Cryptonomicon

Golgotha is cut into a ridge of basalt that is flung out from the base of the mountain--like a buttress root from the trunk of a jungle tree--that separates the watersheds of the Yamamoto and Tojo Rivers. Moving southwards from the summit of Calvary, then, one would pass through the teeming bowl of its extinct crater first, over the remains of its southern rim, and then onto the gradual downward slope of a much larger mountain on which Calvary's cinder cone is just a blemish, like a wart on a nose. The small Yamamoto River runs generally parallel to the Tojo on the other side of the basalt ridge, but descends more gradually, so that its elevation gets higher and higher above that of the Tojo River as both work their way down the mountain. At the site of Lake Yamamoto, it is fifty meters above the Tojo. By drilling the connecting tunnel in a southeasterly direction rather than straight east underneath the ridge, one can bypass a chain of rapids and a waterfall on the Tojo which drop that river's elevation to almost a hundred meters beneath the bottom of the lake.

When The General comes to inspect the works, Goto Dengo astonishes him by taking him up the Tojo River in the same Mercedes he used to drive down from Manila. By this point, the workers have constructed a single-lane road that leads from the prison camp up the rocky bed of the river to Golgotha. "Fortune has smiled on our endeavor by giving us a dry summer," Goto Dengo explains. "With the water low, the riverbed makes an ideal roadway--the rise in altitude is gentle enough for the heavy trucks that we will be bringing in. When we are finished, we will create a low dam near the site that will conceal the most obvious signs of our work. When the river rises to its normal height, there will be no visible trace that men were ever here."

"It is a good idea," The General concedes, then mumbles something to his aide about using the same technique at the other sites. The aide nods and haisand writes it down.

A kilometer into the jungle, the banks rise up into vertical walls of stone that climb higher and higher above the water's level until they actually overhang the river. There is a hollow in the stony channel where the river broadens out; just upstream is the waterfall. At this point the road makes a left turn directly into the rock wall, and stops. Everyone gets out of the Mercedes: Goto Dengo, The General, his aide, and Captain Noda. The river runs over their feet, ankle-deep.

A mouse-hole has been dug into the rock here. It has a flat bottom and an arched ceiling. A six-year-old could stand upright in here, but anyone taller will have to stoop. A pair of iron rails runs into the opening. "The main drift," says Goto Dengo.

"This is it?"

"The opening is small so that we can conceal it later," Captain Noda explains, cringing, "but it gets wider inside."

The General looks pissed off and nods. Led by Goto Dengo, all four men squat and duck-walk into the tunnel, pushed by a steady current of air. "Notice the excellent ventilation," Captain Noda enthuses, and Goto Dengo grins proudly.

Ten meters in, they are able to stand up. Here, the drift has the same vaulted shape, but it's six feet high and six wide, buttressed by reinforced-concrete arches that they have poured in wooden forms on the floor. The iron rails run far away into blackness. A train of three mine cars sits on them--sheet metal boxes filled with shattered basalt. "We remove waste by hand tramming," Goto Dengo explains. "This drift, and the rails, are perfectly level, to keep the cars from running out of control."

The General grunts. Clearly he has no respect for the intricacies of mine engineering.

"Of course, we will use the same cars to move the, er, material into the vault when it arrives," Captain Noda says.

"Where did this waste come from?" The General demands. He is pissed off that they are still digging at this late stage.

"From our longest and most difficult tunnel--the inclined shaft to the bottom of Lake Yamamoto," says Goto Dengo. "Fortunately, we can continue to extend that shaft even while the material is being loaded into the vault. Outgoing cars will carry waste from the shaft work, incoming cars will carry the material."

He stops to thrust his finger into a drill hole in the ceiling. "As you can see, all of the holes are ready for the demolition charges. Not only will those charges bring down the ceiling, but they will leave the surrounding rock so rotten as to make horizontal excavation very difficult."

They walk down the main drift for fifty meters. "We are in the heart of the ridge now," Goto Dengo says, "halfway between the two rivers. The surface is a hundred meters straight up." In front of them, the string of electric lights terminates in blackness. Goto Dengo gropes for a wall switch.

"The vault," he says, and hits the switch.