Azhi led Seth through a maze of corridors, and the echo of the pounding on the stone drowned out their steps. They passed the machines which were set up on the floor with cables twining out of them and boxes full of building materials. Standing on the scaffolding, builders smashed the stone, carefully avoiding the ancient bas-reliefs, laid down ducts and mounted devices or sensors.


    Seth walked slowly through the corridors, looking around and admiring the art that he never got the chance to see outside the museum. The deeper he ventured in the underground bunkers of the ziggurat, the better the shapes and colours of the stone figures were preserved. Neither acid rains nor tempestuous winds could reach them there with their devastating power.


    Seth felt the dead eyes of the stony silhouettes staring at him silently. They stood in rank with faces hidden under their hoods. Serpentine pipes and cables poked out of their metallic respirators and connected with some cylindrical tank behind their backs. Edges of their floor-length, dark blue liveries were covered in slightly effaced, geometrical inscriptions. Seth bent over them, trying to decipher the angular letters.


    “And even the death itself…” he muttered.


    “…will fear me eternally,” finished Azhi


    “Yes, I think so,” he said, standing up. “How did you know that?”


    “It puzzles me more about how you could read this inscription.”


    Azhi looked behind. “The Union forbade reading any ancient texts from the Hyperion’s reign. Where did you find access to them?”


    Seth crossed his arms and eyed the scientist with a nervous glance, but he chose his words confidently. “Recently I was on Eurydion for the course you recommended,” said the Celestian, looking sideways “We always had about four hours free in the evening to ourselves, so I often explored the town. I came across a small, old building once… a museum was in it, amateurish and unkempt. I didn’t find anything there that I’d never seen before… shell-cases, batteries of plasma swords from the fifth century, some figurines and pieces of common metal captioned as remains of Fenrir’s helmet. The only person there, besides me, was a sleeping guard. And then, quite by accident, I bumped and smashed a gilded vase. I bent down immediately and started sweeping the pieces under the cabinet when I found a data carrier covered in mud. I hid it in my pocket and walked out, pretending that nothing had happened. This guy didn’t even open his eyes. After I got home, I tried to recover some data…”


    “And what?” Azhi cut in. He held his breath, and his pupils dilated.


    “The carrier had recorded data over a thousand years, but the only things that remained were a few texts and quite a primitive translation.”


    “What did it tell?”


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Seth shook his head. “For me, it was just nonsense. I barely understood…”


    “Tell me,” hissed Azhi through clenched teeth.


    “It said… once there were creatures that,” the young Celestian looked around and took a deep breath, “that would have had no right to exist today.”


    Azhi dug his fingers into Seth’s arms, forcing him to explain further, “Cyborgs… clones…”


    “So it’s true!” Azhi yelled out. “The Union will never tell you about it! The Ilionian Doctrine forbids many things, primarily believing in living gods, but according to it, the worst crime is the genetic modification of intelligent creatures and using machines to control or improve brain function. Have you ever met any cyborg?”


    “Yes, most of them were on Eurydion.”


    “And did you notice that the only implants they had, replaced their limbs or internal organs? None of them, not even the ones sick with neurobiological illness, had brain implants.”


    “It’s obvious,” answered Seth half-heartedly. “Brain implants are never used. It’s an area that shouldn’t be violated in any way.”


    “Why?”


    The young Celestian hesitated. He’d never reflected upon it. For him, just like for all the inhabitants of the Union systems, the subject remained a taboo that nobody ever mentioned. He was taught not to think about it, but the knowledge and views of his employer planted a seed of hesitance in him. The Union had the technology to help people with brain damage, but for some reason, they did not do it.


    “Why?” repeated the scientist.


    Seth shook his head. He felt a massive weight pressing on his stomach as he thought of how he would be punished for talking about subjects forbidden by the Ilionian Doctrine.


    “The Union drew lessons from the past. They feared that somebody could begin to produce genetically or cybernetically modified abominations.”


    “But…” began Seth. He stared at the Celestian with eyes wide open and stepped back. His face paled, and his jaw began trembling. He’d understood the risk from the very beginning, but it was only now that he realised how scared he was. The Union kept their punishment methods a secret, but sometimes photos of their victims leaked to the underground Web, where Seth looked for hidden information about history and ancient cultures. Sometimes he scrolled through those images, but he never paid attention to the charges that those people were sentenced with. Their pictures were not described and even in the underground Web, they usually disappeared after a few minutes.


    He put everything together. The Union never hid common criminals like murderers or terrorists. Only the ones who broke the main premises of the Ilionian Doctrine disappeared under unexplained circumstances.


    “That’s what we plan to do… The SynthBreed Objects! They will kill us for it!”


    “We plan to save thousands of lives that way,” said Azhi. He drew back too, giving Seth the feeling of safety and freedom of movement.


    “If the committee figures out…”


    “They won’t,” he interrupted. “That’s why I relocated to this forgotten by the universe planet. The Union thinks I just wanted to bilk money for another super-weapon, the opposition is roasted for spreading conspiracy theories, and we can carry on our research safely.”


    Seth looked around unsteadily, breathing in the dry, chilly air.


    “We’re surrounded by thick walls that will protect our secrets,” proceeded Azhi, approaching Seth placidly. “These ancient corridors are crossed only by the trusted hand-picked people. The Illonian Doctrine doesn’t apply here.”


    The young Celestian nodded.


    “Come on,” said Azhi, waving his hand.


    Seth walked after Azhi uncertainly, observing his every move with suspicion. His heart returned to its natural rhythm after a while, but he still felt shivers of anxiety under his skin.


    I’m breaking the Doctrine, he said to himself. I may be a criminal in their eyes, but a criminal doesn’t save thousands of lives.