Ibhib, the gunner of Longville, roused me from the lair.

A week's worth of weather swept through the catacombs of Beauburg. He asked about me left and right. He got into trouble by messing around with some bat-men. He groped them and drank their blood.

Pehlivanul!

Then he lingered on the banks of the underground river and frolicked with that mermaid from Oache, Brunhila. He bit her tits and put her in hell and she screamed in one of the cracked vaults of the galleries where the dead roamed. Jean Limbosu had learned her trade, I can swear.

Of course I followed the gunner with my monitors. I didn't trust scumbags like him. Not much had changed. It was as if his belly had grown. It was as if there was a mist over his eyes. But his scales shone like in the good old days and his wrists worked hard.

As I heard him rattling his beasts, I quickly touched the torches. I stopped the engines. I got my chest off my chest. I lay in wait.

- Stand still! I shouted menacingly, readying my bullets.

Ibhib grinned, revealing his silver anklets, croaked I don't know what. I didn't believe him. His nostrils flared, his chest heaved. He was rolling his eyes rapidly. It was as if he had something on his mind. The bear! His shoulder cracked and the mouth of a cannon came out.

What am I waiting for?!

I fired a volley. The walls shook. The rumble rolled to the surface, disappearing through the hollow streets of Beauburg. And the gunner?

Ha, ha, ha! His bastard mother!

That picture of him made me very happy. He caught the leads between his silver hooves and spat them right into my crotch, I held out my hairy paw, and Ibhib burst out of the darkness and scooped me up in his arms, roaring with joy.

My bones cracked. It was green, the naked man!

- Bazaar! Didn't you catch mold on those? Ibhib asked me, smacking his fleshy lips full of saliva.

- What about you, monkey?!

"I went to Trafalgar!"

— Aha!

- I pulled a box for many days!

- Stop gargling! Tell me what wind brings you. What's wrong?

- Well, how are you with the yellow ones?! he snapped, scratching his flapper ear.

- I don't have one!

— Aha!

"Do you have a job for me?"

"I have, you naked boy!"

- Give it a go. I'm dying of curiosity, I said quickly, taking a puff of gunpowder juice.

— Moreaugarin sent me word. The man has a lot of work to do. Have you heard of old light diamonds?!

- I heard something, something, I lied without blinking.

— Moreaugarin says they would have some pilgrims coming from beyond the cosmic horizon!

- He also told me a story, I lied again, my voice not shaking.

— Old story, ma, Bazar. Pilgrims are sound beings born from the primal sound of the Universe. One fine day they stole the Ideal Valurit Citadel of the people. They took her away. They walked her through the whole Universe until the diamonds of old light began to fade. So the pilgrims turned back from the road. They raised the fortress on Venus, and the diamonds began to sparkle again. Only the Venusian civilization was destroyed by treachery, perjury and murder. The Venusians did not resist the temptation. They wanted to become immortal and fought to the death for the ancient light diamonds. They rejected their faith. They stoned their priests and left their places of worship in ruins. The pilgrims deceived them in every way and drove them to war with each other.

- And the pilgrims?!

"They changed their plans." They went down through the wormholes and tried to build their fortress on Terraria.

— Imperfect copy of Earth?!

- As you say.

- They did it? I asked out of curiosity.

- Not. The planet's gravitational field was unstable. The settlements were constantly changing their geographical position due to very strong temporal eddies. A lot of trash thrown from Earth was ending up on the terrarian beaches. From that stinking amalgam were born all kinds of impossible beings that were constantly changing the entropy index of the planet!

— Gunner, he's driving me nuts!

- Wait! Finish now! The pilgrims…

"I'm coming to Earth!"

"That's bullshit, Bazar!" On earth. The diamonds of old light will be at our nose!

- And we're going to put a paw on them, gunner!

- You caught yourself!

— Yes, you trust Moreaugarin?!

- I thought.

— I say let's go on his hand and then let's make him a party until he's short of a scrap!

