**** Elysium 1986 ****

The TRAP agents stood side by side in the archway in silence for several minutes, taking in the almost surreal scene. It was Abigail who broke the silence first.
“Could someone pinch me? Surely none of this is real? Am I just dreaming?” she asked softly.
“Do you really want me to pinch?” replied Yuri, tugging at the gloves of his protective suit.
“On second thought, no thanks,” Abigail croaked.
Another set of stairs led down from where they were standing. They were on some sort of platform, from which they had a good view. The dimensions of the cavern that stretched before them were so gigantic, however, that they could not make out its end. It was filled with houses of all sizes and designs, there must have been thousands of them. An entire city, connected by countless paved paths and alleys, with lanterns placed at relatively regular intervals. The milky and pulsating light of these lanterns emanated from pumpkin-sized spheres, but many of them were already destroyed. They seemed to be made of some kind of jelly that lost almost all of its luminosity when its outer skin was damaged. Many of the houses, built in a completely alien architecture, were also badly damaged. This must have been done by force and not by natural decay. The style of the buildings, which were probably made mostly of clay and rock, looked ancient from up here, almost a little primitive. However, they were also – as far as one could see with the help of the remaining light sources – artistically decorated with patterns and sculptures. There were no doors or windows, each house was freely accessible. They could also make out larger plazas that had obviously been used for trade, as evidenced by the remains of market stalls. There were also artificial fields where large mushrooms and other fern-like plants still grew, with small round ponds in between. But nothing moved in this city that had obviously been home to tens of thousands. It lay extinct before them, dead. A quiet graveyard, silent witness to an unknown culture. And yet it seemed as if it had been inhabited not so long ago. Too neat and clean were the areas that had escaped destruction.
“Look down there,” said Harry, who had now taken a few steps forward. He pointed down the stairs. The other two joined him and saw what had been hidden from them from further back. The area around the stairs was a battlefield. Countless crawlers lay around in various stages of decomposition, as well as many dead guards, easily identifiable by their protective suits. Hardly any of them had died in one piece, however; their bodies had been torn apart and scattered. To the left and right of each staircase lay a mountain of barrels of radioactive waste. Most of the containers were broken, and the contents of many of them were still dripping to the ground. Apparently, once they had reached a certain quantity, they had not bothered to bring them down and pile them up. At some point, they just rolled off the platform here. The poisonous liquid must have splashed far and wide from the bursting barrels, contaminating this entrance area for kilometers. As Yuri pointed the beam of his flashlight down and slowly swept it over the decomposing bodies, Abigail closed her eyes for a moment.
“We’ve reached hell, haven’t we?” she whispered. Harry took a deep breath. The sight was no doubt hard to bear.
“Yes,” he finally replied curtly. He wasn’t religious, but if you’d asked him about his ideas of an otherworldly place of horror and destruction, he probably would have described something like this.
“Maybe we had to reach hell to finish job…” muttered Yuri and started walking slowly down the stairs. “Now I know what those guys meant by old deposit. Must have dumped barrels here first. But then losses too big because too many crawlers.” Abigail and Harry followed him down the stairs as well. Harry did not look at the radiation meter again. He just didn’t want to know anymore. Maybe it was better that he didn’t know how contaminated the environment was at this point.
“This has been going on for a while, judging by those mountains of barrels,” Abigail guessed. “Probably a cost thing. They brought all the waste here in the first place to save the money of digging their own storage areas. Then, when there were too many dead, they had to create new areas. Right in the metro area, the barrels would probably have been noticed at some point, but I don’t doubt for a second that the consideration was in the air, too, looking at this shit here.”
“In any case, they must have been the first to discover this city,” Harry agreed. “A find like this would have undoubtedly spread to all of 86 and put every newspaper and TV station from here to Utopia on notice.”
“Yeah, it’s completely crazy,” Abigail nodded. “All of this surely existed before the colonization period. I don’t think you can build a city under a city without anyone noticing? Can you?”
“If so, and they had built subways thirty meters lower back then, they would have quickly found city here,” Yuri muttered. Abigail stopped just before they reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Guys…” she said in a slightly shaky voice. “Let’s say this city here is older than Elysium… that would mean…”
“…That we weren’t the first on 86?” Harry finished her sentence. “Well, I don’t know too much about history, but isn’t that very unlikely? Surely there were all sorts of scanners on the colonists’ ships, scanning every planet before they approached? And nothing should have come up?”
