All the knowledge you seek is enshrined in the Manuals.

Anything else is blasphemy.

The Manuals of the Bunker, Vol. 2, Verse 17

The defunct swamp was a downhill run from the village, yet my breath rattled when I finally reached its edge. I stopped and peered into the pit my father and the craner had dug. Its depth made me dizzy, and I stood back. Steep walls led to a pool of stagnant water at the bottom. The basin ended at the back wall of the cavern. There, several man-high openings were partially submerged in the water. Metal grids covered them—the spaces between their fat bars blacker than the blackest latrine. The smell of rotten eggs wafted over me.

I tore my eyes away from the hole in the ground and looked up. The grapple hung meters above the pit, unreachable and still.

Was the craner taking a nap up there?

I gazed back in the direction of the village. Three figures were walking down the path to the swamps—towards me.

I waved my arms at the grapple, trying to discern the cabin hiding in the shadows above the lamps. "Hey, craner!"

This was the highest part of the cavern—he might not even hear me. I shouted again, louder this time. "Craner, hey!"

The people on the path broke into a run.

I seized a pebble from the ground and threw it at the grapple. It missed. "Craner!"

I grabbed another stone, a larger one, and aimed again. Before I could throw it, though, the humming noise of an engine set in, and the grapple swayed. It crept downwards and towards me.

My three pursuers were close enough to recognize them: two guards, one wearing the captain's blue ribbon around his chest. The man's copper hair shone in the light of the lamps. There were few people with hair of that color and no other with the blue ribbon—Wolfe. The third man was gangly, black, and bald. Frankie.

I positioned myself to intersect the grapple's path. Its three fingers were folded in on each other, ready to receive me.

"Stop!" Still a stone's throw away, Wolfe pulled a black object from his belt as he was still advancing in quick steps.

I recognized what he held in his hands—it was a gun. A machine built by the engineers. It made a noise like two mighty rocks clashing against each other. I had seen it being used once, in the upper cavern. A man had questioned the holy words of the Manuals. And there was only one punishment for blasphemy.

Shaking my head, I forced my eyes away from the weapon.

The pit was too steep to climb into, and the grapple still hung above it, meters out. It wouldn't be here in time.

I had to get closer.

Cursing my fear of heights, I turned away from Wolfe, and I ran. When I reached the edge of the pit, I jumped, clenching my jaw.

The grapple was closer than I had expected, and I crashed into it, banged my head, and slipped. But I held on tight, embracing one of the metal fingers with my arms.

Chains rattled, and I was hoisted upwards. My feet still lacked purchase.

Unable to move, I hung there, my back exposed to any bullet the captain might shoot at me.

None came.

My arms hurt and were about to lose their hold when the grapple's motion stopped with the ladder leading to the cabin next to me. Swinging my legs, I set my foot on the bottommost rung. Once it had my weight, I moved over and climbed.

"Are you out of your mind?" the craner bellowed when I entered his cabin. "Jumping the grapple like that! You could have broken your bloody neck."

I ignored him and looked down at the path to the village. The men had stopped, and Frankie pointed at us, talking to Wolfe.

"We need to get away," I said. "Quick! They're chasing me."

His gaze followed mine. "What's happening? Who's chasing you?"

"They've arrested my father, and now they're trying to arrest me, too." I pointed at the men below.

"Arrest?" He peered out of the window, then he operated the controls before him, and the engines grated to life. The cabin ground along the track above us. "So your father was right. He was afraid that this might happen."

We moved away from the pit, out over the other swamps.

"I've pulled up the grapple," the craner said. "If we're lucky, they won't see us. They may still hear us, though."

Wolfe and the others were gazing up, shielding their eyes against the light.

"This is bad." The craner shook his head. "I didn't believe the bishop would be that stupid. Yet here you are."

We stopped at an intersection of tracks and changed direction towards the upper end of the cavern. Below, the men followed our move.

"They can hear us. And captain Wolfe is armed." I wondered if the thin metal walls of the cabin would be strong enough to shield us from the bullets.

"Let's hope they can't see us, then."

This flight was hopeless—the tracks of the crane didn't go beyond this cavern. There was no place for us to run. "We can't hide up here forever," I said. "Sooner or later, they'll find us."

"Relax, boy. Didn't your father tell you about the tunnels?"

