As Scott splashed along soaking walls, dressed head to toe in bulky diving gear and lugging spelunking equipment and a medical pack, he recalled quite clearly now that he hated enclosed spaces. Hated them.

Especially when they were dark, claustrophobic, sticky-damp places like this. Scott had already crawled over half a mile and change underground. The walls were slippery with trickling moisture, and barely any of the tunnels had proved sympathetic to his six-foot-two frame, requiring him to resort to a hunched, crablike walk to navigate them. Alan ploughed ahead of him, also squeezing between narrow, ill-defined tunnels of slimy rock. The bluish glare of the IR heat-tracker he carried bounced coolly off the dripping water and the shinier parts of their diving equipment.

"We're nearly there, Scott!" Alan suddenly cheered. His voice echoed.

"That's great - whereabouts?"

"Somewhere around this left section of tunnel." Alan splashed ahead. "See how the water's rising?"

"Yeah, I see it," Scott grunted. "So the rockfall is somewhere close."

"Gotta be." Alan lifted the tracker up higher - it beeped a little faster and Scott could see larger blue blobs on its display. "Picking up movement all right!"

"Great, let's get to it." Scott picked up speed. He put a hand to the laser-cutting torch. As he did, he slipped a little on a loose rock under his feet, and the flashlight on his shoulder illuminated reddish liquid in the water.

"This is it," Alan said. "Looks like we found the cave-in."

Scott whistled. Huge cyclopean blocks had fallen across a large entrance. The luckless group of cave-explorers who'd found their way here were probably somewhere just behind it. "Let's hope Brains' gadget here is right again."

"Of course it's right," Alan harrumphed, making Scott grin despite himself.

"Oh, I forgot...Tin- Tin worked on it, too..." He'd put the medical equipment on top of the water, where it floated on a small inflatable raft.

"And it works," Alan said. "Those spelunkers can't be more than ten feet away."

"Let's see how deep it goes," Scott lifted up a large drill- like machine and pushed its tip against the front of the biggest-looking block of stone. He flicked a switch and it thunked into the rock. A display came to life in front of him, giving Scott a detailed impression of the dimensions blocking the tunnel and specs on the type of laser cutter they were going to need to slice through it.

"Looks like granite. About eight metres. Followed by two more of limestone." Scott made adjustments to the calibration of his cutting torch and Alan did the same. "Should take about 30 minutes."

Alan nodded tightly. "Let's hope they have that long."

The two brothers began to slice into the rock, the process resembling the famous image of 'hot knife into butter'. Even after six months, Scott still marvelled at this particular breakthrough. Brains was justly proud of them, too - laser cutters no bigger than a pocket flashlight but possessing the cutting power of six crates of oxyhydnite. And without any of the complications. Brains had been particularly pleased with that last advancement - although, admittedly, the chances of accidentally chopping off their own feet had also increased substantially.

The water was almost at their hips now, but Scott was still pleased at how they were progressing. "We're almost..."

A deep chunk collapsed down into the hole they were cutting, opening up a channel for water to start spurting out. "Masks!" Scott said.

They shielded their faces, letting the water absorb and dispel, leaving their vision clear as they worked. After a few moments of this, Scott noticed that more and more of the water was coming out red.

"It's red!" Alan said.

"I know. Could be iron ore deposits," Scott said. "Probably some run-off."

"Or we nicked someone..." Alan's voice trailed off.

Scott forced his mutual fear all the way down. "Not likely, Alan. We're still not even through the rock!"

"But we've reached the water," Alan said.

"Yeah. We've cleared the blockage that caused the flood. Not long now." Scott nudged him and they started to remove the slices of rock, pushing them out and cutting them down into smaller pieces. "Draining some of this should give the folks in there a lot more time."

In a delicate network of caves like this, there was really no good place to take the Mole without bringing the rest of the rockfall and probably half the cave structure on top of the survivors. Virgil was waiting in the big drilling machine near the surface. After surveying the situation and the geological reports, Scott had judged it would be easier to get survivors that could walk back to that point, and then stabilise the area from within to pull out anyone who couldn't move under their own power.

