Nukledeus

The Shadow Girls' den was in an uproar. The raid, completed at dawn, had been unsuccessful. Bertille was not surprised, she suspected Mona of merely trying to stall for time and gain information. Incidentally, she was still wondering about the selection of Flora, known to be calm and rather gentle for a Shadow Girl. What kind of torture could imagine her contemplative mind?

The reason for the commotion was Suzanna. The new favorite, Daphné's successor, was lying on a bed in the room next to the interrogation cell. The Section leader, Dolick, had brought her back in the early hours of the morning, when the troop returned. Respectful but cold, he was carrying her exactly the same way as he did for the prisoner Gili a few hours before, which was not without disturbing the onlookers.

There were no other victims. Flora was now busy registering the testimonies of the other Shadow Girls who had been outside with Suzanna and, on Mona's order, Bertille interrogated the arkian soldiers to obtain «by all means» the sequence of events.

The debriefing had not taken place yet, since Suzanna, unconscious, was unable to make her report. All these setbacks disrupted Bertille's secret projects, she was nervously champing at the bit while trying to pry the truth out of the toughest soldiers she had ever met.

She had requested to separate the soldiers in adjoining cells with guards outside for security reasons. In each room there were three Shadow Girls at all times, which was the usual procedure for interrogations. But then, Bertille had no way to sneak out and carry her message to the secret dovecote of her contact. It seems Mona had decided to fill every minute of her lieutenants' schedule. In fact, since Daphné's death, being alone for five minutes was a feat. Suspicion had replaced trust, the Shadow Girls watched one another night and day.

Running out of time and for once unable to meet Mona's challenge, Bertille resolved to resort to injections of truth serum. She asked Mathilde to tell the doctor, knowing that Mona would be the first to know. The leader had ordered to use all means, chemistry was one of them. While waiting for the products to be brought in the room, Bertille had an excuse to take a break and discreetly carry her message without being followed since all the Shadow Girls were busy obeying Mona's orders promptly.

Nicolas welcomed Mathilde with heartfelt delight. A close friend of Daphné's, she had suffered greatly from her passing and had maintained, through thick and thin, her trust in the "good doctor" even defending him when rumors of poisoning had spread among the Shadow Girls. Thanks to this unwavering support and Mona's leniency and trust, his customers were gradually coming back. Always considerate, the elder among the Shadow Girls brought, from Mona and herself, baby clothes for Clara. A hat and a hand-knitted wool cardigan to keep her warm, a crochet blanket for the night. When did they find the time to make these gifts?

Clara was awake and did not make any difficulty to get out of the warm nest against her father's skin and to snuggle in Mathilde's arms. Nicolas immediately felt the cold empty space and the missing comfort where he kept his treasure with him night and day. He forced himself to smile and started putting the cardigan and the hat on his beloved daughter.

He took countless precautions with her to avoid having to give her any chimiocs. During gestation, he had made nutritional solutions especially for her without the usual medicines, so much that when she was born, the head of the little one was covered with fine, soft hair.

Mathilde delicately stroked Clara's head, lifting up the short hair to appreciate its color and texture.

– She looks like Daphné. She's her daughter too, isn't she?

This lifelong friend had one of the most perceptive minds Nicolas had ever met. He just nodded with a happy smile and Mathilde kissed Clara's little forehead before returning her, now well wrapped up, to her daddy.

Back to business, she told him the reason for her visit. Nicolas replied that he didn't have enough truth serum left, but that he still had some vials of pentothal at the clinic. He reluctantly agreed to entrust Clara to Mathilde and to fetch the products. If there was one person throughout Ark City who could take care of his treasure, it was good old Mathilde.

After a thousand recommendations, he closed the door behind him, dreading to hear his daughter's squalls. He waited on the threshold for a few seconds to listen. Silence. Everything seemed to be going well. He then left his refuge, his heart torn but his mind free, eager to carry out his task to better return to snuggle against Clara in their small family nest.

Bertille slipped into the alleys and underground tunnels leading to the third "gate of the Shadows". She was in a hurry. She knew the way by heart and knew exactly where and when she needed to turn around to catch a possible pursuer.

She still had to crawl through a narrow tunnel so deep that she could feel through her clothes the dampness of the soil, which had been dry above ground, and the coldness of the rock. The slightly pungent smell of the earth stung her nose, but she had no choice. The other road was far too exposed and was surely monitored by the city guards during the curfew.

Finally, she arrived in the maintenance corridor number seven and flattened herself against the wall. People seldom used this passageway but better safe than sorry. At the end of the pitch black corridor, the outside light outlined the rectangular contour of the heavy sliding door. Bertille calmed her breathing and listened. Satisfied, she then pressed her face to a crack in door. The way was clear.

