Tunnels 03, Freefall

Mrs. Burrows was propped up in a chair, her legs covered with a thick grey blanket. Her eyes were closed, and cushions had been placed either side of her head as she was unable to support it herself. Indeed, she had no control over any part of her body.
    In another chair, closer to the hearth where a fire burnt, an elderly lady darned a sock as she chattered gently to herself.
    "It's a crime what they pay a policeman these days, partickly when 'e got his old mother, 'is sister and now... now 'e's got an invalid on 'is back, too." The elderly lady ceased her needlework and peered round at Mrs. Burrows. It wasn't an unkindly look, but the old lady pressed her pale lips together with concern. "I told 'I'm, I did, it's all well and good playing the Samaritan, but it's like 'aving a new baby to care for, a big new baby that might never grow up. But 'e don't listen... I think 'e's going soft in his old age." The elderly lady turned back to her work. "I don't know where this is all going to end. I don't know 'ow we're going to make ends meet, I don't, not on 'is wages."
    Because of the crackle of the fire in the room and because she was still muttering to herself, the elderly lady didn't hear that Mrs. Burrows' breathing had changed. It had become deep and forced, as if she was about to try something that, in her state, was a Herculean and almost impossible feat. She maintained the deep breathing for several minutes, building herself up to the task. The she stopped altogether, holding her breath in as she strained.
    Like a wild animal in a winter-black cave, she was isolated and cut off from the outside world. Here the darkness was only broken by the odd sparkle as a thought or a desire or a memory coalesced for the tiniest moment, then was gone almost the moment it had appeared.
    But now she had something she was determined to do. From somewhere the will to succeed, to survive, had emerged.
    She made the most immense effort.
    She strained even harder, still holding her breath. She managed to raise her right eyelid the tiniest degree, and to keep it raised. The chink of her exposed eye glittered and the light of the blaze registered on her retina, firing off the cells there. They generated minute electrical impulses that were conveyed up her optic nerves to her brain, which struggled to process them. Some of these signals did make it through to her cortex, and she vaguely sensed rather than saw the rosy glow in the room.
    But to her it was everything, it was something from outside her cave. She clung on to the sensation with animal instinct, and it gave her hope.
    Then, because the effort had been all too much for her and had drained every last ounce of energy form her body, the eyelid slid shut once again. Letting out her breath, she sank back into a deep slumber as the elderly lady, none the wiser for the miracle that had just taken place, continued to chatter to herself.

    * * * * *

    Will and Elliott talked at length about what they should do with the phials. They even went as far as to consider whether they should attempt the journey back through the crystal belt, so they could reach Topsoil and deliver the phials to Drake. But neither of them took this suggestion seriously, as they believed the chances of them making it through were pretty slim. And the worst outcome would be if there was a mishap along the way in which the phials were damaged and the virus released. Dr. Burrows warned them about the global system of air currents, saying that it might be one in a million but there was always the possibility that the virus could be carried up to the external world.
    They couldn't risk this, so instead Will took it upon himself to search for a place to bury them, where he thought they would be safe. His arm still in a sling but healing well, he'd left the camp on his own and was exploring a nearby tract of jungle when, in the corner of his eye, he thought he saw someone in the shadows cast by a grove of trees. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, not only because he knew it couldn't be his father or Elliott, but also because the figure looked so much like Uncle Tam.
    As he crept towards the trees, he realized that what he'd seen must be a knot of creepers hanging from a lower branch, and that there was no one there. Telling himself that it must have been because Tam had recently been so much in his thoughts, he investigated what lay behind the grove of trees, and found a small spring bubbling up from between a