As the red water continued to drain, Scott and Alan worked faster, slicing their way deeper into the tunnel. Even at the fastest safe speed, it still took them another ten minutes.

"We're nearly through," Scott cheered at last. "Pull up the med-pac, Alan."

"FAB."

The final layer of rock was barely a centimetre thick. Scott put the laser on its shortest setting and cut a large space to get through, then slid it away on all sides. It crumbled and scattered into the tunnel around him. Scott's shoulder light beamed into the cave.

He grimaced at what he saw.

There were fifteen people huddled in the water-drenched space. The two nearest to him were obviously dead, crushed, he guessed, by the rock fall. He heard laboured breathing in the silent space - ten pairs of eyes turned to look at him, their faces waxy with shock and cold.

"We're from International Rescue," Scott assured them. He climbed down into the space. "We're going to help you, don't worry." Alan handed him the med pac and Scott pulled it down into the centre of the cave. It wasn't so cramped in here - a wide dark space about the size of the lounge in his family's villa. Water splashed against his calves as he started to check the survivors.

He heard Alan land in the pool of water. "Check the people on the left," Scott said. "I'll get to work with these."

"FAB." He heard Alan make his way over there.

Scott pulled open the medpac and extracted a couple of raftpaks, tossing one to Alan. The rafts unfurled and filled in seconds, and then they could start helping the stranded spelunkers out of the water. When they were all safely afloat, he started cracking open warming blankets, wrapping them around shivering shoulders and pulling the self-heating tabs.

"Virgil," Scott opened up the microphone as he worked, "we've found them all. Tell Gordon to follow our trail with emergency evac for five people. We have two dead, looks like three missing."

"Three missing?" Virgil's voice crackled over the radio, "How the...did...lose them?"

"I'll ask. Speak later."

"FAB. Gordon's...his way." Virgil signed off.

Scott and Alan worked for about twenty minutes, prepping and reviving the group. Gordon had followed their trail and the operation was going surprisingly smoothly.

"I'm going to look for the three missing people," he murmured.

"Do you know where to start?" Gordon glanced around the soggy cave. Water continued to pour in, but the tunnel they'd dug drained it more safely away.

Scott picked up the tracker again. "I'll see if they're close. You and Alan get the last of them out of here."

"But what if there's another cave in?" Gordon said.

"Then you'll know where to find me," Scott said.

Scott spoke to one of the victims, a red-haired man with big dark eyes, who was looking more alert than the rest. Scott had learned his name whilst he worked. "Hang in there, George, you're getting out of here soon," he assured him.

The man smiled faintly.

Scott said, "We were told there were eighteen of you in here. Now do you have any idea where the other three could have gone?"

The man seemed to think for a moment. He pulled the warming blanket around him more tightly. He said, "Another...tunnel..."

"That's good. Where is it?"

George pointed with one finger through the blanket. He said. "Over there. In that corner. Walk towards it. The angle..."

Scott said, "I don't see it."

"Go closer. You'll find it."

"What're their names?"

"A family. The Curwens. They went down there first...then it seemed to block after the tremor..." George broke into a spasm of coughing, shivering hard. Scott patted him on the shoulder and backed away to let Alan and Gordon help him out of the cave.

"We'll be back soon, Scott. We won't leave without you!" Alan called.

"Don't make me wait, guys," Scott called back.

Then he was alone in the cave, with just the two half-crushed bodies for company, demurely concealed in their black body bags. The dead would be the last to leave, of course.

The medpac's green glow rippled off the slick walls wherever his own shoulder-beam failed to pierce. Scott searched around for openings, and failing to find any, he headed for the corner George had pointed out. He was unconvinced that a tunnel could possibly exist - it looked like a big slab of rock and nothing else.

While he looked, he suddenly heard a faint, shrill noise. He tilted his head, trying to tell where it came from. He breathed in and out four times, deep and slow, before he heard the shrill sound again. He stared into the shadow, leaning his head forward.

