Chapter 53

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"Do you want to know how Kozlov become feared member of KGB?"

A cold silence filled the car before Po broke it. "Well yeah!" he said excitedly, only to pause as he saw the angry snarl grow on Kozlov's face. Paws up, backing off, the panda looked down, cleared his throat, and gave a little gesture with his paws. "Carry on. Just thought it sounded cool and…"

"It is not," he snorted, before looking around at the car. "I am sure there will be mammals here, more than others, that would wish to have left me to my fate after what I have done. But I suppose that is fate of all old mammals. To be judged by young whose dreams of clean and nice world they have wronged." He let out a sigh before looking off into the distance, recounting his story once more.

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Volegograd, 1971

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Kozlov took a breath in and out as he stepped forward. In some ways, this made what he was planning to do easier. In others…

Teeth worked over each other as he came to a stop in the auditorium of the Palace of Youth and Creativity, built out with the same materials, same seats, same familiar murals as the one he knew like the back of his paw in his hometown. Standing there, amidst a mix of other mammals of different sexes and sizes, he wore his blue trousers and white shirt, red neckerchief hanging around it.

He and all the other last year mammals of his Young Pioneer division, the best in their district. Earning the right to this great privilege, a pilgrimage to the hero city.

He'd worked so hard for this, with all the others.

He could just back off now, couldn't he? Be a good mammal, like the rest of them. Good mammals and good communists, with good behaviour and good loyalty and good working jobs to follow on.

On and on and on.

No need to throw anyone under the bus for any imagined crimes.

Happy with the truth-truth of the world. Just like those in front of him, walking out. Little kits, cubs and calves, years younger and excited, the best in their classes. And for them, the honor of being inducted not just by those at the end of their time in the noble organization, but by great visitors from afar too.

Kozlov and those he were with were lined up in height order, him at one end and a young mouse at the other. 'Cross species interaction to break down false conflict on outdated divisions.' Or, as he silently put it, 'the requirement for him to carry half of the squad members and their luggage everywhere'.

Looking forward, he wondered whether the smiling little moose in front of him would come to that conclusion sooner or later. He could imagine him now, being pestered to use his horns to hang all sorts of things by the smaller mammals along the line. Chances were he'd become cynical just like Kozlov himself. So he wasn't doing anything bad, he was just speeding up the process.

The rattling of a drum rang out and the moose stepped forward, holding his hoof up in a salute, a wide beaming smile on his face. The polar bear wore one back as well. He could give him this. "Pioneer, to fight for the cause of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, be prepared!"

"Be prepared!" he beamed back, trembling slightly. And then, taking a breath in, he began reciting. "I, Nikolai Ukhorog, joining the ranks of the Vladimir Ilyich Lemming All-Union Pioneer Organisation, in the presence of my comrades solemnly promise: to passionately love and cherish my Motherland, to live as the great Lemming bade us to, as the Communist Party teaches us to, as require the laws of the Pioneers of the Soviet Union."

It was a marbled fox vixen his age that started the clapping, jumping to it in a start and carrying on as if she were a rabbit drumming her foot. But more members of her starters quickly began going, as did those in Kozlov's own. The moose could only stumble away giddy, smiling, starting to wave his arms about in excitement at getting it right first time.

"There's a real young pioneer," a ram cheered from Kozlov's side, as the whoops and celebration continued, the moose calf still hopping up and down, unable to contain his excitement. The polar bear himself clapped, slowly, carefully, enough to not raise suspicion but not enough to rub the salt into his own mind.

"Welcome to the big boys' world," he finally said, knowing it was a truth, as well as a truth-truth.

The moose could only cackle a little. "I'm… I'm still a young pioneer," he said, before standing up, saluting. "When I'm an adult even older than you, I'll be the best adult pioneer there is."

"Ah," Kozlov mused, entertaining him. "What? You want to grow up and be a cosmonaut?"

