Chapter 13 - 13

Then, at the headquarters of the galactic station of the same adjutant, I met a man who surprised me even more: he was a young lieutenant of K.'s regiment, in which he distinguished himself by his beauty and almost feminine shyness and who had gone to the general of the adjutant galactic station to express his disgust and indignation.

So much hatred of the races that exist in that galaxy that, apparently, intrigued against him so that he would not be nominated to fight in the imminent battle.

When he said that it was sordid to behave that way, that it was not comradely behaviours, that he would not forget about it, etc. At the sound of his voice, I could not let myself be convinced that he was not faking it at all.

This being the case, why was he deeply revolted and afflicted because he was not allowed to shoot at the Circassians and put himself under their gunshots; he was in agony like a child who had just been unfairly flogged...

At that time, I did not understand anything at all.

Remarkable, he thought at that time, when I myself would do anything to forget her?

- It depends on the night we have together. - He said.

Lovecraft county

City of Stadt der Düsteren Dunkelheit

They were on their way to their best vacation in the month of April, it was the collective vacation that coincides between the Eid Mubarak party and Labour Day of the following month, when everyone would return only after the 5th of May of that month, when finished and Master Zhang, who is holding an audience in the emperor's palace.

That was a city that lay between a border between Eastern Europe and the Middle East, border between the United Arab Emirates, a part of Asia, as said, the country called Mittelerde.

When the bitter temperature of November, with so much rain in the streets, as if the surface of the earth had just emerged from the waters, and it would not be surprising to find a tyrannosaurus, forty feet long or so, prancing around like a prehistoric lizard, on the top of the hill of Jingshan Zhang, there in the distance had made an expedition of archaeologists who were doing research and excavations.

Even imagining that the smoke that came down from the chimneys, forming a light and dark drizzle, with flakes of soot, as big as big bolls of snow, was mourning put on by the death of the sun, as for its indistinct dogs in the middle of the mud, it was a cold and rainy place.

That place that did not better condition the cars that roamed the busy streets around the huge buildings, around the passers-by, who passed by there, both pedestrians, in which they clashed umbrellas, as if everyone was infected with a bad mood, slipping on street corners, where tens of thousands of other pedestrians were gliding by.

With that, in the midst of the rain, when some were slipping since the day broke (if such a day can break), they added new deposits to the crusts and more crusts of mud, which tenaciously adhered to the pavement at those points, accumulating compound interest.

There followed a fog all over the city above, where it runs between green islets and meadows; fog down the river, it was one of the constructions that followed, where it rolls, when the river and some places were recently cleaned.

There it lay among the rows of boats and the filth of the beaches of a big city (big and filthy, when they went through the fog, in which they came in the swamps from the forests and reserves of Hong Kong, to a series of gorges and mountains of China to the forest reserves of Russia, even though its territory skirted those cities.

Following with a fog in the heights from which they came from outside the city, between the hills, when the fog extended, insinuating itself in the galleys of coal brigs; fog hanging over the shipyards and hanging from the rigging of the great ships; fog falling over the rails of barges and small boats.

With all the fog in the eyes and throats of old Düsterer pensioners Sumpf aus dunklem Nebel , breathing, asthmatics, next to the fireplaces of his wards, adding to this the fog in the mouthpiece and in the afternoon pipe bowl of the choleric captain of an exporting ship, locked in his cabin, due to the export company that came to load the ship between the supplies, it was one of the cargo ships at the pier, in the middle of the thick fog that covered the whole city.

Even if he was cruelly pinching the cabin attendant Zinho's fingers and toes, shivering there in Hanabadilho, even with those indifferent, idle people on the bridges, peering over the parapets at the cloudy sky, all surrounded by fog, as if you were in a balloon, gliding through clouds of mist.

The gas shimmered in the fog at various points along the streets, like the sunlight that farmers and peasants see, flickering on the sodden fields. The lights were turned on in most of the stores two hours earlier than usual, which seems not to have pleased the gas, as it appeared emaciated and ill-disposed.

The foggy afternoon is foggier, the fog denser, and the muddy streets muddier still, near that old lead-topped barrier, fitting ornament for the threshold of an old leaden-headed corporation, called the Temple Golden Sect , even though If it were near Temple Golden Sect , in Shi Huang's Hall, even in the heart of the fog, His Excellency the Lord Chancellor exercises his duties in his High Court of the Mystic Alliance of Justice of the mystic council.

Never could thicker fog descend there, never could deeper mud and slime gather there, to match the category of people, groping and tottering, that that High Court of the Mystic Alliance of Justice, the evillest of grey-haired sinners, judges, on that day, before heaven and earth.

Following on such an afternoon, where if there ever was one like this, His Excellency the Meister der Kameliende should be judging here, yet, it was as it is, they had a halo of fog around their heads, surrounded softly by crimson cloths and curtains, listening to a fat lawyer with big whiskers and a thin voice.

Even if he directs an endless request; and appearing to gaze intensely at the lamp hanging from the ceiling, where nothing but fog can be seen.

As they headed into that rainy afternoon with an extensive fog, in which a few score members of the High Court of the Mystic Alliance of Justice should have been, as they really were — fog in which they were currently engaged in one of the ten thousand stages of an unending cause.

The council of the alliance was gathered in that court between the palaces of justice, understanding that they should have an attitude, even with the decision of the minister in the senate.

Even if they were running over each other with slippery jurisprudence, getting tangled up in procedural subtleties, bumping their heads, protected by goat or horsehair, into the walls of words, and demanding a simulacrum of justice with the serious faces that players can display.

So that was how the various lawyers in the case, two or three of whom had inherited it from their parents, who had been enriched by it, must have been.

So how could they not be?

All were then placed in a row, in a long-matted space (but in vain would you seek the Truth within it), between the red clerk's table and the silk gowns, with

Since they had the warrants there, in addition to the countermandations, interrogations, replies, appeals, certificates, decisions, expert arbitrations, expert reports, mountains of expensive nonsense, piled up in front of them.

If only there weren't other ministers, representatives of the council of dark beings, among the mages gathered there.

Moving on in that gloomy court of the dimension of darkness, like candles burning out here and there, if it weren't for the fog settling thickly inside it, as if it should never leave.

Those who can see the red-glazed windows lose their colour and not let the light of day through; the uninitiated of the streets, who peer through the glass squares of the door, might well refuse to enter, because of its gloomy appearance, that seemed more the land of the dead than the living, although it was the reason for a miasma strong, a dark environment.

Whether or not it was a slow reading, languidly echoing under the ceiling, from the carpeted platform, where His Excellency the Meister der Kamelien contemplates the lightless lamp and where the subordinate judges are all stuck in the thick fog!

That was the so-called High Court of Justice of the Dark dimensions, in which there are dark and ghostly houses, which stood around barren lands in each county.