I nodded. Of course, I had heard rumors of them—passages dug into the rock around the caverns. The Manuals made it clear that they were the realm of the Engineers and of the machines—a place forbidden to man.

"Yes, the tunnels," the craner said. "I know a hatch where you can enter them. I'll take you to it. From there, you can escape. They won't follow you."

My stomach cramped. "But that place is off-limits. The Manuals tell us so."

"The Manuals are the church's writings, not the Engineers'. Don't believe them." With a grunt, he flipped a large lever forward, and we picked up speed. The grinding noise above us turned into a tormented scream.

The whole cavern would hear us now.

We were crossing the gardens below faster than anyone could run. The chutes came closer—the dark rock behind them impenetrable and forbidding.

Entering the tunnels?

Trespassing—the priest back in the school had called it. It counted among the worst types of sacrilege. The Manuals forbade to leave the caverns. And the Manuals were the law.

"I..." My voice almost drowned in the noise, and I had to raise it. "I think it's better if I surrender." Jail and a just trial would be much safer than these tunnels.

Breaking the law wasn't right, and who knew what might be lurking in there. Plus, my father needed me. He had no one else to stand by his side.

"I can't leave," I said.

"You can't surrender. They'll kill you." His dark-eyed stare held me. He looked serious.

"But that's just a bloody, clogged swamp." I gestured at the pit, which was now far behind us. "It's not as if my dad and I have murdered someone."

"This isn't about the pit. It's politics. The Engineers' machines can't fail, they say, because that's what the Church has ordained. When something doesn't work anymore, they need a culprit to blame, and this time it's your father. They'll say it's all his fault. Killing him... and his family... as the culprits will make their words all the more convincing. People believe in executions."

"But that's..." I searched for a reply as I gripped the frame of the window before me. This could not be real. The metal vibrated with the noise from above, but it was unyielding, denying my attempts to bend reality back into shape.

"You have to leave the caverns. There's nothing else you can do."

"But my dad—"

The craner pushed the lever back. With a jerk, the cabin came to a stop, and the scream of tormented metal yielded to sudden silence. My ears still rang.

The wall outside the window was within reach. It wasn't rock up here, but a recessed section of concrete. It formed a ledge like a narrow pathway. A few steps away, it ended at the closest chute. And right before us, a small metal door sat in the wall. Its dark gray color blended it with the concrete, rendering it hard to see in the shade above the lamps.

The craner nudged my arm. "That's it. That's where you get out."

The door was closed, forbidding, and forbidden.

"Take this." The craner held out his hand, a black object resting in its palm.

His bird amulet.

He asked me to abandon my father and to commit sacrilege by entering that door, and now he wanted me to have the unholy token of that bird.

"Please. Take it." His voice shook as he pushed his hand closer. "It was my granddad's, he found it on a dead man. He thought it was an Engineer, and this bird must be something special. I want you to have it. To remember me by."

I pulled back and stared at the thing. "A dead Engineer? That's impossible."

Engineers didn't just die.

Tiny, red veins crisscrossed the whites of the Craner's eyes as he looked at me and shrugged. "He never explained what made him think it had been one of them."

I had thought the craner to be one of the strongest men in our cavern even if he couldn't walk. He always knew an answer. To any question. But now, with his lips apart and trembling, he seemed vulnerable and helpless.

"Please, take it." He proffered the amulet again.

Reluctant, I took the object. Its surface was smooth and warm. The fiery red bird had its eye on me.

"Now go." The craner motioned towards the window.

"What will I find there?" I whispered, wondering if someone or something might be listening to me from the other side of it.

"I don't know, boy. My granddad just told me it goes to the tunnels. I've never been there." He gestured at his legs. "Now hurry." His hand clasped mine, fingers closing over the amulet. "Take care. And don't look back."

The cabin's window was large enough for me to climb through. Once I stood on the ledge of concrete, the craner pushed a lever. The cabin rattled and moved out of reach.

Below, the two guards and Frankie had reached the end of the path. Panting, they stood at the bottom of the chutes and gestured at the ceiling above them, in our direction.

The craner nodded at me and smiled from the rusty, orange metal box that was his home.

That was when I realized that he had no way out of here. I opened my mouth to shout at him, to order him to come back, and to undo all of this.

But it was too late for that.