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New York Deep
New York Deep Read online
New York Deep
by
Andrew J. Morgan
Copyright © Andrew J. Morgan
http://www.andrewjamesmorgan.com
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 1
'So how long have you been involved in the project then?'
Josh didn't have to think long about the answer. The tunnels had been his place of work for so long they felt like home. 'Since 2008.'
The executive beamed, his white hair and even whiter shirt gleaming in contrast to the dirty hi-vis vest and scuffed hard hat. 'You've been here since the beginning then?'
'Since they broke ground.'
'And are you enjoying it?'
'It's got its ups and downs, you know.'
The executive turned to his assistant and nodded. 'We need more workers like Mr., uh—sorry, please tell me your name again? I'm quite forgetful these days. I do apologize.'
'Josh. Josh Reed.'
The executive smiled. 'Like Mr. Reed here.'
His assistant nodded, then looked up and around the enormous rocky, cathedral-like space, which dwarfed the workers coming off shift from the tunnels. 'How long did it take to dig all this out then?' he asked.
Josh took in the familiar sight, reliving in an instant the memories that had got him this far. 'This staging area took about three months. The ground is soft up here; it's easy to dig.'
'Fascinating,' the executive said, his assistant nodding his appreciation. 'Absolutely fascinating.'
Josh's supervisor, Lionel Parker, who had been standing back in the shadows somewhat, ushered the executive forward. 'If you'd like to come down these steps, we'll take the train over to the dig site.'
'Ah!' the executive said with joy. 'We've got trains down here already, have we? And they all said we'd never have anything running to deadline.'
The executive's assistant and Lionel both laughed politely with the executive, but Josh did not. As he followed the others down the steel frame stairs, deeper into the cavernous rocky arena, he threw a glare at Lionel, who mouthed, 'I'm sorry . . .'
On a project like this, with the size and scale and with as many unknowns as there were, every second was precious, and spending them escorting some office-dwelling executive tourist was seconds lost. Josh's team were hard at work, sure, but he needed to be there to make the decisions when they came across the inevitable next problem.
At the base of the stairs, a rudimentary platform led to a small, industrial haulage engine, set loose of its trucks. They boarded one by one, squeezing into the tight cab, ready to leave the calm and cool air of the open cavern and head into the tunnels.
Josh gave the train some juice; the wheels squealed, then bit, hauling its mass forward.
'So how exactly do you dig such a large hole?' the executive asked, peering out of the small, dirty windows. 'The drill must be enormous!'
Lionel gave Josh a nod to tell him to answer. Josh considered pretending he hadn't seen it.
'Well,' he said, wishing he were anywhere but in this train with this man, 'because the East Side Access bores straight through Manhattan—'
'Right along 63rd Street,' Lionel added, smiling politely.
'—there's no room to drop in a drill as big as we'd need. Normally we'd use the one big one, but space requirements have forced us to use a smaller drill to bore four separate holes that are combined to make the one big one instead.'
'And what happens to the middle part, the core?'
Even from his tone, Josh could tell the executive was enthralled. 'We blow the shit out of it—'
'Josh!' Lionel barked.
The executive was chuckling. 'That's okay,' he said. 'I don't mind a little blue-collar talk when the time's right.'
It was Lionel's turn to throw Josh a glare. 'Well, okay then,' he said.
'So you detonate it,' the executive continued, 'right under the city, under everyone . . . fascinating.'
Josh allowed himself a small grin. Maybe this guy was all right. There weren't many people who found what he did interesting. 'They don't even feel a thing.'
'Fascinating, absolutely fascinating . . .'
As they passed from the main cavern into one of the four smaller tunnels, the air whipped around them. It felt immediately stuffier, warmer, like they were driving down the throat of a beast. Lights, fed by wire strung between them, rolled past one by one, ever day and yet ever night. There was no sun down here.
'You said there was easy rock to drill,' the executive said. 'I take it that means there's harder rock to drill, too?'
Josh was starting to regret branding this old guy as quickly as he had. 'Yeah, absolutely. New York City has several bands of what we call Manhattan schist running through it. It's really hard stuff, a shale of gray quartz and white orthoclase. Millions of years of compression have turned it into one hard f— . . . one hard material.'
'Is that so?'
'Absolutely. You can see it above ground in Central Park, great big boulders of the stuff. It runs through there, and also through downtown. That's why all the skyscrapers are built in those areas, because the ground's so solid. And we have to get through it, me and the team. It's so hard that sometimes we'll only get through a few feet in a day. The guys have to work together like clockwork to get even that much done.'
'Fascinating. Isn't this fascinating, Henry?'
The executive's assistant, who Josh had now learned was called Henry, nodded. 'Very much so.' His tone didn't quite match his sentiment.
'Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud,' the executive said. 'Your salary wouldn't be quite so generous if it weren't for these boys working so hard down here.'
Now Josh couldn't help but grin. He kept facing forward, watching the track as he ushered the train down the tunnel he and his team had bored, feeling a bubble of pride well up inside him. He didn't have to turn to know what kind of a face Henry was making right about now.
'Are you married, Mr. Reed?' the executive said, all of a sudden.
