Plant with care, and you will be rewarded with the harvest you deserve.

The Manuals of the Bunker, Vol. 2, Verse 12

Dinner was a cold broth with strange, pale chunks floating beneath its dark surface. Remembering Amy's remark about flatworms, I skipped it.

Now, I lay huddled in the sour smell of a filthy blanket on the cold concrete floor. Sleep hadn't come as my thoughts had tried to cope with the past events. It was all so bizarre.

They had arrested my dad, and probably the craner, too. I had no idea what was going to happen to them.

The only thing I knew was that I had to get the pump fixed. It might be a way to save my father. And the only one who might be able to help me with that was Ed.

Even though I didn't want to drag Ed into this. I took a deep breath, trying to push these thoughts from my mind.

The constant hum of the pumps was punctuated by George's snoring and Sam's wheezing.

Amy lay curled up around a threadbare stuffed animal with a round head, round belly, and fluffy ears. I had never seen such a creature—I wondered if there had been animals like that living on the surface before the strife destroyed it.

She murmured in her sleep.

What would the bishop do with these people if I told him about them?

Boss still sat on his overlarge chair, eyes wide open. Was he holding vigil to keep me from running?

Running wasn't in my plans. I wouldn't be able to find my way out of here. And they'd soon take me to my cavern anyway.

Even then, once they took me to our cavern, running would make no sense. What was the use of running if you had nowhere to run to? And my plan required me to return, with Ed.

