Struggle: Grip of steel - стр. 14
we call it a cage. I don't know if elevators go that far.
– I understand. It's really deep. I thought it was a few hundred meters.
– More than a kilometer. Our mine is one of the deepest in the world.
Raven shuddered a little. He felt as if he were really going down to the devil, with whom he had started a conversation.
– So you're not a lifter, what are you? A lifter?
– Yes, a cagey one. And now the name Cage suits me. As long as the cage lives, I live. As long as I live, the cage lives. It's a very important position in the mine, because there's no other connection to the outside world. We go in and out only through the cage and no other way. And I am very proud to be entrusted with it....
– Is the coal lifted through the cage, too?
– No, it's a skip. It lifts the coal up, and there are no people inside, just coal. It's run by other people, and I'm not even allowed in there.
Raven was a little surprised that this man always answered his questions in some way. If he were in Gora's place, he would have forbidden his subordinates to communicate with any outsiders, not to mention the structure of anything. And given that the prefect was obviously not a simple man, there must have been some sense in not giving such an order among his own people. But there was nothing to be shy about, and it was almost straightforward to ask.
– Didn't you ever want to go to Maquis or someone else like us if you had the chance? Kirill shook his head slightly negatively, pursing his lips slightly:
– No. There can be no better leader than our prefect. There simply can't be. And I was lucky
enough to be born here to be under his command You know, Crow, sometimes I can't even
believe it. I could have been born anywhere. In any mine. In any industrial sector. But I was born here. In the Deese sector, where the Prefect himself is from…
A shiver ran through the raven slightly. He tried not to show it, but he was sure it was noticeable. The sight of this man was maddening in a way, his eyes, the way he spoke, and the feeling with which he told it all. In front of him stood a fanatic who had apparently willingly sold his soul to the devil and now marveled at it. Where such a thing could come from, and what should be done to people to make them think like that and even worship their commander, was a mystery. But the worst fears seemed to be justified – these men were ready to bravely give their lives not just on command, but perhaps even begging for that command. Maybe not all of them were like that, but if there were some, it was safe to say that in time they would be the majority, and in a year, if not sooner, there would be no other type of people there.