Андрей Кочетков
The Heavenly Lord’s Ambassador. A Kingdom Like No Other. Book 1

“No, why?” asked Luvia Tokto, glad to finally get a word in. The whole evening had been consumed by talk of palace intrigue, war and dice games.

The red-headed girl with Sorgius also smiled with feigned interest. Inside, she was cursing the carved wooden chair that had already snagged her fox-colored silk wrap two times, causing her great emotional distress.

That was the price that people paid to eat at the famous tavern. First-time visitors to the Fish were at first put off by the simple, even crude furnishings. The chairs and tables were made of heavy, unpainted wood. The candles were cheap and smoked, leaving dark streaks on all the walls. And the floor was non-existent in places, with tables essentially set in uncovered dirt. The place looked shoddier than a flea-bitten local haunt by the river port. To make matters worse, the tables were so crowded that visitors were often on the receiving end of accidental blows by their neighbors’ elbows. No one minded, however, because that neighbor was likely to be a member of the board of the shipbuilders’ guild, there to discuss a transaction, or even a judge from the Heavenly Court, relaxing at sunset with a glass of Firanian fortified wine. For some reason, the imperial elite, more accustomed to cushions filled with the feathers of Siramian swans and blankets of the finest Ulinian silk, had taken a liking to the rough, unsophisticated reality offered by the Sleepy Fish’s trend-conscious owner.

“When Manum Yalik just opened this place,” Sorgius continued, “he was married to a Mustobrim woman. Her name was…” he screwed up his eyes. “I don’t remember, and it doesn’t matter anyway. So this wife was cold and unsocial, which made it difficult for her to serve guests. People were waiting for ages for their food and cursing the service. ‘Where’s my ragout?’”

“Where’s my fish!” Vordius joked.

“Exactly. ‘Where’s my fish!’ And his wife just ignored it all, carrying trays of food with this blank look on her face. That’s why her husband started calling her his sleepy fish. People started saying ‘Where are you going for dinner?’ ‘To the sleepy fish.’ That’s how the place got its name.”

“I thought that Mustobrim women were hot and spicy,” said Vordius, casting a glance at his girlfriend.

“How do you know so much about Mustobrim women?” Luvia asked him in a quiet, serious voice.”

“Oh, that’s a common misperception by people who have only heard rumors of the fair ladies of Mustobrim,” said Sorgius, stepping in to keep his friend from teasing Luvia too much. “Southerners’ blood is hotter than ours, but you can’t imagine what their religion does to them!”

“I see you can imagine it,” smiled Uni. He felt strange in his new robe, but his mother had insisted on buying it. His objections that he already had a new robe that he had purchased for the trip to Virilan were struck down because, as his mother reminded him, he might stain it at his party and then he would have nothing clean to wear.

“Maybe I haven’t read as many books as you, Little Uni, but I have personal experience that tells me there’s nothing worse than trying to restrain our natural instincts with fasts, vigils, prayers, mortification of the flesh and other unnatural obstacles. Strict rules don’t do anything but make a person angry. And when they see how everyone else lives, all they can think about is how to ruin their lives for them.”

Uni looked skeptical. “How many Mustobrims have you met in your young life?”

“Enough. Believe me!”

“I know they believe in an invisible god,” Uni smiled. “Their god has no face, but they believe he can be found in everything. Not just people, but in their actions.”

“Sounds like a hard life,” sighed Sorgius’ red-headed companion. “If we feel like sinning, all we have to do is hide from the eye of the Heavenly Deity and it’s like the sin never happened. Are you saying that in Mustobrim they can’t hide anywhere? How do they manage like that? If it was me…”

It’s a good thing we didn’t get together at the Trout, Uni thought to himself as he stole a glance at the girl’s pretty face. Mother wouldn’t put up with this for long.

“I know how they live,” Dag Vandey broke in. “One man and one woman stay together their entire lives.”

“That sounds terrible!” the red-head exclaimed. She looked at Luvia for support, but the younger woman frowned and leaned closer to her fiancé.

“Friends, let us raise another toast to Vordius and Luvia!” Sorgius felt obliged to iron out the uncomfortable situation that he had caused. The happy couple seemed to bloom at his words. There was a wide grin on Vordius’ kind face, he straightened his shoulders and shook his dark curls. Luvia was glowing from within as if a spark of joy was burning its way through the charming modesty that was so unusual in those permissive times.