Josh twiddled the ring on his left hand reflexively. 'I was.'
'Oh, I'm sorry. A clumsy question.'
'It's all right,' Josh reassured him. 'It was mutual. What were you going to say?'
'Well, if it's proper,' the executive said, his commanding tone a little muted.
'It's fine. No problem.'
'I was going to say, if I can be so bold, that it sounds like your relationship with your team in these tunnels is like a marriage: you work together through the good times, but you work even more closely through the tough. It's the only way to make it stick.'
'Couldn't have put it better myself,' Josh said.
'I really didn't mean any offense by it.'
'None taken, really.'
The train fell into quiet as Josh began to slow. They were approaching the end of the track, and he needed to focus. It was dangerous down h
ere, and it was no fooling matter. He pulled up to a stop, and disembarked first.
'If you can all please keep to this gangway,' he asked, gesturing to the rope-linked posts along the edge of the tunnel. He led them on, taking in the rich stench of earth and rock, feeling the damp air cling to his coveralls. It was a different world in here, even compared to the cavern, and it made him feel alive.
'It's very quiet,' the executive said. 'Is the drill running?'
'Not yet,' Lionel said. 'It's not due to start until the next shift in five minutes. We're just in time to see it.'
'The guys are lining the tunnel where it was bored out earlier,' Josh added. 'We weld steel plates into place to maintain the structural integrity of the rock.'
The tunnel curved ahead, and as they began to round it, the sound of busy, intense chatter became apparent. With it came the sight of five men hauling a curved piece of steel into place—one man on the chain pulley, two holding the steel steady, another guiding it in and the last waiting to weld. As Josh and the others walked, they watched this coordinated dance of teamwork and hard labor, an effort that seemed almost elegant in its performance. Behind, the ominous oil and dust-stained steel of the drill filled the tunnel.
'Cover your eyes,' Josh warned as the welder kicked a spark bright and blue. It was the last piece of steel, right on time. 'Good work, guys,' Josh called out to his team. 'Are we ready to roll at ten?'
The man who'd been guiding the steel turned to Josh, and they clapped hands together, gripping tight by way of greeting. 'For sure. Last steel just went in.'
'Thanks, Craig. Good job.'
'Who are these guys?' Craig asked.
'Oh yeah, we've got some guests. Say hi.' Josh gestured to his party.
'Hi.'
Lionel, who was somewhere between apoplectic and terrified, took the lead. 'Mr. Miller'—so that's his name, Josh thought—'please meet Craig Anderson, Senior Tunnel Engineer on this project, and Josh's right-hand man.'
'Pleasure,' the executive—Mr. Miller—said, holding out a hand.
Craig held back, glancing at Josh, who nodded him on. Craig took Mr. Miller's hand and shook it. 'Pleased to meet you,' he said.
'We've also got Steve Carter, Robert Jackson, Douglas Moore and Carlos Garcia,' Lionel continued, each man waving in turn.
'I'm very pleased to meet all of you, and I'm also very much looking forward to seeing the drill in action,' Mr. Miller said, 'even if that soppy towel over there'—he pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Henry, who was actually pouting—'isn't.'
'We'd be glad to show you,' Craig said.
Behind Mr. Miller's back, Lionel gave two thumbs up and a nervous grin.
'We'll have to get back behind the safety line though,' Josh said. 'There's over a hundred tungsten carbide teeth spinning around faster than a big block Chevy on that drill, and your hi-vis vest isn't going to do shit if something goes wrong.'
Craig muffled a snicker with the back of his hand.
'Sounds like some dangerous shit,' Mr. Miller said, taking a step back. 'I'll stand where you need me.'
Craig was clearly surprised by the old man's language. 'This guy's all right,' he said, pointing at him. Lionel looked close to having a heart attack.
Smiles fell, and it was game time. Josh led his troupe behind the safety line along with the nonessential staff, while Craig and another stayed with the drill, performing the start-up checks. The diesel engine chugged into life, loud and unsilenced, and Mr. Miller instinctively put his fingers in his ears.
'You think this is loud,' Josh shouted over the rumbling idle, 'you wait until it gets chewing at that schist.'
Craig gave a thumbs-up, which Josh returned. He pulled the ear defenders down on his hard hat before pointing to those on Mr. Miller's, which he pulled down too. A grinding whirr, then an almighty bang filled the tunnel, making Henry jump. It settled into a deep howl as the tungsten carbide teeth bit and began to chew. The rumble underfoot hummed in their limbs and swelled all around them. Such power, to grind up nature's biggest, toughest opposition only a few feet at a time. It gave Josh an immense admiration for the rock underfoot. It was his best friend, and his worst enemy.
After a while, the vibration and the drone became too much for Mr. Miller, and he signaled that he'd like to leave. Around the corner, the noise had dulled enough to remove their ear defenders, and the party of four could talk again.
'Well, I have a newfound appreciation for the work you do,' Mr. Miller said, offering Josh a handshake. 'It's a gigantic undertaking.'
'Thanks,' Josh said, taking and shaking. 'I appreciate the opportunity to be part of this huge project. It's one to tell my boy about when he's old enough to understand.'
