The Nocturna found Patrik before the fire did. “Looks like you are lost,” Esrau said from the darkness.

  Patrik stopped in his tracks and turned to face his fate. There was blood on Esrau’s sleeve, and he limped.

  “Hush. Don’t even imagine trying anything flashy. This place needs no additional encouragement to burst aflame,” the Nocturna continued.

  “Who are you?” Patrik asked.

  “Lieutenant Esrau Frenk.”

  “Strategej Patrik.” Patrik made a mocking bow. “How may I serve?”

  “Just follow me. The roots have drunk enough blood tonight,” the Nocturna said and walked in the direction Patrik had been proceeding.

  Patrik saw him disappearing in the darkness and decided to follow, for Esrau seemed to have a plan, and maybe he was familiar with the landscape. The mist was thick around them, formed from the raindrops evaporating before they reached the ground. The heat radiating from the trunks was palpable; the inferno was only one spark away.

  “What is holding the explosion?” Patrik asked.

  “Rain cools the trunks. The reaction hasn’t gathered enough energy to break loose, yet.” Esrau quickened his steps. The ground sprouted ancient pieces of malformed metal and molten plastic, but he stepped around them. “Strategej, are you able to recognize ancient structures if you see one?”

  “I’ve seen them around the ruins near the bridge,” Patrik said, remembering his student patrols. He realized they were walking down a slope that was not a natural hill, but the result of an old explosion. They were on a weather-eroded crater’s rim.

  “Look for them. I am searching for a door inside.”

  Patrik nodded at Esrau’s back. He opened his sight, but it was full of mist and rushing water, and his weariness seemed to call memories that did not belong to him. They swam through his field of vision like spectres, images from lives he had not lived. The forest glowed with energy, and when Patrik blinked, Esrau was nowhere to be seen.

  “Here, strategej.” The voice echoed, and when Patrik slipped closer, he noticed the man stood under an arch. On closer look, Patrik understood it was the curving wall of a giant pipe where soil had accumulated to form a floor.

  They walked deeper into the pipe; being out of the rain was a relief, and Patrik realized he was shaking in his wet clothes. Inside the pipe was dark, and the soil was uneven when Patrik followed Esrau. The Nocturna stopped suddenly, and Patrik collided with his back.

  Patrik heard how Esrau felt around. There was a rustle of wet fabric, a rasping sound, a creak, and a hollow knock. The big man pushed, and something heavy moved on its hinges. “It won’t open more,” Esrau whispered and squeezed inside. The opening was wide enough for Patrik to step through without trouble.

  The inside was dark and smelled of wet stone. Esrau started pushing the door shut. Patrik gave him room to work, but collided with something that felt and sounded like a metal shelf. The heavy thump told that Esrau had managed to close the door, and Patrik felt immense relief at having something between him and the fire.

  “There is a switch somewhere. A smooth piece embedded in the wall,” Esrau said.

  Patrik slid his fingers cautiously along the shelves until he found a corner. There, he touched a cold, slippery piece, different from the coarse wall material. It moved, and when Patrik pushed, a faint light appeared at the bottom of the wall. It spread like the winter dawn on the sky. The light was weak and pale, spreading sluggishly along the corridor, skipping some parts and leaving them in the shadow.

  In the darkness, even a faint light helped to see. It revealed a corridor lined with shelves and cupboards. An arhythmical rasping sound started, getting louder as the light grew. Patrik felt his neck hair standing up when he understood that this meant some ancient machinery was starting up nearby. Esrau walked deeper into the corridor and removed his drenched coat. “We’ll sleep here.”

  Patrik looked around. The previous visitors had left only a few items, but they all were made by and for the Nocturna. No heat source was visible, but the shelves held dry clothing. Soon, the two men were sitting on opposite sides of the corridor. Patrik was wearing a too-large shirt, and both were eating cookies Esrau had taken from his backpack, with fish paste to go with them.

  Esrau’s metal crossbow leaned on the wall beside him. He had removed the trigger mechanism and stored it in his pocket. In addition to the crossbow and the sword, he was also carrying a rifle. Patrik didn’t have to ask why the Nocturna hadn’t used fire weapons in the forest.

  “What is this place?” Patrik asked without expecting any reply. His voice sounded old and bare when it echoed from the walls.

  “Before the war, this used to be a maintenance tunnel. It goes deeper, but the other end has collapsed and flooded.”

  Patrik touched the wall. It was not natural but was made of some artificial material in the past. It felt weird to sit among the remains of a destroyed civilization. The people who had built the tunnel were the same people who had tried to kill the dragons. He was sitting among the soulless, war-wrecked technology, hoping it would shield him from the fiery, exploding inferno outside.

  Patrik felt his heart grow heavy; he was among the enemies, in their old base. Esrau was an heir and a descendant of the dragon killers. His ancestors had fought Agiisha and her brethren, hunting them across the stars. Agiisha had kept herself hidden since returning to Watergate, but the Nocturna remembered the past wars.

  A war with the dragons had destroyed Watergate. It had shut down the artificial intelligences, dropped the orbital cities to their gravitational doom, and engulfed the surface in ash and the excreta from the uncontrolled industrial organisms. The current Ainadu had arrived two hundred years after the catastrophe, but the fanatical Nocturna overlooked reason and logic.

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  Patrik knew his people were not witches or monsters. Only Agiisha had seen Watergate’s end, and she had paid the terrible price for the war. The Ainadu on Watergate were the survivors of an unrelated rebellion, dragged to this planet by the whim of their dragon.

  Patrik observed Esrau in the faint light. His people had been genetically engineered soldiers, and Esrau was tall and strong. Hardly any white was visible in his eyes as they reflected the weak light like the eyes of an animal. The walk through the forest had made it obvious that the Nocturna needed only a little light to see, and it was rumoured that their eyes and ears spotted stimuli outside the range of the ordinary human senses.

