I won’t tell anyone how I spent two hours shaking in the dusty, stuffy back of a truck. I’ll never tell anyone about how Vasya got carsick, or how the poor snake puked all over my new uniform. And I certainly won’t tell anyone about the banal insult: I found myself in the cultural capital of the Soviet Union for the first time, but because of the windowless, canvas awning, I couldn’t see a thing! And during the ride on that devil’s cart, I learned that Latin and Russian swearing go together perfectly—when I pulled out a mirror and tried to adjust my uniform, the truck turned sharply again, and my butt ended up on the floor. Again.
“Wingardium, Fucking Leviosa!” I frantically pointed my wand at the silver frame that had rolled under the bench, and it obediently hovered in front of me.
It was difficult, it was very sweary, but in the end I managed, and the new Soviet military uniforms fit me and my friends like they were made to measure; it wasn’t for nothing that I spent so long learning how to cut and sew. The only “but” was the boots. I looked at the shit-kicking boots offered and, with a commanding arbitrariness, ordered the girls to put on their own, worn-in and tested ones. Having looked contentedly at my work, I was finally able to sit down on the bench and relax, while laboriously clearing myself of the waste products of the scaly familiar. Flora alone didn’t give a damn; the little things flew around us and giggled merrily, which was incredibly annoying, but under the furious gaze
Miona, Elvira and I didn’t dare to offend the little fairy in any way.
The trip itself was quite exhausting; the driver clearly dreamed of becoming a Formula 1 driver, or perhaps was a former minibus driver. I can’t explain his driving style otherwise: we were jolted and swayed the entire way. At every turn, I felt like the heavy vehicle was about to flip over, and once we were out of town, the truck’s engine roared as if the Paris-Dakar highway lay beneath its wheels. We made three pit stops along the way; judging by the conversations, we stopped at checkpoints (there was, of course, no soundproofing in the truck bed). And when our infernal chariot finally came to a complete stop, my friends and I were simply happy to feel solid ground under our feet.
“Get out!” Comrade Major knocked on the side, and the girls and I immediately left the “hospitable and comfortable” transport.
Once free and looking around, I realized we’d “landed” on a military base. How else could you explain the four-meter-high concrete fence topped with barbed wire, the machine-gun nests along the perimeter, and the marked parade ground where the truck had stopped? Apparently, we were in the farthest corner of the military facility, because all the monumental buildings were visible somewhere in the distance, while all I could see was a tall, corner-mounted reinforced concrete pillbox, a wooden barracks, and a couple of officers’ tents, surrounded by a large group of children. Taking a breath of fresh air, I noticed the crowns of centuries-old pine trees beyond the fence, but my curiosity was interrupted by a stern officer standing in front of us.
“They even look like people.” Comrade Major looked us over critically and was satisfied.
“Where are we… Ow!” I was cut off by a powerful stinging blow that landed below my back. Bitch! How?! How the f*ck do his spells bypass all my protective artifacts?!
“All questions later! Victor, and for you—Comrade Major General, he’s been waiting.” Igor pointed to the tall officer at the front of the line. “Run, march!”
– Yes! – I, as the eldest, answered the officer and ran in the direction indicated, and the girls followed my example.
About thirty children, aged seven to seventeen, were waiting for us there, naturally, almost all of them black-haired and blue-eyed. Just how strong is the Black bloodline? Or did my grandfather choose his sons’ brides based on specific criteria? Some stood out, of course, but most likely they were relatives on the side of the wives or husbands of the numerous Black descendants.
We quickly got our bearings and fell into line by height. Igor took a place next to his older brother, who nodded to him, looked us over carefully, and then said something into his collar button. Five minutes later, fifteen more officers in uniform approached us, among whom I recognized Dima and Nina, boasting their sergeant ranks, as well as “grandmother” Masha, Olga, and Valentina with their assistants. The presence of the latter rather unnerved me—a children’s summer camp doesn’t usually require master healers and a master necromancer.