'I expect he'll be very proud.'
Josh was about to speak again when an almighty screech filled the air, wailing and gnashing. Then it fell silent, the thrum and rumble of the drill, too. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good. The drill was only stopped if they hit something unexpected or unfamiliar, and that sounded both unexpected and unfamiliar.
'I'm sorry, Mr. Miller, but duty calls,' Josh said hurriedly.
Mr. Miller looked concerned. 'Is everything all right?'
'I sure hope so. Lionel, could you escort these two gentlemen back to the staging area please?'
'Yes, of course,' Lionel replied. 'If you could board the train, let's give Josh and his team some space.'
'Of course, of course,' Mr. Miller said. 'Time is money and all that. I really appreciate your time, Mr. Reed, and thank you for showing me around this magnificent place. I'm sure Henry will be more than pleased to be finally going! Good luck to you, and I hope everything's okay.'
'I'm sure it's nothing,' Josh said, letting Mr. Miller and Henry board the train before turning on his heel and heading for the drill. What bad timing, he thought, to have the drill come unstuck in the middle of an executive tour. Geotech Corporation, the contractor he worked for, had fought long and hard to get this project, and he didn’t want one visit from the man upstairs to put that into jeopardy. He certainly didn't want to be the one who got singled out as the reason they lost the contract. It'll be fine, he tried to reassure himself. Mr. Miller seemed a reasonable man.
As he approached the drill, Josh saw that the team were already getting it backed up. 'Craig,' he shouted over the noise, 'what's going on?'
'Don't know,' Craig shouted back. 'Hit something hard. Could see sparks down the gap.'
'Sparks?' Josh had never seen sparks before. He waited as the drill came clear of the hole, then took a flashlight from his belt and flicked it on. 'Hang back,' he said to the team, while he and Craig went on ahead. They cleared the front of the drill, still steaming from heat and moisture, the gnarled teeth dotting the surface like bulbous metal thorns. Inside the tunnel, the smell of dirt was thick, almost unbreathable. Water dripped from the ceiling, pooling at their feet. Veins of blue crossed grey, the scored schist worked hard into dust. Josh coughed.
The fresh tunnel, a drill's length, was only fifteen feet or so, but the lack of light meant it fell away into darkness quickly. Josh squinted, holding his flashlight ahead of him as they approached the rock face. Although, Josh thought, a rock face should present rock. This didn't. It was something else. Something that glimmered.
They stood in front of the wall that had bettered them, that had sent the drill into a shower of sparks.
'It looks crystalline,' Craig said.
'Yeah,' Josh agreed. He held out a hand over the material, then laid his palm on it. Cool as anything. It should be warm. He looked to the ground for spoil, found some. He picked it up, turning it in his palm. It had come away like shards of metal, splintered into curled wisps that were so light they weighed nothing in his hand.
The drill had only grazed the surface, and yet the areas untouched still gleamed anew. It was natural, but no ore.
'Any ideas?' Josh asked.
'Never seen it before in my life,' Craig replied. 'Some kind of native titanium
perhaps? Could be an inclusion.'
'Perhaps.'
'There's nothing else supposed to be here; I checked the plans this morning.'
'No, there isn't,' Josh mumbled, partly to himself. He stared at the material, as though he could catch its secret if he stared long enough.
'You think we can go through it?'
A pause. 'I think so.' It must be an inclusion. A few inches thick, if that. 'Yeah, let's do it.'
They made their way back out of the fresh tunnel, to join the rest of the team. They looked on expectantly, hungry to push on.
'We keep going,' Josh said, which was met by a small cheer.
With the drill back in place, Josh watched on anxiously as the startup procedure was reinitialized. He looked at his watch; they'd stopped for thirty minutes already, thousands of dollars of wasted time. They could afford no more. They had to be on schedule. 'Let's get her going,' he called out. The ground shook. The teeth gnashed. The sparks flew.
Chapter 2
The metal seemed quite soft, as the drill—despite the noise and light show—moved forward with good progress. No one was expecting the great, groaning crack that shattered the air after forty minutes of drilling.
'Shut it off!' Josh shouted, waving furiously at the drill, at his team. Craig leaped into action, slapping the emergency shutoff button, grinding the drill to a halt.
Panting slightly, Craig looked at the drill, then at Josh. 'Sounds like it got through,' he said.
'It sounded like more than that,' Josh replied. 'It sounded like it was free spinning.'
Craig frowned. 'Did it?'
'I heard it too,' Steve said, nodding.
'Me too,' Carlos confirmed.
What a day, Josh thought. What—a—day. 'Let's back it up,' he said. He pulled his radio from his belt and spoke into it. 'Lionel, you there?'
A crackle. 'Yep. Mr. Miller's gone.'
'Good. I'm going to need an evac of the tunnels. My team only. We've breached a pocket or something, so there could be gas.'
'Are you sure? We weren't expecting anything like that today.'
'I'm not sure, but I'd rather be safe.'
'Yeah, good call. Okay, I'll get everyone out. Give me thirty minutes and I'll call back with the all-clear.'