"Under the fish, now!" John hissed over his shoulder.

Josef didn't chance peeking ahead and instead let himself shrivel down among the gujai. He'd become moderately used to their smell, but it was still repugnant. He followed Claudius's lead and made sure his face was adequately hidden by gujai fins.

Josef then heard John yell out a greeting to the Ba'ha regiment. "Friends, watch out!" he hollered. "I'm coming in at a good clip. The gujai rapids did a number on Hilgooth and my favourite oar."

A few shouts followed in response. Josef didn't dare look for fear of revealing himself. If the regiment got a hold of him, he'd be hooked into their system, forced to follow their fatal instructions, all with a maximum life expectancy of 164 hours.

Claudius whispered through the mass of fish, "Remember you can imagine your goo-sac if you need to Josef. There's also the fenham."

As the sound of rushing water grew louder and louder, Josef felt his muscles tense. It was one thing to know they approached the enemy, quite another to be unable to see them. At least with the gujai he could see their milky eyes peeping at him. Suddenly Josef felt his body slam against the holdspace's inner wall, squishing up against a whole school of gujai.

And then Hilgooth was still. The entire vessel creaked. The sewer water was roaring, but they weren't moving. Had they stopped just before another set of rapids? Were they at the checkpoint? Josef quickly peeped to make sure he was still hidden, shifting a gujai's fin just a tad to the left to cover his hair.

"Many blessings upon you for stopping Hilgooth." It was John's voice. A series of bristly grunts followed. John was talking to the guards. "Hilgooth and I fell foul of the recent storm water surge and were sucked straight into the heart of the gujai's mating pyramids." A few more grunts followed.

While Josef strained to hear everything he could, Claudius counted down the seconds until he heard the voice of his nemesis. Claudius knew Kipfish wouldn't pass up on the opportunity to capture an escaped goo-drinker. It would be a luxurious feather in his cap, helping him to swiftly climb the Ba'ha Company's hierarchy. At the moment, however, all Claudius could hear were mutterings. He shifted a fin away from his ear to better hear, but the discussion was still too quiet.

The gujai, as if suddenly animated by a spell, began to move and slither around him. Were they becoming agitated? But then Claudius saw them — two oversized hands were swarming through the fish, groping and grabbing among the fins, tails, and pincer teeth. Claudius froze, not daring to move an inch, when he heard Josef's voice shout out.

"Let go of me! Get your hands off of me. I'm just trying to save my brain from exploding."

"My apologies, young Josef," came John's voice. "But Hilgooth has sustained significant damage."

Claudius couldn't believe what he was hearing. John was betraying them. They were taking his goo-drinker. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to not break his cover and start screaming at the sewerman. Claudius was so mad his jaw hurt. He could hear Josef struggling against the grip of the Ba'ha guards.

"I have a family as well," John continued. "600 gold chunks is a princely sum, nearly a lifetime's work, one that I let myself fancy passing up as it would've been nice to save a goo-drinker. Something to tell the kids. But in the end, it would've just been a story. Anyways, your kind doesn't last long in this world."

"We saved Hilgooth!" Josef cried out. "If it wasn't for us she'd be a gujai playground."

Claudius listened for a response from John, but none came.

"And the fishman is in there as well you say?" It was Kipfish's voice. Claudius swore under his breath. They knew he was in the holdspace.

A meaty hand suddenly clamped down on Claudius's shoulder. It squeezed and Claudius knew that unless he acted right this second he was about to be funnelled straight to the depropagation chamber. He cursed John and shook himself free, squirming deeper among the gujai. He had no plan, no idea what to do, but he kept squiggling as he felt more hands dive down next to him, brushing against his rubbery skin.

He could just barely hear the Ba'ha guards laughing as he held his breath. He was trapped. They probably thought they were bobbing for apples. It was only a matter of moments before they hauled him out and marched him back to the main hall for depropagation. Malark would both laugh and cry. Briefly, he contemplated returning to the surface, surprising his assailants, and then darting majestically back down the sewer line, but his odds of — wait, he said to himself, as his webbed hands felt something strange.