“Good day, comrade soldiers!” the Major General barked, to which we greeted him in unison. “Welcome to the Black Star summer camp! I’m glad to see you all, and I’m proud of you! You are the future of the Soviet Union,” his gaze fell on me, “and the British Empire! Soon you will become officers, and the security and well-being of the country will depend on you! Now stand before you the most powerful and skilled wizards of the Great Soviet Union, and over the next three weeks we will impart to you our accumulated knowledge and skills to the fullest extent. All that is required of you is diligence in your studies and obedience to your instructors. Remember, although we are one big and friendly family, there will be no leniency at Black Star! From this moment on, you are considered cadets, and any violation of the rules or failure to observe subordination will be severely punished!” Each of you came here voluntarily, and if someone is not ready to undergo tough, even cruel training, then let them take a step forward!
Naturally, after such a fiery speech, no one stepped forward; everyone was looking with interest at the senior officer and his retinue. I also took a closer look and was a little shocked; I’d never seen so many master fighters in one place. Fuck, they could take over Magical Britain with that crowd! Ahem, not all of it, of course, but they could easily manage to take a strategic foothold and hold it until the main forces arrived. It only just dawned on me, like a giraffe, just how large and powerful the Black family is.
“Excellent,” Victor said, smiling contentedly. “Many of you have been here many times before, so you can explain everything in detail to the newcomers later. You will now be divided into three groups: Alpha, Beta, and Gamma. Selection is based not on age, but on skill; the lists have been personally approved by Comrade Marshal.”
Before Viktor could finish, three officers (all wearing major’s epaulets!) stepped forward and began calling out names, occasionally last names, thus assembling their groups. The oldest went to Yefim, who commanded Alpha Group, the middle ones were with Olga, and Igor greeted the youngest with a smile. To my surprise, Elvira was in Gamma Group. I was about to ask a question, but someone beat me to it.
“Smith’s only known about magic for a year, that’s very little, so she absolutely needs the basics.” Igor looked at me seriously. “Especially since she’s a necromage. Valentina developed a separate program for her and even found a mentor.”
“Yes!” Elvira hesitantly put her hand to her temple and, looking at me guiltily, took her place in line.
“Granger – Beta group! Matrosova – Beta group!” Olga shouted and I smiled at my friend.
“Matrosova! Do you need a separate invitation?!” I didn’t immediately realize this woman was addressing me, but a powerful stinging sensation sped up my thoughts.
“I’m Hellsing!” Rubbing my butt, I glared at this sly and satisfied…
“Silence!” the major barked, her eyes lighting up slightly. “The Marshal’s orders, and I quote: ‘Until the little ones begin to recognize the danger and continue to think with their asses instead of their heads, then address them in honor of the hero who sacrificed himself for others.'” Show disrespect again, and I’ll flog you in front of the line, is that clear?
“Yes sir!” I answered the sadist through my teeth, and in my mind I started planning how to shit in my grandfather’s slippers, both of them at once.
“You’ll show your arrogance to Mommy.” Olga was offended by my behavior. “If you don’t like something, you can pack your bags and go home right now. No one invited you here, and no one was going to force you to learn! Or, since you’re the Princess of All Britain, does Your Tea Highness require special treatment?!”
“Not at all.” This woman really angered me; no one had addressed me like that in a long time, but in my head I knew she was right, so I gave myself a mental kick and hung my head guiltily. “Sorry, jet lag, I didn’t get enough sleep.”
“I don’t give a shit!” The major looked at me sternly and, waving her wand, dealt me another stinging blow. “Learn to control your emotions; impulsive and hot-tempered officers don’t live long. I personally executed a couple of such idiots who killed their own men with a reckless order. Fall into line!”
“Yes!” I had no other answer, so I rubbed my butt and took a seat next to Hermione. At the same time, I remembered that I had forgotten to take the potions Smethwick had prescribed this morning. Maybe that’s why I was having such emotional swings?
The division was almost even: twelve little ones in the Gamma group, among whom Elvira and another tall girl with red hair and almost black eyes stood out. Our Beta group had fourteen people – eight boys and six girls, tall and athletic. The older ones, however, were in the minority, only eight people, including only two girls: Nastya and Natasha. I remembered how the former taught me tricks during winter break.
