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ECLIPSE

An unlit cigarette drops from Lotte's hand.

"Excuse you?" Growls Colonel Honore.

She takes a puff from her massive cigar, then grinds it furiously into the ashtray.

"Yekaterina Koslov has, ahh…died, Colonel." Says Inspector DeWitt placatingly. “Cause of death unknown. Rest assured, once the autopsy–"

Honore's fist slams hard enough into the table to bounce everything on it and send splinters flying.

LtCol Clark dives out of her seat to keep the phone array from falling to the floor, while Doc Roe leaps back fearfully in her seat.

Major Charles's hackles stand on end.

Major Obmeyer stares.

"Ha. Haha-ha-ha. That's a funny thing to say." The kangaroo half laughs, half snarls. “Forgive me if I'm not laughing too hard right now. The punch line here better be ncredible, because otherwise I'm gonna be absolutely fuckin' livid."

"A-" DeWitt starts, but has to pause to clear her throat. “Again, we don't know the cause of death. Her behavior-"

" BULL-FUCKING-SHIT!" Honore roars into the receiver. “Do you think I'm as braindead as Goll?! How do you not know how someone in your custody died?!"

The plastic phone, so small and human sized in Brienne's massive anthro hands, cracks in her grip.

"There was a combination of factors at play, and we're not sure which one did the deed." Inspector DeWitt explains hastily.

“She stopped eating some time ago, and we couldn't get a tube in her for force feeding. Influenza has been doing its usual rounds in the cells, and we only just found the body."

Honore slams the phone down on the receiver and stands out of her seat, swearing like a sailor and looking ready to demolish the whole room herself.

A hand on her shoulder from Doc Roe calms her down somewhat. “Brienne, please, your blood pressure…"

"To hell with my blood pressure! High Command is going to be furious when they find out." She pants angrily, but wipes her face and starts taking deep, deliberate breaths.

“We…damnit that was the boy's mother! You have a son Neeva, you know how boys are. Poor thing is going to be heartbroken."

LtCol Clark raises her hands calmingly, and approaches her CO. “One of us is still married to him, Colonel. Pavel's a good boy, and he'll pose for any photos we need him in. The Human Helper Initiative hasn't died just yet."

" It's not about that Amanda." Major Charles explains, looking no less upset than the Colonel. “We promised to get his family out. Are you ready to look your little brother in the eye and say “sorry your mom died, come be our pawn?""

The maned wolf sighs. “I can't do it. Someone else has to."

Colonel Honore takes up her cigar from the ash tray and relights it with a shaky hand. “High Command has stacked a lot of chips on this, and his sisters are still wild cards. If we can't make this work it's either conscription, or we wait a decade for new operations."

Everyone in the room understands the implications:

The former would be unpopular with everyone, especially after last year's harvest.

The latter would cost the army political momentum, and upset the balance of power.

"Now I love Pavel just as much as everyone else here," Clark begins, her voice quivering, “and my heart is breaking for him, but we can't lose our heads over this. Pavel's an adult. Give him some time to grieve before declaring all is lost."

Doc Roe wipes her face and stands up. “I don't think anyone's saying we give up, ma'am. Just…shit."

She points to the phone on the table, her usual smile long gone from her face. “I need to call home after all this."

Honore takes a pull from her ash-covered cigar, grimaces, and drops it back in the ashtray. Her hand comes to rest over her heart.

"Likewise. I…I need to go. I promised Colleen we'd write to her father together."

She takes a deep, calming breath and runs a hand through her hair.

"You four figure out how to deal with the other Koslovs. Are you still doing those grief seminars, Roe?" Brienne Honore asks, audibly weak.

"We haven't had one of those in four years, ma'am." Clark says gently. “There haven't been any families to counsel."

Honore sighs. "Make it priority 1 then. Help the boy, and prepare for his sisters." She orders, and leaves with MC2 Farshaw at her heel.

Silence reigns for a long moment as everyone absorbs the gravity of what's happened.

It was all so much simpler when they didn't know who he was. Pavel isn't just a piece on the board anymore.

Sobbing from an unexpected place breaks the silence.

"I killed her…" Major Obmeyer croaks, and raises her hands weakly to stare as if they were dripping blood. “I killed Pavel's mother."

"Lotte, you aren't responsible for this. You were 600 miles away when it happened..." Major Charles replies, both equally confused and uncomfortable.

Though her face remains stoic, tears start to fall from Obmeyer's eyes to the floor. “Inspector Goll wanted $1000… She said she could move them all to house arrest. I refused to pay, and now I've killed his mother. I've killed both our mothers, I– !"

Lotte hyperventilates frantically and clutches herself frailly. “He's going to abandon me! He's going to hate me and I can't live without him!"

Major Charles glances nervously at her colleagues. “What's wrong with her? Why is Lotte Obmeyer crying?"

