Tunnels 04, Closer

Styx -- have been shown the for the fools that they are... once they have been bested by the likes of you and Will Burrows -- a mere boy -- then they will lose their grip on power, and I will return to the Colony to take the helm. I'm patient -- I'm prepared to wait for that day." He tucked his hands in his pockets and strode toward the stairs. "So long, Drake," he said.

    * * * * *

    Chester rushed to the door the moment Eddie closed it, but couldn't get it open. "We're locked in! Where's Drake?" He tried to use his throat mike to speak to him, but the radio had been damaged in the struggle and was completely dead. "This whole bloody place is going to go up in a matter in min--" Chester trailed off as he caught sight of something through the observation port. "What!" he exclaimed, then wiped his streaming eyes for another look. He saw Eddie out in the corridor, and Drake edging toward him with a pistol. "Oh no, it's him again!" Chester shouted. "Mrs. Burrows, you were right. It is a Styx!"
    Having taken off his tunic and put it around Mrs. Burrows' shoulders, the Second Officer now joined Chester. He spotted Eddie on the other side of the door and started to thump on it to attract his attention. "Ha! Now your puffballs are pickled," he declared to Chester. "The Styx will do for you and your friend. They'll let me out of here."
    "Nope," Chester replied, elbowing the Second Officer aside for another look at Eddie. "That was our Styx -- he's not on your side anymore."
    "So he's on your side," the Second Officer said, with surprise.
    Chester shook his head.
    "Well, whose bloody side is he on then?" the Second Officer demanded, his broad face a picture of confusion.
    "I honestly don't know," Chester admitted.
    They couldn't hear the exchange between Drake and Eddie, but Chester gulped as he saw Drake freeze statue-still, and his pistol go off randomly. He gulped again as Eddie went over to him and pried the weapon from his hand, then lower him to the floor and out of sight. "Dark Light... Drake's been Darklit," he whispered, as he realized what he'd just witnessed. "We're in big trouble. We can't have longer than a few minutes before the charges go off!"
    "But...?" the Second Officer said, jabbing his thumb in Eddie's direction.
    "No, why don't you listen to me! He won't be in the mood to help us. Not after what we did to him," Chester ranted. "We're well and truly snookered!"
    "Then we'll just have to think of something ourselves," Mrs. Burrows declared. As she stood up, the policeman's tunic was almost like a coat on her.
    Chester and the Second Officer worked together, doing their best to force the door open, but if was far too solidly constructed. By now, Chester was coughing as much as the Second Officer, and his eyes had become so irritated he could hardly see.
    "We could smash that," Chester suggested, as he slapped the circular inspection port in the door. HE knew it was a long shot. The port was less than ten centimeters in diameter and positioned too high up for them to reach the handle through it, but it was worth a try.
    "Budge out of the way," the Second Officer said.
    Chester stood back as he seized the aluminum stool and swung it at the glass in the observation port. But the stool broke into pieces after several attempts, and the glass wasn't even marked.
    "See what else is in here," Chester instructed the Second Officer, as he began to rummage through his Bergen, searching for something they could use to break their way out. "I haven't got any explosives, but... yes... this might do it," he said, snatching up one of his rifles from the floor. "Keep your heads down -- I'm going to use real bullets!" he warned. He cocked the weapon and tried to aim a the window, but his vision was so impeded he stopped himself. "This is no good," he muttered. Then he remembered the atropine syringes Drake had given him and quickly fished them out of his pocket, lobbing one to the Second Officer. "This will help you see again. Use it like this!" he told the Colonist, as he put his rifle down and, removing the cap from the syringe, thumped it into his thigh.
    He bent to retrieve the rifle, then stood up again. "Whay! Feel real dizzy now," he said. But with a few deep breaths his head cleared, and he aimed at the observation port and fired. The sound was deafening in the room. Although the first shot did minimal damage to the window, a small crack appeared at the edge of the glass. "Must be toughened or something! Damn it!"