As soon as the groups were formed, the Major General ordered: hand over ALL artifacts and Miracle Phones to the educational officers, for everyone is equal in learning, and calling home is a privilege that must be earned! For this purpose, each was given a small safe-box, locked with a magical imprint, and then (which shocked me and for some reason made me want to go home) Master Necromage Valya handed each of them a soul catcher and performed the binding.
This rare and incredibly complex artifact was officially banned in Wizarding Britain. Its creation was punishable by a Dementor’s Kiss, while possession of such a precious object “merely” resulted in a life sentence in the lower levels of Azkaban. Why? Because its creation required a human sacrifice, but the Seeker was a last-chance artifact for a fighter. The principle behind such perks was quite simple: upon death, the soul would be placed in a temporary receptacle while a Master Healer quickly patched up the damaged body, allowing a Master Necromage to re-instill the wandering soul. Of course, there were a host of conditions, ranging from the qualifications of the craftsmen to time limits, and it was worth remembering that if the body was completely destroyed or the Seeker was damaged, all efforts and sacrifices would be for naught. The artifact itself was a simple military badge, also known as a “Death Watcher.” My silver plate read: ХР-31.07.1980 on one side and ЕБНТ-ПЗДЦ on the other. I wonder what that means? I had a hunch, of course, but still…
Soulcatchers were handed out to everyone, and when Valya finished, the training officers sprang into action. Team Gamma headed toward the wooden barracks, the senior, Alpha, moved toward a huge truck loaded with wooden crates that had pulled up, and we continued to stand and watch. Soon, Sergeant Nina approached us and, calling out names, began handing out IRP briquettes (author’s note: individual food rations, or military dry rations).
Having obtained everything we needed, we headed toward the tents, which were kindly labeled “M” and “F.” As we approached, I glanced again at my older comrades, who were now actively arming themselves, literally. The boys had already managed to enchant old, battered RDs (Author’s note: paratrooper backpacks) and were loading them with ammunition by the crate. The girls stood in the back of a truck, mountains of small arms levitating from its depths. There wasn’t much of interest there: almost everything was obsolete or from the Second World War, but the quantity was impressive. The guys below were immediately checking the rifles and submachine guns, then sorting them into backpacks. Before my eyes, one big guy removed a Maxim machine gun from its mount, lovingly stroked it, and slung the thing over his shoulder. Nearby, two more were fiddling with a multi-shot anti-tank rifle, looking very serious.
– Why so many? – I turned to the girl walking next to me, Vika, I think.
“They’ll have three weeks to live in the forest, and firearms are very effective against Hunters at long range.” The black-haired beauty immediately began explaining the elders’ actions. “They’re golems, our fathers, and these enchanted creatures will regularly attack the boys, and they’ll have to fight back.”
– Are there any food briquettes in sight? – Hermione caught up with us.
“Why?” The girl was genuinely surprised. “The forest is full of game, there’s a river nearby where you can catch fish, and everything else can be transfigured. Now they’ll gather up some weapons and ammunition, and then they’ll set up camp and firing positions. According to the rules, they have a twelve-hour head start before the first hunt. Oh!” She gestured at the large wooden boxes. “They’ve used mines, and they’ll make the barbed wire themselves.”
– What awaits us? – I decided to find out our curriculum.
– Later. – We had already approached the tent, and Vika entered first. – We only have an hour to get settled and have breakfast. Let’s hurry!
The inside of our canvas house seemed quite spacious, not because of any enchantment, but simply because it was designed for about twenty people. I looked around and was momentarily stunned, as was my friend; the conditions were, to put it mildly, Spartan. We were to sleep on crudely constructed bunks made of unfinished planks, which were rife with splinters just by touching them. Approaching my bunk, I touched the straw mattress and looked at the piece of burlap—I assumed it was a blanket—but the pillow was a shock once again. At the head of my berth, which couldn’t really be called a bed, lay a regular red brick!
