"Will blow himself up if so ordered," Raven heard within himself again. He couldn't believe that anyone around him had been able to control his subordinates to such a degree. He had worked so hard to keep discipline among his own people. He had been executed for almost nothing, and kept in pits for weeks, and socialized the families of the dead. But to get that kind of discipline…

No. It seems impossible. And yet there's a man alive who organized it right here. A hundred meters underground. If he's still alive, as they say.

But if you agreed to take it, you're alive. It can't be otherwise. Especially alive since he's determined that the meeting can be underground. You can't smoke him out now. If he survived an assassination attempt, you can't smoke him out. Actually, it's not the first assassination attempt.

He organized the past. Even though he knew it wasn't gonna work. And the guy was just a waste of time. He never made it past the entrance. I'm surprised he even got there. He was supposed to be shot on the way in and just report to the prefect about the weirdness. And he even went through the elevator… However, it wasn't too hard for such an unnecessary little thing to get through the elevator....

All we had to do was break up the Mountain and Cobra. It was immediately obvious that they were going to work too closely together. An experienced politician like Raven didn't need this strengthening of Cobra, especially from outside. He knows how important it is to make sure that the spikes are not out of the ordinary, but like everyone else. Which is more than can be said for Cobra. He's out of line. And the incident with the failed assassin didn't help matters much. But it worked pretty well for someone else. I don't know if the prefect is dead or alive.

No, I'm alive, of course. Otherwise they wouldn't have agreed to take me in. They would have found any reason and said that it was not the right time, that they couldn't do it now, and all the other things they usually make up when they are not supposed to give the right answer. So the Mountain is alive and waiting downstairs. After that damn elevator, where his man is like a zombie and everything can go off just on command.

Raven exhaled the air to relax a little. It had been a long time since he'd been so hesitant to do something, especially something he'd already decided to do. This demonic component of the Mountain's power was becoming all-consuming, all-encompassing, pervasive....

Who was it that said the days of the Kiwis were numbered since the Mounties got self-rule?

The Jackal? Yes, yes, the sly shifter we didn't have time to execute in front of the entire Hivi

leadership… But just because he's a traitor doesn't mean he's wrong. There is, indeed, good sense in his words. The power of the Mountain is fundamentally different from that of the Hivi, who do not have their own backbone, the structure of the organization that he has. A subterranean organization, where one can only enter and leave by strict permission. Where they don't see the sun every day, but only when they are allowed. Where the Sun for them is a prefect who does what he wants with them with the permission of the plagues. And, as it turned out, also decides to live or not to live for them as he wants … No, these are not the Kiwis, who have been rattling their weapons for a hundred years, but cannot seriously agree with each other....

Raven pressed the communication button, and he was immediately answered…

***

The plan was to send the first platoon first, then the second, then descend with the third, and leave the fourth on the surface. But the instructions from the prefect went against this understanding. "Only 20 men and no more," it was said from downstairs over the communications, and it was clear that either this would have to be agreed to or just leave. Raven had to agree.

He stood next to the elevator, realizing that this way he would have more control, and perhaps even something to negotiate if something went wrong. Besides, he was genuinely curious about what a man who was always ready to die might feel inside.

– My name is Raven. – He began, realizing that he had to start somewhere when talking to this man. – I'm the Hivi commander. Do you know about us?

The elevator operator was quite neatly dressed; his work clothes were clean, straight, and well-groomed. It looked as if he loved his work, his clothes, and even his own life. There was nothing terrifying about his eyes, except that the depth of thought coming out of them was a little startling, as if he were very old, though he was clearly in his early twenties. And it was no surprise that his left hand was always in his pants pocket, just as Cobra had warned.

– I know. Everybody here knows a hevy.

– Will you tell me your name? You know mine.

– Name? The name I used to have is gone. A ghost has it. I was once called Kiril. But that name means nothing to me now. It's just a shard of the past.

– Why? Isn't driving an elevator a man's job?

– Ooh, so worthy. That's why the past name doesn't matter      And we don't call it an elevator,

we call it a cage. I don't know if elevators go that far.

– I understand. It's really deep. I thought it was a few hundred meters.

– More than a kilometer. Our mine is one of the deepest in the world.

Raven shuddered a little. He felt as if he were really going down to the devil, with whom he had started a conversation.

– So you're not a lifter, what are you? A lifter?

– Yes, a cagey one. And now the name Cage suits me. As long as the cage lives, I live. As long as I live, the cage lives. It's a very important position in the mine, because there's no other connection to the outside world. We go in and out only through the cage and no other way. And I am very proud to be entrusted with it....

– Is the coal lifted through the cage, too?

– No, it's a skip. It lifts the coal up, and there are no people inside, just coal. It's run by other people, and I'm not even allowed in there.

Raven was a little surprised that this man always answered his questions in some way. If he were in Gora's place, he would have forbidden his subordinates to communicate with any outsiders, not to mention the structure of anything. And given that the prefect was obviously not a simple man, there must have been some sense in not giving such an order among his own people. But there was nothing to be shy about, and it was almost straightforward to ask.

– Didn't you ever want to go to Maquis or someone else like us if you had the chance? Kirill shook his head slightly negatively, pursing his lips slightly:

– No.      There can be no better leader than our prefect. There simply can't be. And I was lucky

enough to be born here to be under his command      You know, Crow, sometimes I can't even

believe it. I could have been born anywhere. In any mine. In any industrial sector. But I was born here. In the Deese sector, where the Prefect himself is from…

A shiver ran through the raven slightly. He tried not to show it, but he was sure it was noticeable. The sight of this man was maddening in a way, his eyes, the way he spoke, and the feeling with which he told it all. In front of him stood a fanatic who had apparently willingly sold his soul to the devil and now marveled at it. Where such a thing could come from, and what should be done to people to make them think like that and even worship their commander, was a mystery. But the worst fears seemed to be justified – these men were ready to bravely give their lives not just on command, but perhaps even begging for that command. Maybe not all of them were like that, but if there were some, it was safe to say that in time they would be the majority, and in a year, if not sooner, there would be no other type of people there.