Colonel suddenly imagined the process of the cryonics resurrection, by miracle, after using the extract. He saw the city of souls, ready for resurrection. He could not understand where souls live. Whether in the depths of the earth, or on the sky, or on the back side of the moon? Maybe among earthlings, wandering among the villages where they had felt good. Or on the Sun, where in the unthinkable fire born and bear now soul attributes.

*

Dux saw as a soul, just fertilized by the embryo waiting for exciting delight of the divine sacrament, falls into a boiling cauldron of differentiation and actively seeking for its destiny in the myriad of predestination crossroads. Like artificial and natural seas it distinguish present, true from the substitution. At that moment, the soul may be very afraid of the desired mismatch. An ideal dream can turn into distorted fate, fake or even fabrication of the difficult. No one knows at that moment, which fate will they have. Probably, just Moiras can know. However, at this moment, soul can feel the way up or falling down.

That is why, often in the ugly hopeless creature with hang-ups can live a great growing soul. And vice versa, the creature marked with the talent and the seal of purity, falls apart before your eyes piece by piece and falls into the underworld.

And the fire of love can light up both on the full heaven, and in the ninth hell circle, from which there is no escape at all. And, suddenly, the soul surprises worlds with the highest flying up to the glory of the worlds Creator.

*

War leveled everybody with inevitable. War gives the soul a chance to highlight its darkest corners, to break black palaces of hatred with pure tears of repentance, to hear the last words and to see smiles of dying heroes.

But there is another flip side of the war. It makes to send highly organized virtuous souls which willingly fall into their own underworld, nasty to their whole essence, to reduce consciously, directly or indirectly the variety of creatures and to talk always with the died.

Suddenly, Colonel saw a tree invisible to him, which gave another lot: either to fall into the abyss, or to rise above the divine shining.

*

A strong hissing blow of the twine completely destroyed the remnants of his dreams. Medics, talking about something, pushed Dux through white walls and filtered his one side. The Commission, of twenty people, glared at Colonel. Going around the circle, nurses passed Dux through a lot of devices, sensors and scanners online. Inquisitors were looking at changing pictures on the monitors. They were examining the beginner attentively, emotionally and professionally, made him to put out his tongue, bared his buttocks, ordered to pronounce tongue twisters and put nils and crosses in the computer. Whole information was showed on huge screens.

Colonel observed with curiosity the mirror of corporal intimidation, probably, from the world creation. Dux has already felt many of them on his own back. Images were made in the schedule quite finely. With the Shallow Latin there were written names. Pictures were numbered like solitaire card.

Public Theater of punishment, torture and executions, as a mean of cleansing of undesirable elements, has always been to nowadays: shoes with calks, a heretic fork, a chair for witch bathing, cat's claw, quartering with horses, bulb-press for Skull, the cradle of Judah , garrotte, a screw, Spanish chair, pectoral, Iron maiden - Nuremberg maiden and licking of goat hooves and moistened with brine, so vividly described by Hippolytus de Marsiliis .

Punishment by the wall, drowning in the marshes, beating with stones, pouring into one’s throat molten gold, prolonged hold of acid in one’s eyes, tray torture, crushing with a heavy object, broken of back, putting thorns into the urethra, dissolution of salt in the ripped up belly, hugging with the dead, a wick, a boat with holes, a pincushion, a semi-man on a hot copper grid, pumping with vinegar, strengthen, tying with the corpse and winding nerves on sticks.

Different people added their own to that amazing treasury. Progress of the twentieth century has added such modern distortions and innovation, as the overlap of tubes with splitting axes, burning in the locomotive furnace, the electric chair, freezing outdoors, dissolving without a trace in sulfuric acid, pumping with acetone, steam rooms, gripping male genitalia in vise, injection of gasoline into vein, the cyclone no. 7, lack of sleep and the Afghan Red tulip.

Colonel was stronger than physical intimidations. He was afraid of one thing to betray himself. And then the outside world will calm down him with a little warm lie.

*

Dux was tempted by the theory and practice of domino like a well-trained professional of the late twentieth century. In the depths of the global wars of the century there were born new types of people manipulating. Two hundred and fifty big and small countries have turned into a huge landfill of a new rapidly growing world. There were built ominous serious institutions to manage a lot of people, where a person is considered as an average set of certain parameters, who, God forbid, should not exceed the limits of accepted. Having penetrated into all levels of society, these organizations, one way or another, created the specter of total societies. Their internal logic denies natural prohibition of the Creator and human natural catechism, motivating it by important high hazy interests and giving sensible carte blanche with an awful license. Framed by the advanced technology and solid experimental and informational base, these organizations instead of torture, executions and denials, make the society to play in a puppet theatre, effectively manipulate doses of lies, fear, false enthusiasm, use the whole arsenal of people managing. Instead of burning in fires, hangings and shootings, states, most of all, began using a soft deterred force, creating an attractive image. Huge computers, full of thousand elite brains, receiving salary over the average one, create long-term scenarios in every segment of society and track individuals, who are out of set. Experts sharpened mediators catamnesis of reports, hack personal space, use psychotropic drugs, intimidate with threats of losing jobs. Cultivate hatred, slightly covered with the fig leaf. Invent refined witty tricks. Imprison, put into mental homes or effectively kill them. As said one great manipulator: "To believe in a lie, it must be terrible."

*

And in front of him there appeared an endless wall. A wall of alienation, meanness and fear. A tsunami which can destroy his ego to the ground.

But he didn’t know another.

At the end of his life, he saw a light at the end of the tunnel. He was horrified and frightened of crumpled pile of errors and yellow swamp of self-deception. Every day, every hour, every second he began with the first uncertain steps to clean out polyps of his own mud, to lie and to murder of beautiful, falling down and getting up again.

And blowing up the bonds, moving toward the hurricane, Dux tried to do something impossible, returning to the original purity and repentance saving two hundred generations of his family.

He knew that he could return not only himself. But many others too.

*

Colonel noticed that everyone passing was assigned a three colors badge number: golden, silver, bronze. Dux was given a silver medal. His neighbor was given a bronze table. His intelligent face was tear-stained and unhappy. From his throat one could constantly hear sobs and cries so that one could that a person was completely crushed.

- And where to send you?

- To hell! - He suddenly calmed down and said in a firm voice. – To the golden one give a new form. They are taken without inquiry. To the silver one they arrange interrogations and tortures, with change of consciousness - he lamented again. - And a redesigned skin and blood will leave from us. And our ashes will be scattered.