Tim and Alkemy kept low, shielding their eyes. The light from the passage was so intense it was like a physical presence. Tim felt it as he moved. Like battling a strong wind. Then it dimmed and the pressure eased and they found themselves in a circular tunnel similar to the one that had led to Albert’s final resting place. It was darker here and cool. Looking back, he realised they’d pushed through some sort of force field.
This passage was twice the diameter of the other shaft — they could easily stand upright — but it was damp. Two centimetres of water lay in its base. It also had its own internal illumination. The glassy walls gave off a faint pinkish glow, filling it with a soft, uniform light that made their torches unnecessary.
They edged forward, sloshing through the water.
After a short straight stretch they came to an intersection where the tunnel split into four separate passages, two curving away to the right, two curving to the left.
‘Which way?’ Tim said.
‘Here,’ Alkemy said.
Immediately to their right was a gap in the tunnel wall, a broken section where the curving passage had clipped the corner of a natural fissure in the rock. The opening was small and dark. Tim moved towards it without hesitation.
Easing through the irregular opening, they found themselves in a deep chamber plastered in soft green fungus. Stalactites of it hung from the ceiling, stalagmites of it rose from the ground. At first Tim thought they were rock formations covered in the stuff, but when he brushed against one it yielded, soft and springy, swaying back and forth in the humid air.
‘At least is warm in here,’ Alkemy whispered.
Tim realised how cold he was. The mineshaft had been cool. Their clothes were damp from where they’d pressed against the wall, and now their feet were soaked too.
They crawled in — there wasn’t room to stand upright — then sat and waited. A minute passed. Two. Three. Then shadows flickered in the outer passage. Tim pressed a finger to his lips and they edged further back into the chamber. They saw a rippling bow wave pass the entrance. Faint chittering sounds grew steadily. The Sentinels were returning.
They took cover behind a mound of fungus as a slimy, elongated shape slid past the opening in the wall.
Tim was surprised at how big they were. It hadn’t registered in his dreams or even in silhouette. Height and width were arbitrary measurements for such amorphous creatures, but in terms of bulk they must have been the size of small cars. The one passing filled the passage completely, moving with surprising speed.
They waited.
The second one began gliding past. Then it paused. Something happened to the side pressed against the opening of the fungus chamber, and Tim realised it was oozing itself into their space. He touched Alkemy’s arm. She’d seen it too and they inched back further, keeping low as a bulbous head extruded through the creature’s side, swelling up before them in monstrous outline.
* * *
Glad looked up as the door buzzer sounded and Crystal Starbrite stepped into the shop. She was dressed in jeans, a 9-News T-shirt, a pair of expensive looking shoes, and carried a brown leather bag over one shoulder.
‘Hi. I’m Crystal Starbrite.’ She held out a limp hand.
Glad wasn’t sure whether she was expected to shake it or kiss it. She opted for a shake.
‘Glad Smith,’ Glad said, for once not adding her usual follow-on, ‘and I’m glad to meet you.’
Crystal looked about the shop, her eyes lingering briefly on her own picture on the cover of a weekly magazine. ‘Nice place.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Quiet little town, isn’t it?’
‘I like it.’
‘I don’t expect much happens round here that you don’t know about.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that.’
‘Really?’
‘If you’re looking for town gossip, you’ve come to the wrong place.’
‘I was wondering what you thought about that meteor impact the other day?’
‘Why would you be interested in my opinion?’
‘I’m canvassing townsfolk, building up background.’
‘Looking for a story, you mean?’
‘If there is one.’
They locked eyes for a moment and Glad had a sudden intuition about the leather bag. It didn’t fit with the expensive shoes and the designer jeans. It was plain. No fancy label. Nothing exclusive about it. Hardly the sort of thing a celebrity like Crystal Starbrite would carry. And there was something about the way she held it too. Something in the way she kept it level when she moved.
Glad thought about Alice and the cameraman. She’d seen the look that passed between them. Had seen them huddled in a doorway up the road.
‘So, you were telling me about the meteorite.’
