CPT Obmeyer: Ch. 7
Imported from SF2 with no description.
HOW I WISH YOU WERE HERE (PT 2)
The apartment door opens sluggishly and you go to pull your coat off.
To your immense anger and frustration, Lotte shuts the door behind you and yanks the leash hard before you can leave.
"Pavel Obmeyer," she scolds, fixing you in place with her intimidating gaze and impassive frown, "YOU have acted rebelliously."
You spin around on your feet and meet her leer with your own. "Don't do that to me Lotte, I despise it. I'm not a mutt, and you don't own me like one either."
She yanks the leash again, this time much harder, and you stumble into range.
Lotte has that calmness, that imperious look on her face, as if she's disciplining an unruly child or verbally beating down a mouthy young recruit.
"I am your wife, boy, and you have been mine and the State's since the day you were born. Your respect is ours by right, as is your obedience."
You are too fucking tired for this.
You just sold your soul for the second time this year, and you are not taking this.
"Don't call me boy, animal."
You see red in Lotte's eyes, up close and personal, when she lunges forward to grab you by your coat.
"SAY THAT AGAIN" she shouts, livid as hell and spraying spittle over your face, "say that again to the animal who holds everything you hold dear in the palm of her fucking hand, and has been told time and again that your ingrate self needs to be flogged! SAY THAT AGAIN, PAVEL!"
This should be terrifying. You spent most of the last few weeks deathly afraid of this exact reaction, but you're tired.
You're so very, very tired right now.
"Is flogging a subordinate in the Order & Disciplinary Manual, CPT Obmeyer? Do you even have the right to beat me? I'm under Doc Roe's exclusive authority, last I heard."
You've struct at a chink in her armor. Lotte's eyes flicker uncertainly, just for the briefest moment, and her grip on you loosens.
"I have every disciplinary authority over my husband, and I WILL NOT--"
"DO YOU HAVE AUTHORITY OVER E-1 OBMEYER THEN?!" You interrupt, physically and verbally rallying as you push your wife off of you. "Abuse of disciplinary power's gonna look real ugly on that perfect fucking record of yours, don't you think? Think you'll make Colonel with that?! FIELD MARSHALL?!"
You can hear Lotte panting heavily through gnashing teeth, and feel the energy in the room shifting against her.
"How about instead of crucifying me for taking the only way out to protect your investment, as you so often call me, you act like a good little soldier and adapt to the circumstances?"
"There were other ways out!"
"LET'S HEAR 'EM THEN!"
She never expected you to push back on this, and it has sent her through a complete loop.
Papa didn't raise no fool, and Mama didn't raise no coward!
"I love you Lotte," you admit morosely, feeling more like a self loathing addict than a husband. "Just apologize and admit--"
"SHUT UP!" She shouts in your face. "Are you even aware of what you've just done? Do you not know what happens in these backwards, savage lands?!"
"Ferals have always gone out of their way to target collaborators like you, and the enlisted are even worse! And now I have to watch your back as well as my own!? Did you even think about my heart before you signed, Pavel Yekaterinavitch?!"
"It was my choice to make, Lotte!"
"NO IT WASN'T!" She shouts in your face. "You have now defied a direct order, embarrassed me in front of a fellow officer, and put your life in incredible danger with this recklessness! As far as I'm concerned, OUR AGREEMENT IS VOID!"
...
You...
...
You find your courage at last.
You know what you have to do.
Everyone has a line in the sand, and CPT Obmeyer has just crossed yours.
"Take it back."
Obmeyer scoffs. "Tsk! Excuse you?"
"Take. It. Back." You respond calmly. "Take it back, or it's over."
You've confused her now, and her anger begins to disintegrate. "Take what back?"
"Our agreement. My family. Take it back, or it's over between us."
CPT Obmeyer actually laughs for once. "You think I care what you think? You think I need your cooperation when I come for what's mine?! Pavel, don't tempt me with a good time!"
"I know you do." You respond, and unclip the leash. "Take it back, or you can cook for yourself, dress yourself, clean for yourself, and sleep by yourself for the rest of our lives together. Abandon my family, and I abandon you."