There was a shake of his head. "They only let little mammals do that." For a moment Kozlov was caught between being concerned and correcting the kid for such counterrevolutionary species-determinist thinking, or agreeing with him on understanding something so blatantly obvious and sensible. It didn't matter though as Nikolai carried on. "I'm gonna be a scientist instead. Like Nikolai Medvedleev! I…" He froze, looking on as Kozlov pulled back, blinking.

There was a pause. "Comrade Kozlov? I…"

"That is a very good thing to be," Kozlov said, leaning forward and shaking Nikolai's hoof. "Be a scientist, for the people, inspiring other young mammals. I… -Work hard comrade and I know you can do it."

He stood up, trembling paw giving the young mammal a salute, as the moose gave one back.

And so he watched on as the rest of the mammals, from largest to smallest, were sworn in. From large deer, antelope and a tan coloured gazelle to a wolf and a striped hyena. Then sheep, goats, a few pigs and the marbled fox who'd started the clapping. Then a few hares, a polecat with a yellow back, rabbits, going down to hamsters and mice.

All said their words, excitedly in some cases (such as the wolf, who rounded it off with a howl) to nervously for some (such as the fox girl, who'd half stumbled over herself), but together they finished, celebrating and cheering. And afterwards Kozlov walked into the bathroom and, making sure he was alone, punched the wall before cradling his head. Finally, though, he raised it, smiling, and walked out.

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"You sure you can carry them all?" Kozlov asked, smiling as he looked down at Nikolai. The moose had a variety of smaller Young Pioneers hanging in his antlers, from a couple of mice riding between the tips to a beech marten sitting in the bowl of one as if it were a chair.

"I have the ability," he said, beaming. "They have the need."

"Da!" Kozlov chuckled, smiling as they took the tram along the waterfront, rattling with their tour guide north. "But you think in tram they can sit down on the seats, no?"

"I want my friends to see everything," he said, before pointing at the bear. "Like you do yours."

Kozlov shrugged, the mice and Siberian hamsters on his shoulders gripping on and letting out the odd noises before settling down. "I suppose I do," he chuckled, eyes gazing out to the east. Through the odd gaps in the buildings he could see the great river flowing down to the Caspian Sea. The thought got him thinking. "Do you get the seals this far up river?"

"Huh?"

"The seals," Kozlov said, turning back to face him. "I know you get them in the Caspian Sea, and…"

"Oh, those guys?" He shook his head. "I met them once when my family had a holiday down on the coast, but no."

The bear nodded.

"I'm happy I'm a moose and not a seal."

"Huh? Why's that?"

"Must be hard for them to use a bunsen burner."

"HA!" the bear laughed. "Little Medvedleev still."

"Uh-hu," Nikolai smiled. "I have a drawing of his original periodic table, and the latest one, in my atheists corner."

Kozlov nodded. "Nice. Very original."

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"-Wait, wait, wait," Judy cut in, earning a grunt from Kozlov. "'Athiests' corner?"

"Da," Kozlov nodded. "Like little corner of religious icons, but full of anti-religious stuff for state atheism."

"I… That was a THING? Why would you even do that?"

"Because, bunny I still respect but decreasingly so, it was in manual. NOW IF I CAN CARRY ON WITH STORY…"

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"Yes," the moose said, smiling as he brought out his Young Pioneer's handbook and opened it out to the bit about setting up an atheists corner in their room. "Of course, I have the other slogans and stuff too. It's all here in the book!"

"Da," Kozlov smiled. "All there, even for dumb bunnies far in future."

Whatever conversation would carry on was halted as the tram came to a stop, the various young pioneers standing up as their guides, standing by the door, led them out. Nikolai guided Kozlov out, the young bear jumping down only to pause, eyes widening and rising at the sight in front of him.

A great mass, rising up, a huge stone staircase to the sky. And there, just visible…

"-I'm still good."

Kozlov blinked, looking down at Nikolai, the moose smiling as he made sure his passengers were well seated.

And then, together, they began walking forward.

Up the steps.