The sound echoed through for a third time, much nearer his head. Scott took a step closer, about to open his mouth and shout and answer. His boot skidded on a loose rock and he put a hand out to save his footing.

Instead, his hands clawed clear air and he tripped unceremoniously forward into the dark. He swung out wildly to catch his balance - his hands slithered along a greasy surface. He tried to right himself, only to slide down onto his knees. The floor had become a weird, flexible mass which offered almost no support, and Scott fought to get back on his feet, reaching out, snatching at oddly shaped masses that slipped out of his grasp. He rolled over and began trying frantically to push himself back up to the greenish light of the first cave.

His own torch was revealing pools of reddish stone that felt strangely spongy against his hands. Scott dug his short nails into it, clawing for purchase. After another ten metres of undignified skidding and sliding, he finally connected with a pointed rock that actually gave him something to hold onto, and with a grunt he was back on his feet.

Scott let out an annoyed breath and turned his torso around, trying to get an idea of this unlikely place. He'd somehow fallen into a narrow, slanting tunnel that was coated with the strangest rock formation he'd ever seen. It more closely resembled a lump of bad steak - all dark reds and burned off browns, glistening and definitely unappetising in such a mass. It almost seemed to quiver as he looked.

Now Scott took another deep breath, the air smelt odd. He couldn't define it as anything except - organic.

He tried to climb up again, but his hands disappeared into the wet floor up to his wrists, and came back coated in a sticky slime. Revolted, Scott rubbed the slime off as best he could against the rock, and then turned around the other way. There was a roll of the dark red mass curled on the floor ahead of him, about two metres away. A wider space behind it suggested a way out, or at least a way to somewhere else. Scott reached out a hand and walked carefully over to the larger lump on the floor. It was a lot like ice skating - without the skates. He braced himself on the edges of the opening, trying to see into the dark beyond his flashlight.

He heard water now. It lapped against soft stone, and the air felt far cooler here. There was normal rock under his feet again. Scott took a step out, then another. His left foot splashed water on his next step - he pulled it back sharply.

Staying carefully in one place this time, he took another look around, his flashlight illuminating more of this new cave. Now his eyes were slowly adjusting, he made out that he'd come to the edge of a great lake. There was a narrow path around it, not more than half a metre wide that he could see. Mostly it was covered by a damp greyish rock, the cave air was calm except for the lapping of water and the drip of more restless water - although it didn't seem to be flooding here thankfully. Scott edged another step back from the lake.

Something wasn't adding up here. He'd fallen down some sort of tunnel - yet those people he'd just left behind had said they'd had been trapped in their cave. Why hadn't they escaped down this tunnel too? Then again, it was well hidden - and he'd just stumbled on it. But George had known it was there...

He frowned, considering the options. Practicality took over. Best to look for the Curwens and then get out of here asap. Scott opened his microphone, the crackle from it bursting loud into the air. It went mute when he pressed the button to speak. "Vir..."

The thin, far off scream came again. It was a scream - Scott was now certain. It cut across the calm and sounded so wretched and despairing it drew an uneasy shudder from his spine. Cut it out, Tracy. Someone's in trouble.

Scott shouted, "Hello? Hey - where are you?"

A burst of static came from his radio, something that might have been words buried under it. "Virgil? Is that you?"

Now there was nothing.

The scream came again, more forceful than ever. Scott flipped off the radio. He took the flashlight off his shoulder and moved it around, "Can you see my light?" he yelled.

He heard the scream again. It was far closer this time - he thought it was female. He edged around the path. "Hello?" he shouted.

There was a wider path ahead - it opened to a plateau the length of a school bus as he turned the corner. That same reddish rock trailed in long veins across the floor and walls. He could see a figure now, half- crouched on the far side of the flat rock, right at the water's edge. It was dressed in a dark climbing outfit - its tight fabric confirming that its wearer was a woman. She had long loose blonde hair.

Scott jogged towards her. "Hey!"

She stood up - he saw her pale features, a slash of red colour across her lips. Scott put out a hand to reassure her, and then he glanced down. What he'd at first taken for another rock emerged into his light. It was the body of a man, half turned on his side, legs and arms at an unnatural angle.

