Jas cowered beneath a pile of rubble and prayed hard he wouldn't be seen.

The searchlight passed over his hiding spot and further down the shelled-out street, towards the river. It pulled, if only for a second, jagged ruins out of the darkness - something that has once been a warehouse, then the empty husk of a factory. This part of the City has never been fully reclaimed after the Twilight Gap. Rust and decay reigned here, amidst already ancient shipyards slowly disintegrating under the flow of time.

Carefully, Jas lifted a piece of broken mirror above the rim of his foxhole and tried to gain at least a measure of his surroundings. It didn't help much - the mirror, as low-tech a device as it gets, refused to reflect anything in the gloom of a cold april night. Then again, it also meant there were no lights close enough to pick him out and signal an end to his adventures.

Still, it wasn't his first trip to the outside of the Wall. He knew how to remain unseen to the patrolling frames, and even found plans of the Wall dating back to the beginnings of the City, with drainage ducts clearly marked and numbered. He spent precious months scouting a safe-ish path outside, to where he was unlikely to ever go if he remained a simple worker of the Daito gun-enclave.

This was the night. His provisions were already smuggled outside; seventy-six almost expired packs of nutrient paste, twelve filters for a pilfered heavy-duty water purifier, seven fully stocked militia-grade medkits and one missing the oxygen mask and splint-spray. He was never to carry all of this on his own back, of course - during the last few weeks he ferried, piece by piece, a refurbished Sparrow to the wind-blown cave he found beneath the eastern-most bastion. The only things left were the aft stabilizers, which weighed down his pack along with a change of clothes, hygiene kits and seventeen clips of ammo for the thing he hoped he'd never use - a Galahad-pattern assault rifle.

He would not trust the weapons his enclave made with his life.

He got up on his palms and knees and shuffled out of cover and towards a man-hole in the middle of the road. The pack, held by its straps until there was no option but to let it drop, went down first. Jas flinched at the loud splash.

Nothing happened.

Jas hurried down after the pack. The waterproofed contents were in no danger from the freezing water, but still...

He groped around in the dark, found a strap and pulled it further down, away from the hole in the ceiling. Ten sloshing steps down, and his right hand, following the wall, hit a void. Jas pulled the pack around the corner and dared to turn on his lamp-pack. The way was still clear. He breathed easier. There was no pursuit.

Everything went smoothly, just as the eighty-nine times before. He quickly dismissed the nagging feeling that someone was watching him. Nobody was here. Nobody but him knew of this way out of the City and into the Caspian Wastes.

His light bounced around the drain in rhythm to his steps. Dancing shadows made him spring and reach to the rifle-case more than once. He realised that he'd never get it out in time if something jumped him here and decided to unwrap it at the first dry spot he'd encounter.

The drainage tube, easily half again as tall as him now, led him on towards a rusted sluice-gate. A few turns of an ancient crank lifted the gate enough for him to push the pack beneath it and crawl after it. He was sodden at this point, freshly-thawed water seeping through his boots and jacket seams. Luckily, he wasn't far from his cave hideout.

Something creaked ominously as he bent to retrieve the pack, and the sluice-gate crashed down behind him. Jas cursed. No going back now. Not that he intended to, anyway - not empty-handed. If - no, when! - he'd return, it would be through the City's gates, hailed and revered.

He patted the data chip strung on a chain around his neck.

The last stretch of the way was, so far, the hardest. The drainage systems opened into a cave system, which, in turn, connected to the river. Jas spent half of his last vacation there, searching for a cave that would both lead him to the outside of the Wall and was large enough to serve as a storeroom. The only suitable option meant a three-meter climb over a sheer wall.

With practiced moves, he tied the pack to his belt with a fiberweave rope and began scaling. He knew the hand- and footholds so well, it almost seemed automatic. Just like operating a weaver-kiln. The calluses were, too, almost the same.

He lay flat atop the wall and pulled the thirty-five-kilo pack up. The rope dug into his palms. He grunted and shifted around to brace his legs at the edge.

A few solid tugs later, he spread his limbs, exhausted, and lay still. The pack chirped gently at his side.

Jas felt his heart sink. He'd have to ditch his communicator, of course - or, at least, the link to the City network. He had tools prepared, the same tools he used to assemble weapons in the dimly-lit halls of Daito Plant 3 and to piece back together the smuggled Sparrow. But now, this low-pitched signal tore at him. It must be Cassie. Always worried for him, always so supportive. She deserved to know.

He took the communicator out. "Unknown number", the screen said.

Jas trembled. Who sold him out? Who could have possibly known? Was it Salavar, the street-racer who sold him the failing bike? Or Dalton, sneaky Dalton and his "ties" in the militia storehouses? Was a squad of frames on its way to arrest him? Did they have a Guardian with them? He'd heard of the Tex Mechanica swindlers who tried to bribe the Crucible Lord. Namely, he's heard nothing of them since they went to meet him.

Could he afford to pick up? Was it the end?

Only one way to know, he decided, and slid a finger across the screen to receive the call.

"Hi, is this Jasker Marlyn?" asked a cheery voice.

"Yes?.." he managed weakly.

"My name is Tom, and I'm calling from Coldwreath Incorporated. We're offering a wonderful spring discount on all of our..."

Jas hung up. He lay there, relieved, for another minute. He then switched the communicator off and dragged the pack the last ten metres to the cave.

It was softly lit by glow-sticks planted around the perimeter. Five modular supply crates stood neatly packed next to a skeletal, stripped of most of its hull plating, Sparrow. A sleeping bag was laid on the ground behind a rock, and a set of fold-out furniture - a table and a chair - stood nearby. It pained Jas to let it go. It has become a home for him almost as much as his single-room flat in the Urban Habitat 1702.

Jas checked his chronometer. Dawn would come in a scant hour or so. He had to be quick if he wanted to leave today.

The stabilizers went in with a satisfying click. A test dry-run of the engine showed that the Sparrow was as ready as it would ever be. The crates were securely attached to the sparrow's sides in a few minutes, forming a pyramid behind the seat. The sleeping bag went over them.

Jas changed into dry clothing, gulped down a stimulant pill and unpacked the rifle. He marveled, for a bit, at its Golden Age-inspired lines, then slotted in a magazine, double-checked that the safety was on and strapped it across his back.

He felt ready for anything.

He guided the Sparrow to the cave mouth. A pale, cold April dawn was breaking over the wasteland ahead of him. The glare should mask him from the sentries on the Wall.

Jas hopped on his Sparrow and sped off, towards the rising sun.

****

++transcript of Guardian chatter, Watchtower 18/4 East++

++identified: g.1: Hunter 34-17/09 Alpha; g.2: Titan 54-11/14 Epsilon++

g.1: Hey, Bres.

g.2: Hmm?

g.1: Remember the nutjob camping in the caves?

g.2: Hmm.

g.1: He's speeding off on a Sparrow.

g.2: Hmm!

g.1: Yeah, I told you so. I could probably put the Sparrow out from under him with a single shot.

g.2: Hmph.

g.1: Oh, he wouldn't be harmed. But you're probably right. We're protecting them from the outside, not the outside from them.

g.2: Hm. HMMM?

g.1: The minefield? Of course I turned it off. Scheduled maintenance, all that. Will be back online in a couple of hours.

++end transcript++