Juggernaut

All this would take a little time to produce but it shouldn't be too difficult. Testing the finished product as a floating proposition would be interesting, and finding a way to push it along would stretch a few minds, but I didn't really doubt that it could be done. And the final result, weird of shape and design, was going to win no prizes for elegance. I jiggled with a list of required materials; some of them were going to be hard to find if not impossible. All in all, I couldn't see why on earth I was so confident that the plan would work.

'We have to go up a stage, Ben,' I said,, still sketching. 'Look at this.'

The hexagon is a very useful shape, ask any honey bee, but I doubt if it has been used much in naval architecture.

'Start off assuming we've built an 'A'-gon,' I told Ben. That was how new words came into a language, I guess, though I didn't think this one would last long enough to qualify for Webster's Dictionary. Ben caught on and grinned in appreciation. 'Here's what comes next.'

Take an 'A'-gon and float it in shallow water so that a man could stand on the bottom and still handle equipment. Float another six 'A'-gons round it and fasten together the hexagons of the outer ring. There is no need to fasten the inner one because, like the first drum, it is totally surrounded and pressed in from all sides.

The result is a 'B' hexagon, a 'B'-gon in our new nomenclature, with a positive buoyancy of ten and a half tons, enough to carry over a hundred people or a medium sized truck. We decided to make two of them, which is why we needed a hundred drums.

Hammond was impressed and fascinated. 'How do we make the cages?' he asked.

'We'll have to find timber and cut pieces to the exact size,' I said. 'That won't be too difficult. I'm more concerned about finding planking to deck it, otherwise it'll be unsafe to walk on.

Nyalan women make good cordage, and We can lash the 'A'-gon frames together, which will save nails. But I'm worried about the fastening of the larger 'B'-gons. Rope and fibre won't help us there. We need steel cable.'

'I've got some,' he offered, a shade reluctantly.

'I don't want to have to use that yet. We'll figure out something else.'

I stood up. 'It's only four o'clock and I need some exercise. There's two hours of daylight yet. Let's go build us an 'A'-gon.'

We were just leaving the office when Bing arrived back.

'Mister Zimmerman says they've only found sixty-seven drums.' he said.

At the compound we found Zimmerman, Kirilenko and Derek Grafton looking mucky with old oil and somewhat bad-tempered. It appeared that there were not many empty drums. Kironji seldom got them back, and these had not been placed neatly away from the full drums but stood all over the place. Here Kironji's normal tidiness had deserted him, to our detriment. It didn't help that neither Grafton nor Kirilenko knew why they had to find empty drums, and of the two only the Russian was equable about taking unexplained orders.

I commiserated with them and sent them off for a breather, after we'd rolled eight or nine drums down to the lake shore. Zimmerman stayed with us. Hammond left in search of Kironji, to get the workshop unlocked; he would cut some timber frameworks and we decided to use rope, which we, knew was available, for the prototype 'A'-gon.

'I don't see how we're going to find enough empties,' Zimmerman grumbled.

'Ever hear about the guy who went into a store to buy some eggs? There was a sign up saying "Cracked Eggs Half Price", so he asked them to crack him a dozen eggs.'

Zimmerman smiled weakly.

'You mean empty out full drums?'

'Why not? To start with we'll fill every fuel tank we can with either gas or diesel, and all our spare jerrycans too. If there are still not enough drums we'll dig a big pit somewhere well away from the camp and ditch the stuff. And put up a "No Smoking" notice.'

He realized I wasn't joking and his jaw dropped. I suppose that as an oil man he was more used to getting the stuff out of the earth than to putting it back in. Then we were interrupted by Sam Kironji in his usual state of high indignation.

'You cut trees! You use my saw. You never stop make trouble.'

I looked enquiringly at Sandy Bing who had raced in behind him. 'Yes, Mister Mannix. Mister Hammond found a chain saw in the workshop. But it won't be good for long.. The teeth are nearly worn out and there's no replacement.'

Kironji shook his head sadly. 'You use my saw, you welcome. But you cut tree, you get in big trouble with Mister Nyama.'

'Who's he, Sam?'

'Everybody know Mister Nyama. Big Government tree man. He cut many tree here, with big machine.'

I said, 'Are you telling us that there's a government logging camp near here?'

'Sure.'

'Well where, for God's sake?'

Sam pointed along the lake. 'One, two mile. They use our road.'

I recalled that the road led on past the compound, but I hadn't given any thought as to where it went. A bad oversight on my part.