How hot?
Quickly, boy!"
"Ah canna touch the after bulkheid, sir," McQuater answered simply. "It 'ud tak 'the fingers aff me."
"But the sprinklers-what's the matter with them?" Vallery shouted. "Aren't they working?
Good God, boy, the magazine will go up any minute!"
"Aye." McQuater's voice was noncommittal. "Aye, Ah kinna thought that might be the wey o' it.
No, sir, the sprinklers arena workin'-and it's akeady 20 degrees above the operatin' temperature, sir."
"Don't just stand there," Vallery said desperately. "Turn them on by hand!
The water in the sprinklers can't possibly be frozen if it's as hot as you say it is.
Hurry, man, hurry.
If the mag. goes up, the Ulysses is finished.
For God's sake, hurry!"
"Ah've tried them, sir," McQuater said softly. "It's nae bluidy use.
They're solid!"
"Then break them open!
There must be a tommy bar lying about somewhere.
Smash them open, man!
Hurry!"
"Aye, richt ye are, sir.
But-but if Ah do that, sir, how am Ah to shut the valves aff again?" There was a note almost of quiet desperation in the boy's voice, some trick of reproduction in the amplifier, Vallery guessed.
"You can't! It's impossible!
But never mind that!" Vallery said impatiently, his voice ragged with anxiety. "We'll pump it all out later.
Hurry, McQuater, hurry!"
There was a brief silence followed by a muffled shout and a soft thud, then they heard a thin metallic clanging echoing through the amplifier, a rapid, staccato succession of strokes. McQuater must have been raining a veritable hail of blows on the valve handles.
Abruptly, the noise ceased.
Vallery waited until he heard the phone being picked up, called anxiously:
"Well, how is it?
Sprinklers all right?"
"Goin' like the clappers, sir." There was a new note in his voice, a note of pride and satisfaction. "Ah've just crowned Barker wi' the tommy bar," he added cheerfully.
"You've wharf"
"Laid oot old Barker," said McQuater distinctly. "He tried to stop me.
Windy auld bastard.... Ach, he's no' worth mentionin'... My they sprinklers are grand things, sir.
Ah've never seen them workin' before.
Place is ankle deep a'ready.
And the steam's fair sizzlin' aff the bulkheid!"
"That's enough!" Vallery's voice was sharp. "Get out at once, and make sure that you take Barker with you."
"Ah saw a picture once.
In the Paramount in Glasgow, Ah think.
Ah must've been flush." The tone was almost conversational, pleasurably reminiscent.
Vallery exchanged glances with Turner, saw that he too, was fighting off the feeling of unreality. "Rain, it was cried.
But it wasnae hauf as bad as this.
There certainly wisnae hauf as much bluidy steam!
Talk aboot the hothouse in the Botanic Gardens!" "McQuater!" Vallery roared. "Did you hear me?
Leave at once, I say!
At once, do you hear?"
"Up to ma knees a'ready!" McQuater said admiringly. "It's gey cauld.... Did you say somethin' sir?"
"I said, 'Leave at once!'" Vallery ground out. "Get out!"
"Aye, Ah see.'
Get oot.' Aye.
Ah thought that was what ye said. Get oot.