“Dear friends!” Sorgius said as he rose from his seat, accidentally elbowing the noble sitting behind him in the back. The back shrugged and turned in annoyance, but it was ignored completely. “My dears!” Sorgius was having trouble finding the words he needed. “All of you know me to be an idle good-for nothing and a highly irresponsible person,” he continued, winking as if letting them in on a joke.

Vordius, seated next to him, raised a fist and tapped his chin to indicate just how much his friend had had to drink. Uni snickered.

“And yet,” Sorgius went on, finding his rhythm, “you have been my only true friends, ever since we met seventeen years ago. You are the only friends who don’t want anything from me. You’ve put up with my antics, and I have to admit that I haven’t always measured up to your kindness. And now, when you, Vordius, are just about to start a new phase in your life, I want to wish you and Luvia the one thing that life isn’t worth living without. I wish you happiness. Just happiness. Everything else will work itself out. I love both of you! Let me kiss you!” Sorgius leaned over the table, dipping his robe in the octopus dish in front of him, but Vordius’ powerful arms lifted him from the sea monster’s hold and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

Wine flowed like a river, and it had the important job of preparing the guests’ stomachs for the final attack by the forces gathering in the chef’s kingdom beyond the curtain. But the Fish had a commendable wine cellar, second only to the cellar at the Dwarf’s Cave, which had no real menu, just drinks. Aromatic Elisian wine, with a floral bouquet that exploded in the nose and carried the connoisseur to an exalted state of beatitude, was followed by sweet Firanian wine, which was delicious enough to drink by the pitcher but threatened an awful headache in the morning. Next came tannic Artishan wine, refreshing on a hot day, followed by Bouquet of Vuravia, a twenty-year reserve that was too tart to drink by the glass but charming when taken a drop at a time on the tongue. The wine was accompanied by toasts, of course, and Uni soon commanded the attention of his friends, who had been occupied until then by expressing their well-wishes for the happy couple.

“To the rising star of imperial diplomacy!” Sorgius thrust his cup energetically at Uni, who was saved from a collision by all the other cups that rose to meet it.

“Thank you, friends,” said the modest archivist, who had been starting to think he was forgotten. Now, sitting in the spotlight made him shy.

Vordius slapped him on the back with a loving grin. “I never thought you’d escape your dusty basement, but here you are!” He looked around the table. “Our Uni, he didn’t just get out, he flew out like a hawk. They’ll never stop him now!”

“Virilan. Not bad at all,” spoke up the serious Vandey. “Do you have a strong protector at court?”

“I know exactly who his protector is,” drawled Sorgius, grimacing at the distorted reflection in his glass of wine. “I heard that Manelius Ronko went to great lengths to get his favorite archivist put on the delegation. Although, with a country like Virilan, it’s hard to know whether or not he did you a favor,” and he winked at his friend.

Uni was terribly uncomfortable. “That’s enough. I want to make one thing clear: I had no idea he would get me put on the delegation. But in truth, I suppose he had no choice.”

“How’s that?” laughed Sorgius.

It’s obvious. Virilan is the most isolated country in the world. Except, perhaps, for the Land of Wizards, but the Mustobrims travel there all the time, so Virilan truly is the most isolated place. And Virilans are exceedingly wary of outsiders. They don’t believe we are actually human, and they avoid us at all costs. As a result, I’m one of the only two currently living persons in the Empire who knows how to speak Virilan, at least to an extent.”

“Bravo! Bravo!” Sorgius clapped his hands. “Let’s drink to Uni and his studious nature, the very same studious nature that has finally landed him in the great big world!”

“Idiot! You didn’t hear a word I said.”

“I am all ears.” Sorgius hiccupped. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“There is. I barely know Manelius Ronko. He often visits the archive, and I’ve helped him find information on various topics. He’s an interesting man and a good conversationalist. But I never asked for his help, and the place on the delegation was a complete surprise. But it’s logical when you think about it.”

Dag Vandey shook himself from his musing. “Ronko is exceedingly interesting. I still don’t know exactly what his post involves.”

Here, Luvia spoke up. “My father says Ronko is only interested in two things: writing poetry and the beautiful women he writes it for!”