"It's all right." Scott came closer. "I'm here to help. Are you one of the Curwens...?"

The woman held up a climbing pickaxe - he stopped his advance. "Take it easy now..."

"Yog sothoth kell tarnath. Azathoth kell LI!" she hissed at him, raising the pickaxe.

"Now wait a minute, you don't wanna..."

"Yog-sothoth tel karnak!" she whirled and stabbed the pickaxe edge into the belly of the man who lay prone beside her. The man gave a hideous scream and went limp.

"Shit!" Scott ran forwards. Dropping his light, he leapt at her, using his considerable strength to wrest the weapon from her hand. She struggled, yelling and crying out, but Scott managed to keep a hold of her until she finally quit fighting him. She stared down, her hair obscuring her face, breathing hard in his arms.

Scott caught his breath, still holding her tightly. The blood of the man she'd attacked ran into the water. "What...what the hell is going on down here? Why did you do that?"

The woman made a couple of harsh noises that could have been laughter. Scott blinked. He thought she'd said something else, too.

Whatever the story, Scott figured out he'd better fix it so he didn't follow the poor bastard she'd just eviscerated. He reached for the kit on his belt and pulled out a short length of rope. He manoeuvered her so he could tie up her hands behind her back. She struggled again, violently. He pulled the ropes as tight as he could.

Watching her warily, he squatted down to check the condition of the man on the ground. He was quite dead.

The woman stared at him.

"We just rescued all your friends up there," he said. "They're all going to be safe, now. I don't know what just happened here, but you're going to be fine. All right?"

No response. He looked at the body again. "What's your name? And who was this?"

She didn't reply, just staring at him with huge green eyes.

Scott scowled. "Fine. Can you at least tell me where the third one of you is?"

Her eyes darted sideways, past his shoulder. She whispered, "In the lake."

Scott looked out across the murky water. Dark ripples spread up and down the grey rock shore near his boots; coloured with the dead man's blood. He said tightly, "Did you put him there, too?"

"No. He went...underneath."

She tilted her head, seeming to notice the insignia on his wetsuit for the first time. "You're from International Rescue."

"That's right," Scott said. She seemed to be making more sense now, and he was willing to believe that shock had played some sort of role in her earlier craziness. Well, willing to believe to a point. After all, he'd just seen her kill a man with an axe. "Let's get you out of here."

"Whatever you say," she said calmly.

"Right," Scott said, unable to think of anything else sensible to say. He started to take her arm to guide her back toward the tunnel he'd come from, when he stopped, abruptly. Somewhere out there in the darkness of the lake, he'd heard a splash.

He turned quickly, in time to see steady ripples slide towards them on the surface. "What was that?"

There was an expression he could only describe as smug, on her face.

Scott watched the water closely for a few minutes. The lake eventually calmed again. Nothing moved and there were no more ripples. Nonetheless, he was fighting the feeling that he needed to get out of here, and quickly.

No shit, he thought, and looked again at the dead man. Time to go.

He flipped on the communicator. "Virgil, are you there?"

There was a long, worrying hiss on the other end. Scott took off his wrist comm., and connected it with the communicator to boost the signal. Finally, a fuzzy picture of his brother appeared on the screen.

"There...ou are!" Virgil's deep voice echoed along the water.

"Yeah, I've found a survivor. She's...well, no time to explain now. But we've got to get her out of here." Scott explained about the slick tunnel. "I'll need you to..."

There was a wet, distinctly sucking sound. Scott turned slowly, the hair on the back of his neck crackling with tension. The woman was rigid, staring at the water. It was rippling rapidly at almost the exact point where...

"Wait a minute...where..?" Scott breathed out, taking a step forwards.

The dead man had disappeared. Scott held out the flashlight, sending it shimmering across the ripples. They seemed to spread out from several different spots in the lake, but there was no sound except the steady damp dripping all around him. And no sign of the corpse.

"Where did he go?" Scott breathed. "What happened to him..."