"As if you have a choice in any of that."
"Don't I though?" You ask calmly, and remove your collar.
CPT Obmeyer watches you, subtly unnerved. "How dare you! I did not give you permission to-"
You don't let her finish. You turn on your feet and go, tossing your coat wearily on the counter and taking a seat by the coffee table.
"Hang that up properly, right now. This isn't the barn you were raised in."
You ignore Obmeyer's gaze. "Make me."
Her fists open and close repeatedly, and her jaw grinds back and forth.
"Make me do it, CPT Obmeyer. Raise your hand, discipline me, and prove to me you don't care what I think."
...
Your wife's fist slams into the wall, leaving a baseball sized hole. She storms into the bedroom without another word, and slams the door behind her.
You put your face into your hands and take a deep, quivering breath. Gospodi pomiluj, Obmeyer did that with her left hand.
She's been threatening to physically discipline you since the day you met, and in the end she didn't have the nerve to go through with it.
Does she love you then? Has Iron CPT Obmeyer gone soft for her husband's touch?
A much darker thought enters your mind:
Maybe you just weren't worth the effort.
Maybe she really will tell Inspector Goll to shred your marriage contract, throw your family to the metaphorical wolves, and ship you to some "unworthy" junior officer.
If you're lucky, that just means she doesn't polish her boots properly. If you're unlucky, it means a beast who'd use your body like a pincushion and let her friends rape you for cash.
Oh fuck, is Doreen married? Would she get to take you for keeps?!
Fear of the possibility sends you running to the sink to vomit up what remains of the afternoon's fancy cheeses, punch, and opulent sweet meats.
You...you have to calm down. Think rationally about this, or you'll have a panic attack.
The whole damned officer corps called you cute today and watched her pin a medal on you. She can't just toss you out without causing real problems for herself.
The queasiness in your stomach starts to dissipate.
This whole fort is stuffed to the brim with bachelorettes. If she decides to ditch you, you can find another voluntary marriage before they ship you out.
Maybe that fennec with the flowers or...or maybe the LtCol's daughter!
Your heart rate returns to normal.
You aren't doomed. If it comes to that, you have backup plans.
It just means Millie is an orphan, and your mom and older sisters die in a coal mine somewhere during 8 years of hard labor.
You hang up your heavy coat, and take out Papa's old bomber jacket.
It doesn't even smell like home anymore...
Into the chair by the coffee table you go, wrapping the sentimental old thing around you for warmth.
The building team hasn't turned on the heat tonight. They must be saving generator fuel for the expedition.
It's just like the train all over again. What a rotten life this is.
You quietly pray to Papa's god for salvation, and try your best to sleep.
You were asleep in that chair for barely an hour when you first heard Lotte's cries for help.
Anthros may often have better hearing than humans, but human hearing is sharper in certain ways.
What you heard was startling enough to wake you once your subconscious mind recognized it, and where it was coming from.
"Please...please don't...! I'm sorry, please don't...Madder, I- please-!"
You swallow hard.
That is a very, VERY sore topic for Lotte.
'Go back to sleep. Leave her be. It's not safe to be in the same room as her right now.'
Soon Lotte starts saying things in that strange language of hers.
It sounds nothing like English or the pecks of Spanish you sometimes hear from frontier girls, and you're completely stumped what it could be.
A few obvious words stand out to you though among the tears:
Madder, Harrgott in Himmel, bewi, wennich schweschder
One word she always repeats with abject terror:
Vadder
What horrors exist in these dreams to bring someone like Lotte Obmeyer to tears?
This is what Beckett meant the other day, about her having trouble sleeping. She's prone to night terrors!
Curiosity and foolishness eventually win out over self preservation, and you rise to press your ear against the bedroom door.
You find it unlocked. Lotte lies uncovered in a mess of unkempt sheets, fresh tears matting the fur on her cheeks and marring the pillow she clutches like a life raft.
"Where is Dearest...?" She sobs.
You cover your mouth in horrified regret.
Something terrible happens in her nightmare, and Lotte's eyes finally shoot open.
