The Eidolon Read Free Page B

die here? Then focus! The lake, remember? See that, ahead? Liquid water, mirror-smooth, black beneath the mist...
    Nectar. Dark, cold, nectar, trickling down inside. You’re colder now, the shivering hurts. And dizzy. You hate dizzy. You’ve never seen water like this. The sun’s glare hurts your eyes but there’s not a glimmer of light on its surface. The mist is parting, and there’s something behind it. Something dark. Why are you uneasy? You want to get away from it but you don’t have the strength or the will to move.
    Then rest your head, just for a moment. That’s it. Just for a moment.
     
     
    W HAT HAPPENED AGAIN ? There was a storm, wasn’t there? Digging in the snow, the blizzard eating my face, a dark hole, a voice with no words. Danny dangling from a cliff edge – oh, God did he drop? Did I let him drop? What the hell will I tell his parents?
    No, no, he didn’t drop. We had to go down, even in the dark. No question. Great feeling, certainty. Besides, the other man agreed with me.
    Who did? It was just me and Danny. Wasn’t it?
    Cold’s made me crazy, that’s all. Best lie still, a bit longer. Think of home.
    Not much left there for me, not now. When did it all change, again?
     
     
    I T WAS RAINING and cold, a typical February in England. I was late for work – my bike was still at the garage getting repaired, so I hitched a ride in a truck. Thank God for truckers. This trucker’s belly was an appendage on which to rest the steering wheel, and the cabin reeked of smoke.
    “You work at the mine?” he asked after I told him where I was going.
    “Yeah.”
    His eyes narrowed as he glanced from my face to my hands. “You don’t look like a miner.”
    “No. I’m not a miner.”
    “You some kind of manager, then?”
    Maybe I should have walked. A stroll through Middle England in the pissing rain might have been easier. “No, I work in the Dark Matter Research Lab.”
    He frowned.
    “It’s down a mineshaft.” I hoped this might help, but it didn’t. If anything, judging by the way his face folded in on itself, it only made things worse. “So where are you headed?”
    “Whitby, then have to be in Scarborough by ten.”
    “Right.” I watched the fields and woods whip past and yawned. My head felt thick, and it ached.
    “So, what’s dark matter, then?”
    I knew it was coming, and I didn’t have it in me to explain. “It’s the missing piece of the universe.”
    He snorted, “Missing piece? Haven’t we got enough problems already? Sounds like a wild goose chase, if you ask me.”
    Well, I didn’t.
    He shook his head, like people do when they think it’s all a colossal waste of taxpayers’ money. “This do you?” he said, pulling into the lay-by. He peered at the sign that read: Middlesbrough 12 miles and, underneath, Potash Mine ½ mile , with an arrow pointing to the left.
    “Thanks a lot – I appreciate it.”
    I jumped down from the truck and waved as he pulled away, then ran the half-mile down the road that led to nowhere but the mine.
    Tall, grey chimneys puffing out smoke struck into the sky, a collage of drab buildings huddled low around them. The hum of machinery quivered on the air and the smell of diesel was thick that day. It used to make me feel queasy, but you get used to it. The changing rooms were empty – I was really late – and after donning the orange suit and helmet – safety first – I headed for the entrance to the lab. It’s not a very grand entrance, given what goes on down there. It’s nothing short of a disappointment. If it weren’t for the sign above it which reads:
     
    DARK MATTER RESEARCH LABORATORY
    RESTRICTED ACCESS
    AUTHORISED PERSONEL ONLY
     
    you’d walk right past it. It’s always dim in the entranceway. I used to think of all the people who work in the finance sector in somewhere like London or New York whenever I pulled back the caged door to the lift-shaft. They’d be wearing suits as they walked up those broad, smooth steps