II Cleaning

Ganz einfach!, the man with the funny hat said. Kommen Sie bitte!

The Military-Cleaning-Compound was a large building. It towered over the gothic churches and the avant-garde skyscrappers; over the first clouds and the last birds. Strong and grey, it stood beside the Stadtfluss, where ant-sized boats raced with each other, oblivious to its presence.

The boy strode along the man through the aisle. Probably made in a rush, the rooms that flanked them showed different numeric systems on their doors. Given the obvious limitations of certain antique numerals, some door-tags where often printed on small cards, panphlets or even complete books. Finding a room on the 40th floor was not an easy chore, even in binary.

[The King thought that diversity should be encouraged, even when counting.]

So no less diverse where the people that lived inside the Compound. Herr Schlag, the funny-hatted man, told him about the strange pink-cheek'd Leute that wohnt in der fünfte Stock; the way they used to walk to every place in an orderly fashion and never in a rush; their women tied-up and stick-glued so their smily faces never complained. Schlag told him about the fourteenth floor, where no man could could avoid being confronted with an uncomfortable situation. Die Leute sind sehr comische, he erklärt. It seemed, the boy understood, that conflict arose daily between the families that lived there, dragging anybody nearby into their unglücklische Streit. Nonetheless, all the vierzehnten Leute seemed to forget all about their problems between each other by the next day. It was a good thing, given that sometimes they fought about the same thing three days in a row.

They stood in front of the elevator. The man splatted a hand against his forhead. Scheiße. Du müsst einen MCC-Ausweis erstmal bekommen, Schlag said pointing at his plastic id. He saw the boy's long face and trembling legs. Okay Kind, wir werden das am Morgen machen.

With a quick slice, the passed the id through the scanner and the elevator arrived in ein Augenblick. Schlag thrust'd and aufwiderseh'd him inside. The elevator door closed itself.

Nächster halt, Stock XXXIII.

Y ahora que chingaos, the small boy pondered.