– Is this a joke? – I patted the dusty mattress and turned to the girls present.
“Are you a witch or what?” One of the girls looked at me like I was an idiot, then with a wave of her wand transformed her bunk into a spacious carved bed. “What did the Creator give you magic for? Well, use it wisely, but hurry, we don’t have much time.”
“Thank you.” I nodded in understanding.
“Muggle thinking.” Hermione gave me a sly smile and took the next spot.
Well, I can turn a rat into a box or a snuffbox, so I can handle this too. Ten minutes later, I looked at my Soviet comrades with annoyance, realizing how far behind my friend and I were. The girls from the Chernykh family had almost finished making their beds, even conjuring up screens for themselves, and some had even started gutting their packed lunches and opening cans. Envy isn’t our thing, so I continued transforming the wooden wreck into an equally squalid bed, and after half an hour, I even succeeded! Next, I had a soft mattress, a down comforter, and a feather pillow. The last one was the hardest – the stupid block of baked clay just wouldn’t budge.
“Don’t forget the runes of fixation.” One of the girls distracted me from admiring my work. “Otherwise, you’ll wake up at night hugging a brick.”
– Thank you. – I thanked the caring neighbor.
“Riya, why don’t you quickly draw the runes, and I’ll put together a snack for us.” Miya decided to split the responsibilities; time was running out, and her stomach was already demanding fuel, preferably something rich and tasty.
“I agree.” With these words, I materialized an athame and slashed my hand—I didn’t have any magically conductive ink at hand, so I had to use improvised means.
As I scribbled the last line, my friend handed me a heated jar of porridge with meat and a cup of tea, which made me wince in disgust. A tea bag tag was sticking out of the cute mug! Disgusting! Yes, I remember how in a past life I regularly drank this stuff and considered it normal, like, what’s the big deal—it’s quick and convenient. However, in this life, I had already lived in the British Empire for many years and, like any Englishman, I reverently appreciated this noble beverage. Having once again put my cravings in one place, I quickly devoured the offered treat and headed out; our allotted time was already up.
Olga was waiting for us outside, accompanied by Nina and Dima. Under her demanding gaze, we quickly lined up and prepared to listen attentively to the instructor.
“Well, as per tradition, we’ll begin with hand-to-hand combat, but first I want to test the skills of our British comrades.” The officer looked at Hermione and me. “I need to understand your level.”
The woman waved her magic wand, and a large circle painted with white paint appeared in the clearing.
“Riga, Hera, to the center,” the mentor commanded.
– My name is Rigel!
– And I’m Hermione! – Well, we have a thing about names; only the closest ones were allowed to shorten them.
“Your names are too long, so you’re entitled to callsigns.” Olga looked at us thoughtfully. “But since you’re so special, prove it.” The major waved her hand at the young sergeant, and she stepped into the center of the circle. “The two of you against the sergeant. If you can even scratch her, we’ll always call you by your full names. If you can’t, you can stick your tongues in the same place! Agreed?”
“Yes,” I took a step forward. “Rules?”
“None, fight until you lose consciousness or are unable to fight.” The officer smiled contentedly. “Forward!”
Mia and I exchanged excited glances and, with satisfied smiles, drew our bayonets. We held the blades in our left hands, reverse-grip, as we’d been taught, and our wands were already in our right hands. Anticipating how quickly we’d unravel this Nina, I entered the circle at the same time as my friend…
What?! What the f*ck?! These thoughts were racing through my head as, two minutes later, I lay on the soft grass, holding with both hands the slimy, stinking, yet so familiar guts that were bursting out of my ripped belly. The fight, or rather the beating, was over before it had even begun.
