Tunnels 06 - Terminal

there – we’ve got no means of letting him or Eddie know we’re Topsoil again, have we?’ Will lobbed the transmitter a short distance up in the air and caught it again. ‘But you never know – they might pick up the signal put out by this. And if they do, it’ll lead them straight to us.’
    Elliott was nodding. ‘I suppose there’s nothing to lose – unless the Styx are able to trace the signal too.’
    ‘I think we should take that risk,’ Will said, not believing for a moment that there was one.

    An insistent pinging alarm had sounded across the floor. Like a shot Danforth was over at the screen where the indicator was flashing. Silencing the alarm, he’d just pushed the person manning the station to the side so he could see the screen properly when the Old Styx came striding into the room.
    ‘What was that?’ he demanded.
    ‘A VLF … a very low frequency signal,’ Danforth replied with a degree of surprise, as he watched the long waveform meander across the bottom of the grid on the display. ‘But according to the sensors it doesn’t have any sub-coding.’
    ‘Meaning?’ the Old Styx said.
    ‘It doesn’t carry any information. It’s merely a marker of some kind.’ He indicated the next screen along on the desk. ‘And it’s just come on in London.’
    ‘Any guesses who it might be?’ the Old Styx said. ‘Is it military in origin?’
    ‘I wouldn’t necessarily jump to that conclusion. It’s not a frequency they use – it’s so low it’s scraping along at the very bottom of the spectrum.’
    The truth was that Danforth knew full well what it was likely to be, because he’d developed the VLF technology that had been used on the various missions to the inner world, particularly the last one to seal it off. And Danforth couldn’t reveal to the Old Styx why he was so interested by this new development; it meant that someone had made it back from this last mission. It was the very first indication that there were any survivors.

    If Danforth had anticipated one of the beacons popping up on the surface like that, he would have limited the range of the detectors, or programmed in a black spot to hide it. He just wished that he hadn’t been so thorough when he’d super-charged the detection system for the Styx at this installation, but he’d wanted to prove his worth to them. ‘Are we going to do anything about it?’ he asked the Old Styx.
    ‘We know where it is – we can despatch some Armagi to the location to have a look, but it’s not a priority right now,’ the Old Styx said, clasping his long, pale fingers together in front of his chest. ‘Because I have some pleasing news for you.’
    Danforth waited for him to continue.
    ‘We’ve decided to proceed with the offensive on GCHQ. We’re going in later today. And I know you would like to come along too.’
    ‘That’s wonderful. Thank you,’ Danforth nodded, although it was one of the last places on Earth he wanted to be.

    Drake was leaning over the fence at the side of the field, propping himself up with his good arm as he was violently sick.
    Jiggs regarded him with concern; the nausea was clearly intensifying, just as he’d expected it to.
    ‘Our heavy friend back in the Norfolk village was rightabout providing us with old-fashioned transport,’ Drake croaked without looking up. ‘Talk about being thrown back into the Middle Ages.’
    ‘They do the job,’ Jiggs replied.
    Drake groaned. ‘Sure, but being jogged up and down on that bloody animal isn’t helping me one little bit.’
    ‘Don’t you listen. He doesn’t mean it, old chap,’ Jiggs whispered to Drake’s horse as he stroked its neck. Jiggs was holding its reins and those of his own mount as he waited for Drake to recover. ‘He thinks you’re really a wonderful horse. He’s just not himself at the moment,’ he added conspiratorially to the horse.
    ‘If you’re talking about me behind my back to that refugee from a glue factory, I’ll n—’ Drake said, but stopped as the cramp in his stomach made him want to double up.
    Jiggs shook his head sadly, wishing that he was able to do more for his friend. They’d been giving main roads and any built-up areas a wide berth, which wasn’t ideal because a hefty dose of anti-emetics from a chemist’s or a hospital would have improved Drake’s condition.
    Although Jiggs didn’t really need to consult it because of his exceptional sense of direction, he slid the map from his pocket and