Vordius threw his head back and laughed. “If I remember correctly, my love, your father used choicer language when he said it.”

“Remember that business with the Torgendamian princess?” snorted Sorgius. “There was no poetry involved, and he won her in battle. I heard she jumped from the castle wall after he dishonored her.”

“I don’t know about that,” his fair companion said in a doubtful tone, “but it’s true that Ronko knows how to court a woman in style!” She threw Sorgius a skeptical look.

“Nonsense,” he snapped. “And how would you know?”

“Oh, I know a great deal,” the girl replied airily.

“Listen, Sorgius,” said Dag Vandey. “You know all the latest palace gossip. Do you really think Ronko carries weight with the Emperor?”

Sorgius put his glass down. “Seriously? His official position is called ‘advisor to the Heavenly Throne’. Today, that’s a post that is respected but doesn’t pay much. If I wanted to retire someone without hurting his feelings, that’s where I’d put him.”

“He isn’t old enough for retirement.”

“No, especially if what the ladies seem to know about him is true. I’ve also heard that he is absolutely fantastically rich.”

“Is that true?” Sorgius’ red-headed companion was suddenly attentive.

“Yes. And it isn’t the kind of wealth you would ever notice. People say that he eats in dirty, cheap taverns on the other side of the river port and wears the same robes for years, but his close friends know him to be a collector of antiques and rare manuscripts – only originals – that he buys for insane prices. He has two homes in Enteveria. One of them is an average house with average furnishings, but the other is a museum filled with treasures that would look well in the Emperor’s palace.”

“Why hasn’t he been robbed yet?” Vordius wondered aloud.

Sorgius grinned. “No one has ever tried. They say he has close friends in the criminal world. But those are just rumors.”

“My father once told me that Ronko was on friendly terms with the Emperor’s father,” Luvia said. “The old emperor respected him and valued his advice. It had something to do with reforming the imperial postal service.”

Sorgius was struck by an idea. “The imperial postal service. Of course! That must have been his gold mine. The postal service can transport anything you wish from one end of the empire to the other without any inspections or customs fees. That explains a lot…”

“You always turn the talk back to money,” said Vandey, making a wry face. “There’s more than that to the imperial postal service…”

“Enough!” Uni begged, looking pained. “I didn’t come here to discuss rumors and gossip about the people I work with. Let’s talk about something else!”

Sorgius grimaced, but after both women spoke warmly in favor of Ronko, he put an arm around his companion and proposed a hasty toast.

Uni sat back in his seat. There wasn’t enough air in the room. He wondered how all those people could sit there for hours. His forehead was sweaty. Suddenly, he lurched to one side, barely managing to hold onto the table to keep from falling.

“Looks like the little boy’s had enough,” he heard Sorgius’ voice somewhere in the distance.

“Air! I need air!” He leaned heavily against the table, one hand resting in the bread plate. A piece of bread went skittering across the table and fell over the edge onto the floor.

“There’s a balcony on the other side of the room where you can watch the sunset,” Sorgius’ girlfriend chirped.

Vandey stood up heavily. “I’ll walk you there.”

Uni felt like laughing when he saw the serious mask on his friend’s face. Dag was handsome and well-built, and he seemed taller than he actually was, but his narrow chin, thin lips and round, gray eyes clashed with the heroic image he cultivated in public.

The balcony was actually a rickety wooden overhang with a railing. It looked out over the deep ravine that separated the elite Trikazinso neighborhood from the Street of Plenty, which wandered off into the slums behind the northern river port. When the ancient capital had been expanded to meet the needs of the Herandian empire, which held sway over one-third of the continent, imperial architects had bemoaned the ravine as an inconvenient gash that interrupted Enteveria’s neatly laid-out city blocks. The most radical among them had proposed filling in the ravine, but in four hundred years no one had come up with funding for the project. The great emperor Norius could, of course, have decided the matter once and for all, but he listened to the words of his beloved Ovalio, who lobbied for the interests of the birds that made the ravine their home. Because of her efforts, when Uni and Vandey made their way out onto the balcony they were presented with a view of greenery, the smell of fresh grass, the sound of cicadas, and the warm rays of the summer sun.

“Is that better? Take a couple of deep breaths and your head will stop spinning.”

