“Neumann, you, little idiot, it’s time to grow up, the damn time to grow up was going on for the last ten years”, - Walther could somehow call it his most popular idea in his 30. Tall, dark-haird, with a usual “Oh, please, leave me alone” look on his face he was more or less an old one on his present employment in Bundespolizei. He remembers the moment when he arrived to the office quite well - a young one, resigned from Rheinwehr with military bearing and a little disappointment. Polizei was a much more friendly place in that case, the work was less nervous and he found that it made much more sense for him at that certain moment.

He usually though of it - why in the hell he exchanged military work he dreamed of in his younger ages and then joined the ranks after graduation from Polizei Academy on New Berlin to a less romantic duty here, sometimes in the office, half of a day on the ground. In the beginning it was mostly about his marriage, of course. But after frau Helga Neumann-Wokalek became frau Wokalek and then frau Hell-Knows-What along with her next husband, Walther stayed in Polizei. Even when the relations with Liberty eventually turned into a full-scale war for the reasons he never understood, Walther stayed in Polizei. He already loved his job at that moment.

Active duty gave him skills and patience. The time he spent in a wing stationed at Battleship Westfalia was a peaceful one, without any significant Rheinland-wide events. Walter rised to Gefreiter, graduated in navigation and assembling-disassembling a handgun in 30 seconds.

For the first month or so after leaving Rheinwehr, he thought that he did things wrong. He never told his officers what was the main reason for leaving - it was like moving to another Chancellor’s hand, still a good work in a good place. But, well, a two years experience is a two years experience. Walther Neumann wasn’t a perfect pilot, but he was a good one - and his work - first time mostly in space, catching smugglers and insignificant criminals and a couple of years later - investigating actions of large criminal groups as a Detective, long brainstorms in Polizei office and sitting in the ambushes to catch one man or another - it was much better. Rheinwehr was more about time between shooting and parades, Bundespolizei was a real work for the good of people around.

“Neumann, you, little idiot, it’s time to grow up, the damn time to grow up was going on for the last ten years”, - Helmut elbowed him while they were looking for a place in crowded cafe in Saturday morning. Helmut Kirchof, a stoutish Bundestag deputy with a tendency to delicacy and public reprimands for everyone was Walther's main source of good news. For the years they knew each other - it has happened for at least ten years already - there was always a company - Walther, Helmut and Karl Koffner - a petty bourgeois from Spandau.

Today Karl had a date Steuerbehorde, so Walther and Helmut or Detective Neumann and Bundestag Deputierte Kirchof were having a coffee with apple strudel. "Listen to what I say, Walther", - Helmut mumbled with a mouth full of jam, - "the report stage of judicial reform will take place on, let me see, ja, the next week. It is strictly supported by Arbeiterpartei and some liberal deputies that are worried about influence of Rheinwehr on Bundeskabinett". Helmut finished his strudel and ordered another one. Now Walther clearly saw how young politicians gain some weight. "If they will succeed, Bundespolizei will obtain a large amount of prosecutor's authority and... Hey, look at her...", - Bundestag Deputierte Kirchof's attention was distracted by a blonde waiter in a kitschy dress and never came back.

...

Later that day Walther was yawning in general Bundespolizei department on New Berlin while checking another bunch of reports concerning his main interest. Another report from Augsburg Colony. Another 200 crates with approximately 600 animals and plants from planet Gaia disappeared after a week of being watched by Polizei.

Walther only sighed and whispered in a temper, - "Du Arschloch!"

Quotation from Homer's "Iliad" was disrupting Walther's sleep again and again. He tossed and turned, tried to bury his head into the pillow, but it hardly helped. He tried to walk from one wall to another, tried to eat hypnotics and antidepressants, tried to have an early breakfast at 03:00 Tiergarten time, he tried cooking, surfing the Net, tried to knit, tried to play the piano, tried to read the newspaper, tried to wash dishes. He only killed an hour, but failed to get rid of his thoughts. He took on the coat and went out to the street.


Walther was walking down the street blaming education system that forced him to learn twice dead languages and read ten times old books. Now, ten years later, they instantly replayed in his head. Late fall on New Berlin was frosty. Walther winced at the wind and continued the way.

Nine hours earlier everything was fine. It was a regular evening patrol around New Berlin tradelane system - from planet to Dorthmund, from Dorthmund to Bonn, from Bonn to Brandenburg and finally back to Bundespolizei department on New Berlin to finish the day and take a taxi to home, sweet home. This perfectly planned route was disrupted by Fritz Reussner that ran into something he never expected.

And now the thoughts about what happened were following Walther in ten centimeters behind him.

That nightime hanging around finished in the Bundespolizei department when Walther somehow managed to fall asleep. For the first seconds of the morning he felt good without the anxiety of the night, but when he found Oberst Maynard sitting right in front of him, he undestood that yesterday is not going to finish now.

"Guten morgen, Detective Neumann", - that kind of adress made Walther to look at Peter Maynard with a slight perpexility, - "Morgen, Peter... Oberst Maynard. Is... something wrong?", - ... - "Nein, Walther", - Maynard alegedly relaxed and added after a couple of seconds, - "Well, nothing serious. I got your report about the encounter you and Watchman have with that lifeform - that... Nomad. You know the standart procedure, ja?", - Walther nodded and straightened shoulders, - "Ja." Peter Maynard stood up and added, - "I will ask Martin to bring you coffee and something for breakfast. Put yourself in order and visit Herr Helmholtz in a hour or two. He already knows that you will come."

The standart procedure. Walther could grin, but he hardly felt himself in a bit funny situatuion. "Standart procedure" was a couple of hours long serie of tests from an interview with a psychologist and up to the bodyscans and placement to a specified medical institution - Walther knew that it exists, but it was another classified project run with Rheinwehr support. Another closed doors he never wanted to be behind.

Coffee was weak. Walther came down the ladders to the infirmary and looked around for Ludwig Ferdinand Helmholtz. Ludwig Ferdinand was an all-purpose physician with a talant to sew a leg with the same ease as to reassure a neurotic. And, in addition, he had a too long and vague record of service. When Walther ran into him at the doorway, Herr Helmholtz just smiled and invited Walther to the room.