Tunnels 03, Freefall

I've stuck some emergency flares in here too, along with some other goodies." Drake pulled a third Bergen towards them and undid the top.
    "Explosives," Will said, recognizing the canisters that Drake and Elliott used in the Deeps.
    "With one difference -- it's not my homebrew in them this time, but C4... plastic explosive. This lot is for Elliott, but you have to tell her to be careful how she sets these babies because they're more potent than anything she's used before. And last, but not least," he announced, and lifted out a shiny black plastic box from a side pocket of the third Bergen. It was the size of a pack of playing cards and had a length of wire trailing from it. "This is a radio beacon," he said, then lifted up the wire so Will and Dr. Burrows could see it. "It puts out a radio signal called VLF, with stands for Very Low Frequency . The technology is still in its infancy and nobody knows the extent of its effective range yet, but leave these at strategic points on your route, and it'll help you find your way round."
    "Like Hansel and Gretel leaving a trail of breadcrumbs in the woods," Dr. Burrows commented wryly.
    "Something like that, but these are digital breadcrumbs with twenty-year batteries. I've given you fifteen beacons and a couple of trackers," Drake said then swung round to face Dr. Burrows. "And your spare fuel is already in place for you," Doc. I had Leatherman move in at night and stow it by the quayside for you, next to the kit you left there."
    "He found his way down there, just like that?" Dr. Burrows asked, amazed.
    Drake retied the top of the Bergen and slid it towards Will. "We're not amateurs, you know," he said.
    "No, clearly not," Dr. Burrows sniffed, disgruntled. "You've got access to weapons, labs for viral analysis, cutting-edge night vision equipment, and other technology the likes of which I've never seen before. Just who the hell are you?" he demanded. "You haven't told us."
    "Ever heard of the Illuminati?" Drake said.
    "Of course I have -- the German secret society from the eighteenth century," Dr. Burrows answered with great authority, throwing a sidelong glance at his son to see if he was impressed.
    "You got it -- the Illuminati were founded by Adam Weishaupt in 1776 in Bavaria," Drake said, then inhaled deeply. "Well, I suppose you might say we have vague parallels with them. We're a clandestine network of scientists, military personnel and a handful of people in senior government. But unlike the Illuminati, we didn't come together for sinister purposes -- far from it -- we have a common and single goal, to try to fight the Styx any way we can."
    "That doesn't help me very much."
    Drake gave Dr. Burrows a wink and lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. "It's not meant to."

29

    The launch was carried along at some speed by the river, needing little assistance from the outboard, except when Will blipped the throttle to keep them to the middle of the channel. And although Dr. Burrows had taken up position at the bow, Will now had the use of his headset and didn't really need any guidance on what lay ahead.
    They sailed right past the first refueling station, but stopped at the second one to dry themselves out and get some rest. They had something to eat, choosing a curry from the impressive selection of lightweight rations Drake had provided for them.
    As they lounged around after the meal, warming their hands by the petrol stove, Will turned to his father.
    "Once we got Topsoil, you didn't have any intention of bringing me back here, did you?" he accused him. "You were going to dump me on Mum, so I wasn't around your neck. In fact, that's the only reason you wanted to go home, isn't it? You wanted me off your hands. You lied to me, plain and simple. It's that white-mice thing again, isn't it?"
    Dr. Burrows closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "It was for your own good, Will. I was trying to do what was best for you."
    Will gave his father a withering look. "And yesterday you were more interested in working on your precious tablets than seeing poor old Mum. You don't give a damn about her any more, do you?"
    "How can I put this, Will?" Dr. Burrows' voice was strained as he tried to explain himself. "It's a bit like my job in the museum. I had to do it because I needed to bring in enough money to keep us all afloat, but it was never me . All the time I knew I could do something better... something exceptional. And sometimes relationships -- marriages