Tunnels 05 - Spiral

achromasia, or achromatosis. Occurrence about one in seventeen thousand, a recessive inherited genetic condition,” he said, the words pouring out in an uninterrupted gush.
    “Er . . . hello,” Will mumbled when the Professor finally fell silent, more than a little taken aback by all the attention he was receiving. Will automatically offered the man his hand, but Danforth immediately retreated a step, muttering what sounded like “Egg . . . breaking my egg.” He cleared his throat at great volume and switched his attention to Chester. “And you’ll be Rawls. Good, good.”
    Annoyed with himself that he’d forgotten Drake’s advice about the Professor’s dislike of physical contact, Will was examining what the man had been working on when they’d entered. Laid out on a small cushion some ten inches square was a piece of lace, with many bobbins dangling from its sides. It was largely unfinished, but in the completed areas, Danforth had stitched the most involved and intricate geometric patterns.
    “An anachronism, I know, but it assists my mental processes,” the Professor explained, noticing Will’s interest. “I find that cogitation is a largely preconscious activity.”
    As Will nodded back at him, Danforth flicked his eyes in Drake’s direction. “I taught this whippersnapper everything he knows. Tutored him in basic electronics when he still couldn’t tie his own shoelaces. I took him on as my apprentice.”
    “Merlin’s apprentice,” Drake said, an affectionate smile on his face. “How could I forget; we began with a cat’s-whisker radio when I was three or four, then quickly progressed to robotics and exploding drones.”
    “Exploding drones?” Chester inquired.
    “Remote-controlled airplanes to military spec, which carried our home-made explosives,” Drake replied. “Parry put a stop to our test flights on the estate when one crashed into the greenhouse and nearly blew Old Wilkie’s head off.”
    The Professor twitched impatiently as if all this had begun to bore him. “Yes, well, I received your package with the components and the drawings. Fascinating stuff, I must say.” He removed his glasses and began to polish them with an obsessive thoroughness. The mannerism was so familiar to Will that he nearly gasped; it struck him that there was much about Danforth that was reminiscent of Dr. Burrows, Will’s late father. And the similarity wasn’t lost on Chester, who seemed to pick up on it at the same time. Catching Will’s eye, he gave him a small nod.
    Danforth was in full flow, as if he’d launched into a lecture. “The Styx — by pursuing a parallel evolutionary course to us with their scientific development — have come up with some truly groundbreaking technology. Their accomplishments in both subsonics and mind control are something the U.S. military were frantically trying to develop in the sixties. And, I can tell you, the Americans would pay a pretty penny to get their h —”
    “But did
you
get anywhere with the Dark Light?” Drake interrupted.
    “Did I get anywhere?” the Professor said as if Drake’s question were an affront. “What do you think? Step this way.” In his strange gait, he hopped toward the rear wall of the room, where there was a bookcase and — as Drake had done when he placed his hand on the scanner outside — Danforth now pressed his palm against what appeared to be an ordinary mirror. The middle section of the bookcase clicked and swung open, revealing a hidden room.
    “I swear it’s
Dexter’s Laboratory
,” Chester whispered irreverently to Will as they all followed Danforth into the room, which, from floor to ceiling, was filled with electronic equipment. A bewildering array of lights blinked on and off in different sequences on the various units.
    But they clearly weren’t stopping there, as the Professor headed for a set of narrow wooden stairs in the corner, at the top of which Will and Chester found themselves in a long attic. At more than a hundred feet from end to end, it evidently ran the full length of the row of cottages and, again, was filled with equipment, although much of this was obscured by dust sheets. Beyond some test benches, at the very end of the attic, was a metal chair bolted to the floor. As Danforth reached it, he wheeled a trolley into view, on which were many boxes of electronics.
    The Professor hit a switch, and a green line skittered across a small circular display, settling down into an undulating