He made his way to what had once been the escalator shaft at the centre of the concourse. Attached to a rusty metal post were different coloured cords; white, blue, yellow, red and orange. A rope ladder hung some twenty metres down into the black waters slopping below. The divers followed him in a predetermined sequence, with Bill last. Each had a number painted on the front of their suits and on their tanks, so that in
the murky darkness it would be easier for each diver to keep tabs on his buddy. Andy had chosen Feung as his. He was a twenty-four year old graduate from the University of Shenzen. He had quickly figured out that as well as being the youngest, he was probably the least confident.

‘Take care going down. One at a time,’ said Andy, lowering himself first. ‘It’s muddy and slippery.’

In less than ten minutes all of them had lumbered down the sloping ladder and were treading water in a crowded knot. In the gloom, Andy could see their excited yet earnest faces.
This was it. This was the real thing.

‘Okay masks on.’ Several spat into their masks, clearing them with water. A few good lucks were swapped, mainly in Mandarin. When Andy saw they were all ready, he said quietly, ‘Fine, let’s go.’ He put his respirator into his mouth and sank.

Once underwater they switched on their flashlights and each diver took a few moments to adjust his own buoyancy. When Andy was satisfied that everyone was checked, he gave them the okay signal, by placing his forefinger and thumb together to form the letter O. This gave him a small satisfaction,
because he knew to some foreigners it meant arsehole. He then descended, clearing his ears as he felt the water pressure build.