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—What is that?


– What's this, I don't even know, heard it around town: seems like it's a toilet, but one you'd want to live in…


– Wow, what a life is coming. In two years it'll reach us too, we'll live like people…


Sardar Kareem had no desire to rush to the capital, even though his friend Nadir held an honorary position in the palace and invited him over. Nadir owed him his life; during a battle, Ali shielded Nadir from a point-blank shot, and now the bullet-scarred bone ached in damp weather. Kareem felt he belonged where he was, the most content man alive, yet the war with Ahmed drained him of strength and health: Ali couldn't stand by as Ahmed plundered the entire region and replaced old seasoned fighters, whom Sardar Kareem had fought alongside in the mountains, with his sycophants and freeloaders… Ali's naive soul saw goodness and loyalty in everyone, ideals they had fought for over the years in the harsh conditions of the Serra mountains, where their leader, the brave hero Kareem, had supported everyone with his courage in the darkest hour, when Renka's forces tried to storm the main rebel base. Kareem painted pictures of a bright future: justice and love would reign in the land, once they expelled the exploiters (a word Ali had been practicing for a week, still pronouncing it syllable by syllable), turning all wastelands into gardens, draining swamps, demolishing prisons to build palaces in their place "…with golden toilets. The boy told the truth. Ahmed sent it mockingly, checking to humiliate his enemy, undoubtedly."


After Kareem's death from a brain fever, power unexpectedly passed to Iosif Besarionis. "The struggle continues!" he declared firmly. He needed the struggle, he hadn't yet held the entire country in his chubby little hands… The diminutive men filled ministries, flooded party and administrative apparatuses; the shorter the stature, the greater the ambition. They began inventing enemies, a bottomless barrel: no matter how much you pour in, it never fills; one enemy begets another, and merely proclaiming "enemy!" demands proof, such frightful times.