Mia and I, as usual, began to flank the sergeant and were about to attack simultaneously, but she beat us to it. Nina lunged toward Hermione and, taking her blow with a firm block, delivered a crushing blow to the solar plexus, then sent my friend flying with a powerful uppercut. Seeing Hermione’s teeth flying in all directions, a battle frenzy overwhelmed me, and I lunged toward my opponent. But Nina deftly dodged all my blows, and then my face met her boot. Landing, I rolled to the side, spat out blood, leaped to my feet, and decided to change tactics. My entire modest arsenal of spells flew toward Nina. But the girl was very fast; all the beams flew past or she caught them with the tip of her wand. Soon she was right in front of me, and I even managed to block a couple of her punches, but at the end I took a powerful punch to the chest and was sent flying again. But I couldn’t get up; Nina had somehow managed to slash me with the knife and rip open my stomach. I realized this when, as I tried to rise, a sharp pain shot through my body.
“Enough! And you girls have pleasantly surprised me; your level of training is up to par.” I looked up at the smiling Olga who had come up to me. “But a deal is a deal. Riga, Hera, you’ll be treated now, and then we’ll begin the lesson. Nina, call the healer.”
– Yes! – The girl cheerfully saluted the boss and disappeared from sight.
The medic showed up pretty quickly, and I didn’t even have time to get used to the pain, even though I was bleeding sizably. The young man quickly cleaned the filth out of my intestines with magic, then shoved them back in with a couple of spells and sealed the wound. Damn it, he apparently forgot about the anesthesia! I had to endure it and curse through my teeth, and when he was done, he handed me a couple of vials of potions and headed off toward Hermione.
Watching my friend’s jaw being reset and her missing teeth being grown back, I understood the specific teaching methods my mother was talking about. “But if this helps us become stronger, I’m ready to endure any challenge! And I’m simply curious about what they’ll teach us here; they clearly didn’t teach anything like this at Hogwarts.” Mia staggered to her feet, and we dejectedly returned to our ranks.
Until lunchtime, Major Chernaya and her assistants methodically beat us, mostly with their feet, and after each fight, they conducted a detailed analysis of our mistakes. The woman, with intelligence and expertise, explained various points, and then challenged us back to the makeshift ring, where we got our asses kicked again.
After wolfing down a couple of cans of preserved meat and biscuits and happily washing this “food of the gods” down with hot tea, we headed to a lecture on blood magic. The subject was taught by a tall man with the rank of colonel. Thankfully, they provided notebooks and pencils, otherwise I was so exhausted I simply wouldn’t have been able to transfigure the stationery. The other girls were also tired, but they all listened attentively and diligently took notes from the master wizard’s lecture. It was truly fascinating! For several hours, the officer explained the basics of this branch of magic in great detail, and those who were starting to nod off were immediately invigorated by a powerful sting. At this rate, I’ll build up an immunity.
After the theoretical lesson, we grabbed a quick snack with the leftovers from the IRP and headed to a practical combat magic lesson. There, Hermione and I found ourselves clearly at the bottom of the class—we simply lacked knowledge and practice! Yes, we often engaged in magical duels, but our skill level was far below that of the Black family. A master healer was present at all duels, and after he had restored the loser (and often patched up the winner as well), Comrade Major would begin a short lecture with explanations. The woman explained in detail and with great interest which spells and combinations would be most appropriate in a given situation, and also pointed out our mistakes. And so it went until the evening, we showered each other with various non-lethal spells, and then analyzed the course of the duel and the spells used.
When this long and very eventful day came to an end, and we were returning to the tent, I asked my comrades a very important question.
“Girls, everything’s clear with the toilet,” I nodded towards the wooden toilet. “Where can I wash up before bed?”
“There’s a shower behind the Gamma Group barracks, but it’s better to clean yourself with magic,” Vika thought. “If you have any strength left, you can transfigure the bathtub and heat up the water.”
– What’s wrong with this shower? – Grimy Mia caught up with us.
“We call it the ‘Karbyshev Shower’; the water tap only has two settings: very cold and ice cold,” the girl answered me with a smile.
– Thank you. – And I was starting to like it here; at least in ordinary life, I would never bother with getting hot water and a way to wash my charms.
Entering the tent, I quickly tidied myself up with magic, then automatically cleaned my uniform and instinctively reached for the Miraclephone, which wasn’t at hand. A little disappointed that I couldn’t share my first day with my mom, I collapsed onto the soft and comfortable bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep almost instantly… I wondered how Mom was doing? Apparently, there was an important meeting scheduled for today… With these thoughts, I drifted off into dreamland, albeit briefly.