"The sacrifice...the stars...we are almost ready." She laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"What stars? What are you talking about..?" He heard the water ripple again. Again, there was just that deep, cool silence marked by passive, dripping water. He moved, slowly and cautiously, to the point where the dead man had lain just a moment ago. It was so quiet. He scanned the water with his flashlight again, peering into crevices and dark lumps of rock around the edge. Nothing looked remotely like a dead body.

"Scott?" Virgil's voice crackled over the radio again, almost making him jump a foot in the air. "...hell is...ing on? Where...you?"

Scott took another long look at the water before saying, "I'll explain later. Pull me out."

"You...kay?" Virgil's voice disappeared again.

"Yes, Virg, I'm fine. Stand by. Have Gordon ready to get me and one survivor out of this place. I'm coming back."

"FAB. But are you...?"

"Just do it. Please."

Scott pulled the woman upright. She tilted her head so that she could watch the water. "The lake took him," she said, suddenly.

"What?"

She just looked at him, green eyes crinkling with what looked, incredibly, like amusement. Looney tunes, for sure. "All right, come on," he said. "Time to get you and me back above ground."

He took hold of her arms and guided her from behind along the grey rocks. She went as directed without the slightest resistance. Her breathing was the loudest thing in the cave, steady but oddly tense. Scott was still wary, listening to the lake; he glanced over his shoulder a few times. What am I expecting to see? A monster rising from the deep, like in one of Gordon's movies? Get a grip, Tracy.

They were almost at the tunnel entrance. Scott said, "Virgil, we're almost there, tell Gordon..."

"Scott...can't find...tunnel," Virgil said. "Are...sure..?"

"I know it's not easy to locate, but you should have been able to find it by now. Use the imager." Scott said impatiently.

"We are, Scott," Gordon said, his much-closer communicator almost static free. "But it's just not appearing!"

"That's impossible. How do you think I got down here? Gordon - shut down the radio for a second. Keep your ears open." Scott moved into the sloping tunnel again. It was sticky to his touch, red and meaty inside. He shouted his loudest up into the centre of it. "Can you hear me now? Gordon! We're down here!"

His voice echoed up inside it, and he waited silently for a response. Scott heard a whisper coming back down after a moment, and flipped on the radio. "Was that you, Gordon?"

"Yeah!" Gordon said. "But I still can't see where the sound's coming from!"

"Keep looking. Follow my voice. And go careful. Alan's with you, isn't he?"

"I'm here, Scott," Alan cut in.

"Good. Look out when you find the tunnel. Don't fall in after me!"

"We heard about your little trip, Scott," Gordon definitely sounded like he was grinning. "Want us to send down a new hip?"

"Yeah, old age makes fools of us all, right, Gordo?" Alan chimed in.

"More like makes invalids out of us all," Gordon quipped back.

Scott said, "Funny, fellas. Tell you what, you get us out of here and I won't bang your heads together. Much. Now get looking!"

The echoes from above filtered through the weird tunnel walls. Scott brought the blonde woman up to the entrance. "Is this the only way?"

She looked up, smiling a little to herself. She said, "Yes. Through its teeth. The only way."

Scott nodded, not bothering to reply now. She was crazy, beyond all doubt. Once they were out of here, she could get help someplace and that would be the end of this sorry mess. He wished he could say the same for the man they'd left down there at the lake.

He took hold of her arms. "When my buddies figure out where we are, I'll need to put a rope around you. It'll be easy, I promise."

"Aren't you going to untie me?" she inquired.

Scott said stiffly, "No. Sorry. I think you can guess why..."

The woman suddenly froze in his grip. Then her shoulders started shivering, her breath coming in short little gasps. She twisted to look behind them. Scott snapped his head around to follow her gaze.

That splashing sound again... Scott's stomach churned. He shone the beam across the water.

The lake was no longer still. It was swirling in agitated waves, curdling into froth.

She said, "It's going to kill us!" She shouted strange words again, like she had uttered right before she cut the man open with the axe. Then she made fists and yelled, "We had a deal! Stupid beast!"

