Tunnels 03, Freefall

rubbed his chin as he considered the situation. "Well... we can carry Elliott on the stretcher like we did on the way here. That wouldn't be a problem. Once we're in the WolfCaves, we can decide what to do next. Happy with that, Chester?"
    "Sure," Chester agreed. "Just let's not hang around here so long that we're eating soggy cardboard to stay alive. If we're going to go, let's do it soon."
    They resolved to set out for the caves in twenty-four hours.
    Leaving Chester to watch Elliott, Will went off to check the kit in the rucksacks in readiness for the journey. Once he'd finished, he wandered aimlessly around the submarine, eventually heading to the rearmost and by far the largest compartment in the vessel. It was occupied by the submarine's twin propulsion units, huge chunks of engine in polished steel casings. It wasn't that easy to get around in this compartment because most of the metal grilles composing the gangways had been removed. This was obviously where Martha's son had obtained the metal sheeting he'd taken back to the shack.
    Immediately preceding the engines were two sealed areas which, from the elaborate locking systems, resembled strong rooms of some description. Will discovered that their doors required special keys to open them. However, he had no intention of attempting this because of the radioactivity warning signs plastered all around them.
    As he made his way to the other end of the submarine he passed Martha, who was sound asleep, a hand on the crossbow beside her on the mattress.
    Will had just passed Elliott's cabin when he heard a noise and turned to see Rebecca was following quietly behind him.
    "How's it going?" he asked, a little surprised that she was there, and wondering what she wanted.
    "Fine," she answered sweetly.
    With Rebecca still in tow, Will reached the door that led to the bow section of the submarine. He looked through the thick glass porthole at the mass of tangled metal inside. It appeared to have borne the brunt of the impact as the submarine crashed down the void.
    "Bet there are torpedoes in there," Rebecca said casually, standing on tiptoe to see over his shoulder. "Probably with nuclear warheads."
    "Really," Will replied, wiping the glass with his sleeve to get a better view. "Just the sort of thing your people would love to get their mitts on," he added as an afterthought.
    She laughed, but her eyes were cold, as if Will had offended her. "No, not our style," she said crisply as she lounged against the sloping side wall. "We want to mend the planet, not turn it into a wasteland where only rats and cockroaches can live. But you Topsoilers seem to be bent on doing just that. You don't care that you're polluting and ruining it, bit by bit, day by day. Not as long as you have your three square meals, your TV and your nice warm beds." She was speaking with the spiteful assurance that he knew from the Rebecca of old, with the hardness that he so detested, and it riled him.
    "Don't blame me for what's going on," he objected. "If it was up to me, I'd do something to stop all the pollution and global warming."
    "Oh yeah? How? You're just as much to blame as any one of those other seven billion people crawling over the crust like greedy dung beetles," she said, with a glance upwards. "Don't you see what you've done? You've tried to make the world a 'better' place for yourselves... you've tried to control everything that shouldn't be controlled. And now it's all gone horribly wrong, you're forced to try to control it even more. But you can't, and you won't. If you try to bend nature to suit yourself, nature's going to bend you back. You and all the rest of the Topsoilers are fast approaching the end of the road... just as the Book of Catastrophes foretold."
    Will didn't much care for the way she was lecturing him, and was only just managing to keep his temper. He couldn't believe the transformation that had come over the girl, as if she was letting her true colors show through. Then, just as abruptly, her whole demeanor changed, and she smiled. Uncrossing her arms, she waved something in front of him.
    "I thought you might be interested in these. I found them tucked down the side of a bunk," she said pleasantly. She offered him what appeared to be some photographs, all the size of holiday snaps.
    A little disarmed by the change in Rebecca, he took the photographs and began to look through them. There were ten of them, all black and white, and spotted with patches of damp or