***
The richest and most powerful people in the British Empire were gathered in a spacious office on the second floor of a private wing of Windsor Castle. The Queen herself sat in a comfortable leather chair at the head of a long mahogany table. A tall, handsome, dark-haired man sat at her right, and to her left, a tall, platinum-haired blonde sat with a straight back, studying documents. Ten other people were comfortably seated at the table, almost all of them dressed in full dress uniforms bearing their general’s rank. The important meeting had been going on for several hours.
“Lord Finch-Fletchley, have you prepared an emergency aid package for South American freedom fighters?” the Queen addressed a short man in an expensive business suit.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the man rose from his seat. “At the moment, we can allocate 460,000,000 pounds without harming the Empire’s economy.”
“Double that amount.” The gray-haired woman sighed heavily. “The cartel leaders were foolish enough to keep their savings in American banks; the US authorities have already confiscated their deposits for the benefit of the state.”
– But… – The Lord Treasurer’s eyes widened.
“Take it from the reserve fund.” The Queen interrupted the chief economic officer’s indignation. “The Latinos must have money for the war! Especially since our investments will pay off.”
“As you command.” The Lord sat down and quickly began making notes in his electronic notebook.
– By the way, what about the payback? – The Queen turned her gaze to the Minister of Trade.
“The rebels are currently holding several port cities, and we’ve already reached preliminary agreements.” A tall, thin man in a beige jacket rose from his seat. “Our merchant ships will return loaded with fruits, vegetables, and meat. Naturally, we’ll price the goods well below their actual value.”
“Because of the war, trade has stopped, and the warehouses are full.” Lord Finch-Fletchley nodded contentedly to his colleague. “The Latinos have nowhere else to go. So they’ll trade with us and the Soviets at the prices we set.”
“Get to work,” Her Majesty nodded to the economists and turned to Infantry General Walsh. “What about the arms supplies?”
“The reopening of long-term storage warehouses is proceeding on schedule,” the stocky man said, opening a report folder. “The first shipment of 50,000 rifles, 30,000 machine guns, and 2,000,000 rounds of ammunition is already on its way. The Yankees physically can’t triple their naval blockade of an entire continent, which means we’ll be supplying the Latinos with another 500,000 small arms and 20,000,000 rounds of ammunition in the next month. Mortars, light artillery, and explosives are also awaiting their turn.”
“Excellent, what about the heavy weapons?” The gray-haired woman looked demandingly at the general.
“The Ivans took on that part of the aid,” the general handed Korolev a small stack of documents. “They have tens of thousands of obsolete armored vehicles piled up in their warehouses after the Great War. They’re practically useless against modern American tanks, but they’re perfect for boosting the rebels’ morale. Armored vehicles are rarely used in the jungle, and those monkeys wouldn’t be able to handle modern models anyway.”
“Agreed, Admiral Penwood,” a tall man in a snow-white uniform rose from his seat. “Help our Soviet comrades deliver this valuable cargo.”
“It will be done, Your Majesty.” The admiral nodded and sat down. “The first shipments will go by sea, and then the Russians will set up permanent portals.”
“Duke of Lancaster,” the elderly lady turned to the man sitting to her right. “How are you doing?”
“Everything turned out better than we expected,” the head of the UEBI smiled contentedly. “Nearly 8,000,000 migrant workers from Latin America and Mexico live in the United States, a quarter of whom are in the country illegally. And given the local population’s sentiments and attitudes toward newcomers, recruiting and creating terrorist cells is no problem. Arming future terrorists hasn’t been a problem either; almost all migrant communities have a small arsenal.”
“Very good.” The Queen beamed contentedly. “Arrange a series of terrorist attacks in major US cities as soon as possible. Schools, hospitals, kindergartens—there must be as many civilian casualties as possible! When the Yankees begin mass arrests and executions, the Latinos themselves will revolt. We must do everything possible to keep Americans busy solving their own internal problems for the next five years!”