Rising and rising, all together, slowing down at times for the smaller mammals, glaring at the wolf pup demanding they go on faster, at his pace, leaving the slow ones behind. A strong word from one of the adult guides and the pouting canine slipped back in line, thankfully quiet.

Kozlov just looked forward, fur standing on end, a daunting presence over his thoughts as up he rose, not minding the weight on his shoulders and tugs on his fur.

How could he dare feel like he was having it hard in this place of all places.

And on, up the steps went, the summit not getting any close until, finally, they reached a lip and stepped onto a large plaza. In front of them, hidden before, stood a stone statue of a bull soldier, his machine gun in paw as he rammed forward into battle, leading the charge to save the city now bearing his species' name and then on further, to save his country. To save the world.

"-City now bearing his species' name?" It was the younger panda speaking, scratching his chin.

"Volegograd named after Volega. Named after Vol, Russian for Bullock. In our language doesn't have the e. Westerners put in spare 'e' to make it make sense."

"Ah, gotcha. Carry on."

Kozlov wondered whether he'd approve of them leaving the soldier behind so soon, circling around the fountain below them, to see what was behind.

Another great flight of steps rose up to the peak of Mamontev Kurgen, lined on both sides by huge etched murals. And there, visible for the first time, rising into the sky, the great statue they'd only barely glimpsed before. Sword raised high, her other arm and face turned away, the great mother goat calling them all to fight the enemy off their land, back to their termites nest, liberating all lands before her and avenging those who had died defending this great city.

A deep feeling in his gut, Kozlov carried on with the rest, up the next flight. On either side the stone hewn murals showed tanks and artillery guns and the struggle for freedom and liberation with examples of almost every species in the country taking part. Everything was mixed together, chipped and smashed, like the earth was trying to claw them back.

The motherland had called.

They had fought…

They had died.

Thrown into the meat grinder, the slaughter, the death and the destruction.

Kozlov had seen it too, back down when they'd visited the blasted ruins of the flour mill, left as they were after the great battle that had taken place when this city wore a different name. The roof gone, whole parts of the wall torn off to reveal the concrete beams inside falling down. But the thing that struck the bear the most had been the bricks, shattered and split off, peppered with bullet holes until it all looked like something from a different planet.

Or this one, as if it were metal, left to rust and degrade, melting down over the years.

The same feeling struck Kozlov as he looked at the two great murals on either side, the dead and living, soldiers and patriots, tanks and guns and weapons, the whole collective tidal wave of the army and people degrading down back into the earth.

"-It's to make them feel better..." Kozlov's ear picked it up and he turned, eyeing the wolf kid as he talked to the hyena. "Those prey mammals didn't do anything to actually kill the Germans. They just stood around and got shot. It was us guys who shot and killed them all. All the soldiers and everyone there should be predators."

"I…" the hyena pondered. "What mammal should the statue be?"

"A wolf, obviously."

"-Say, Nikolai?" Kozlov spoke, raising his voice enough to make sure the wolf could hear. "What did your family do in the war?"

"I…" the moose began, trying to think it through. "Well my Uncle died pushing them off the Kuban, my father served in the artillery behind the river, my aunt and all her family helped dig the trenches to defend the city but were killed in the bombings, my…"

On he carried on, eyeing the wolf, all as the marbled polecat jumped in. "My daddy says my grandaddy died at the Red October factory. He snuck through the rubble to shoot them until they shot him."

"My daddy held a machinegun post and kept firing until he was overun," one of the local sheep added on, all as more mammals spoke up.

"Well MY Daddy was a pilot," the wolf spoke up, a few mammals, pred and prey, jumping in to say the same thing about theirs or their grandparents, alive or dead. Either way, Kozlov smiled just a bit that he was put on the back foot, even if he didn't quite like the talk now filling this holy place.

So he stepped back, hoping to get at least some peace again, to remember. To think. He moved away and turned, jolting back as he realised he'd almost stepped right back into the young marbled vixen. The sound of him on his feet shook her from whatever solemn thoughts she was having, the girl jumping up with a little jolt, right paw swiping across her chest before jolting down to her side.

