The noise in the intake chamber was not a pump.
Kesh stopped before the last flight of steps and lifted one hand.
Iven listened.
A slow scrape came through the open passage. Then another, followed by a low sound too rough to be machinery and too deliberate to be water.
The municipal surveyor beside them went pale.
“Nollit’s in the control box.”
“How long?” Kesh asked.
“Since the first check. He got the door shut. I came for help.”
