Almost done! …For now.
“So, ‘flashlighter’ is a new insult,” Jim muttered to Alex as they half-crawled through yet another tunnel. This one was decidedly narrow, dirty, and decidedly snug; Jim decided it was a good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic. Yet. “For surface-dwellers, I mean.”
“It’s actually just ‘flasher,’” Alex said. “The sepoys used to try to blind morlocks by bringing huge flashlights along when they raided. The kind that can burn paper. Didn’t work, but the name stuck.”
“Well, sure. It’s a good slur. Short, easy to spit, and suggests the target’s some kind of sex fiend. Why do you think the flasher came back here?”
“I was hoping to ask him that, Sir James. Although the choices are limited. Either he left something behind, or there’s something here he wanted to retrieve. Since Charlie’s mam didn’t find any spare scraps, I’m thinking it’s the second one — ah. Here’s the hatch.”
Jim peered around Alex in order to take a closer look at it. The hatch looked big enough to allow one person at a time, was made of steel, and didn’t move when Alex pushed on it. “The locks are all digital,” he said. “Fancy. And expensive. Just how rich is this village, anyway?”
“Very, it seems. Hold on a moment.” Alex fished in her pocket and pulled out a metal rod about half a foot long. She touched it to the hatch, which silently slid to one side, revealing… a supply closet.
“Nice,” Jim said. “Does that work on every security system?”
“No, alas.” Alex stopped, considering. “Or maybe that should be ‘No, thank God.’ I wouldn’t like it if the government could rummage through my private things. The probe does work on any lock or security system issued by the Crown, though.”