She looked at Scott then and spoke with utter certainty. "It's going to kill us."

He stared at her. "What's going to kill us?"

"Bastard!" she shouted at the lake, continuing in those words he didn't understand. The water frothed and surged. Whatever was down there, it was angry as hell.

What was worse, the longer he looked, the more obvious it became that there was something big moving amongst the waves, thrashing with long, dangling limbs.

Scott stared at it for a brief moment then swivelled and yelled up, "Gordon, damnit! We're down here!" He had no idea if his brother could hear him. Now the woman was muttering some of the crazy words over and over in a way that was steadily driving him nuts. Scott grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

"Stop that. We're climbing out," he told her.

Scott pulled out a pistol from inside his belt. It was tiny, barely the size of his hand, but it packed an important kick. "This'll pull at least one person out. Might even take two."

"What...?"

The slithering sound grew much louder. He forced himself to ignore it, to push down the realisation, it's heard us. It knows... With a few swift moves he attached his belt to her using a sturdy spring clip. Then he lifted the flashlight from his shoulder and held its beam above the pistol. "Keep still," he ordered. She was shivering fiercely against him now. Despite her anger, she was also scared to death, he realized.

The thing was moving beyond the lake - getting nearer. He kept his hands as steady as he could while he aimed the pistol at the crevice where, he fervently hoped, it would lift them to the cave at the top.

"Brace yourself," he said. She tensed against him.

Scott fired the pistol. It let off a loud bark of sound in the enclosed walls, the explosive charge rocketing the metal anchor like a Fourth of July firework to the wall above. He heard it thunk satisfyingly into the rock, then the second explosion as it shoved its way into place. Now a cable attached him to the top of the cave. Scott tucked his light back onto his shoulder. He grabbed the woman's waist, heard her gasp, and flicked another catch on the pistol.

The cable drew them smoothly up along the slippery surface, pulling them at the angle. They made it twenty feet before he felt something grasp at his foot, wrap tightly around his boot and give an almighty tug. He yelled out in surprise and pain, feeling the strain from his knuckles and down to his leg. It yanked at him again. Scott clenched every muscle, willing the pain away. He heard the woman screaming by his ear.

He made the mistake of looking down - the flashlight caught its glistening outline. Thick tentacled shapes whipped around beneath him, the longest one had him hooked and was doggedly drawing him and the murderess back toward it. Scott wriggled like bait on a hook, yelling each time it dragged on him. He fumbled in his belt as the thing whipped out another grey octopus arm, sucking onto the woman's leg this time, giving an almighty wrench.

Half mad with pain and terror, fighting confusion, Scott found what he was looking for. He tightened his fingers around the silver cigar shape of his laser cutter.

He pointed down - it was everywhere down there, no need for any kind of aim - and fired.

Nothing happened.

For a moment he didn't understand. Then it hit him. The laser torch was still calibrated on the shortest beam setting. He felt muscles in his arms scream as the thing pulled again on his foot and the hand holding him and the woman up here. Scott flicked the setting to max, ignoring the warning light. He fired again.

The beam sliced in a white light down the slick walls, causing the meaty texture to burst open in a river of red water. It struck into the big grey thing below, and there was an instant, inhuman squeal unlike anything he'd ever heard. There was another, wild tug that threatened to dislocate every joint. Scott swore at it, firing again and again.

Scott risked a long carving beam along the very tip of where it had his foot - the tentacle released him in a burst of acute pain, blood flowed back into his limb. He hit the line retractor again. The rope creaked - he realised it had been overstretched. He furiously dug for purchase on the cave surface. It was still impossible to get any hold at all on the mucus-lined tunnel.

The woman was slipping around, too. She shouted, "It's still there!"

It was moving, he could see - slow and confused almost - but there was something even stranger. The slick tunnel walls were oozing where he'd cut it with the beam, welling up like wounds trying to heal. Scott frowned at once - and something round and pale in the ceiling blinked back.

His mind shut down for a moment. Then there was a shout above him...a welcome, human shout.

