Chapter 2

"Don't lecture me, Captain, I am quite capable of understanding the implications all by myself," drawled Sir James Peregrine Lester from the highly ergonomically tested and physiotherapeutically acclaimed office chair that sat lazily behind his desk. "Given the present state of affairs we are walking a tightrope between containment of highly sensitive information and the necessity of dealing with its various outcomes. It is not a situation I am unfamiliar with, however, and you may rest assured that I have taken all necessary steps."

"I'm glad to hear it, Sir," you could hear the capital letter, "but as commander of this unit I would appreciate being kept informed of such... Possible outcomes."

"Be assured, Becker: when I know, you will know," Lester drummed his fingers on the desk, irritably. An indulgence he infrequently appropriated. "The PM is aware of our present situation, and of my concerns. He has assured me he will inform me when he has ascertained the best replacements members for our sadly diminished team."

"And until then, Sir?"

"We leave off the prediction and stick to the containment. Is that clear enough for you Captain?"

"Quite, Sir."

"Then get out of my office and get on with the job you are being paid for!"

Becker sighed inwardly. He should have known nothing short of the brash, brazen, inaccessible rudeness of Cutter would have made it through that diamond smooth veneer.

"Yes, Sir," he said, removing himself from the room. Perhaps there was a deadly prehistoric killer lurking around a corner for him to deal with. It would certainly be a step down from Lester in terms of difficulty.

XXXX

"Wake up, Dorothy, we're not in Kansas any more."

"Wrong movie, remarkably!"

"This is entirely your fault, you know."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"I mean, I could have just stayed there in the tree and waited for something else to come along, but you forced my hand."

"Yes, Connor, I know."

"I told you it was a bad idea."

"I think we've covered that."

"Just let me savour it. Please?"

"Why should I?"

"It doesn't happen often."

"Granted."

"So, to sum up, we are currently trapped in the bowels of the earth, having fallen off a giant sauropod into a system of tunnels of, as yet, unknown length and containing, as yet, unknown creatures."

Abby rolled her eyes and tried a shrug. She winced at the pain that shot through her shoulders. Maybe not then. Not for a while anyway. A shrug would be wasted on him in this darkness anyway.

"You're the expert," she sighed. "What sort of things does the fossil record say lives in these sort of places?"

"Actually, the fossil record is remarkably quiet on that point," the sarcasm had dropped out of Connor's voice now. "A combination of history and nature tells us there must be something, there's always something, but whatever that something was it was either too small, too degradable or too soft to leave any decent fossils."

"So expect small, slimy things then. Great."

"Well, not quite," said Connor, quick to correct as always. "I mean, there's lots of things we know of that would fit in these tunnels. It's just that it's hard to tell what lives in a tunnel when the tunnels themselves don't last. I mean: palaeontology would be easy if it turned up perfectly preserved entire ecosystems instead of vague imprints and bits of bone casts."

"And that means what exactly?" Abby was beginning to think that small slimy things sounded a great option.

"Well," Connor drew out the word until Abby wondered whether or not a glare could be felt through utter darkness. Apparently it could. "I mean everything down here is probably down here to hide from all the other stuff up there..."

"But?"

"But nature makes sure that where there's prey, there's predators."

"How big a predator are we talking about, Connor?"

"That kind of depends."

"On what?"

"On the size of the tunnel."

"Well, at least we know how wide it is, right?"

"Not exactly."

Abby felt her stomach sink even further than it already had. Surely not. Oh, he couldn't have could he? Oh, God he had! He'd said they were in a system of tunnels and she'd believed him. No question. She'd assumed he knew they were in tunnels because he, being the taller of them, could feel where the edges were. She'd forgotten that normal logic never seemed to apply to the likes of Connor Temple. She took a deep breath, almost dreading the answer.

"Then how do you know we're in a tunnel?" Abby sighed. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

"There's a breeze coming from the other side of me."

"How do you know that's not from the hole we fell through?"

"It's going the wrong way, and anyway you can barely see the gap because of all the plant stuff in the way."

"Great. Now what do we do?"

"Hole up here for a while?"

Abby glared at him in the darkness. Her silence, if not her glare, seemed to get through to him.

"Sorry, couldn't resist," Connor mumbled.

"Connor, we're stuck underground in total darkness in what you are certain is a system of tunnels filled with unknown types and quantities of creatures. Please try to be serious just for a little bit!"

"Well, it's not total darkness..." Connor began.

"Yes it is: I can't see a thing. Unless of course you're counting the tiny bright spot I can see between all those roots we fell through."

"Stop looking at it."

"What?"

"Stop staring up at where we fell through: it's stopping your eyes from adjusting."

"Oh," Abby frowned at her stupidity. Of course it was.

"Can you stand up?" Connor asked her after a moment. Abby noted that his voice had moved. When had he done that? Got up from her side without her noticing.

"I think so," she grumbled, pushing herself up on her elbows and trying to ignore the complaints from her bruised shoulders and hips.

"Careful: the ceiling's quite low."

Abby rolled herself over onto her knees and waved a hand in the general direction of Connor's voice. She hit something solid and heard him breathe in sharply. That would be his bad leg then. His hand soon grabbed hers though, and she felt him lift her to her feet. And arm wrapped round her waist and held her close. She could feel his breath on her face and, for a second, thought he was going to kiss her. Then she remembered: low ceiling. A tinge of hope fluttered out of its hiding place, was quickly caught and even more quickly locked back away by the disappointment. She could do without that complication right now.

Couldn't she?

XXXX

Danny wandered wearily across the barren wasteland before him. It was still there. He could see it. The bright shining light that had woken him from a restless sleep one night and filled his mind and his vision all through that day and the next. Now here it was: right in front of him. It wasn't the one he'd come through. He knew that. It had been too far away. There was a stream running behind it. He grimaced. He hadn't taken his eyes off the anomaly once since he spotted it. Not once. Not even when his water had run out early that morning, before the full force of the sun had started to drag the moisture from his every breath. He wasn't going to start now. He staggered forwards. Not far now. He could feel the pull of the magnetic field on the iron in his belt buckle, his rucksack, his shoes, even. Staring blindly at the shimmering light in front of him, he dragged his feet the last few steps and tumbled through.