I closed my eyes in yet another attempt to sleep.

~~~~

Moments or hours later, Boss broke the silence. "It's time."

Sam got up in a quick move. George cursed and asked for breakfast.

"We just had dinner," Boss said. "And has turned dark in the caverns now, so there's no time to waste."

"Okay, let's go." Sam picked up one of the lamps and gestured waved it towards the ladder.

Before I could follow him, a clammy hand grasped my ankle. It was Amy's. She looked up at me, bleary-eyed. "Hey, don't ye run. If ye do, I'll come to haunt ye like a Gath."

"I'll be back," I said, wondering what a Gath was.

"Good! If not, I'll smack ye for good." She curled around her stuffed animal and closed her eyes.

A few minutes later, Sam, George, and I were climbing the ladder from the pump hall. I looked down once to get a last glimpse of Amy. She was fast asleep again.

Or pretended to be.

From the gardens, Sam led the way along a dark tunnel, our only light coming from two of the candles in glass boxes. Water dripped from the ceiling, and rivulets ran along the walls, feeding the small stream at the bottom of the tunnel.

"It's a bloody wet mess in here," George said.

Sam didn't reply.

The tunnel ended at the bottom of a staircase.

"That's the shortest way to the shit cavern," Sam said as he started ascending the steps.

"We usually don't go there," George added. "It's not worth it."

Biting back a remark about a filthy lair with stinky blankets, I followed Sam. My foot still hurt, but I ignored the pain, taking one step at a time.

The staircase ended in a small room with a single exit. It was closed by a hatch, similar to the one I had used to enter the shaft the day before. A metal bar was wedged against it.

"Just to be on the safe side." Sam gestured at the bar, and then he removed it. "We don't want ye people in here stealing our stuff." He opened the hatch, revealing a familiar view.

We were at the swamp end of our cavern, close to the ceiling. The hatch opened onto a small platform with a railing, right next to the crane tracks.

I had been here before. It was the common way to reach the craner's cabin, using a long ladder that went up the cavern wall.

The craner had even once shown me the latch, telling me that it was closed for good.

Now I knew why.

We descended the ladder to the compost heaps at its bottom. It felt good to be back here, with the familiar smells of the ripening earth under the dim nightlight of the lamps above.

"What a stench!" George said.

Ignoring him, I led the way up along the slope to the smithy, praying that Ed would be sleeping there. He preferred that to spending the night at his mom's, enjoying the freedom it gave him to work the metal until late.

When we got closer to the building, I held a finger over my lips. I didn't want the smith to wake up.

The door to the smithy room stood open. Ed usually slept there, next to the warmth of the furnace, while his master had his rooms at the back of the building.

I peeked inside. The poor light made it hard to see, but I found Ed's sheets where I had expected them. They were empty.

I turned to go when loud words stopped me.

"What are you doing here?" Ed stepped from a dark corner, holding a metal rod in both hands. His features relaxed as he recognized me. "Oh, Tim?" He lowered his weapon. "I thought you might be the guards, trying to arrest me, too." He wiped his brow with the back of one hand. "They've been snooping around here all day."

"No, not the guards," I said. "Just me and... them." I gestured at Sam and George, who stood still outside in the nightlight, peering in—two unlikely figures in ragged clothes and with filthy hair.

"Who in the Manuals' name is that?" Ed asked.

"Shh, we don't want to wake the smith."

"Oh, that won't happen." Ed chuckled nervously. "He's smoked himself to sleep and doesn't even wake up when I use the forge." He stepped outside and eyed Sam and George standing right outside the open smithy door. "Good evening."

They both just leered at him.

He looked back at me, frowning. "You shouldn't be here. What are you and... your friends doing here? Where have you been? Everyone says that you disappeared without a trace. And the guards didn't find you."

"It's... complicated." I didn't want to explain it now. "What about the craner? Where is he now?"

"They've arrested him, too." He shook his head. "They took him and your dad to the upper cavern. And... they made Frankie the foreman now."

"What?"

"Yes, Frankie is the foreman, no kidding." Ed rolled his eyes. "You should see him now. He's perfected his swagger, saying that he finally got the job he deserves."

I nodded, remembering the craner talking about how Frankie craved the job of foreman.

"The bishop told him to fix the swamp," Ed continued. "And Frankie has ordered Carp to run the crane. That guy's a menace, I tell you. He almost ran the grapple into the smithy, yesterday. He must have been more stoned than all the rocks in the bloody bunker."

On a regular day, I'd have asked him for all the details, but not now. "Did they say what would happen to my father and the craner?"

"Captain Wolfe said there would be a trial..." He hesitated. "I... am sorry."

A trial—this meant justice would be sought. I would talk there once the pump worked again. Explaining the truth.

But would they forgive the craner for trying to drop the grapple on the guards?

I dismissed the thought. One step at a time, that's what we needed to take now.

"When will they have the trial?" I asked.

He shrugged. "They didn't say. It might be today, tomorrow, next week?"

I had to act quickly, there was no time to lose. "Listen," I said. "My father was right about what he told the bishop. One of the pumps has failed, and that's why the swamp doesn't drain. I've seen it myself."

"Seen what?" He frowned at me.

"I've seen the pumps, and the one that doesn't work, down in some tunnels below us." I pointed at the ground under my feet.

His eyes grew wide. "You've seen the pumps? You've been... in the realm of the Engineers?" He gave Sam and George a wide-eyed glance. They were still grinning. "Are they...?"

"Yes, I've been in the realm of the Engineers." I nodded. Yes, I had acted against the verses of the Manuals. But it was too late to think about that now. "And no, I don't think they're Engineers," I added in a whisper.

Ed took a step back, setting his ample buttocks against a workbench. His mouth hung open.

"And that's why I need you," I said before he could run. "You know about machines. I need you to fix the pump. If anyone can, it's you."

"You want me to come with you into the realm?" He scratched his chin, then he shook his head. "I... I can't do that. My mom would worry herself to death."

"Please," I said. "I won't tell anyone. We'll go there. You'll fix the pump. And we'll come back, right away. No one needs to know that you have been there. Then I'll go to the bishop. I'll tell him... I got the pump fixed, and he'll let my dad and the craner go. You won't be involved. I won't mention you. Will you do that for me? And for my dad?"

He swallowed and stared at Sam and George, who still loitered right outside the smithy.

"And there's all kinds of machines, down there," I said. "Pumps with blinking lights on them. And lamps on wires in a garden."

He took a deep breath. "It's probably the most stupid thing I've ever done, but I'll come. Not for seeing the machines, but for helping you and your dad." He nodded at me, then he grinned. "Just let me get my tools, and we'll be on our way."

I swallowed. I had talked Ed into entering the realm. Into breaking the law of the Manuals.

----

Here's Amy as Tim sees her asleep, drawn by the amazing EvelynHail :

Amy lay curled up around a threadbare stuffed animal with a round head, round belly, and fluffy ears. I had never seen such a creature.