And Dux floated over night cold waters of the Danube. He was happy to read good books and was still alive. Shots calmed down.

Everything would be good, but he was injured. The bullet affected his left body side. He lay on his back motionless, sometimes sticking out his face, observing thousands of southern night stars.

He got used to extract with his teeth the shrapnel and splinters from the wound, to keep silent patiently during the unbearable pain, change bandages from improvised means during fights. Specificity of his job was such that all wounds he got in full swing of the task.

The hubbub of the bridge and noise of the police cars the and along the river calmed down. Colonel went out near Wisznice in the outskirts and where there was written uneven "At World's End." Dux unsuccessfully tried to warm. He felt shivery in the whole body. Having twisted around his wound, in which somewhere in depth was a bullet, reeling he moved desperately to the east. Sometimes consciousness left him. Instead of an earth dusty dirt road there appeared a moon one, sparkling with unbearable anthracite from his twenty years dream. And then, reeling, appeared his friend, clinging to Colonel and supporting him with a torn thread of the elected. Which had beginning but it did not have end.

Along the Danube passed a heavy morning sigh. Dux passed two kilometers, but the road was neither time nor space. His whole life went in on a needle tip. The needle was piercing the fabric of the universe, broke someone's fate and left small bundles of memory and drew a line of destiny.

That line didn’t have either beginning or end. And this line was divine.

"Thank you friend," - mad, said Colonel. "You showed me not only the place. Thank you, my friend! "

*

It was quickly dawning from the northeast.

"The day will be hot" - thought Colonel. - "It’s a blessed place". Rare toy houses were buried in a variety of lush plants. With the first morning light stirred up birds, hurrying loudly to report to the luminary about their existence.

In such a delightful place, a prison, a cement plant and all the more Maher’s residence seemed not to be. By hardly perceptible signs Dux realized that he was in the right place, which was discerned by the general layout, powerful hollow automatic gates, a high thorough fence stretching into the distance, cameras set at every fifteen meters, and a figure in black, known from Hong Kong.

Not far from the residence there was a deep from the rut of a track-type tractor. Having passed a couple of hundred meters, Colonel found the Russian DT-75. It was an old deterrent bulldozer which one could not see in toy Europe. Dux hardly started that machine. He felt like a significant and important farmer at the plowing up of virgin lands. Approaching as close as possible to the residence, he aimed the tractor straight at the gate in all the bulldozer horsepower and hid in the green thicket.

Shooting at crawler bulldozer sections remembered a little bit Zava city capture. The guards were shooting at the iron mountain from weapons of different calibers. But the caterpillar did not give up and, at the end, punched out a hole in the fence. Probably, the tractor would have continued its victorious march, smashing walls, but mahers surrounded him and with the hate began to pull the brass tubes and multicolored wires out. Bulldozer heavily breathed and calmed down.

In the bustle mahers did not immediately noticed a parliamentarian with raised hands and holding a white flag. Forty guns simultaneously aimed at Dux.

*

- The same person - laughed Colonel, recognizing the same boss who once arrested him in Hong Kong. - Everything repeats and in this whirl one can’t escape himself.

The officer grinned.

- We have also learned how to correct mistakes, throwing out old drafts.

- Do you have anything new? Sulfuric acid, hot handcuffs, maksubi?

- No, the worse! It will be something new and fun, - clenching his teeth, said the chief.

Forty guards brought Dux into a large building down-to-earth approach. They passed to the newly arrived terrible guard, a little bit similar to the three-headed Cerberus from Dante's first hell circle.

Pointed quadrangular lamps which he has already seen somewhere, and moderated cemetery music tuned to a cheerless festive mood. He couldn’t see the word "exit" anywhere. A white wide opened wall from where no one has ever returned. Colonel looked curiously around the large room. Bright high walls of new composites with a lot of built into lamps, were flooding the hall with unbearable light.

Hundreds of novices were sadly expecting for their fate. Some of them showed signs of beating, that’s why they looked intimidated. Somehow, probably trough the walls, were coming the employees of the organization, looking quite imposingly, a mixture of the white overall, a uniform and bulk airy capes. Importantly, proudly and intently they were bustling about and disappearing in white walls.

Dux, with invisible small steps came closer to the stout sanguine merry fellow.

- Who is that?

There were standing in the distance a few hundred people. They crowded, their look was so terrible that Colonel’s hair stood on end. Sometimes they shouted something unintelligible, like deaf-and-dumbs’ sounds.

- These are from the other world.

- What do you mean?

- In a literal sense. They are just from the refrigeration chambers.

- A good company.

The sanguine seemed to smile.

- Hey, guy, do not turn and do not talk. Or I will whip you.

Really, one could see on some people clear ruby impact marks. Soon he finally assured in it. At the head of that disorderly crowd someone began to speak loudly. Several seconds later came nurses and several strange personalities. Supposedly, they were waiting for the order, attacked a displeased one and beat cruelly him, using fists, a truncheon, whips and an electric shock.

- And who are they? - Dux said softly, without turning around.

- They are worse than people. These are the volunteers. Most of all, be afraid of them!

Volunteers headed by the orderly carried the beaten off into some chink, hiding him behind smooth white walls.

The time stopped. Colonel saw coming out newly arrived of different doors and disappeared. People seemed to be packed goods from the supermarket. Some of them seemed to be forgotten about they were lying on the marble floor.

Dux estimated recruits practicability. They turned out to be not more than three hundred per hour.

"Not many," - thought Dux. "In comparison with every second birth of three children in modern humanity. Even at ten such Maher’s sendings, he is doomed. He can certainly become the next World’s shaker. He can even affect for short time, at irreversible mankind processes. But it will lead just to a decrease in vita, macro-factor of life, initially full of love and goodness. "

*

Colonel entered the state close to the lethargic sleep. He knew he was about to be come two white nurses like angels. He would have to drink a cup full of corporal sufferings and transformations. And then they would take up the soul.

He saw souls of nurses, managers, performers, Maher’s will and his top managers. One could see in them long time ago hid and depicted boundary of indistinct indignations, a complete separateness of individuals. They played some crazy performance. The representatives of the organization were wearing an almost perceptible dress code, for that they do not stand out from certain boundaries and professional parameters set by his boss and, damn bather, of course, loved their job, joy from a short portion of the boundless power over such things, with a particular pleasure of executioner.

Dux clearly imagined the average employee of the organization, as he at lunchtime eat merrily his vegetable soup with his family, ask his children about marks at school, thinking about fixing the iron and buying a new bed. Between times, in the morning, he kills two rigid men, and applies to the last the fourth level of intimidation. With pleased he observes as a future uncouth fellow writes confession and willingly sells Maher’s army his soul for thirty pieces of silver, and then happily drinks hot chocolate for one dollar from the automatic machine.