Without a sound, she opened the door, thoroughly oiled by the Shadow Girls, and stick her head out to check once more. She then pushed the door enough to slip out and ran to the third gate of the Shadows. She was now more exposed than ever. She held her breath while checking that the lock had not been replaced and rushed inside where, relieved, she was able to breathe again.

She was in a tunnel drilled through the outer defensive wall. This access, like other gates of the Shadows, was used to dispose of waste, and this one in particular was often used to throw away the corpses of the Arkians, criminals or others, who were deemed unworthy of the Reunification ceremony.

Through this tunnel, the Shadow Girls could recover the bodies of their comrades who died during the raids. However, Mona usually preferred to bring them back after each task to prevent them from falling into the hands of the arkian authorities. It was her way of protecting the mortal remains from being inspected, autopsied, studied, dismembered sometimes, or worse: devoured by the cannibals lurking outside. To the extent that the only body recovered here in recent years had been Daphné's.

Bertille came closer to the edge. The opening was several meters above the outer ground but the wind, perhaps with a little help from the regular users of this access, had amassed a huge dune of sand, dust and earth against the wall. It was easy to step outside the city by walking along the wall and climbing down the side of the dune. The feet barely sinked into the earth baked by the sun day after day, if at all.

But Bertille did not want to go down. The dovecote of "Admiral Nelson" was on the defensive wall itself. The birds nested in gaps where stones were missing. She had to climb a few meters and was always in an uncomfortable position to catch the birds. Fortunately, they were tame, obedient and not very wild, which made the task easier for her. She hurried back.

She could hear in the distance, in front of another wall face, shouts and bursts of gunfire from the guards in charge of protecting Ark City. The fighting was raging on the ground below and she didn't want to be caught up in a war that didn't concern her. She searched frantically with the tip of her boot for the holds she had used to climb before. The noises were getting closer. If a guard turned his head, it would be the end for her. She made an easy target, flattened against the wall, exposed to gunfire, sun and wind.

Relieved, she reached the edge of the opening and jumped inside. Daphné was standing in front of her. Stunned by this ghostly apparition, Bertille lost her balance and was about to fall into the void when Daphné's hand burst forth, as fast as lightning, and grabbed her wrist. She was not a ghost but a human being of flesh and blood. Daphné, her lifelong enemy, had just saved her life. But this damn woman was supposed to be dead. Bertille couldn't believe that she had been wrong once again and Daphné survived . Enraged, she threw herself against the young woman, tackled her to the ground to immobilize her and, placing her hands around the delicate and thin neck, she squeezed with all her strength.

– I should have known Nicolas would find a way to save you. What a hypocrite! If you had seen the fuss he made after you left. This time, I don't need to take so many precautions, you're already dead. And I had so mush trouble buying those poisoned chimiocs without arousing suspicion! I'm gonna finish the job and get rid of you for good. The cannibals will eat your corpse with relish and make your remains disappear.

Chloé struggled with all her strength but the fighting outside had already exhausted her strength. As the battle raged, she had taken refuge a little further away, instinctively, in the hiding place that concealed Mona's motorcycle. The impressive machine was still brand new.

Examining the wall from the ground, hoping despite everything that a memory would come back to her, she then saw the No-light climbing up the wall. She thought it was a sign of fate showing her the way in and, without thinking, had climbed the dune to end there, strangled by Daphné's murderer. With one hand, Chloé tried in vain to free her neck from the pincer-like hands of the enemy so that she could breathe. With the other, she pushed back her attacker's face, trying to blind her by thrusting her fingers into the half-closed eyes glinting with cruelty. That look would no doubt be the last image she would take with her in death. Her brain was running out of oxygen, her eyesight was blurring, and yet Chloé continued to struggle desperately.

Neither of the two fighters heard the steps or saw the shadow of the one who now stood behind them. With a sudden gesture, he grabbed Bertille's hair and pulled her backwards sharply. He slipped his arm around her neck while waving the blade of a dagger a few inches from her eye. He was tall and strong. Bertille's feet were no longer touching the ground and yet she was kicking and elbowing him frantically to free herself, until he whispered something in her ear.

In her panic, she did not understand everything. It seemed incoherent to her but he seemed to talk about roasting her, swallowing her eyes or burning her hair to remove them faster. She immediately froze and agreed to his request to take them inside the City. Yet she told them the normal path, not the path through the tunnel, knowing full well that they would be spotted by the guards.

After receiving the instructions, Fergus slit the throat of this arkian woman who wanted to kill Chloé so much and left the lifeless body in a pool of blood, to rot under the defensive wall.

With the help of Olek, who was under his care, Fergus lifted up Chloé who was still struggling to breathe and all three finally entered the City.