The holdspace was taking on water. It was no longer holding — not as well as it should be. In the corner where Claudius found himself, the wood was corroded. Water was seeping in. The gujai's mating toxins must've eaten through and weakened the wood.

Claudius wasted no time as more hands plunged down after him. He twisted and slammed his foot against the corroded wood, hearing a heavy crunch and crack as the wood gave way. He dove his head towards the slight opening and felt the jagged pieces of wood scrape against his skin. He pushed hard, ramming himself through the crack despite feeling like he was crawling through a bed of sea urchins.

At the last moment a hand grappled his shin and began to pull. The hand was so powerful, he was being suctioned back into the holdspace. But his skin was too slippery, especially with the gujai's mucus-coatings and he slipped free.

Now completely underwater, Claudius let the sewer flow take him. He couldn't see anything, he couldn't hear anything; he was a blind newt flicking to freedom. And then he was falling.

Above the water, two hulking, muscle-bound humans gripped Josef by his scrawny arms. They were covered in the red clay dust of the Ba'ha Grotto, while each of their fists was larger than Josef's chest.

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Josef could barely breath. John had betrayed them, sold both him and Claudius like one of his captured fish. One second ago he'd been hiding in the holdspace among the gujai, and the next he was being hoisted into the air.

Josef watched now as three hulking humans dove their hands into the holdspace and among the gujai searching for Claudius. Josef was standing on a sewer ledge, the night sky glistening behind him, the wind cool against his wet skin. He could hear the cries of crows.

"Machos!" a frail, nasally voice cried out. It came from the mouth of a withered man lain out on a stretcher. He wore a robe the colour of dried blood. His skin was taut around his face but loose around his throat. He raised his bony finger up into the air. "Have you found the fishman yet?"

One of the hulking humans paused searching among the gujai to report. "Claudius has not been found yet, Kipfish. I thought I had a hold on one of his limbs, but I couldn't be sure. You know how he is."

Kipfish wheezed. "His insolence must be punished. We should've never given him access to the new arrivals. Keep searching. He must be somewhere there among the gujai."

Kipfish then sucked in a rattled breath, turning his gaze on Josef. He smiled bleakly. "And you, my precious goo-drinker. What a little adventure you've been pressed into. I hope the Sea Gwell hasn't permanently tweaked your neocortex beyond redemption."

Josef struggled against the grips of the two machos restraining him. He stared at the brainsnake named Kipfish. His robe was three sizes too large for his emaciated body. His eyes were similar to a gujai's, milky, bloated, and still. Only a handful of long strands of snow white hair remained on his head.

"I hear your best record is 164 hours," Josef finally said. "Very impressive."

Kipfish motioned with his hand for one of the other brainsnake to bring him something. "It is true. Our best record is 164 hours. But guess what? Before that it was 161 hours and before that 159." Josef watched as the other brainsnake passed Kipfish a sheet of parchment and a quill. Kipfish neatly wrote out John's name his reward of 600 gold chunks. He then continued, "You see, Josef, we're constantly improving. You will be another step in the chain. We will learn from you."

"Isn't there a way to learn more before you sacrifice me? This all seems like a bit of waste." Josef felt a quick stab of regret after speaking the words. It sounded like he was already giving in to his captors. But what choice did he have? Claudius had escaped. He had not.

"Spoken like a true, goo-drinker," said Kipfish, chuckling to himself. "It's one of the many reasons you don't last long in this world. You think we can just walk up to the Rosecloak and ask to speak to his goo-masters? The secrets to raising a goo-drinker are not hawked for sale in the streets. Do you have any idea how long you spent drinking our goo?" Kipfish paused and scratched the corner of his eye, awaiting Josef's response.

"If you're just going to kill me all for some vain experiment, then frankly I don't care how much time I spent drinking your goo." Josef tried to shake himself free from the grips of the two machos but it was useless. They barely noticed him struggling. "You're right. I don't know anything about this world. What I do know was that Claudius was doing his best to keep me away from you and your instructions. It's now become very apparent to me why he did so."

But Kipfish was only half listening. He'd waved over John. "Here, sewerman," said Kipfish, holding out the piece of parchment to him. "The Ba'ha Company always rewards obedience. You've done well for us this evening."