  Except for his eyes and being head taller than Patrik, Esrau looked like a human. The physiological differences would become obvious when he fought, and when it was about survival. The Nocturna were very difficult to kill. They coped with remarkable ease with the extreme weather, illnesses, and injuries. Patrik could not estimate Esrau’s age: Nocturna had long lifespans, but their numbers were few. The Nocturna were a creation of the past science, and without technological support, their existence was slowly fading from Watergate’s surface.

  A distant explosion echoed in the tunnel, making Patrik draw a measure breath. Esrau seemed to ignore the sounds. He observed Patrik, knowing that the Ainadu were part of the human race, and they bred with the southern people with ease. The difference lived in their blood, and this mark of the slave was what made Esrau ask a question.

  “Strategej, the dragons swim in your blood. Don’t you pray for them? Don’t they watch over you, listening to everything you hear?”

  Patrik let the sound of the next explosion die before he answered. “Does the water in the river stop to observe the riverbed? It might, but no one would notice.”

  Esrau smiled, showing an even row of white teeth. “So theoretically speaking, have you ever wished to be free from those artificial parasites?”

  “Theoretically speaking, I would be dead the moment you removed them from my blood, for you would have to drain it all from my veins. How about you, Nocturna? You carry the microbial machines in your body. Have you ever dreamed of being free of that ancient curse?” Patrik changed the viewpoint. Discussing Ainadu’s bloodline cut too close to the mission in Haven.

  “They say that such removal was possible with the lost technology, but I fail to see the point in taking them away. Don’t worry, the artificial intelligences controlling the nanos are long gone. The artificials don’t watch over me, they don’t bless or curse my work, as Huran believed, may Old Leipzig bless his bones.”

  Patrik gave the man a severe stare. The artificial intelligences did not die. They lived in many bodies and possessed many forms, and maybe that had been why the dragons had been hated so heatedly. There was another explosion, closer this time, and two more followed rapidly.

  “How did it feel? When the machines started to crawl inside you?” Patrik said to speak about anything but the fiery death approaching them.

  “I don’t remember the ritual. The first time I felt anything like that was when they closed a vein before I bled to death. I was fourteen and had lost a training match.”

  The straightforward answer surprised Patrik. “You had quite a childhood.”

  “Training is part of the uprising, and I used to be a difficult pupil and made many mistakes.”

  “Was shooting that bird also a mistake? It made Huran notice your presence.”

  “It had to be done. I needed information about the process that was running amok in the forest.”

  “And a dead bird had that information?”

  “In a way, yes. The birds are signals.”

  Patrik just shook his head, but Esrau didn’t explain further. There were more explosions, and Patrik rested his chin on his knees. The door shook, and hot air flowed in from somewhere, but the hinges held.

  ***

  Patrik woke up. He lay on the floor, covered by a ragged coat. Esrau stood by the open door, studying the scenery. Acrid air flew in, but the sky was clear. Patrik was cold, and his throat felt sore as he walked to the door. He looked at the scorched landscape where blackened remains of trees were standing in ash-covered mud, realizing that spending the night outside would have marked his death.

  “Are there other places like this?” The strategej thought about the people they had left behind.

  “A few, but they are not easy to find. Those who were outside are dead. Peace of the trees upon their souls.” Esrau said, like reading Patrik’s thoughts. Patrik opened his mouth to answer, but sneezed as the ash tickled his nose.

  “Don't breathe it. The ash may be poisonous.” Esrau said.

  “Everything here is,” Patrik said.

  “I wouldn’t say so. This world is still searching for the balance it lost at the end of the world. Every incident like this shakes that frail harmony.”

  Patrik estimated his chance of escaping from Esrau; the man had done nothing to prevent him from leaving. “Is it safe?”

  “The fire may stay alive under the ash for a long time, but the generated pressure has been released. It will not explode. The mud makes walking hard, and the dust is full of harmful substances. However, the rain washed most of it down to the soil, and your hood should filter the rest.”

  “Then I will go.”

  “You are alone and far from your northern home, Ainadu.”

  “I’ll find my way.”

  “Why don’t you come with me? I’d like to discuss what happened. Call it scientific curiosity.”

  “Your science is good only for wildfires and other calamities. Would you accept the dragons in your blood? It would help you see.” The mockery in Patrik’s words drowned in the silence of the landscape.

  “As much as you would take my nanos in your veins.”

  ”Then you cannot understand.”

  ”You do not change the laws of existence or the structure of the world, Ainadu. The means and the outcome can be understood. That is what science is about.”

  “We are not of the same blood, and without blood, you will never understand how I see the world. I wish you the best of luck with this forest.” Patrik was silent for a while and asked with a softer tone: “Will it grow back?”

  “It will,” the Nocturna answered with certainty. “If not this one, then another organism will take its place.”

  The strategej shrugged and prepared to leave.

  “There is a tap below the self. The water tastes horrible, but it is drinkable.” Esrau said without looking at Patrik. He was not lying, and Patrik filled a bottle and fixed his hood. He could already taste the ash in his mouth.

  The strategej stopped by the door beside the Nocturna. “Thanks.”

  “Thanks to you. Without this, Huran’s loyalties would have remained uncovered.”

  “This destruction was not my objective.”

  “You didn’t know the consequences of your actions. No one considers the effects their agenda has on the planetary level. Walk under the peace of the forest, strategej. Try to do something good with your given time.”

  “May the wings pass you without seeing you, if that is what you wish, lieutenant,” Patrik wished, modifying an old blessing. He stepped out and started walking toward the south and Haven, his heart heavy from the presence of death and the growing suspicion. His steps draw a lone path in the fresh ash.