I went with him. What did I have to lose? And Totora, the circus, and Gargarelli, the philosopher, and Plotor, the butcher of Venus, and Vlasko, the trumpeter, and Brulla, the one with the talking parrot, came.
Great joy. We got our whole band together. Then, at dawn, I started for Moreaugarin. At the edge of the ocean he was waiting for us, in an abandoned castle, on the edge of Adamville. We were quite hungry when we arrived. May, may we break the gates of Moreaugarin.

Scoundrel! He behaved well with us. He was gentle as a lamb. Sweet talk. In the eyes, honey. Tricks. Baliverne.

He gave us a speech. His tongue was stuck. He was perched on a rickety machine of his. It was blowing clouds of soot. You couldn't know what it was. Scarab? Mechanical octopus? Demon of plastic, glass and steel? A chimera?!

The machine had glowing red orbs. Silver rods full of spikes. Multicolored prisms so you can read the past, present and future in them. A huge Fulton dynamo. Inflatable tubing, winding. Fireballs. A one-ton piston. A German traffic light. A steel ram. Shiny, slippery scaffolding. The giddy bird. Cellophane snakes and rippling holograms. Organic piles from which all kinds of fiends were born. A clairvoyance-clairvoyance pyramid with blue lightning shooting out of it. A rusty launch pad.

A Mettrycks supercomputer. And a bottle of Van der Wraff.

Moreaugarin kept pacing the bridge, shaking his silver mane, swinging his lilac trumpets, blowing puffs of smoke, and shouting madly:

"Welcome, my tigers!" My lions! My brave fighters! I heard you covered yourself in glory at Trafalgar! Well done, tigers! You have fought the same dark forces I have been at war with for a quarter of a century! They want to snatch my Original Secret! We won't let them!

- Now! Now! Now!

— That's how I want you, tigers! We will clean up! We will reorganize the entire Universe! Bloating? The spit? The winds! The vomit! We will put them through fire and pear! We will save the spirit, tigers!

— Uraaa!

— We will liberate the Ideal Citadel and reinstate the pure spirit within its walls! We will polish the diamonds of old light, so that their sparkle will revive the spirit!

His words were beautiful. Truly uplifting. But we wanted to know what was our part. Otherwise, well-crafted words, but not for us.

I told him from Moreaugarin's face. He got angry. He made us with egg and vinegar. He shouted at us angrily:

"Don't let me down, tigers!" You are the flower of star wars! You are my knights!

Well, enough said, gentlemen. Ah, some battle-hardened soldiers, yes, I was. We kept our weapons well hidden in our bodies. You would have said that we are such angels. Ordinary passers-by. And we? Fierce of the fierce. Hard times. Downright scary.

— Listen, Moreaugarin, you say we're going to start a crusade, don't you?! Yes, what about the old light diamonds?! Brulla, the one with the talking parrot, half asked.

— Aaaah! Tiger! Immortality drains your chest! You'll be immortal.. We'll fight forever! I promise you! We will be the masters of the Universe! We will be the principle of one that multiplies, we will be the Mandhala, we will be the philosophical egg!

"Don't light up, Moreaugarin," cried Ibhib, the gunner of Longville, jumping from one foot to the other. We want to know our part. The sound of yellow, we love that one!

— That's the word! What do we gain if we butcher the pilgrim tricksters to the hilt?! I asked, wanting to get down to business, not stand aside.

- Oh! How did the Universe drip a spark of spirit into a scrap like you, Bazar! roared Moreaugarin, grabbing my leg gently. Look at you! Poor thing! You're full of pus inside! Full of bugs! We will cauterize you! I'll burn you red-hot, soldier! Do you want yellow? I'll give you yellow! Do you want women? You will have plenty! Dangerous weapons? You will have the most dangerous weapons in the Universe! But the glory, Bazar?! Glory? We will liberate the Ideal City! And we will cover ourselves in glory! We will open its doors and cover ourselves in glory! On your knees, tigers!

We all fell in the dust, ashamed. Moreaugarin pressed a pedal of his own and shot a green, green beam through the air. The air sizzled, turned into a rainbow.

