– Go, get to work!
Aman-Jalil left the office. Ahmed was left alone. Here it is, the new generation… Who can I work with? He doesn't chatter, he acts quickly. But for him, a person isn't a person, anything but a living person with their own troubles, desires, thoughts. And this one will only know the desires of the bosses and his own desires. Uncertain days are coming. There are few of his own people; I have to take such people. It's dangerous to work with them. Like a circus trainer: the tigers seem tame, but how many trainers have been torn apart as soon as they sense weakness… Oh, damn, I forgot!
Ahmed called. The secretary entered.
– Did Aman-Jalil leave? Bring him back immediately.
The secretary disappeared… After a while, during which Ahmed sat as if hypnotized, staring at one spot, Aman-Jalil entered.
– Listen carefully, jigit: do you know what your first task in the inquisition will be?
– What is it, boss!
– The Gyarov case!
Aman-Jalil was silent.
– Why so quiet?
– I'm calculating.
– Money?
– Time!
Ahmed looked at Aman-Jalil with surprise, and he hastened to explain.
– How much time I'll need for it.
– How much?
– About a month.
– Why don't you ask why?
– Orders aren't discussed.
– He's your own uncle.
– I've known him since childhood; you can't stop someone like him: can't bribe him, can't scare him… Killing him now is out of the question, they'll say it's "terror"!.. So I need a month to prepare everything…
…Wazir looked at Aman-Jalil with pity as he indulged in his favorite pastime: shooting flies. Aman-Jalil's eyes gleamed with the success of his hunt, fingers and rubber band stained with blood.
– What kind of monster have you become, boy?
– A passing young man!
– What kind, what kind?
– My grandmother tells me: "not from mother, not from father, but from a passing young man."
– You have such a wonderful uncle to look up to.
– Everyone's eager to give me examples: at school, on the street, at home. Some say – these are bad, others – those are bad, the third – both are bad. Leave me alone, I am my own "example".
The reflections from the window glass danced on his face, leaving bloody traces. Aman-Jalil, as usual, wiped the sweat from his forehead with blood-stained fingers… Wazir recalled that horrible scene again, tied to the pole, forced to watch as youths just a little older than Aman-Jalil violated his young wife: they frolicked like puppies, squealing with excitement, shoving each other, and then formed a line; the penultimate one failed, frustration stirred his anger and rage; he grabbed a dagger and slit the stomach of the victim lying beneath him. The last one, denied his share, struck the killer, who, his face smeared with the victim's blood, lunged at the offender. They were separated: "there can be no scores between our own," they made them shake hands and kiss each other. The second one also got smeared in blood. The last one was offered to rape Wazir, quickly untied him from the pole and pulled down his pants, but the last one kicked Wazir in the naked ass and left, offended and unsatisfied…
"The same face, the same fanatical eyes, one thought has seized him, one crazy thought, but who can you prove it to? I see, no one else… Gyarov, such a good man, and he thinks highly of his nephew: obedient, kind, willing to share his last piece… They see what they want to see, they don't see what they don't want to understand. Now he's frying flies and calmly watching their suffering, not just calmly, but with pleasure, and then… Gyarov laughs: 'children always grow up as researchers, studying nature, curious about it'… This is not studying, this is self-education"…
Wazir went to his room but then turned around and quietly asked:
– Why do you kill flies?
– They spread disease; we were taught in school, – Aman-Jalil calmly replied, without anger or irritation.
– Want me to give you a flyswatter? "With one swipe, I'll kill seven."
– I don't want one, what do I need it for? Flies don't interest me; I'm interested in hitting or missing with the rubber band, where I hit: the head, or the wing, or the abdomen. And your flyswatter, I've seen it, slap, and the fly falls whole, like alive.
Wazir left the room. Fiery circles danced before his eyes, and someone's voice drove each word into his head like a nail: "And I saw in the right hand of him that sat on the throne a book written within and on the backside, sealed with seven seals. And I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a loud voice, who is worthy to open the book, and to loose the seals thereof? And no man in heaven, nor in earth, neither under the earth, was able to open the book, neither to look thereon. And I wept much, because no man was found worthy to open and to read the book, neither to look thereon"…
Day after day, Aman-Jalil walked joyfully, but the appointment as chief inquisitor of the region did not come from the capital. Gradually, the joy began to fade, doubts arose that Aman-Jalil didn't want to admit to himself: "Did they pass me over?.. Ahmed can't know about the documents. Then who? Who crossed the line?"
Finally, Ahmed summoned Aman-Jalil. He was silent for a long time, imitating the Great Iosif Besarionis, smoking his favorite "Duchess" cigarettes.
– You'll work as deputy for now… – he began apologetically. – They've decided at the palace that you're still too young to be the chief inquisitor. Besides, the current chief is an old fighter, a comrade of the Leader… Between us, I'll tell you, he's seriously ill, won't last long, a few years at most, he has cancer, you see?
– There are already two deputies for the chief; who will I replace?
– Not in place of anyone… You'll be the third… Directives came from the emir's palace: about liquidation.
– What does that mean?
– All dissenters, all who oppose can be plundered, proceeds go to the state.
– Glorious, eh!
– You will handle this.
– As you say, boss… And if someone resists or complains?
– Those who resist, you can kill them, and those who complain, exile them to the most remote and coldest island of Bibir.
– Understood, sir!
Ahmed fell silent again for a long while, but Aman-Jalil pressed on.
– It's been half a month for Gyaur… Anything yet?