Josef watched John bow and quickly grab the parchment for Kipfish's shaking hands. John didn't say anything, but Josef watched as he glanced in his direction. His gaze was stern, but his eyes told a different story. Josef could barely stand to look at him. He averted his gaze from the sewerman. There was nothing to say. He'd done what he'd done.

Kipfish then spoke again. "We gave Claudius the benefit of the doubt last time. It appears this his accomplice, Malark, lied for him exceedingly well. They told us the last goo-drinker had gone haywire and dashed down the sewers. Guess how many hours that goo-drinker lasted?

Josef chose to remain silent. He could see what Kipfish was angling towards.

"Not a single guess? Well, here's the truth, goo-drinker. It wasn't hours. It was minutes. Seventeen minutes to be precise. Seventeen minutes from goo-sac to sewer slime."

Josef started to laugh.

"What! You think this is funny, goo-drinker? That's valuable goo gone to waste! Do you even know how long it takes to brew a batch of goo?"

"It's just that," Josef said between fits of laughter, "I was on track to beat that record. I'm pretty sure I would've clocked in at around eight minutes. Really, I should be dead already, or perhaps luxuriating in Hokin-Ha."

Kipfish snarled. "I see the fishman has truly damaged you. No matter. We shall learn what we can from you nevertheless." Kipfish then turned back to the three machos still searching the holdspace. "Nothing?"

"There appears to be a hole," replied the same macho from earlier. "It's small, but Claudius was always a nimble one. We think he wrangled himself through it."

Josef watched as Kipfish suddenly cast his gaze on the sewer exit. His eyes were searching, hungry. He gripped his stretcher and pushed himself up on a single shaking hand, observing the small waterfall that inaugurated the Ba'ha Grotto's exit.

"He must've made his way over the ledge," muttered Kipfish. "Perhaps he's among the reeds. Kill him if you see him. He's barely worth depropagating." Kipfish then returned to appraising Josef. "Time to get you to your appointment, goo-drinker." Kipfish then yelled out to his entourage, "Onward to The Crow Meadow!"

The machos abandoned their search of Hilgooth. They were on the move. Josef's could feel his arms starting to bruise from the machos' steely grips. One of their fingers was digging into a gujai bite while Josef's feet were just barely dragging along the sewer ledge.

Immediately they did a button-hook and began to descend a side staircase lit by only a few torches. Josef could hear Kipfish giving more orders, but what truly struck him was the absolute freshness of the air. He could still smell the sewer, but there was now scents of meadow, pine, and flowers, all fragrances that Josef felt like he was inhaling for the first time.

He caught himself smiling as they descended the stone steps. If this was going to be how he went out, he'd do his best to enjoy it. But then, without warning, the sadness came, sadness at what he would be leaving behind after so short a visit. He didn't want to be the test subject for some outpost's experiment. He didn't want to join the ranks of goo-drinkers sacrificed at the hands of the Ba'ha Grotto. And he had to admit, as much as Claudius had annoyed him, in addition to almost seeing him killed, he wished the Sea Gwell was here right now. He would know what to do, or at least he would have a plan.

As they neared the bottom of the stone steps, Josef found himself searching among the reeds for any sign of his friend. The sewers emptied out into a small lily pond. He could hear the croaking of frogs while fireflies buzzed atop the pond's surface.

Josef then heard a heavy plop. He craned his neck around to locate the exact source of the noise, but wilted when he saw it was only Hilgooth and John. They'd exited the sewers and had just landed in the pond water.

But it was there, in the ripples caused by Hilgooth's plunge that Josef saw for the first time the stunning and grandiose image of what he'd only so far heard described. It was the moons. The moons' faces reflected in the pond water, sliced into segments by the flowing ripples. He couldn't believe it. He counted twice just to make sure. Ten. Ten moons.

"Well look at that," Josef whispered, turning his face up to the night sky.

One of the machos heard him and whispered back, "Yeah, it's something else, isn't it?"

But Josef's brain was captured and in complete awe of the utter magnificence beaming in the night sky. "Moonsneeze," he whispered to himself. "Moonsneeze. How much time do I have?"