Look, that's how Moreaugarin impressed us!

I was in his power. I had no escape. He could have choked us. It could have cracked our shell'. To sip our vital fluid. To change our spirit'. Ready, ready to crush our chest, feel our heart, make it sing by gently pressing it with a fingernail.

He would have been able, the madman!

And we? We were enchanted. We had fallen into the trap. I had no escape in any way.

We climbed on the deck of his machine and started to roam the Universe far and wide until we reached the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. In the Horn of Africa I sank some pirates' ships and hacked a pack of squid that had been doing their business there for a hundred or so years. We stocked up in Gibraltar and messed around with some hot, busty breams. We lied to the world that we were going bottle-whale fishing in the far North. Who will take our word for it?!

The Americans, the Russians and the Patagonians had smelled something. Even the Genoese had gotten involved. And the Aryans well hidden in the Brazilian jungle, and some from Tibet. They sent their secret agents after us. They had weapons hidden in their pockets and they were bribing all the Bosketari to tell them some secret, something.

We were followed by a squadron of ghost planes, a nuclear submarine and a balloon full of infantrymen. They targeted us from a military satellite and planted a bacteria to infect our membranes and leave us without ears.

Poor people!

I laughed in their faces. We cracked our chests and brought out our heavy artillery, and Moreaugarin swept them all with his green ray.

An octopus came from Terraria in search of food and a horde of saraban dancers who hated the good got in our way, we impaled them and roasted their young, and the octopus I cut slices, slices, I threw it into the pots and drunk it in the evenings, sprinkling it liberally with gunpowder juice.

- Hey, is there anything in sight?! Moreaugarin called us from morning until evening, not letting us leave the cage at all.

— Deserted waters!

— Vine anaphora!

— Watch out for the artimon!

- Drive the lane!

"Hold on to these, Plotooor!"

"Draw the sail, soldier!"

— Hello!

- Tie the sari'!

- Drop the probe!

- Hold on!

— The tachet came!

Look, I was roboting on the deck. For a while we sailed without coals trying to save them for the big fight. The baskets were shining in the sun and waiting, the fools, to blush, puff, puff, puff.

- A boat! shouted Vlasko, the trumpeter, one day, as if out of his mind.

We huddled at the steel parapet. I scanned the expanses. I shouted to the engineers to stop the wind that was pouring out of the bow tubes, swelling our sails.

- A heavenly sign, Moreaugarin told us, sweeping the waters with his green ray.

"A monk!" cried Plotor the butcher, bursting into tears like a child.

The monk was barely breathing. He had a rough and tangled beard. He hadn't eaten in days. He was carrying a strange rig with him in the boat. I studied her silently.

Naufragiatu' told us in a whisper:

— I have roamed the seas and oceans for years, penetrated by a mysterious thought. I want to record the voice of God. I often begged him to say a word to me. One, just. I have records with me and a gramophone. I'm not losing hope. If you will give me some food, I will pray for your crusade, sons!

Come on, I said to myself, the monk has smelled what we are wearing. But how?! Life in the wilderness of waters must have taught him to read the souls of beings?!

We talked. I mentioned it. He ate with gusto. He showed us how his rig worked. So and beyond. He was giving her a bath. My crusaders, dude! Even Moreaugarin was speechless as if he had made a fool of himself. Călugăraşu kept giving it to him before he played us a waltz, a tango or a conga. Let's clear our dark foreheads of warlike thoughts. But how could my monk have known that we had weapons in our bodies, buried deep, far from the light of the eye.

- We are tired and broken, I interjected, looking the monk straight in the eyes. Let's leave it for tomorrow evening, too pious! How about a soft bed made of seaweed and sea flowers?!

He became a monk. They glazed over his eyes. He muttered something under his breath. Leave it, I had no sleep anyway..