Panting heavily, she looks around the room in a startled daze, before her gaze reaches yours.
A moment of confused silence passes.
The lamp from the nightstand shatters against the wall mere inches from your head.
"HERRAUS!!!" she screams.
You slam the door shut behind you and cower in the corner of the kitchen, waiting for the inevitable shouting and beating that never comes.
An hour later, the nightmares still haven't stopped.
You need help. God above, you need help. You need Mama, or Cathy, or even Sofi to show you the way out of this mess you've made.
After a while, the current wave of terror from the bedroom dies down, and you can think again.
The stove says it's 0243.
You do the only thing that makes sense, and light a candle.
>Cathy,
>Hey, it's Pavel. I don't even know if you're home yet, or still in prison and this has all been one big con, or dead, but I'm sending this to the farm in case someone's out there. Maybe you'll read it once you're free for-real.
>If you're wondering where I am, I can't tell you. The grays and jackboots own the place that I'm at, so it's not safe. Knowing you, you'd try to take them on anyways, so I'm extra-not telling you. I'm not telling Sofiya either because she'd probably faint. Sorry-not-sorry sis. I love you.
>I got married Cathy, to a rabbit who's one of the Huns with guns. I made an agreement to save the family. My soul for your freedom. Before you go ranting about how Pavel never thinks about his safety, and Pavel makes everyone worry, remember for a moment what family means. I listened to Mama and Papa growing up, and it was my choice to make in the end. I'll live with the consequences if it gives Millie a chance to see Mama again someday and you and Sofi the chance to have families of your own.
>Lotte, the girl I--
You stop writing and put the pen down.
What do you ever say about her, after everything that's happened?
This letter...you're talking like you did back on the farm. It almost feels like you left a few days ago.
How much of your old personality have you thrown out to try and please CPT Obmeyer? You've been a good little husband all this time for the family, but how much of it was an act?
You're not sure much of it ever was.
You scratch that sentence out and start again.
>I keep thinking about what Papa always said about love when we were growing up. "If they don't respect you, they'll never love you." I think I'm in that right now. Remember that big fight he and Mama had over having Millie? Mama kept trying to pull rank, say "we're having another baby and that's final," but Papa didn't budge. They wouldn't have ever stopped if Mama didn't respect him enough to tell the truth about taking the condom off, and Papa didn't respect her enough to forgive her. Papa had to have enough self respect to stand up to her first though, else she'd have tried to do it again. Mama was baby crazy sis, we both know that. She's getting up there. We don't have money for babies, neither.
>I don't think she respects me at all, Cathy. For a time I thought she might come around, but if she doesn't respect me enough to apologize-
You stop, stare at that last word, and scribble it out until it's completely black.
>If she can't say she-
No, that's worse. You weren't gonna give any details.
Giving up, you scratch the whole sentence out, rip the page, and have to copy everything onto a new one.
'Least it's prettier this way...'
It takes an hour or so of staring at the ceiling and listening nervously for Lotte before you figure out how to put your feelings down.
>I don't think she respects me at all Cathy, but that's okay. I think I've found a way to survive. Jackboots want me to treat the wounded, and in exchange they'll let me be a nurse. They want other boys like me doing something similar, so I'll keep renewing my contract so I never have to be alone with her in the same house. I always wanted a purpose in life. Don't come looking for me. I'm gonna be okay.
>Tell Sofi I love her, and that I miss the way she grooms me when she's nervous about something. Tell Millie I love her too, and that I'll try to visit someday. Leave a cigarette on Papa's grave. You know how he gets when he doesn't have his Sunday smoke. When your assignment number comes up, try and love him like mom loved dad.
>With love, now and forever, Pavel
You put the whole thing into a prepaid envelope and stamp it with Goll's official seal.
You stole them both from AS3 Bernardi's desk during your first encounter, while Lotte was verbally tearing her a new one.
The seal should get the letter past the censors without being opened. Knowing Goll, she'll never admit to having lost it.
The crying from your bedroom has resumed.
The pleas for something to stop continue.
What would Papa have told you to do?
How did Papa get Mama to apologize and end the Millie fight...?
