The transit hall of Entry hall 438 was a tall, narrow avenue whose walls were lined with alternating pilasters of white Carrara marble and dark green snake-like.
Overhead, thirty arm-lengths above the floor, the vaulted ceiling was pierced by four large circular oculi that opened into the upper living-glow reservoirs. Through these openings poured a steady, upright waterfall of cold emerald light, cast by millions of glowing salt water-fleas drifting in the high water tanks. The light pooled upon the wet floor flags in four shimmering green discs, bathing the passage in a ghostly, watery radiance.
Qiao Ming and Yan Zhiqiu moved south along the hall, carrying their salvaged spoils upon a low two-wheeled stone hand-barrow that Qiao Ming had retrieved from an ancient upkeep nook.
On the barrow rested the harvested components of the Alpha Hound. Eighteen glowing-bronze gear wheels, the heavy mainspring coils, the three-inch steel harpoon points, and the precious star-fallen quartz command metal tube, wrapped securely in three layers of oiled linen and nestled inside Qiao Ming’s reed basket.
Qiao Ming pulled the barrow by its two curved ash handles, his bare calloused feet gripping the damp snake-like flags with unrushed, rhythmic strides. Behind him, Yan Zhiqiu walked with her recurve bow unstrung in her left hand, her right hand resting on the handle of her courier knife, her eyes scanning the shadows of the high window row.