I felt it around midnight. He slipped on deck in the moonlight. He went to the stern. He's been messing around there. I was only eyes and ears. I saw him take out the gramophone and choose a silver one from among the plates. It wasn't a record player, you see! No facility to record the Lord's voice! I sprang like a cat from my seat, between the barrels of olive oil. My naked ones were asleep. Moreaugarin's snoring could be heard even beyond the Arctic Circle.

"Holy mother, didn't sleep catch you in its claws?"

"Ah, it was you, boy?" whispered my chastened monk. I went out on deck. I thought I heard a voice. Maybe it's God, I thought. He took pity on me!

— It's a song of whales, my dear.

— Aha!

- Whales, more than likely.

— Mysterious work this song of theirs, son!

"That's right, you pious girl," I growled, feeling my chest. And what monastery did you say you were in?! Maybe on Ascabia...

I didn't get to finish my words. Călugărașu' put the silver plate in his weapon and an angelic music poured out over the waters. I felt the blood rush to my nose and mouth. I fell flat on the deck. How about rolling in the waves. The sounds had turned into poison darts. My hooves, face and hairy paw were bleeding.

I got up with difficulty. My crotch was swollen, ready, ready to fuck me. I threw myself forward. I cracked open my chest and fired a volley of murderous bullets.

"Traitor!" shouted Ibhib, the gunner, rushing onto the deck in unison.

- The pirates! roared Gargarelli, philosopher, hurling fiery staffs through the air.

- Enemy, dude! roared Plotor tearing through everything around him with his steel claws.

No trace of a monk. Moreaugarin hugged me. He set up a ceremony. His falkers played the trombone and drums. Moreaugarin decorated me. A medal made from the pages of a detective novel that I knew by heart stuck to my chest. He kissed me on the cheeks. He promoted me. He made me a rear admiral.

Late at night, smoking cigars like slobs, I sat at the rigging. The naked men snored. Luna had raised her legs to her head. A warm breeze blows.

Moreaugarin mi-a zis:

— Rear Admiral, do you believe in this crusade?!

— …?

"Can't you feel the old light diamonds burning your insides already?!" Feeling the glow of the Ideal Fortress? Did not your soul yearn for the old light, from the beginning of the Universe? How will you feel when millions of people rush through the open gates, crying with happiness that they have found each other?!

I didn't say anything. We are sailing through troubled waters. Perhaps already the pilgrims, guarded by the monk, had raised bubbling craters and fiery asteroids on the walls, to crush us, to throw us into the sidereal hell!

"What are you going to do with your diamond?" scolded Moreaugarin, flicking the lilacs from his silver cigar. Will you swallow it to become immortal? Don't you think it's vanity? What will you do with immortality? How many wars are you going to rub your skin through?! Is there any point? Isn't it more intoxicating to live only once? To burn like a torch-in the blink of an eye?!

The parsimonious!

How he was trying to take me away with sugar. How he kept digging through my soul. I could feel where it was beating. I could see what his work was! He wanted me to give him my diamond. Hulpavnic!

He laughed in my nose:

"And why wouldn't I be immortal too?"

- Do you want to get bored, Bazar?! Immortality is for the chosen spirits! They have to become the principle of one that multiplies! Would you like to be not flesh and blood soldiers, but a principle that orders the Universe in the Great Game? Do you want to marry the Absolute to the detriment of the flesh?!

"And then?"

- Sell it, Bazar! I'm buying it!

Hear the pramia! How he was embarassing me! It was not in Moreaugarin's mind to liberate the Ideal Valurit Citadel for humans, as he had lied to us before, scoundrel!

I crushed the cigar under my boot and went to bed. I puzzled all night. I had no sleep. I dreamed of bazacons.

At dawn we adjusted our watches. I made a leap in time. We rattled our armor. We lined up on the deck. I knelt down. We made the sign of the cross. We prepared for battle.

Ibhib, gunner, pulled me aside. He showed me a doldora bag of yellows. He whispered to me:

"Bazaar, boy!" Fuck immortality! what do you care Look, we sold our share to Moreaugarin. What are you doing? Look what a mess I got myself into!