“I hope so.” Uni felt a bit better as the warm evening breeze cooled the sweat on his forehead. He leaned on the thin wooden railing, closed his eyes, and let the last breath of day enter his lungs.”

His friend was indifferent to the beauty surrounding them. After hesitating for form’s sake and waiting for a pair of lovers to leave the balcony, Dag Vandey cleared his throat. “You’re leaving soon. I wanted to ask you, have you thought any more about what we spoke of?”

“My friend, I haven’t had a chance to think about it at all,” Uni said tiredly. A week earlier, Vandey had visited him at the archive and brought him a book that he called “an explanation of all the things we’ve discussed.”

“I know you’re busy preparing for your trip, but I always thought you cared about the fate of our own land.”

Uni rubbed his eyes. “I’ve always distanced myself from politics. Do you want to know why? Because I know my limits. If you want to have influence, you have to have money, rank, and connections. What’s the point of talking about politics? You can write intelligent books and people will read them in secret as a form of entertainment. But then they’ll turn around and praise His Heavenly Majesty just like people have always done. And it’s not because they are weak or hypocritical. That’s just the natural order of things. People crave stability, order, and harmony.”

“Calling the current state of affairs in our empire the ‘natural order’ is the same as calling it harmonious for a cannibal to eat people!” Vandey grew lively at the chance to engage in competitive rhetoric. “Do you even see the difference between the mandates the Emperor announces and how people really live? You’ve never once left the capital, have you? Believe me, the city is like a leech, sucking the life-blood out of the countryside.”

“Like a leech? That sounds like the grumbling of provincials, nothing more. Vandey, you’re a good man, but you are too trusting. I know you’re proud that you’ve travelled around half the empire while I’ve been sitting in the archive. You’ve lived with peasant families and seen them work sunup to sundown. I don’t have that kind of experience, but that’s what books are for. They transmit the experiences of past generations.”

Vandey looked away. “What do your books tell you?”

“A lot. But the most important thing I’ve learned is that anything you see today can also be found in the past. Why waste time and trouble to reach the same conclusions that our own forefathers reached and set out for us on paper? Why invent the wheel, if the whole world is already driving fast carriages?”

“I don’t see what you mean.”

“I mean that your ‘struggle,’ as you call it, targets vices that have always been with us. They’re incurable. I agree that lots of people have hard lives. You’re right: one man can have a collection of diamonds that rivals Mount Erameo, while ten thousand other men have debts that stretch to the underworld and back. I hope this isn’t a surprise to you, but it was always like that. Always and everywhere. It’s never going to change. The harder you struggle against it, the faster the poor get poorer and the rich get richer. You know how the peasants live first-hand, but I’ve read all about it in books. I know what I’m talking about.”

“You’ve read about it? Perhaps…” and Vandey’s voice took on a hostile tone, “your memory isn’t as good as you think it is. Do I have to remind you how our Empire was born?”

“The Empire came into existence following the same laws as all other empires that came before it. First, you have lots of small kingdoms that are constantly at war with each other. Weakened and distracted by fighting, they fail to notice a neighbor on the periphery. That neighbor gathers its strength and eyes their riches. Once it’s strong enough, it starts taking over their land, but in little pieces at a time. Once the kingdoms realize the threat, it’s too late. In one final attempt to save themselves, the former enemies band together against the upstart. But,” Uni raised a finger, “the old conflicts and the kings’ vanity are stronger than their sense of the obvious danger. They are defeated and taken prisoner, and a new, unified power rises up on the bones of the vanquished, who really should have known better.”

“That’s only part of the truth. The old empires were created by military might and held together by the weapons that united them. When those weapons lose their shine and the hands that hold them become soft, someone always appeared to challenge them. People don’t enjoy living in slavery. Can we at least agree on that?”

“They don’t enjoy it? I’ll argue with that. Slaves may be deprived of certain pleasures in life, but they are also free of the freedom of choice that torments their masters. And they bear no responsibility for their decisions.”

Vandey nodded. “I agree, most people do not wish to be leaders. They just want to live, raise their children, and enjoy the simple pleasures without which even an emperor is miserable. That’s what they work for. They give their leaders a portion of their harvest because that’s what it takes to be left alone. That’s the basic law underlying any kingdom or empire.”

“Of course. The humble farmer, salt of the earth, foundation of the empire.” Uni laughed.

“Do you find that funny?”