‘Actually I wasn’t.’ Glad resisted the temptation to straighten her hair or duck out the back and put on a bit of make-up.
‘You don’t think it’s curious that this place seems to be a magnet for that sort of thing? I mean, two in the space of a week ...?
Glad shrugged. ‘Coincidence.’
‘What about the spaceship?’
‘What?’
‘The spaceship, Ms Smith. You know all about that. You were there.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Come, come, we have witnesses.’
‘Witnesses? Plural? You don’t need me then.’
Crystal said nothing. She looked about the shop then leaned in confidentially. ‘Look, this could be big. How much do you make from a place like this? Open all hours, seven days a week? I bet it’s a lot less than what my network would pay for an exclusive story.’
Glad studied her briefly, then reached over to the rack at the end of the counter and picked up a copy of the magazine with Crystal on the cover. ‘I just realised. That’s you, isn’t it?’ She held it up in clear view of the leather bag. ‘It’s amazing what they can do these days. They’ve made you look ten years younger.’
* * *
‘Mine’s dead too,’ Coral said, trying the starter.
Ludokrus sighed and looked up the gully.
‘So much for fancy high-tech bikes,’ she said to Norman. ‘Looks like we’ll be walking home.’
‘Is not the bikes fault, is mine,’ Ludokrus said. ‘Quick build. Need to make fast. I leave off some parts.’
‘Like waterproofing.’
‘Only some. Should be rainproof. I do not expect the flood.’ He gestured at the brightening sky. ‘Will come dry if we leave up the seat.’
‘How long will that take?’
‘One hour, maybe.’
‘What are we supposed to do in the meantime?’
‘Walk. You remember how?’
Rain had done little to improve the appearance of the gully. Before it had looked dry, desolate and foreboding. Now it looked damp, desolate and foreboding. Most of the downpour had vanished so completely that Coral found herself wondering if she’d imagined it. The foaming drainage ditch still contained a handful of puddles. There were a few more on the track itself and evidence of another slip further up the valley. But apart from clamminess in the shaded sections and a faint steaming from the rocks on the sunlit side, the place had hardly changed.
Timeless, she thought as they started up the track to the mineshaft. If they returned in a hundred years, or even a thousand, it wouldn’t look much different.
Norman kept one eye on the receiver as they headed for the mineshaft. ‘Nothing yet, but they may be just inside the entrance. ’
‘Why wait there?’ Ludokrus said.
‘Water-logged bikes, perhaps?’ Coral muttered.
They passed the Hope and Sanity signpost and stopped at the bottom of the switchback track.
‘I’ll go this time,’ Norman said.
‘No, we should go two—’
‘Two of you are already missing, remember?’ Norman headed off without waiting for an answer.
Coral and Ludokrus followed his progress, watching every step. They saw him reach the plateau at the entrance to the mine, then heard his voice echo up and down the shaft. He came back to the edge and called down, ‘Still no reading on the receiver. I’ll go in further.’ He pulled a torch from his back pocket. ‘Give me a minute.’
Ludokrus kept an eye on his watch. Norman reappeared, shaking his head. ‘Nothing. No sign of them.’
‘What? That’s not possible.’
‘Come up and see for yourselves.’
‘But we saw them go in there,’ Coral said as they reached the plateau.
‘I went right to the end.’ Norman said. ‘It’s a single shaft about sixty metres long. Ends in a sort of T. No side tunnels, no signs of a cave in. Just a dead-end.’
‘Footprint?’ Ludokrus said.
‘Rock floor.’
‘Is this even the right mine?’ Coral said.
Norman gave her a pitying look. She was standing right beside the parked bikes.
‘Yeah, well, those things don’t work in the wet, do they? Maybe they went down on foot.’
‘And left their packs behind?’
The packs were still strapped to the back of the bikes.
‘Even if they do, where can they go?’ Ludokrus looked up at the slope above them. ‘Hard to climb, and why would they? Nothing is up there. So must go down. Then is only left or right. One way go back to hut, the other is dead-end.’
They stood in silence, searching the barren gully below for signs of life, but finding nothing.