Explore "Anything you can Do" by Randall Garrett on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The big tunnel inside the cliff was long and black, and the air was stale and thick with the stench of rodents. Stanton stood still for a minute, stretching his muscles. Crawling through that cramped little opening had not been easy. He looked around him, trying to probe the luminescent gloom that the goggles he wore brought to his eyes.
The tunnel stretched out before him -- on and on. Around him was the smell of viciousness and death. Ahead.