Mister Lee did not know why there had been so much trouble with the house at 169 Cemetery Way. The neighbourhood was a respectable one, full of depressingly suburban cookie-cutter housing. From the kerb, 169 Cemetery Road did not stand out. Yes, the lawn could have done with mowing. Yes, the paint on the walls was beginning to peel. But it was not the worst house on the block, let alone the estate. Still, it had defeated every census official - until now.

Of course, Mister Lee had read the reports. The notes from the census-takers had ranged from 'Tried doorbell. No response.' to an illegible scrawl written in what looked like sepia ink. That last one was definitely against regulations. So, as 169 Cemetery Way had been such a troublesome and recalcitrant case, it had fallen to Mister Lee to uphold the honour of the census office..

As he walked down the concrete path to the front door, Mister Lee became aware of miasma pervading the atmosphere around the house, He couldn't place its origin, but it reminded him of a blocked drain in summer or a pice of meat left out too long on a kitchen counter. A cloud of flies converged on him - presumably attracted by the foetid odours - and Mister Lee batted them away.

He reached out for the doorbell. The bell push felt slightly greasy, and gave way with a click. From inside the house came the sound of a failing battery chime. Mister Lee stood back from the door and waited to see if anyone would answer.

It took just under a minute for someone to respond. The door opened a crack, and a haggard, unshaven face peered out at him. "What do you want?"

Mister Lee smiled reassuringly. "Good afternoon, sir. I'm from the census, here to take the details of your household."

The man at the door turned pale, visible even under the layer of grime that covered his face. "Please." His tone was plaintive. "You have to go. It's not safe."

"Sir." Mister Lee took a step forward, putting his foot between the door and the lintel. "You don't understand. It is legal requirement to -"

"No!" The man almost screamed in panic. "You don't understand!" He glanced frantically around. "You have to go before - !"

Mister Lee interrupted him "No." This was Mister Lee's 'no nonsense' voice. "I am a government official and -"

The householder roared in pain, his face contorting into almost impossible angles. From his throat came what sounded like a harpsichord strung with a thousand tortured souls. "lEAvE nOw fOOlIsh OnE!"

Mister Lee was not daunted. "I just need your name."

"OUr nAmE is lEgION, fOr wE ArE mAny!"

"I see." Mister Lee fumbled in his briefcase and pulled out a sheaf of forms. "And exactly how many are in possession of this property?"