"Scott!" It was Gordon's voice. "Scott? Are you there?"

"Here!" Scott shouted. "Here! We're halfway up! And there's two of us!"

A moment later, a thick rope fell down beside him. Scott said, "Hang on. I won't drop you, I promise."

Now he wished he'd untied her as she'd wanted him to. Unable to hold on to him, she was a dead weight on the hook at his waist as he lunged for the rope. His palm slid down a few inches before it stopped and he hung on fast. Then he reangled his position. He released the first lifeline and gripped Gordon's rope with the other hand too. Then he hooked himself to it. Scott clung on grimly onto with one hand before he wrapped his left arm back around her waist and pulled her up.

There wasn't much left in his muscles. "Pull!" he yelled. Inch by inch they lifted. A glance down confirmed that the tentacles were shifting again, whipping furiously in the bloody darkness below.

They held on doggedly, staring down, waiting for it to grab them. It burbled and slurped at the end of the slope - wriggling obscenely in the shadows. It seemed to have as much trouble with the slippery walls as they'd had. Scott didn't even breathe until a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders.

"Scott! I thought we wouldn't ever find that goddamn tunnel!" Gordon hauled him up. "Grendal here helped us out." There was a short blond man standing beside him, bearing a passing resemblance to the woman Scott had just rescued.

Scott said, "Get back from the entrance!" He swung round and unhooked himself - the woman had come out at the same time and he released her from his belt. "Do it, there's something down there!"

"What?" Gordon asked.

Scott said, "I can't explain it. Maybe she can." He added. "Thanks, Gordon."

"Why are Chastity's hands tied?" Grendal inquired.

"Chastity? You're called..." Scott paused, unable to believe such an inappropriate name. "Really?"

The woman looked at him. "Yes."

"Oh. Well, sorry," he said to Grendal, "But I just saw her kill someone, and it might have been a member of her own family."

Gordon's eyes were wide. Scott saw the questions and said, "No more now. We have to get back to the surface."

He thought he heard a slithering noise, and turned rapidly back the way they'd come.

There was no tunnel. The walls were blank.

Scott stood there for a long moment, breathing really hard as reality threatened to melt around him.

Gordon said, "What was that?"

"Something bad. Come on." Scott held up the laser torch. "I'll explain when we get out of here. Move!"

Gordon didn't hesitate.

Even as they left, he swore he could still hear the thing, somewhere back in the caves. As they stretched and squeezed through the narrow tunnels, he kept a wary eye over his shoulder and his ears were sensitive to the slightest odd slither.

They finally joined Virgil in the Mole.

"What happened down there?" Virgil inquired.

"I'll explain later," Scott said, avoiding his eyes. Now he was out of that place, he didn't see how he could even begin to tell the truth about what he had seen. What he thought he'd seen. Because surely things like that didn't exist, did they...?

As his brother started the big drilling machine and began to pull them back out of the tunnel, Chastity looked at Scott from across on the other bench. He had the most uncomfortable feeling that she knew exactly what he was thinking.

He clenched his jaw, deciding there and then what he had to do.

"Scott, where are you going?" Virgil called to him once they were back in Thunderbird Two's pod.

The Curwens were standing with the rest of the survivors from the caves. Chastity's hands were still bound - Scott met her cool green stare again and from somewhere a deep shudder racked him.

"Get her up to sick bay, Virg. And keep an eye on her. I'll be right up." He passed by without comment, fiddling with a couple of equipment benches until he heard the elevator close and whip upwards behind him.

He headed straight to set of lockers, painted dark military green with DANGER - EXPLOSIVES stencilled on them in white. Using a set of keys from around his neck, he unlocked one and took out a large bundle of what looked at first glance like a silver baseballs. They were marked on the side in large print: PBX.

Plastic Bonded Explosive.

Scott slung them over his shoulder and carried them out of the pod. Brains' latest invention was going to be a lot more help. Enough of these little beauties and that thing down there - whatever it was - would never haunt anyone's nightmares again. Ever.

Or so he fervently hoped.