“How far underground do scanners go?” interjected Yuri. Harry thought, then nodded.
“Point taken,” he replied. “But why settle underground? Would you want to live on nothing but mushrooms and moss all the time?” Yuri and Abigail took up their weapons again, keeping a close eye on their surroundings. Together they crossed the square with the countless bodies, making their way without stepping on them, and headed for the first houses.
“Good question,” Yuri spoke. “Maybe like bunkers in my home? Maybe wanted to be safe down here?”
“Definitely didn’t work out…” Abigail muttered dejectedly. Up close, they could clearly see that most of the houses here were covered in bullet holes and blood splatter. Most of the furniture, also made of clay, was smashed. However, they also found items that were clearly from the upper world. Vases, cutlery, yellowed books, magazines, and many other things that had been dismantled and put to other uses. Plastic buckets, for example, that had been artistically painted and used as large flower pots for various herbs. Machined metal struts from the sewer system that had been built into fireplaces. A completely hollowed out television set that had been used to store potatoes, and many other things. Always, however, the objects had been altered and decorated with great craftsmanship. Almost as if not only to reduce them to a mere function, but also to take possession of them culturally.
“Guys weren’t just there to dump waste, also looted,” Yuri explained as he stepped out of one of the ruins back to the others. “Remember, also talked about gold coins and other things of value they found here. Said they haven’t gone through all the houses yet, but too dangerous to come here again.”
“Too dangerous…” Harry repeated and walked over to the next house. He had spotted something bright in the rubble and wanted to take a closer look. He crouched down and reached for it, pulling it out from under a pile of dusty bricks. It was a pretty blonde doll with two braided pigtails and a blue dress. It was relatively undamaged, just a little dirty. “Too dangerous…” he said again, thinking as he shook the doll a bit to get rid of the dust and adjusted the little dress. On the right side of her face, three characters were painted with fine brush strokes. They were characters that looked very similar to the ones on the crawler tattoos.
“Did you find anything?” asked Abigail, coming closer. Harry handed her the doll wordlessly, tapping the writing on its face. She took it, looked at it closely, and immediately understood what had piqued his interest.
“What does all this mean…?” Harry asked thoughtfully.
“In a way, it all seems to be connected,” Abigail replied, deciding on impulse to take the doll with her. She tucked it into one of the suit’s leg pockets, the head sticking out.
“Turn around or keep going?” asked Yuri, who had rejoined them. The three looked at each other for a moment, deliberating. They were pretty much at the end of their tether, and of course they would have preferred to turn back immediately. The way to the surface was long and no doubt dangerous. When they got back to Anton, they would at least be able to quench their thirst with some of the supplies they had left behind. There were also a few cans of dog food for the worst case. Still, Abigail slowly shook her head.
“Let’s look around for a few more minutes,” she finally said. “Maybe we’ll find something else that can help. I don’t know…” At that moment she was interrupted by a noise. Yuri spun around in a flash, shining his flashlight in front of him. There had been movement between two houses a few meters away. Harry drew his sword immediately.
“Crawlers?” he asked.
“Mmh…” Yuri growled. “No, I don’t think so,” he replied and started walking in that direction. The others followed him. The giant kept up a decent pace despite his exhaustion, running between the houses, his flashlight pressed to his submachine gun.
“Don’t think so” Abigail gasped, trotting after him, panting heavily. If he was wrong now, it could be the end for them. The wavering cone of light from Yuri’s lamp caught a glimpse of a figure in a yellow suit and helmet bell, far too large for the small stature. It couldn’t be, was that a child in front of him? The figure jumped to the right into the next unlit alley and disappeared from his view. Yuri ran faster, breathing heavily. The filters in his suit were still letting in far too little fresh air. The exertion, combined with the lack of oxygen, made him feel slightly nauseous. He rounded the corner and saw the figure again some distance ahead, Abigail and Harry running close behind. Wait, there was something else, further ahead! Yuri jerked his right hand with the flashlight up and shone it over the fleeing figure. There was someone else! A second person in a similar suit with a much too large helmet. They were carrying a long object.