“You’ve just proven me right. If a poor man is prepared to give the nail of one finger to a rich man just because he’s rich, then he must be prepared to give him the whole hand. That’s another basic law, and it’s derived from the one you just stated.”

“People – unlike all the other animals – were given intelligence so that they could make their lives happy and fulfilling. That intelligence eventually leads you to realize that the cathedral of happiness can only be built if we work together to create a world where everyone is happy.” Uni snorted. “Pure fantasy. It sounds good, but it won’t work. History proves it.”

“History proves that the Heavenly Empire was established as a kingdom of justice and given the task of banishing hunger, greed and violence from people’s lives forever!”

“I knew you were a romantic, Vandey, but I didn’t know it had gone that far…”

“And I knew that our learned men had been brainwashed, but I didn’t know it was that bad. I am aware that all of the books that tell the truth about our history have been removed from circulation over the past three hundred years, but you, Uni, worked at the archive. You had the opportunity to read it all.”

“I did read it all. I just have my own point of view on what I read.”

“How can you have a point of view on the truth? The truth simply exists. You can’t dispute it.” Vandey turned to his friend. His gray eyes were full of light. “The Sun grants its heavenly light to all – the water, the earth, the forests and plants, the serpents, birds, and wild animals. Most importantly, the Sun shines its rays on man, so that he can live according to its will. Man or woman, adult or child, with skin of all colors, the rich man with thousands of ferns of land or the pauper: all greet the dawn with joy and praise the lord that gave them life and displays such generosity to each of them. And just as we all live under one Sun as its worshipful children, may we all live in our united kingdom with food and peace for all. Just as the Heavenly Deity withholds its generosity from no one, giving to each according to his need, so I, your new emperor, will take tender care of each of my new subjects. Instead of war and hunger, the Herandian Empire will bring you peace and happiness. From now on, there will be no rich or poor, but plenty for all in our great land. I will answer for this to the Sun, who is the father and forebear of all living things.”

Uni smiled. “Bravo. I could have guessed that your conspiratorial brotherhood would adopt the Solar Manifesto as its battle cry. Now, I hate to disappoint you, but it was proven two hundred years ago that the manifesto was a fake. Norius never issued a manifesto. Someone came up with that fairy-tale legend after Norius was already dead and gone.”

“You say it’s a fairy-tale? How do you think Herandia managed to unify all the peoples so quickly? Many of them surrendered without a fight and were pardoned. Their fields and other assets were left untouched, and the peasants contributed their hard work as the foundation for the Empire’s golden age.”

“I’m not so sure about that. If you read the history, it’s clear that they respected our power and felt helpless against us.”

“But surely you know that Herandia was not considered the most powerful of the twelve kingdoms. Vuravia had more resources, Ulin had a more advanced culture, Seregad was stronger. What did the Herandians have?” Vandey warmed to his theme. “What we had weighed less than a swan’s feather, but it changed the course of history in our favor. Do you see where I’m going, Uni? It was an idea – the same idea that you call a fairy-tale. It may have sounded like a fairy-tale, but it was up to humans to make it a reality. One thousand years of unending war. Destruction and starvation. Untold wealth in the hands of a small circle of powerful people who were terrified of losing it all. People were tired of it. They wanted just two things: peace, and a society where they wouldn’t have to fight for their bread every day. Uni, the Heavenly Empire is not a country, or an army, or government ministers with beautiful chanceries. It’s an idea about how we can live in harmony with each other according to the laws of the Heavenly Deity, in a kingdom of peace, justice and brotherly love!”

“I don’t see why you’re upset. Aren’t we already living according to the ancient commandments? Hasn’t the Empire maintained peace for four hundred years? Of course, there have been wars with outsiders, attacks by barbarians and uprisings in some of the provinces, but surely you wouldn’t compare any of that to the chaos that existed before the Empire?”

