The next week was awful. With no enemy to fight and nothing else to do but hide, my thoughts turned inward. I mourned the loss of Gershwin while the guilt of killing my sister ate away at what was left of my soul.

I could feel the pain of what I had done like a weight in my chest smothering my heart. I cried. I raged. And in a moment of weakness I felt myself wishing that I had died so I wouldn't have to live with this burden.

My dreams were horror shows of blood and gore as I watched Gershwin and Ruhern-Kasha die over and over again. I found myself not wanting to sleep.

Thankfully Gershwin Prime and I were able to discuss my feelings over beers at the lake house. It was almost surreal talking to him about the death of the other Gershwin. To my surprise he blamed himself. Everything that had happened was the result of the choices he had made back when he was alive. He had put me in this situation. It was all his fault.

"You can't take back a bullet." He said angrily, throwing his cigar away as if the fragrant smoke offended him. "I did horrible things to get back what I had lost. But don't think for one second that you're to blame for any of this. I brought you and your sister back as a salve for my own pain. I didn't do it to be noble. I didn't do it to save you. I did it because I was selfish and lonely. And a decision made from a place of pain will always bring more pain. I'm sorry for what I put you through."

I sat and pondered his words as I sipped my beer. The apology had caught me off guard but it was what I needed to hear. "How did you live with it? The guilt, I mean."

Gershwin rocked back and forth in his chair for a while. I could tell he was wrestling with a decision.

"Committing genocide is a lot like losing your virginity." He finally replied, a sad smile coming to the corners of his mouth. "It's supposed to be this big life changing thing and then you do it and suddenly you realize that no lighting bolt is coming to strike you dead for your sins. No angel will descend from on high to punish you."

He looked me in the eyes. "I don't feel guilty for what I did and I would do it again if I had to. Just like your Gershwin would sacrifice himself again. Just like you would put Kasha out of her misery again. What I regret is not finding a better solution. I regret the pain my solution caused to the ones it was supposed to help."

I chewed on his words and tried to digest their meaning. "Don't you think that we will be punished for what we've done?"

"No." He replied sadly. "We will be forgiven and forgotten. Our sins will be washed away by time. And then we too shall be nothing."

---

I wasn't alright yet, but I had the vague hope that someday if I worked at it I might feel better about what had happened.

At the very least I was functional. I was just angry all the time, even about little things. I had mood swings and bouts of memory loss. Sally tolerated me but I could tell I was quickly wearing out my welcome.

When the week was up and I was reasonably sure that the enforcers and cops I had imprinted were going to respond to me favorably I turned myself in to the police.

By then the lab results had come back on the body in my apartment and everyone was wondering how my neighbor had ended up badly burned and beaten wearing my uniform and collar. I had decided not to comment and instead waited to see what the new Kerner Braverhunds would do.

The police locked me in a cell "for my own protection" and more or less ignored me. To the guards I appeared to be meditating or sleeping but my mind was back at the lake house with the others. Gershwin Prime was overjoyed to have the company and had done the best he could to ease them through the transition. They weren't all happy about what had happened to them, but they understood why I had done it.

Soon enough a story began to circulate about how a pissed off Ruhern had abducted me from my apartment and left my neighbor's corpse behind wearing my uniform and collar to throw investigators off the scent.

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According to sources deep within the Bone Syndicate, Ruhern had decided to break me down for parts once he discovered that I was a Warhund. That was why he had taken me to Ivan and Yakob's place, to sell my wetware. But miraculously I had gotten a hold of a weapon and fought my way free, killing a dozen grunts in the process as well as putting an end to Ruhern himself. I was a hero, apparently.

There was so much that didn't add up but because the story didn't come from me, at least not that they knew of, it was somehow more believable. It helped that both the cops I had imprinted as well as the dozen enforcers were putting pressure on the investigators to accept this as the official version of events.

Eventually I found myself back in uniform sitting across from a very confused chief of police. My captain was there as well but he didn't know what to say either.

