off it. "Stuff this in your ears when the time comes. The noise is going to be terrific, I don't know about the heat. It won't last long and the steel walls may stand up to it."

      Gala looked at him. She smiled. "If you hold me it won't be too bad," she said.

      "...and now Sir Hugo has his hand on the switch and he's watching the chronometer."

      "TEN," broke in another voice, heavy and sonorous as the toll of a bell.

      Bond turned on the shower and the water hissed down on their clinging bodies.

      "NINE," tolled the voice of the time-keeper.

      "...the radar operators are watching the screens. Nothing but a mass of wavy lines...."

      "EIGHT."

      "...all wearing ear-plugs. Blockhouse should be indestructable. Concrete walls are twelve feet thick. Pyramid roof, twenty-seven feet thick at the point..."

      "SEVEN."

      "...first the radio beam will stop the time mechanism alongside the turbines. Set the pinwheel going. Flaming thing like a Catherine wheel...."

      "SIX."

      "...valves will open. Liquid fuel. Secret formula. Terrific stuff. Dynamite. Pours down from the fuel tanks..."

      "FIVE."

      "...ignited by the pinwheel when the fuel gets to the rocket motor...."

      "FOUR."

      "...meanwhile the peroxide and permanganate have mixed, made steam and the turbine pumps begin to turn..."

      "THREE."

      "...pumping the flaming fuel through the motor out of the stern of the rocket into the exhaust pit. Gigantic heat...3500 degrees...."

      "TWO."

      "...Sir Hugo is about to press the switch. He's staring out through the slit. Perspiration on his forehead. Absolute silence in here. Terrific tension."

      "ONE."

      Nothing but the noise of the water, steadily pouring down on the two clinging bodies.

      FIRE!

      Bond's heart jumped into his throat at the shout. He felt Gala shudder. Silence. Nothing but the hissing of the water....

      "...Sir Hugo's left the firing point. Walking calmly over to the edge of the cliff. So confident. He's stepped on to the hoist. He's going down. Of course. He must be going out to the submarine. Television screen shows a little steam coming out of the tail of the rocket. A few more seconds. Yes, he's out on the jetty. He looked back and raised his arm in the air. Good old Sir Hu..."

      A soft thunder came to Bond and Gala. Louder. Louder. The tiled floor began to tremble under their feet. A hurricane scream. They were being pulverized by it. The walls were quaking, steaming. Their legs began going out of control under their teetering bodies. Hold her up. Hold her up. Stop it! Stop it!! STOP THAT NOISE!!!

      Christ, he was going to faint. The water was boiling. Must turn it off. Got it. No. Pipe's burst. Steam, smell, iron, paint.

      Get her out! Get her out!! Get her out!!!

      And then there was silence. Silence you could feel, hold, squeeze. And they were on the floor of Drax's office. Only the light in the bathroom still shining out. And the smoke's clearing. And the filthy smell of burning iron and paint. Being sucked out by the air-conditioner. And the steel wall is bent towards them like a huge blister. Gala's eyes are open and she's smiling. But the rocket. What happened? London? North Sea? The radio. Looks all right. He shook his head and the deafness slowly cleared. He remembered the soap. Gouged it out.

      "...through the sound barrier. Travelling perfectly right in the centre of the radar screen. A perfect launching. Afraid you couldn't hear anything because of the noise. Terrific. First of all the great sheet of flame coming out of the cliff from the exhaust pit and then you should have seen the nose slowly creep up out of the dome. And there she was like a great silver pencil. Standing upright on this huge column of flame and slowly climbing into the air and the flame splashing for hundreds of yards over the concrete. The howl of the thing must have nearly burst our microphones. Great bits have fallen off the cliff and the concrete looks like a spider's web. Terrible vibration. And then she was climbing faster and faster. A hundred miles an hour. A thousand. And," he broke off, "what's that you say? Really! And now she's travelling at over ten thousand miles an hour! She's three hundred miles up. Can't hear her any more, of course. We could only see her flame for a few seconds. Like a star. Sir Hugo must be a proud man. He's out there in the Channel now. The submarine went off like a rocket, haha, must be doing more than thirty knots. Throwing up a huge wake. Off the East Goodwins now. Travelling north. She'll soon be up with the patrol ships. They'll have a view of the launching and of the landing. Quite a surprise trip that. No one here had an inkling. Even the naval authorities seem a bit mystified. C-in-C Nore has been on the telephone. But now that's all I can tell you from here and I'll hand you over to Peter Trimble on board HMS Merganzer somewhere off the East Coast."

      Nothing but the pumping lungs showed that the two limp bodies in the creeping pool of water on the floor were still alive, but their battered ear-drums were desperately clinging to the crackle of static that came briefly from the blistered metal cabinet. Now for the verdict on their work.

      "And this is Peter Trimble speaking. It's a beautiful morning, I mean--er--afternoon here. Just north of the Goodwin Sands. Calm as a millpond. No wind. Bright sunshine. And the target area is reported clear of shipping. Is that right, Commander Edwards? Yes, the Captain says it's quite clear. Nothing on the radar screens yet. I'm not allowed to tell you the range we shall pick her up at. Security and all that. But we shall only catch the rocket for a split second. Isn't that right, Captain? But the target's just showing on the screen. Out of sight from the bridge, of course. Must be seventy miles north of here. We could see the Moonraker going up. Terrific sight. Noise like thunder. Long flame coming out of the tail. Must have been ten miles away but you couldn't miss the light. Yes, Captain? Oh yes, I see. Well, that's very interesting. Big submarine coming up fast. Only about a mile away. Suppose it's the one they say Sir Hugo's aboard with his men. None of us here were told anything about her. Captain Edwards says she doesn't answer the Aldis lamp. Not flying colours. Very mysterious. I've got her now. Quite clear in my

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