“It will be done.” The Duke nodded solemnly and made a few notes in his notebook.
“We’ve sorted that out for now, what about the matter of the magicians?” Her Majesty turned her gaze to the platinum blonde.
“The information we received is still being verified, but its veracity is beyond doubt.” Lady Hellsing opened a thick folder. “Hellsing and UEBI analysts have already begun planning.”
“The data has truly proven invaluable.” The Queen tapped her finger on the stack of documents. “Hurry, the active phase is scheduled to begin in just three years.”
“We’ll make it.” The blonde smiled back.
“Your Majesty, may I ask?” The head of Scotland Yard rose. “If we know for certain that the leader of the radical terrorist organization known as the Death Eaters is alive, perhaps we could carry out an operation to eliminate him permanently? That way, we won’t be constrained by time, since magicians are incapable of active operations without their leader.”
“So, solving the problem could take decades.” The elderly lady nodded to the aristocrat. “Are you aware that because of the Statute, the Empire is lagging far behind the USSR and the USA, since we simply can’t actively use magic in industry and other areas?”
Everyone present nodded understandingly; the entire ruling elite of this vast country knew perfectly well how the states and the Union had built their lunar bases. In military technology, the Empire had also begun to lag behind, not to mention units like Hellsing and the Royal Guard, which were almost entirely equipped with Soviet weaponry.
“But that’s not the main problem, Lord Myers. Remind us of the recent incident in Birmingham.” The elderly lady looked expectantly at the country’s top police officer.
“It was truly an outrageous incident,” the man frowned. “Three magicians got drunk and started causing mayhem in the city center. As a result of their actions, a pub was completely destroyed, and neighboring buildings were heavily damaged. Unfortunately, there were casualties—three people died, and another fifteen required medical attention, six of whom had to be revived by magic healers. The perpetrators were unable to be apprehended; they teleported away as soon as they heard police sirens.”
“And how did you solve the problem with eyewitnesses and witnesses?” Her Majesty shook her head. “As far as I know, this street is quite crowded.”
“Standard, according to protocol,” the Lord continued his report. “They called in the E.B.I. and Obliviators from the Ministry of Magic. Both arrived fairly quickly. While the magicians were erasing the memories of bystanders and removing traces of the magic, the detectives were seizing CCTV footage, the police were providing them with every possible support and keeping the press off the scene. Within half an hour, everyone was certain that a gas cylinder had exploded in the pub. The Statute was unharmed, and the magicians promised to find and punish their own. Three days later, I was informed that the guilty magicians had been detained and were awaiting trial. They carry the harshest penalties for violating the Statute.
“How many CCTV cameras were there in the area?” the Queen continued. “And how many people received new memories?”
“Hmm… I don’t remember exactly.” The man frowned thoughtfully. “The detectives seized and destroyed the footage from all the cameras within a 500-meter radius; there were about twenty of them. As for the witnesses, the magicians provided a report listing fifty-two names.”
“Thank you, you may sit down.” The lord nodded and took his seat. “Gentlemen, technological progress never stands still, and many of you are already actively taking advantage of its achievements.” The elderly lady showed everyone her electronic notebook. “I was born in the last century, and I remember the first steam engines very well. Yes, I don’t particularly understand how this device works, but it is extremely convenient, don’t you agree?”
The respected aristocrats nodded in response; many had laptops with them and were actively using the Internet.