I pulled one over the back of his head. I bit his ears, he was flapping. How parsimonious, gunner. Ready, ready to sell me from the beginning to Moreaugarin.

- I could see, gunner!

Heavy mists descended on the deck. A stream of fire poured down upon us. Rotating stars hit us. A steel snake hissed through the air. The pilgrims kept changing their form. Ibhib hit them with the cannon. Vlasko, the trumpeter, butchered them, turning their sounds into bombardments.

Moreaugarin howled, feigning:

— For the Ideal City, forward! That's right, my tigers! Let's free the walls of old light!

How he sneered at her! How he lied!

I saw streams. Roar Groan. The-frozen-waters-began to boil noisily. An iceberg collapsed. The sun is fading. Somewhere, high up, hung a rancid star.

- Hooray! shouted Ibhib, the gunner, following in Moreaugarin's footsteps.

- Them! urges Plotor, the butcher', fooling himself too.

Eventually there was silence. Over the snow-white expanses, a purple smoke floated for a while. Blood flowed from the sky. Fluguri weather for several hours. We huddled at the foot of the Ideal Citadel and cleaned our armor. Some birds of prey peck at the pilgrims' thieves. Moreaugarin perched on a still-hot bombard, wanting to give us another speech. He was still after me now that the fight was over and he had to give me my share, a diamond of old light. Golanoi didn't even care about this country. They were drinking gunpowder juice and singing dirty songs. Moreaugarin cried out in a throaty voice:

— Thank you, tigers! My knights! The Ideal Valurit Fortress will be…

Seeing that no one was listening to him, he let himself down. He pulled out his dagger and began scratching the walls, reverently stroking the diamonds of ancient light. I followed him.

He snapped at me angrily:

- What do you want?!

What did you want? My side, you see. He didn't even want to be heard, he started yelling:

— For years I wanted immortality! I looked for it in the love of a woman! In vain! Agatha was not immortal! Madam Brizard made fun of me! Have you heard of her, soldier?!

- No, I said, blushing a little.

- What do you know? I brought Mandhala! You know why?

"No," I admitted with a thump.

"You're a pretender, Bazar." I met your mother. It was the same! And everyone in Adamville was a pretender! The flower of the spirit?! No way! Some scoundrels! Potlogers! Gargle! Lazy and corrupt! They fanned themselves after vain glory! They cursed the government, but when they got to the ministerial seat they would have ended up on the rocks!

"Do you judge them, Moreaugarin?" Do you have this right to judge people?!

- Fool! You'll never know…

- Do you want to do another experiment, something?! I asked him, feeling my chest.

He's caught, you bastard'. But he laughed out loud. To kill him, he told me. To do it quickly, quickly, he told me.

- Come on, don't get up! You are the beginning and the end!

- Remain silent! Come on, Bazaar! This is your purpose! Shoot, soldier!

- One more word and I'll bully you, I threatened him in vain, taking a step back.

- Courage, Bazar! Do it!

He was playing with me. He wanted to pamper me with his green ray. He wanted to teach the soldiers a lesson. Let someone stop wearing them on Saturdays. To rule them as he pleased.

He shouted to me:

"You can do it!" Come on, the Absolute is waiting for me! I am the principle of one that multiplies!

Behold, cried Moreaugarin!

An eyelid was fluttering. His blood boiled in his veins. He began to pull out the diamonds and gather them with a trembling hand. I rushed over and grabbed one. Moreaugarin burst into tears. He rushed to grab me by the neck. I unleashed a salvo as the expanses shook. Moreaugarin stepped back, wiping the blood from his lips. I closed my eyes and released fistfuls of hot lead.

Moreaugarin collapsed. He writhed for a few moments, drawing blood. It rolled off the deck, reddening the foam of the waves. A blade of wind took him and scattered him among the ice. It broke into thousands of pieces.

As I was walking down the walkway, I spotted one coming out of the sand. He came to me and, speaking in Dodi, said to me as if we had known each other forever:

- Moreaugarin, the sky is red, it will be windy.