“Freeze!” he shouted as he continued to run. First in American, then in Russian, hoping for an answer. The upper body of the figure behind him seemed to turn around for a second. Obviously they wanted to check how close their pursuers were. That tiny moment of inattention turned the tide. At full speed, the figure stumbled over the fragment of a chair that had apparently been thrown through the window of one of the houses. The figure fell and rolled over twice, trying to pick itself up immediately, but landing on its stomach again. The second person in front slowed down, turned around, and ran back to help. Moments later, the TRAP agents reached the fallen figure. The two were only about 5 feet tall, slender, petite. The one who had returned pulled the fallen person up and back to their feet with a strong tug. Yuri’s cone of light caught the two, but he had to dodge an incoming spearhead. The elongated object one of them was carrying was a weapon.
“Don’t shoot,” Harry yelled, leaping in front of Yuri and parrying the next stabbing attack with his sword blade. He clenched his teeth as the pain from his broken rib shot through his body like lightning. The giant jumped back a large step, partly to give Harry more room and partly to stand protectively in front of Abigail. The figure turned nimbly and launched another attack at Harry, who again blocked the spear with a skillful parry. As the spearhead struck the blade with full force, it made a bright, almost singing sound. Yuri aimed the beam of the lamp directly at the armed figure’s head, blinding it. The figure tried to turn away quickly. Seeing his chance, Harry leapt forward, grabbed the spear and pulled with all his might. His opponent, thrown off balance, stumbled toward him. Harry spun the sword in his right hand and drove the end of the hilt directly into his chest with a short blow. His opponent let go of the spear, gasped loudly, and backed away. The spear fell to the ground and Harry drew his sword blade up in a thousand practiced motions for the strike, ready to deliver the next final blow if necessary. The other figure further back began to scream. She shouted in a bright voice in a language the agents had never heard before. Yuri shone a light on them. For the first time they held still, for the first time one of their faces could be seen. It was a woman who had fallen earlier. She had long white hair, smooth and beautiful, almost childlike features. Her eyes, large in proportion to her delicate features, reflected the light of the lamp in an orange hue, making her look innocent, even vulnerable. The other figure was a bald man with some of the now familiar symbols tattooed on his face. Like the woman, his age could not be estimated. Despite his shorter height and youthful features, they still seemed adult. His eyes were sky blue, his skin as milky white as his companion’s. She called to him again. It seemed as if she wanted to convince him to stop fighting. The man grabbed his leg, pulled a dagger from a pocket and pointed it at Harry, who still had his sword raised.
“Harry!” Abigail called anxiously from behind him. “Don’t take any chances!” The adversaries stood facing each other for a few more moments, looking into each other’s eyes. Harry took a deep breath to calm himself, his sweaty hair clinging to his forehead. He had made a decision. He hoped it would prove to be the right one. Even if they didn’t speak the same language, these two people were their only hope of understanding all of this. Slowly, without taking his eyes off his opponent, he lowered his sword and let it fall demonstratively to the ground, where it hit the cobblestones with a bright clang.
“Please…” whispered Abigail, shaking slightly with excitement. Yuri, on the other hand, smiled slightly and lowered the submachine gun.
“Hope Harry knows what he’s doing,” he whispered back. The man looked at Harry with a slight confusion in his eyes. His opponent willingly gave up his advantage with the bigger weapon, could have easily killed him with this opportunity.
“Kennak!” the woman called to the man, now limping cautiously in his direction. It was clear that she could no longer escape. Apparently she had been slightly injured in the fall, her steps unsteady and wobbly. Still holding the knife, he stood in front of Harry, stunned.
“We are not here to fight. We are not here to loot or kill,” Harry began to speak, holding out his empty palms to them. He spoke slowly, as clearly and calmly as he could. They might not understand his words, but perhaps they understood the intent behind them? “We are looking for the origin of the crawlers, the monsters that threaten us humans,” he continued. The woman tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes a little. She listened to him, trying to understand. The man dropped the dagger in his hand to the ground, abandoning his attacking stance as Harry had done.
“The monsters…” he began to speak. His words were unrehearsed and it took him a noticeable amount of effort to form these sounds that were so unfamiliar to him. “The monsters, as you call them, are our people!” He spat this sentence at Harry with the deepest contempt.

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