"Aye. One end connects tae yer backpack, the other tae this free-floatin' life-support system." True pointed to a five-foot aluminum barrel. "That unit holds yer backup power source, plus an independent oxygen re-breather an' surface communication system. I had tae add a wee generator tae get enough juice tae feed a' these underwater lights. Two lights are rigged tae yer backpack, one rear-facin', the other forward. The third light'll be hooked up front along yer waistband, allowin' ye tae maneuver it usin' yer claw. It can be turned off an' on independently of the two bigger lights, jist in case ye want tae reserve yer batteries."

"Three lights should be fine."

"Aye, well if it wis me, I'd want a bloody lighthoose beacon comin' oot o' my arse. Now pay attention, we need tae go ower these demolitions."

True pried open a wooden crate and removed a small metal tube about the size of a Cuban cigar, along with a red plastic cap.

"We call this a G-SHOK. On the rig, we use them tae clear away rock an' debris. Comes in two parts. This long piece's the cartridge. It's filled wi' highly compressed liquid gas, at the end of which is a primer. The red cap's an electrical fuse. Pop the cap ower the primer an' it sends a small charge intae the liquid, causin' a chain reaction. Within ten seconds, the gas expands tae 800 times its volume, an' boom."

"How big a boom we talking?"

"Big enough tae split rock. If ye need mair than ten seconds, the fuse igniter can be detonated usin' its timer option. Set the timer on the outside o' the cap frae one tae three minutes, then snap it ower the cartridge, same as before."

"And how am I supposed to carry all this stuff?"

"After we get ye intae the Newt, I'll snap a utility belt roond yer waist. The belt contains compartments for a dozen G-SHOKs an' caps."

"Anything else?"

"There's an auld wool sweater in that box. Better put it on. Suit's heated, but the water gets even colder along the bottom."

I grabbed the garment, then noticed a man walking out along Aldourie Pier.

True stared at the Newt Suit, debating. "Zack… whit if I said there might be another means o' gettin' doon there… ye ken, intae the monster's lair?"

"Hey, isn't that your father?" I pointed to where old man MacDonald was standing, watching us.

"Shyte, it's him a' right."

"What's he doing?"

"Keepin' vigil, nae doubt. Damn Templar."

"What were you saying about accessing the lair?"

"Uh… nothin'. Come on, if ye're gonnae dae this, then let's dae it."

I climbed into the lower torso of the Newt Suit while True connected the umbilical cord to the aluminum barrel and backpack.

"Ye ready then?"