Something shone in the darkness ahead of her: a blood-red light, very dim, but moving. For a horrifying moment, she thought it was a train approaching her through the tunnel, even though any trains should have arrived from behind, not ahead of her. Then her sense of perspective shifted and she realised that the light was a torch being shone in her direction by someone further down the tunnel.
“Hurry, Auger,” she heard a voice call out. “The juice has to come on again in thirty seconds, and the trains will be moving not long after that!”
“Aveling?”
“Keep moving,” he said in reply. “We really don’t have much time.”
“I think a man saw me go into the tunnel.”
“Don’t worry about him.”
As she moved forward, the red light gradually grew brighter. Very faintly, she began to make out the dark outline of a figure crouched close to the wall. It seemed much further away than she had been expecting: voices carried very well down the tunnel.
“Move, Auger,” he hissed.
“I’m doing my best.”
“Good. Don’t trip now, because the rails are electrified.”
“You didn’t have to tell me that. If anything it’s even more likely to make me trip.”
“You have the goods?”
“Yes,” she said, clenching her teeth. “I have the goods.”
As she picked her way forward, the figure with the torch gradually became clearer and, now that her eyes were becoming better adapted to the dark, she could make out a gap in the wall immediately next to him.
“Hurry now. We’re picking up a current draw on the line.”
“Meaning what?”
“That trains are already running again. They won’t waste much time after an intermittent fault, not during the midday rush.”
At last, Auger could see the outline of Aveling’s features. She sped up for the final dozen metres, grasping for the sanctuary of that dark gap in the wall.
“I think I see a train entering Cardinal Lemoine,” Aveling warned.
“I’m nearly there.”
“Train’s moving again. Hurry up, Auger. I’m not standing here for much longer.”
With little attempt to preserve her dignity, he pushed Auger through the crack in the wall, into the darkness beyond. The squeal of the approaching train grew louder, reverberating off the tunnel walls. “Help me with this door,” Aveling said. “We have to get it back into place.”
He guided her hands on to the old wooden door and she felt it shift under the pressure they were applying. The door crunched back into place at the last moment, with the lights of the train shining through the narrowing gap.
“That was close,” Aveling said.
“Do you think anyone on the train saw us?”
“No.”
“What about the man on the platform?” She described him briefly.
“Like I said, don’t worry about him. He’s a confidence trickster, spends all his days on that station snooping for victims. He won’t be reporting anything to the authorities.” He turned off the red torch, then immediately switched on a much brighter white one. Auger squinted against the sudden glare, recognising the cramped and filthy gullet of the access tunnel.
“I repeat: you have the goods?”
“Yes,” she said, wearily. “Like I already told you.”
“Good. I was beginning to worry that you weren’t going to complete your mission. I’m glad to see you’ve decided to act sensibly. Give me the papers.”
“They’re safe with me.”
“I said give them to me, Auger.” Before she could argue, he snatched her bag and flashed the torch on the bundle of documents within. “It doesn’t look like much, does it? Not for all the trouble you’ve gone to.” He pulled the papers out and returned the bag to her.
She thought about Susan White’s likely suspicion that there was someone on the team who couldn’t be trusted. Maybe it was Aveling, maybe it wasn’t, but as long as Auger kept the papers in sight, she reckoned that no immediate harm could come to them. All she had to do was ensure that they made it back to Caliskan.
“I don’t know what any of this is about, Aveling. Right now I’m not even sure I want to know. Can we just get this over with?”
“You won’t be able to return just yet,” he said. “We’re still having some difficulties with the link.”
Another train rumbled through the nearby tunnel, the vibration of its passage dislodging dust from the ceiling of the access shaft.
“Due to the temporary problem you said would be fixed by now?”
“It’s proving to be a little less temporary than we were hoping.” Aveling stopped and shone the torch ahead of them, aiming the beam along the gentle curve of the shaft.
Auger saw his frown. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing. I just thought I heard something.”
“Probably one of your own people at the portal end,” Auger suggested.
Aveling unzipped his jacket and slid the papers snugly inside. “Come on. Let’s move on.”
Auger couldn’t help noticing that he had slipped an automatic out of his jacket at the same time as he hid the papers. The locally made weapon gleamed an oily blue in the torchlight.
“I saw something move,” Auger said suddenly, dropping her voice to a whisper.
The torch beam skittered ahead of them like a nervous animal. “Where?”
“Down the tunnel. Looked like a person, crouching against the wall.” She caught her breath, then added, “It almost looked like a child.”
“A child? Don’t be silly.”
“A child could easily have found their way down here.”
Aveling shook his head, but she could see that he was rattled. She didn’t blame him. She had not enjoyed her previous journey along this tunnel, and she certainly wasn’t enjoying this one.
“Is anyone there?” Aveling called. “Anyone from the portal? Barton—is that you?”
“It wasn’t Barton,” Auger said. “Or Skellsgard, either.”
Aveling fired off a warning shot. The muzzle of the automatic spat orange flame into darkness, the bullet crunching through rock a dozen metres ahead of them. After the report of the gun had faded, echoes marching up and down the shaft for a few tense moments, there was only silence and their own breathing.
“Damn,” Aveling said.
“You saw something?”
“I think I saw something. But maybe it was just you planting the suggestion in my head.”
“You heard something before I saw the child,” Auger pointed out.
“I thought I saw something as well,” Aveling said, sounding a good deal less sure of himself.
“Something like a child?”
“It wasn’t a child. If it was a child, then there was something badly…” But he left the remark uncompleted.
“Something’s not right here,” Auger said. She pressed him against the wall, silencing him with a hiss. “You know it.”
“We’re just seeing shadows.”
“Or something’s gone wrong. I know what I saw. I wasn’t imagining it, even if you think you were.”
He answered her with a hiss of his own, all the while aiming the muzzle of the automatic along the shaft. She noticed that his hand was shaking badly.
“So what are you saying?” he snapped.
“I’m saying we should get out of here before we walk any further into trouble.”