Charles Sheffield - The Amazing Dr. Darwin

“If the Treasure of Odirex is in there, it has waited for you for fifteen hundred years. It can wait another day. Let us begin the descent.”

They retraced their steps, Jacob very reluctantly, to the downward path. In a few dozen paces they were clear of the fringes of the Helm. And there they stopped. While they had examined the entrance to the mine, the cloud cover had increased rapidly. Instead of seeing a moon shining strongly through light, broken clumps, they were limited to occasional fleeting glimpses through an almost continuous mass of clouds.

Jacob Pole shrugged, and looked slyly at Darwin. “This is bad, Erasmus. We can’t go down in this light. It would be suicide. How long is it until dawn?”

“Nearly four hours, at a guess. It’s bad luck, but we are only a week from winter solstice. There’s nothing else for it, we must settle down here and make the best of it, until dawn comes and we have enough light to make a safe descent.”

“Aye, you’re right.” Jacob Pole turned and looked thoughtfully back up the hill. “Since we’re stuck here for hours, Erasmus, wouldn’t it make sense to use the time, and take a quick look inside the entrance of the mine? After all, we do have the lanterns—and it may well be warmer inside.”

“—or drier, or any other of fifty reasons you could find for me, eh?” Darwin held his lantern up to Pole’s face, studying the eyes and the set of the mouth. He sighed. “I don’t know if you’re shivering with excitement or malaria, but you need warmth and rest. I wonder now about the wisdom of this excursion. All right. Let us go back up to the mine, on two conditions: we descend again to Heartsease at first light, and we take no risks of becoming lost in the mine.”

“I’ve been in a hundred mines, all over the world, and I have yet to get lost in one. Let me go first. I know how to spot weak places in the supports.”

“Aye. And if there’s treasure to be found—which I doubt—I’d not be the one to deprive you of the first look.”

Jacob Pole smiled. He placed one lantern on the ground, unshuttered. “Let this stay here, so Richard and Anna can see it. Remember, we promised to signal them every three hours that all is well. Now, let’s go to it—fiends or no fiends.” He turned to begin the climb back to the abandoned mine. As he did so, Darwin caught the expression on his face. He was nervous and pale, but in his eyes was the look of a small child approaching the door of a toy shop.

On a second inspection, made this time with the knowledge that they would be entering and exploring it, the mine tunnel looked much narrower and the walls less secure. Jacob, lantern partially shuttered to send a narrow beam forward, led the way. They went cautiously into the interior of the shaft. After a slight initial upward slant, the tunnel began to curve down, into the heart of the hill. The walls and roof were damp to the touch, and every few yards small rivulets of water ran steadily down the walls, glistening like a layer of ice in the light of the lantern.

Thirty paces on, they came to a branch in the tunnel. Jacob Pole bent low and studied the uneven floor.

“Left, I think,” he whispered. “What will we do if we meet the things that live here?”

“You should have asked that question before we set out,” replied Darwin softly. “As for me, that is exactly what I am here for. I am less interested in any treasure.”

Jacob Pole stopped, and turned in the narrow tunnel. “Erasmus, you never cease to amaze me. I know what drives me on, what makes me willing to come into a place like this at the devil’s dancing-hour. And I know that I’m in a cold sweat of fear and anticipation. But why aren’t you terrified? Don’t you think a meeting with the fiends would carry great danger for us?”

“Less danger than you fear. I assume that these creatures, like ourselves, are of natural origin. If I am wrong on that , my whole view of the world is wrong. Now, these fiends hide on the fell, and they come out only at night. There are no tales that say they kill people, or capture them. So I believe that they fear us —far more than we fear them.”

“Speak for yourself,” muttered Pole.

“Remember,” Darwin swept on, “when there is a struggle for living space, the stronger and fiercer animals drive out the weaker and more gentle—who then must perforce inhabit a less desirable habitat if they are to survive. For example, look at the history of the tribes that conquered Britain. In each case—”

“Sweet Christ!” Jacob Pole looked round him nervously. “Not a lecture, Erasmus. This isn’t the time or the place for it. And not so loud! I’ll take the history lesson some other time.”

He turned his back and led the way into the left branch of the tunnel. Darwin sniffed, then followed. He was almost fat enough to block the tunnel completely, and had to walk very carefully. After a few steps he stopped again and looked closely at a part of the tunnel wall that had been shored up with rough timbers.

“Jacob, bring the light back for a moment, would you? This working has been used recently—new wood in some of the braces. And look at this.”

“Sheep wool, caught on the splintered wood here. It’s still dry. We’re on the correct path all right. Keep going.”

“Aye. But what now?”

Pole pointed the beam from the lantern ahead, to where the tunnel broadened into a domed chamber with a smooth floor. They walked forward together. At the other side of the chamber was a deep crevasse. Across it, leading to a dark opening on the other side, ran a bridge of rope guides and wooden planks, secured by heavy timbers buttressed between floor and ceiling. Pole shone his lantern across the gap, into the tunnel on the other side, but there was nothing to be seen there. They walked together to the edge.

“It looks sturdy enough. What do you think, Erasmus?”

“I think we have gone far enough. It would be foolhardy to risk a crossing. What lies below?”

Pole swung the lantern to throw the beam downward. The pit was steep sided. About eight feet below the brink lay black, silent water, its surface smooth and unrippled. To right and left, the drowned chasm continued as far as the lantern beam would carry. Pole swung the light back to the bridge, inspecting the timbers and supporting ropes.

“Seems solid to me. Why don’t I take a quick look at the other side, while you hold the lantern.”

Darwin did not reply at once. He was staring down into the crevasse, a puzzled frown on his heavy face.

“Jacob, cover the lantern for a moment. I think I can see something down there, like a faint shining.”

“Like gold?” The voice was hopeful. Pole shuttered the lantern and they stared in silence into the darkness. After a few moments, it became more visible to them. An eerie, blue-green glow lit the pit below, beginning about three feet below the lip and continuing to the water beneath. As their eyes adjusted, they began to see a faint pattern to the light.

“Jacob, it’s growing there. It must be a moss, or a fungus. Or am I going blind?”

“It’s a growth. But how can a living thing glow like that?”

“Some fungi shine in the dark, and so do some animals—glowworms, and fireflies. But I never heard of anything like this growth. It’s in regular lines—as though it had been set out purposely, to provide light at the bridge. Jacob, I must have a sample of that!”

In the excited tone of voice, Pole recognized echoes of his own feelings when he thought about hunting for treasure. Darwin knelt on the rocky floor, then laboriously lowered himself at full length by the side of the chasm.

“Here, let me do that, Erasmus. You’re not built for it.”