There was a pause, Kozlov waving her on as off she scurried. The bear looked on the wall for a bit, pausing as he saw a seemingly half-eroded mural of a tank, a vulpine head sticking out of one of the hatches.

And so they carried on up. Another level, with a large reflecting pool. And then, to get up the hill, they went through the great hall of the eternal flame, the fire burning and soldiers standing there to attention. Even if they didn't react, Kozlov and the rest saluted them before carrying up the ramp around the outside, gazing at the mosaic finished walls and the words written in. Out and then up and up the final peak of the great hill. Until finally they stood, together, at the top of the ancient mammoth's barrow that had been battled over, that mammals had died over, sacrificed themselves for.

And here, towering over them, the great statue, the goat, one of any normal mothers of the country, holding her sword aloft. Calling out, beckoning on the advance. The great giantess, pointing them all to glory. Kozlov looked on at it. No glory for the one, glory for them all, glory for the people, the motherland. The soldiers with the rifle who died, the ones who picked up the rifle and died, and so on.

Whatever the sacrifice.

But then, as he turned he saw the other bank of the river. His side. And in front of it this side, the city, the people. He looked down at the young mammals and sighed, smiling and heading back down with them.

There was more to see.

There were to be games and laughter.

There was to be…

A loud call of anger cut him off and he turned to face the others, that wolf pup. He was standing, paws on his hips and a proud, tough, sneering look on his face. Standing next to him was one of Kozlov's own fellow pioneers, a sheep, pointing back down. "No it's not!"

"Yes it is," the wolf said as one of the guides walked over, demanding to know what was going on.

"That sheep there traded wool for sweeties." He turned, pointing to a pig girl who'd come with them, a pair of small woven trotter gloves held in her fingers. The little boy smiled. "No mammal should have to sell their physical body. That is just the ultimate form of capitalist exploitation. The…"

"-I didn't sell them," the ram huffed. "I just made them in my own time. We were just…"

"Bourgeoise," the little wolf said, finger out. "Bourgeoise, Bourgeoise…" A few of the other kids around him began calling out before the guide shut him down.

"Enough," she hissed. "In this place of all places. Really?"

The wolf stepped back, ears and tail going down, before they perked right up. "Did all the soldiers die just for that?"

The guide sighed. "While it's true that the exploitation of mammal products is a rightful forbidden evil," she said, holding up her clothes. Like all clothes they were made of plant based or artificial fabrics. "-And that in the past sheep families did evil things to their own children, breeding themselves to try and have their family produce more wool for sale… That's not the same as this. Barx and Lemming saw mass exploitation and suffering, reducing entire species down to just single products, taking control of their lives and destinies just to produce it. It needs to be rightfully opposed, and if he was making his whole family cut their wool and make stuff, you would be right. But this," she said, pointing at the gloves. "Is just a nice gift for a friend."

"But…" the wolf began.

"No BUTS," the guide said.

The canine began sulking, kicking the floor and grumbling as they carried on down, idly mumbling about how he'd catch a counterrevolutionary one day and be a big hero and everyone would fear him as he was a real big predator…

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Kozlov couldn't sleep.

It was too warm, his mind was still abuzz, he kept wondering…

Wondering…

That wolf.

Was that what he looked like?

Was that what he'd almost become, to find the truth about Rustim and the others?

He snorted, wondering just how such an unpleasant mammal who just didn't get it even got into this first honor batch of the pioneers.

Then again, enough zeal under the right mammals…

And young enough to play the tail-stepping off as youthful cuteness.

If he kept it up, if he grew older, would he end up rising further? Become a terror in the night? Or would he step on too many tails and end up at the receiving end of what he wanted to give out.

The bear snorted. At this rate the wolf wouldn't need to step on too many tails, his mouth would just bring him trouble.

So what would be the pain in serving it to him early?