“So, that’s what I’m getting at,” the Queen thought for a moment. “According to reliable information, in just ten to fifteen years, every subject of the Empire, even a child, will own a pocket computer. This miniature device will have a digital camera and constant access to the Internet, which by then will have expanded thousands of times. People will take photos and videos, and then instantly upload everything to the Internet. And I also read a saying.” The First Lady of the Empire turned several pages and read one line: “‘What gets on the Internet stays there forever.’ Do you understand what I’m getting at?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the head of the UEBI sighed heavily. “Soon we won’t be able to hide the existence of the Magical World from the citizens of the Empire. When the Statute collapses and people find out…”
“That’s why we must act proactively!” The elderly lady interrupted her loyal subordinate and sternly surveyed the aristocrats present. “The issue with the magicians must be resolved within five years. All ideas and proposals must be immediately forwarded to the Duke of Lancaster and Baroness Hellsing, and they must be given every possible support! And yes, General Walsh, dropping an atomic bomb on Hogwarts is not the solution! Moving on to the next question…”
***
Several hours later, when all the discussions and questions had concluded and Her Majesty’s office was almost empty, only the elderly lady herself and a tall, platinum-haired blonde remained. The Queen leaned back wearily in her chair and sipped hot tea, while her loyal subordinate stood by the window, smoking a cigarillo. The head of the Order of Protestant Knights took a tired drag on her cigarette and continued admiring the sunset, which was particularly beautiful today.
“Tegra, my dear, you understand that your daughter will play a key role in the upcoming operation?” Elizabeth II placed her cup on the saucer.
“I understand,” the woman took a nervous drag on her cigarette, “but…”
“No buts! She’s a Hellsing, and the Crown’s orders are not to be questioned!” The Queen looked imperiously at the Baroness. “Besides, she’ll be insured by your vampires and the Empire’s finest fighters, so the risks are minimal. And the elixir of life will be a worthy reward for her heroic deeds. By the way, how’s the development going?”
“We’ve only just begun, but the prognosis is positive, only…” Integra hesitated a bit, but decided not to hide anything from her overlord. “The fragment is too small, and it will be enough…”
“The main thing is that your daughter has enough, don’t spare any money or resources.” The elderly lady smiled slyly. “I still hope to attend your grandson’s or granddaughter’s christening.”
“I thought you’d want to prolong your life too.” The young woman was satisfied with the answer and stubbed out her cigarette.
“What nonsense…” The Queen sighed sadly. “Tegra, my dear, I’ve lived a long and fulfilling life, survived two Great Wars, buried my husband and youngest son. I never loved Philip, but we respected each other, and over the years we grew very close, and Alex was my favorite, his death was very hard for me. No mother should have to bury her children, and I don’t intend to go through that again. I will go to the Maker when my time comes, especially since William has long been ready; he is smart and sensible – the perfect heir to the throne.
“I agree.” Lady Hellsing smiled thoughtfully. “Your Majesty, what if…”
“It’s not worth it…” The Queen took a sip of strong tea.
– Or maybe…
“Try this, but be careful.” The elderly lady looked tiredly at the blonde. “Anything else?”
“Yes, I’d like to involve Marshal Cherny and Vityaz. I understand the operation is top secret, but,” Integra sat down next to the Queen, “his knowledge and experience would be very useful to us.”
“I grant your permission. Sergei can be trusted; he’s with your daughter now?” Lady Hellsing nodded and poured herself some tea. “Then you can tell me about her progress. I like Rigel; she’s very much like you: strong, smart, and cruel. I’ve decided she’s ready; we’ll hold the accolade (Author’s note: Knighting) at the end of August. With the full ceremony.”
“It’s an honor for our family!” Integra bowed her head respectfully.
“Come on, you’ll be bowing at social gatherings, but right now two respected ladies are simply chatting over a cup of tea.” Her Majesty pushed a plate of cookies toward her subordinate. “Unfortunately, your father died suddenly, and his brother turned out to be quite the bastard, so your initiation was simplified. But now there’s time, and Rigel deserves a full ritual.”
“Thank you.” Integra smiled contentedly.
“It’s I who should be thanking you. Not everyone can find and cut such a diamond.” The Queen placed her empty cup on the table. “Well, we still have plenty to do, so you can go.”
“Goodbye, Your Majesty.” Integra rose smoothly and headed for the exit. She decided not to tell her daughter anything for now, but to arrange a surprise for her return from the Union.
“See you later.” The elderly lady saw the young woman off with a tired smile.
As soon as the door closed, the head of state began studying Rigel’s interview materials again. Much of the girl’s story proved incredibly interesting and promising, and now the powerful lady was considering how to use it for the benefit of the Empire…
