“Your turn,” ordered Quirinus.

Cerridwen glanced at his stern face first, then at the narrow entrance to the pitch-black hole. She sat on the edge and grasped a cold rung with her stiff hand. She yanked it to be sure it would hold her weight.

“Move,” barked the Celestian, looking around nervously.

Cerridwen slithered down and hung on to the ladder. Her palms which were covered with dark brown smudges became slippery like eels. She gripped the rung with all her strength, getting the sensation that the rusted metal would crumble any moment, and she would fall straight into the jaws of darkness.

The sewer was cut off from the urban mains for hundreds of years, but rainwater still accumulated there, washed down through the garbage on the streets. The Celestian girl dipped her leg in the water that reached her ankles. The smell of the rotting plants and the dead, floating rodents triggered her nausea. Bile flooded her mouth, but she gulped hard to force it down. She noticed something wrapped around her shoe. She sprang, nearly hitting the dome with her head, and shook the mix of grey fur, guts and bones off her foot.

She joined the rest of the team. Behind her echoed the heavy splash and shuffling steps of Quirinus. She kept a watch on him from the corner of her eyes the whole time. Like his Commander, he too was unpredictable and capable of anything. The situation was equally hopeless for all of them, so Cerridwen began to worry about the guards, armed to the teeth, waiting above, instead of her collaborators. She comforted herself with the thought that in case of danger, somebody would divert the enemies’ attention away from her.

Following Nadee, they reached the fork in the sewers. One tunnel ran straight ahead, and the other, narrower one, veered to the right. She checked the trail on her LiqWatch and turned right where the water did not stream anymore. Every movement or breath in that place scuffed up puffs of dust, and the dried remains of plants and rubbish covered the floor with a thick layer.

Nadee pulled a head-scarf on her face to protect herself from the dust. The Celestians did the same, only Cerridwen was not prepared for conditions like that. She zipped her sweatshirt up to her chin and covered her mouth with the edge of it to at least not smell the mustiness of the underground.

They stopped at the end of the tunnel. The only way out seemed to head several metres up. Nadee turned off her headlamp and climbed up the ladder to the ceiling. She lifted her ears for a few seconds to listen. She could not hear anything other than Cerridwen’s loud panting.

Making no sound, she left the cover ajar and climbed out. “Clear,” she said in a soft voice and switched on her headlamp again to observe the area.

The Celestians joined her and looked around the place that once was a staff room. Next to the entrance, chests were piled up high, marked with green stickers. Along the wall hung crumbled sinks, and on the floor lay shards of ceramic, glass and plaster.

“Did they set up a base here?” whispered Quirinus, reading the inscriptions on the stickers. In the light of his headlamp, thick specks of dust floated up.

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“Our target must be somewhere near,” said Antares.

“Now we…” began Nadee, but he gestured her to remain silent.

The sound of approaching footsteps could be heard. Antares pointed to the stacked boxes and hid between them. Quirinus and Nadee ran behind the container on the opposite side of the room. From the corner of his eyes, Antares noticed Cerridwen following him, but he had no time to explain how to behave in situations like that. The footsteps became louder and finally died down. On the floor appeared two long shadows.

Cerridwen fought with herself not to run away in panic. Every second seemed like an infinity to her, where the most gruesome parts of her imagination could come true. She closed her eyes, trying to hold her breath for as long as she could with the hope that the enemies would not notice her. She stood still, fading into the background of the wall with her back to it, and waited for the enemies to enter with shoots and strikes.

The broken door opened with a piercing screech. Two masked armed men in grey-and-white Union uniforms entered the room. They marched on, aiming their rifles ahead. The walls flashed with the two red dots of their laser.

Antares reached for his gun, then refrained. By shooting, he would attract the attention of the other Unions patrolling this wing of the facility. Instead of setting up a gunfight which was already doomed to fail, he decided to use the silent combat technique that he’d learnt when he worked in the underground organisation fighting to free Zetherion. He took an orange bandanna off his neck and approached the closest enemy.

The guard walked ahead, not even hearing Antares sneak behind him. Something flashed before the Union’s eyes. A rough material wrapped around his neck. The soldier moved his fingers to pull the trigger but dropped the weapon. He swung his hands behind, trying to reach the invisible assailant. He grabbed the material around his neck to break free, but his attempts had no effect on the grip stronger than his. The soldier lost his balance when someone kicked him under his knee. A sound of rapid breaths and growls reached his ears. With a heart racing for survival, he fought for every breath but knew he was slowly losing his battle against the stronger enemy. The view in front of him had become dark and blurry. After a choked cough, he hit the ground with a claret-red mark around his neck.

Antares dropped the motionless enemy and prodded his head with his boot. The Union did not give any sign of life. Antares spit on him with a grimace of revulsion.

In the same way, Quirinus defeated the second opponent and together with Nadee, he waited for the next command. Antares came closer to the door, leaned out from behind the corner and drew back. He shook his head, raising four fingers.

He exchanged a knowing glance with Nadee, and she pointed to a set of bars under the ceiling. She climbed on the sink and reached the hatch. She took down the grating and slipped into the ventilation duct like a tree snake.

Cerridwen still held her hand pressed to her mouth. She did not blink, despite the searing in her eyes. She was unable to release even a silent sigh out of her parched throat. She saw a real death and heard every sound of it for the first time in her life. The splutter and last gasp of the Union froze her blood as well as the empty, devoid of emotions Antares’ gaze. He choked the stranger with ease as if he’d squashed an insect. The precision of his moves was evidence that he’d killed this way so many times before.

Quirinus woke her up from her stupor, nudging her arm. “Go!” he hissed through his clenched teeth.

Cerridwen leapt ahead. Fear of being alone won over the aversion that she felt for both the Celestians. She climbed up to the hatch. Covering herself with her sleeve that had become grey with dust and holding back her need to cough with all her might, she squeezed through a narrow duct. Although she never had any phobias, this setting ignited a deep-rooted dread in her mind. She tried to move noiselessly, but her stiff muscles made it impossible. She shuffled slowly on the ground as if she were walking in a pit of gravel.