...
He didn't.
Mama never apologized. She's the kind of person who simply can't.
But you don't need an apology to forgive someone.
Not when it's someone you love like Mama.
Or Lotte.
You quietly push the bedroom door open.
Lotte is still holding the pillow tight, and murmuring fitfully in her native tongue.
Where did she say she's from? Pennsylvania?
That's a name on a map to you. Maybe someday she'll tell you more about it.
You move to your side of the bed, and quietly crawl across to Lotte.
Tears are running down her cheeks again, and her ears twitch anxiously like a creature preparing to run away from something ghastly.
You reach out and tenderly wipe her face. Why'd you have to make it about winning or losing?
You don't live a happy life and raise a loving family by holding scores with those closest to you.
Lotte's eyes jerk open, and she looks at you like...
Well, strange as it is to say, like a child cowering before an upset parent.
Your voice cracks as you speak, and tears run down your face.
"I'm so sorry, zaichenya. I couldn't see you were hurting too. Forgive me my cruelty, dearest."
...
Lotte springs out of the sheets and pulls you down to her with the strength of an Amur tiger.
She hyperventilates into your ear as she crushes the life out of you, her words coming out in a garbled mess of English and foreign gibberish.
"Y-you will never leave me again-! M-my dearest will stay where he belongs, and he will never leave!"
You try to free your arm and hold her back, but she seems to think you're trying to run and hugs you all the tighter.
"You w-will...!" She gasps. "You will never speak of tonight, a-and you will take my secret to the grave, and you will--!"
You kiss Lotte on the lips.
"Y-you will-!"
You kiss her again on the neck, and nuzzle her fondly.
Lotte starts crying again.
"My dearest w-will hold me at night, even on the march, and h-he will do as instructed by his commander, and do his best to heal the broken!"
"I promise, zaichenya. I promise to make you proud."
She sniffles back her tears and inhales your scent. "I know you will, Dearest..."
Your hand frees itself, and Lotte flinches. She melts into you though when she feels you gently stroking her back.
"Do you love me, Dearest?"
"I do."
She closes her eyes.
"Will you honor me with children, Dearest?"
You hold her tight.
"I will."
Lotte lets out a long, relieved sigh.
"I am...verliebt, Madder."
She's sound asleep 5 minutes later.
Your wife is gone when you wake up the next morning, and the sun is already bleeding through the living room windows.
The apartment is the same as always, and your morning routine goes on like normal.
As you prepare to leave for the base clinic however, you find a letter addressed to you on Lotte's nightstand.
>Pavel,
>Orders came in yesterday to reconnoiter the Wind River Reservation area, pending the army's primary westward thrust.
>I have been tasked with leading a team of scouts, and will return home in 5 days time. Arrangements have been made for SSGT Beckett to watch over you in my absence. She will arrive this evening to assume her watch.
>Though I thought it best to depart while you slept, my chest aches as I write these words. Forgive me my cowardice, husband. I have not the strength to say this in person.
>I have always cherished your love.
>For all of my adult life, Assignment has appeared to me as just another duty I owe My State. I planned to reproduce thrice, satisfy population growth, and never lie with a man again.
>Then your file crossed my desk by pure happenstance, and I was stricken with a longing I have never known before. I had hoped this fascination on my heart would pass following our first encounter, but it has only grown with time and proximity.
>It was I who contrived for you to be on the train that day, so many weeks ago. The Inspectorate had intended to send you by express rail to Cheyenne for assignment, but I had you diverted to Ft. Douglas and stole you away with threats. I have never been worthy of you.
>Not once did I ever entertain the idea my feelings could be returned. Now, I charge towards motherhood with the same exhilaration I once felt only for combat.
>I love you, Pavel Yekaterinavitch Koslov.
>Your Lotte
>Post-Script: I have taken your father's jacket. It smells fondly of you.
Lotte's note leaves you breathless.
After what feels like an eternity of holding it against your heart, you place it gingerly on the nightstand and crawl into Lotte's side of the bed.
It all smells of her, even the pillowcase.
"I love you too, Lotte Obmeyer."