Finally I broke the silence. "I think it's best for everyone if I retire." I said, echoing the recommendation that was in their files. "I'm thinking we should say it was for medical reasons. Wounds sustained while fighting the Bone Syndicate, that kind of thing."

The two Möhin officers shared a look of relief. "That would be for the best." The chief of police agreed. "What happened is politically complex and with certain revelations coming to light about your history as a former Jagdkommando, something which somehow was not in your official records, we think early retirement is for the best."

"Ja." I nodded. "As long as I get a full pension with disability I don't care what you tell the press."

The captain winced. "That's asking for a lot."

"Nein." I rasped, my voice still hadn't quite recovered after the explosion and the more I talked the worse it got. "What I went through was a lot. This is just giving me what is owed. If the department had my back from the beginning none of this would have happened."

Finally they agreed to my demands except for one thing. For legal reasons they weren't going to say that I was retiring because of my injuries. "You could come back and sue us." Explained the Chief.

"So make something else up." I replied, my patience wearing thin. I just wanted to be done with this so I could go see Ani and make sure she was alright. "So long as you pay me I couldn't care less what reasons you give."

The Captain cleared his throat. "Don't you have that thing? That Döbian thing, what was it called?"

It took me a minute to realize what he was talking about and I had to clench my fists to stop myself from barking with laughter. "You mean my großer schwanz?" I asked. "You want to tell them I'm leaving the force because of my großer schwanz? Sure. Knock yourself out."

A look of relief washed over the two officers. "Great!" Said the Chief. "We'll draw up the paperwork for you to sign and have the press conference later today. Of course you won't be able to attend on account of your condition."

"Of course." I said, still fighting to keep a straight face. "You can tell them that I'm in bed with my großer schwanz and couldn't make it to the conference. Tell them I had a big flare up brought on by too much excitement."

"Yes." The Captain nodded. "That sounds about right."

"Then it's decided." The Chief reached across the table to shake my hand. "Enjoy your early retirement."

"Enjoy your press conference." I replied. "I'm sure I'll be sad to miss it." And I really would be too, some of those reporters probably spoke Döbian. I could just imagine the kinds of follow up questions they would ask once they heard about my "condition".

"I'll send you a recording." The Captain promised.

A genuine smile crossed my face for the first time in what felt like forever. "Oh yes." I said. "That would be wunderbar! Please do!"

---

I found the Kolbe hardware store much as I had left it, except for one thing. Ani was gone.

"She went home to Sühi over a week ago." Said Mrs. Kolbe, the hairs from her thick fur coat wafting around her as she spoke.

I frowned. It made sense for Ani to want to lay low. After all, she had given me the gas tanks I used to blow up my apartment. Those had to have some kind of serial number on them that could be traced back to the hardware store.

"Do you know when she will be back?" I asked.

"She did not say." Mrs. Kolbe shrugged her massive shoulders and retrieved a large parka from beneath the counter. "But she told me to give you this if you came looking for her. She said her sweet soft southern Döbian would need it."

I checked through the pockets until I found a handwritten note.

"Come run in the snow with me." I read aloud.

"That sounds like an invitation." Mrs. Kolbe observed.

"Yes, it does, doesn't it?" I said as I memorized the address written on the note and put on the parka. It was a perfect fit and very warm.

"You know we have a saying in Sühi. Rakastaminen ei ole mitään. Tulla rakastetuksi on jotakin. Mutta rakastaa ja tulla rakastetuksi on kaikki kaikessa." Mrs. Kolbe quoted.

My wetware translated her words automatically. I nodded to show that I understood. To love was nothing. To be loved was something. But to love and be loved was everything.

"We have a saying in Döbian, der liebe ist kein wind zu kalt." I replied.

"And what does that mean?" She asked.

I smiled, thinking about running through the snow with Ani and the warm fire afterward. "That no wind is too cold for lovers."

I would go to her. I would be honest about who I was and what I had done. And what would be, would be. If it was meant to be.