When they were in the front of the gates of Agernox, they noticed several merchants with carts entering the capital. No one stopped them or blocked their way. Ofir, Egon, Guillotine and Homer looked at each other questioningly and quickened their pace and, in a minute, passed the security post without any problems. None of the guards asked who they were or why they had come. On a wooden podium, right on the opposite side of the street, a guy was standing and shouting into a megaphone how the opposition, led by the notorious Boadicea, was able to negotiate with the government and now they all went together on a zeppelin to inspect the surroundings of the country and solve the pressing issues.

“For fuck sake.” Said Guillotine.

They approached the guy and asked who Boadicea was, and he told a story about Rufus, about the views of the opposition and about a happy ending. They moved away so that no one could hear their conversation and Ofir asked:

"That Rufus who let us through the wall a couple days ago?"

"Yeah."

"So he wasn't a metentis, he was just leading an insurgency and he was killed for it."

"Seems so."

"Do you believe that Boadicea made an agreement with Gennox?"

"I would rather believe that Guillotine is watering his roses at night in the backyard of his house."

Everyone laughed and fell silent, Egon said:

"So they met with Gennox and they killed them."

"It's not like them."

"Yes, the government remained in the shadows for so many years and then they met with revolutionaries. Strange."

"Probably, Gennox decided to gather their enemies in one place, where only the inquisition can pass, and killed them in a quiet one."

"Yeah. If there were any Gennox at all. Maybe it was a trap of the Inquisition."

"Did they really buy into such a stupid bait?"

"Poor people…"

"They lived as naive fools and died the same way. There is nothing to feel sorry about. We're going home." Egon said.

"You've become too cruel," Homer replied.

"With the death of Metyr, my humanity also died."

They dispersed in all directions under the steely sounds of machine tools working with might and main in factories, releasing steam into the atmosphere with a rough bass.

***

Alason was sitting in his small, cozy, well-equipped office. There were small cabinets with bookshelves, a large table for receiving people and comrades, on which there were pens, papers and other stationeries. Alason himself was sitting on a comfortable rocking chair and signing another document.

"Wanna sleep," he said to himself.

He looked in the small mirror on his desk, saw the bruises under his eyes and continued to sign paper after paper. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

Jacob came into the office.

"Are you preparing the documents for the Inquisition?"

"The faster I’ll finish, the faster they’ll leave me alone."

"What about that old man? What's his name? I forgot."

"I don't remember either. I didn't include him in the report."

"Do you think they won't be interested?"

"I don't even doubt it. We have conducted our own investigation. Let them sort out the rest themselves."

They fell silent. Alason turned the pen in his hands, looked at Jacob and said:

"Damn. Ask someone to find out who he was and if there are any relatives, and let someone take care of his funeral. He is a man after all, and apparently, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He doesn't deserve such a fate."

"I thought you wouldn't order it."

Alason did not answer, took out the last sheet, signed it and leaned back in his chair and swayed.

"Will you give the documents to the courier at the same time?"

"This little piece of paper?"

Alason looked at the huge stack on the right corner of his desk and nodded his head in their direction.

"Those."

"Everything is clear there anyway, why so many papers?"

"The first circle of bureaucracy."

Jacob smiled, took the entire stack of documents and went towards the exit. Alason stopped him and asked:

"Are there many people there?"

"As usual."

"Devil."

"That's the one."

Jacob went out the door, and Alason looked at the desk clock, listened to it tick and how the minute hand moved smoothly to the twelve mark. As soon as the time came, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" he shouted.

A woman came into the office.

"Comrade Commander General," she shouted and ran around.

"I'm just a regular cop. What happened to you?" Alason asked, and his speech spiced with sadness and fatigue.

"They were killed!"

Alason raised his head.

"Who was killed?"

"Timur, Ignat and my quietty-kity Rita!"

"Who killed him?"

"My husband. Fucking bastard! I forgave him everything: thrashing, bullying, beatings, but this! Oh, sweety... This is beyond my strength! They were just kids!"

"Kids?"

"Yes!"

"Did your husband kill your children?"

"Yes!"

"God bless this world! Where are they now? I'll send my guys there immediately!"

"Behind the door."

"Behind the door?"

"Yes. Should I bring them here?"

"Did you put three children's corpses in the corridor?"

"And where else should I put them?"

Alason got up from the rocking chair, went out into the corridor and saw about fifty people, thought that the day would be longer than usual. Then he glanced at the nightstand. The woman followed him, went to the bedside table and showed three hamsters in the package, stroked them, saying: "my good ones." Alason spat on the floor and asked:

"Are your children hamsters?"

"Yes. I'm infertile myself."

Alason saw several smiling faces, rolled his eyes and said:

"All right, ma'am, fill out the form at the entrance, and we'll figure it out. Your husband will fall under the article animal cruelty."

"Thank you! Thanks! Comrade General Generalissimo! I am very grateful to you!"

Alason said nothing and went back into his office and rubbed his watery eyes and sat back down.

Another knock on the door.

"Come in!"

A very rare creature for these places entered his office. Alason didn't remember the name of the race, but it didn't matter to him. The creature had pointed ears and horse hooves, while the rest of the body was very similar to a human.

"What happened to you?" Alason asked.

"Discrimination."

"More specifically."

"They're making a scapegoat out of me!"

"A scapegoat, then."

"Just because I have hooves, it doesn't mean that I'm a bad worker."

"It doesn't mean that."

"Then why don't they hire me?"

"And where did you want to get a job?"

"Kindergarten. I love children very much."

"I wouldn't say that the children will love you."

"The main thing is the soul!"

"I'll not argue here. Only your soul is blackish."

"After all, you took an oath to help people!"

"And other creatures."

"Exactly!"

"OK. But you were involved in selling drugs, right? Maybe this was the reason for the refusal?"

"That was a hundred years ago."

"That was a week ago. You're on parole."

"Is it because I have hooves on my feet?"

"How does one fit in with the other?"

"You're just a racist, Mr. Policeman."

"I just want to go home. And you can make an application at the entrance, but I would choose another place if I were you."

"What place?"

"The one where you won't sell drugs to kids’ parents. The place where people will write a complaint against you for such a proposal, and you will go to prison for twenty years."

The creature got up from the chair, spat on the floor and hit the door with its hand and left."

Alason got up and wiped the floor. He sat back down.