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of Charlie’s frequent
remarks about the length and scope of the tunnel.
    Eventually the group ahead
stopped and formed a queue down the tunnel. They had no choice but to
catch up and join the line.
    “Try and act casual,”
said Ben.
    Ben peered ahead and saw the
tunnel open up to a small room, which people were entering one at a
time. Just before the entrance was a slab of stone jutting from the
ceiling. On it the word “SECURITY” was engraved in Gothic
font. They were glowing, as if LEDs had been embedded into the
letters.
    “If this leads to another
heart-attack-inducing, free-falling lift, I’m turning around,”
Charlie said.
    The queue moved forward quickly
and before Ben knew it, he was next in line, standing at the
entrance.
    The room was small and bare
except for a large woman who stood in the middle. Ben’s blue
eyes strayed past her to a peculiar stone archway that stood just in
front of the exit. It was black and engraved with silver hieroglyphs.
At the top was a large, green eye that looked so real Ben could have
sworn it blinked. He was so captivated by the eye it took a moment to
notice the sign next to him.
    Warning:
    Electronics at serious risk of spontaneous combustion beyond this point. Please
dispense with all such items before proceeding through the arch.
    Maximum penalty for smuggling science: £10,000 and three years in
prison.”
    “We don’t have all
day, luv. Remove all electronics and step through,” the large
woman said, beckoning him impatiently with her hand.
    Her order went in one ear and out
the other the moment he saw what she was wearing. Strapped to her
ample waist was a holster carrying the strangest-looking gun Ben had
ever seen. It was made of wood and the barrel was a gnarled, tapered
stick with no visible exit for bullets. On top of the handle sat a
glass orb, partially encased by delicately carved tendrils of wood.
Inside the orb were dozens of small, coloured pellets that floated
around like they were in water.
    “Just because there’s
no queue behind you doesn’t mean you can stand there like a
lemon,” she said.
    “Sorry,” Ben replied,
pulling himself together and giving her a sheepish smile. He slapped
his jeans, pulled out a mobile phone and looked at her quizzically.
    “In the safe,” she
said, pointing a long, pink-nailed finger at the wall to Ben’s
left.
    Ben saw nothing but stone. There
was clearly no safe anywhere. He walked to the wall anyway, examining
every crevice. When he got there he was forced to give the lady
another enquiring look.
    She rolled her eyes and muttered
something under her breath. Walking over to him, she thrust her hand
out.
    What did she want? Ben thought
fast. He delved into his pocket, past the peculiar piece of fabric,
and pulled out the ID card. She snatched it from him and inserted it
into a tiny gap in the wall. Ben could have spent an hour looking and
not seen it. It was the size of a card slot in an ATM machine.
    There was a soft humming noise
and the stone in front of him faded away, revealing a small empty
cubicle within the wall.
    He stared at the cubicle in
astonishment, thrusting an experimental hand inside.
    “It’s for your phone,
not your hand, luv,” the lady said. “Phone in, card out,
today if possible.”
    Ben did as she asked and the
stone faded back into existence.
    “Step on through,”
the woman ordered.
    Ben wanted to examine the
disappearing stone, but he could feel her growing irritation. He
walked to the exit, approaching the black arch slowly. To his
amazement, the green eye followed his progress. Underneath the arch,
the air appeared to be shimmering and beyond it everything looked out
of focus.
    He could feel the large woman’s
eyes on him. His incompetence was arousing suspicion and he knew he
couldn’t afford to attract any more attention. If she stopped
to question him, they would be in trouble. Trying to ignore the eye,
he passed under the arch. His skin tingled and there was a moment