- Does the eternal love exist?

Colonel realized his neighbor had something to tell, but two men had been separated forever by that accidental meet. He was given a striped prison uniform with the cap and left in the parallelepiped room without windows, chairs and tables. Dux enthusiastically went around the tiny perimeter. The time stopped in the center of the space by the order "stand at ease." Silence overcame his being. He couldn’t hear any sound. The outside world full of troubles, danger and constant irritants, in a moment closed silently. He enjoyed the novelty of sensations. Walls were, probably, from effective soundproof panels.

*

Unexpectedly, inspiration swept over him like a breath of spring wind, like trepidation of main words excitement, like an instinct of muted mortal danger.

Angels in endless colored kaleidoscopes unraveled new bright missing images, going over someone's endless options former lives as a huge solitaire. He saw their second and third rows invisible rows, showing another sound and meaning, birth and death, love and stupor, with unknown words and notes, which don’t exist.

*

Dux could not remember how he leaned against in some unnatural position and as from the fog there materialized a big shiny sleek blond mug, which moved with hand and said:

- Are you drunk?

Colonel instinctively straightened

- Actually, I'm sober.

It was very stupid.

A powerful mug, with a neat beard, obvious demonic desire to be the absolute head of the county, an insinuating voice, sadistic leaning, with a deep knowledge of human soul and body, as if a read book, he seemed was about to smile and to say: "I was joking." But he became severe, he clenched his teeth, his eyes stared sharply at Dux and he hatred approached him.

- Do not pretend to, that's a bit too thick, if I decipher you.

He grabbed him with his greasy red fingers.

- Come on.

They passed through dark corridors and entered a room where he was waited for by two chiefs.

- Title the paper. Without my tip.

Colonel began to write something like a brief autobiography. A few minutes later the three of them at the table quickly grabbed a sheet of paper and eagerly read the text. During reading their faces darkened, and then a blond boss stood up and furiously shouted:

- What did you write?! You composed unnecessary autobiography. Your scribble is good only for the toilet. You decided to mock at us! Will you write the truth?

- I have nothing more to add, - said Colonel.

- You probably do not understand me, I ask you, what conclusion have you drown? - pressed the chief.

- I have already said.

- Well, what conclusion have you drown to? A conclusion is a conclusion?

- Write and sign it.

- We do not make mistakes! We will not act regardless of everything. I repeat, we can do anything, and we will not act regardless of everything.

- A conclusion ...

- Attention, start you work! – a blond fat man grinned.

There started a terrible battle. Seventy beats with a whip, rubber batons, burned electrical wires, sticks, stools ... They burned the body with a cigarette, a lighter and a candle. Beat everyone severely with: hangers, rulers, paperweights, keys, boots, fists and in sides. They beat the knees, especially painful beat in head. They spat in his mouth. They threatened to "make thin", nicknamed "a diver" in all their actions one could see lies and provocation. It was terrible to believe that everything was suffered by a living person. But that was only the beginning.

A few hours later, Colonel lost partly his heart.

- You will experience the same things, - ordered the blond and the assistants began to sound into Dux ears.

- You won’t scare me, I'm not afraid of you, you will answer someday for taking innocent.

- End of tales! We'll turn on the transformation of consciousness - The blond said.

He was thrown into a cement basement with moldy rotting. Then took to the bath, washed with the hose, dressed in a new grey decent robe and brought him handcuffed under supervision of sanitation of the tall to a shining bright room with the mysterious large medical equipment. A nurse, a medical assistant and a blooming lady helped to dress up Colonel in something like a wetsuit or a tight-fitting suit, in a way that he had holes only for eyes, nose and mouth.

- Will it be painful? - asked Colonel.

- No, - said the lady calmly.

- Come on, - ordered the nurse. They brought this strange cosmonaut to specialists, they were five. They indifferently looked at a toy victim and stared at the screen. The head of the team with a forgettable face was hidden behind thick small glasses. He looked at the poor with a cynical smile, as if he knew a secret which had a senior officer.

- Look, - he cheerfully opened a thick plump virtual folder with a large monitor. - We have prepared some excerpts from your, it must be said, work.

Slideshow impartially painted his carefree childhood, fixing certain points, such as: torture of cats, early play in mom and dad, broken social engineering, stealing apples at the vegetable store. Short episodes showed pacifist sentiments: private refusal to kill a soldier from Angola from the operation Proteus, absence without leave, communicating with foreigners, climbing through windows, internal dissent, stealing of military property on trifles, outright cowardice, escape, weakness and at the end, betrayal. With the age, Colonel had to leave soldiers, to bring the platoon to the swamp, to feed people with promises, openly deceive them, to save their miserable skin and to lie everyone that you are a real lifesaver. For years he has learned to expand the world and to see it from above. Sadly Dux saw narrow blinders of human actions boundaries. Coming out of the delineated red flags, he looked at fussy lifestyle with the desire to pity colorful worlds, to be a giver of life to enjoy positive development and to be happy with it.

The bitter pill of the back side of his life was his work. Cleaning-up operations, shooting, enemy extortion, secret murders, tricks, deceptive maneuvers, counter-terrorism, managed terrorism, explosions of dams, rivers of blood ... contrary to expectations in his heart was a hope that he could change his fate, that he would be a herald of a new formation. By the end of his days, he began to turn into almost Mennonites, a man who eagerly caught a breath of fresh air of a new bearing world.

- Ready? – the head pointed at something, like a coffin.

- What is your name? - Asked Dux.

By surprise he replied:

- Sean. It’s for what?

- I see through you. You hide burned unfulfilled childhood dreams behind the thick glasses. Why? Is it lack of love? Job surrounded by a concrete lie where the truth had been lost long ago? Furthermore, once, the first move was wrong, and you continue to be responsible for something like a screw of a rusty mountain?

Sean flashed with his glasses furiously.

- Go a little louse. You will feel good there.

- Instructions prohibit?

- You are running into?

- Revelation upon revelation?

- Well! I am American! I’m a worker. We are Babels. My favorite work is to kill people like you. You're not a traitor. Bachelor! You and all the rest will pass our organization ... Death to bais! - he cried fierce and frenzy.

Before changing consciousness, which is worse than death, Dux sincerely laughed. He regretted that the executioner, who could not, and did not want to get rid of his favorite systems. And at the last moment, he believed that he could win, by miracle. Because of love.

He was calm and his soul, easily and peacefully, flew through all nine colors, nine borders and nine worlds, approaching heaven ineffable light.

After some manipulations, such as injections of tranquilizers, psychotropic drugs, temporary suffocation of certain parts of the brain, a metered local electric shock, selective erase of memory, relaxation with handfuls of the multicolored pharmakos, powerful excitation with benzene derivatives, Colonel began to lose his own identity. His face began to turn into a terrible wolf's grin. His hands began to twitch like sleeping dog paws. In his whole being spilled fierce hatred to all everything, involved in disbelief and fear. He stopped distinguish the truth to which he has been going for the whole life. Cutting out, smothering, corroding by the new computer program knife his personality cut off on parts. In front of him there appeared a new look: an evil primitive animal, a toad with complexes, the old woman, stale mediocrity. Primary strength became to leave him.