His almost closed eyes shot wide open as he got up. Legs over the edge of the shaking metal bed, he rested his head in his paws. Honestly, hitting him just a little this early would be a favour… Bark him down while he was still nothing more than a child, set him straight.

And set Kozlov on the path he needed to go.

But were they different?

-Of course they were different! He closed his fists. That wolf was doing it for glory, he didn't even understand why they did these things! And Kozlov… He stood up, walking out the dormitory in the Pioneers Palace and towards the bathroom.

Yes, he could do this.

He could do this.

But how?

How. He hadn't planned how to stitch up whoever it was he chose, he needed to work out which mammal it was then work out something. Especially as the other pioneers he'd met weren't complete zealots for the cause.

He turned around, into the male toilet, rubbing his head. Thinking, thinking, pacing about.

Trying to figure out something, a chance, anything… In what little time he had to do this.

Minutes passed, or hours, how long he didn't know.

Just him, the silence of the night, the far off sounds of the city, a soft creak from next door…

He paused, hearing another door open and close behind the thin wall separating him from the female bathroom.

And then…

Whispers. Very odd, unusual, whispers.

He paused, slowly walking towards the wall as softly as he could, ears peeled.…

"-sanctify them that put their trust in Thee: Save Thy people and bless Thine inheritance; preserve the fullness of Thy Church."

He blinked. Was that… Praying? It had to be. He looked around before pausing, seeing a small crack around one of the pipes. It was a struggle with his size as he got down, tried to peer in, tried to make out and see the figure in the other room…

There, kneeling down, a little book by her side. The young marble fox vixen.

"-do Thou glorify them by Thy divine power, and forsake us not that hope in Thee…

She was praying.

The kind, meek, unsure little fox vixen. Who'd sworn to be an atheist…

Kozlov stood up. He began pacing. This way, that, quietly. Paw rubbing over his head, head snapping this way and that, eyes closing and a swallow going down. He waited until it seemed like she'd left it for a second or two… Paw closed tight, teeth grit, he walked out the door, found the nearest small mammal fire alarm, and pulled it.

The bell screamed out as he raced back into the mens, just as the vixen hurried out in a panic.

Kozlov pulled himself into it behind her, a little searching going on before he came out, something hidden in his shirt.

A quick roll-call, angry questions about if anyone saw anything.

Kozlov, being a large mammal, had had his own small room. No-one remembered him being out. That wolf pointed out the fox, her colour the result of greedy rich foxes breeding themselves, was out of the dorm at the time.

Nothing much was done, they were told to go back.

And through the light of a torch Kozlov looked on at the little prayer book, written out in little paw-writing, likely copied from another. And where he could he scribbled in crude childs curses against the state, the motherland, where he could. That god would return things to how they were.

And then he went to the toilet again, returning back and waking up one of the guides having found something. He handed it over, he explained how it made sense with some of her other reactions, him filling it in himself.

And that morning he watched as she was brought into the office and interrogated on the vows she'd sworn, yelled at for daring to break their trust. He watched as she blubbered, she cried, she said she still loved her country, she just loved god too.

He watched it all.

And when given the honours he walked over to her as the guides held her tights as she buckled, pleaded, cried and bawled. In front of him, in front of the other young pioneers, her friends yelling insults at her, the wolf kid jumping up and down in righteous passion and fury.

She managed to hold it in just a bit, bloodshot tear stained blue eyes looking up as the water flowed off the black rims and tracked down her muzzle. She quivered and trembled, ears back, letting out a final whine of sorry…

As Kozlov leant forward and tore off her neckerchief, holding it up tearing it into tattered shreds in front of her as she burst down into tears and was then thrown out, stumbling and falling over herself as she fled the yells and calls and even pinches to her tail, trying to pull out some of the fur.

Kozlov watched her run, her tears and footsteps echoing into the distance until it was covered up by the jeers and yells. And he took a breath in, a breath out, and thought to himself one thing.

If this worked?

It was the first step, of so many…

And he'd walk them all.