“Peace? If by peace you mean that our lands are not being taken away from us by an invader. But who owns the land? Free peasants are the Empire’s poorest and most defenseless subjects. The Heavenly Throne sucks them dry with its taxes, so they mortgage their land to richer men. They may not be slaves, but they live worse than slaves. Slaves are fed by their masters, but the peasant knows that his crops are mortgaged for years in advance. Of course he’s free: free to die of hunger! In the end, he sells himself to avoid that very freedom. He can’t be called a slave because our laws prohibit it, so he’s called a ‘voluntary worker’ who does his work ‘for the good of society.’ Except that the only ones who benefit are society’s richest members. Just now, I watched you put a piece of paper-thin meat on your tongue and let it melt in your mouth. I suppose you didn’t consider how many children died of starvation while we enjoyed our meal. You’ve driven people to slavery, in form if not in name, and that makes your power a thousand times worse. Our rulers are low, rotten, and deserving of their own obliteration!”

Uni shook his head. “Calm down. I don’t see why you’re so upset.”

“I will not calm down. I have to tell you these things while I still have a chance. You call your power ‘Heavenly grace,’ but it has nothing at all in common with the commandments of Norius the Founder. You say the Manifesto was a fake? I say you’re lying! It’s no accident that there aren’t any copies of it left, even in the imperial archive. They wanted to destroy the original, but they haven’t been able to find it. There are rumors that it’s held in a private collection. My friends and I will find it, and then the people will follow us. Peace? No, we don’t need a peace like this. We would rather have war, cruel and relentless, that will sweep away the parasites that have grown up around the throne! We will restore the Heavenly Empire the way Norius wanted it to be, the way our ancestors dreamed it would be!”

“Dag, my friend, I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” Uni said. He suddenly realized that he was not reacting to his friend’s words the way he ought to.

The fresh air on the balcony refreshed him, and the vast expanse of greenery seemed to call him to the shores of some unknown country. Only now did Uni begin to feel the difference between the narrow world he had always inhabited and the fantastic opportunities that had suddenly landed in his lap.

He turned back to his friend. “Don’t be offended, Dag. You see, it’s only my body that is here in Herandia. My heart is already there, over the seas. Just imagine that you’ve spent years studying what seems like nonsense – at least that’s what everyone would have me believe – when suddenly the laughter stops and you fly from the archive basement like a bird, rising to the Sun! I’m going to see with my own eyes the land that I’ve learned about in old manuscripts! It’s a fairy-tale. A miracle! I feel like someone hit me in the head with a log. Even without wine, I’m drunker than ten thousand sailors!”

Vandey scowled and looked away. When he turned back, there was an unpleasant smile on his face. “You’re such a child, Uni! I’ll wait until you return from your trip. We can talk again then. You’ll see the world outside of your archive, and maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.” He patted his friend on the shoulder and led him back inside to the world of idle merriment that he so despised.

When they returned to the table, the political philosophers found their friends deep in their cups and very far from such matters as universal brotherhood and justice. Uni and Vandey discovered they had made a fatal mistake during their fervent discussion: they had missed the main course, which was the whole reason for coming to the Sleepy Fish. Neither of them showed much disappointment, however. Vandey no longer made any attempt to disguise his revulsion at the immoderate feasting, and Uni suddenly felt that his stomach could not take any more contributions that evening, even those of the most elegant variety. He poked his fork at the marinated eels that encircled a giant egg made of Ulinian rice before resting his chin on his hand and observing his friends, who displayed much greater enthusiasm as they devoured the delicacies placed before them. Sorgius was handing around some kind of long, green leaves stuffed with a sticky, white substance.

“Try it, my dear. I’m sure you’ll like it,” he said as he handed one of those mystery tubes to his companion. The young woman gingerly took the leaf and tried a tiny bite. Sorgius gleefully mimicked her movements, turning them into something that looked much more intimate. Not bothered a bit by the humor, his girlfriend ate half of the strange leafy tube.

“What are these things, anyway?” asked Vordius as he ate his third one.

“My friend, this is the most elegant dish of the season, a combination of the culinary traditions of two sworn enemies: the Unguru and the Arincils.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense. I’m not interested in geography, and I suspect there’s something not quite right here.”

“Oh no, it’s all quite right. What you’re eating is a pâté made from the heart of a newborn lacrobus mixed with the milk of makabu caterpillars and all wrapped in grape leaves. The leaves are domestic, however, because the leaves called for in the original recipe would cause gastric distress among the people of our Empire.”

Sorgius’ explanation was cut short by an unexpected protest from Luvia, whose gentle nature could not bear the thought of violence against an adorable animal.

“The poor lacrobus! They’re so sweet and helpless – how could anyone possibly kill one!”