"Emotional dysregulation…" Roe murmurs, and moves with the certainty of a professional to Lotte's side.

“Hey… don't blame yourself for this. That's an impossible sum of money for anyone, and you did right by him coming to Anatolia and I. No one could have seen this coming. Pavel's sisters are free, and that's one hell of an achievement."

Lotte pants, chokes back another sob, and fights hard to keep from crying further.

She doesn't have much luck, but the effort is heroic.

Roe wraps an arm gently around the rabbit's shoulder, and coaxes Lotte to her feet.

"Why don't you come with me? Let's find a nice, quiet place to talk about what's going on, and how we can help Pavel together. No one wins a war on her own. Let us help you through this."

Lotte forces down another involuntary cry of grief, and nods her head. The two depart together, with Obmeyer's eyes fixed shamefully downwards.

Only LtCol Clark and Major Charles remain for now. The others will return once it's time to repeat this tragedy all over again.

"Do you think she's pregnant?" Charles asks. “I hate to play the cynic, but it would be useful if she were. The press loves a good love story."

Clark shakes her head and sniffs the air instinctively. “Doubtful. She doesn't smell like she's baking. I agree though it would be useful; Babies slow women down, and it doesn't take a genius to see Lotte Obmeyer wants to be Second Chairwoman."

---

Colleen is the first to try it.

She holds the cup in front of her nose and sniffs. “Hot," she says, and takes a sip of the strange black drink.

Almost immediately her face contorts into a terrible grimace, she muffles a disturbed cry, and rushes to stuff her face with caravanner cheese from the communal plate.

"What's wrong?" You ask, and take a whiff of the mug. “You get a batch of bad juice, or something?"

"No!" She sputters through an uncomfortable cough. “What even is this?! Are we sure it's not poisoned?" The Colonel's daughter asks in a panic, and leers suspiciously over your shoulder at the waitress working some strange old world machine behind the counter.

"Coffee's a delicacy, Colleen! It requires a refined, delicate palate to enjoy." BB chides playfully, and takes her turn with the cup.

"People used to drink coffee by the gallon, y'know. They'd spend thousands of dollars a year on their favorite beans, and shops would have turf wars over who could sell it!"

She raises the cup to her lips, and inhales the strange drink's aroma. If the stuff is as foul as Colleen says, a slight twitch of the nose is all Beckett shows.

“Mmm, yes indeed. Very…nutty. Like almonds. Contrary to popular belief, coffee isn't actually bean juice. It's a brewed beverage like tea. You didn't like tea the first time you had it, did you PVT?~"

You examine the metal tin of bovine milk the waitress left on your table, and wonder who ordered it. The other two already have water.

Maybe she brought it for you? As flattering as that is, you're still married.

"Never lead a lady on, Pavel." Papa lectures in your head. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

You shrug and take a sip. She doesn't seem so bad. No point being rude, right?

Hmm.

Tastes…thick. They weren't kidding in civics class, were they? Badlanders really are weird.

"Honey makes tea drinkable though." PVT Honore replies, and downs half of the milk as soon as you set the cup down. “No amount of honey is ever going to make that swamp-water drinkable!"

BB lids her eyes and dismissively waves off Colleen's protest.

“Oh you dear, sweet, naive little boot. Trust me when I say you're going to drink far fouler things during your career. It's better you learn to drink bitter now than later." She says with the self-assured pride of a seasoned veteran, and takes a long drink of the expensive mystery liquid.

Her eyes shoot open with the speed of a gunshot and her ears jolt upright.

Though she sets the mug down calmly, the serene smile on her face is agonizingly forced.

"Disgusting, right?" Colleen laughs.

"Bold and complex!" Beckett coughs painfully, and stuffs a block of cheese in her mouth. “Pairs well with Gouda!"

Looking down at the unappetizing black goop, you suddenly remember that some people enjoy milk in their tea.

"Maybe it's like that?" You think, and combine the two drinks.

Both anthros stare in astonishment when you down the rest of the coffee without wincing.

"Not my cup of tea to be honest, but it's not the worst thing in the world either. To each their own, right?"

"Well, obviously the milk helped." Colleen murmurs defensively, and BB nods.

“Totally…"

The girls go back to munching on cheese and trail food while you wrestle with some new and uncomfortable thoughts.

You turn to look nervously at the human waitress.

She's leaning on the counter with her chin propped up in her hand, and seems to be watching you curiously.

This is the first time in years you've seen a human woman, and the first time you've ever seen one your own age. She's wearing a low-cut Before-World t-shirt that draws attention to her cleavage, and a pair of blue, form fitting jeans that seem to hug her hips and rear perfectly without being tight.

"Clothes were made to be worn by them. They designed your clothes too, didn't they?" you think.

The strange creature brushes a lock of brown hair behind her ear, and gives you a friendly little wave before turning back to what she was doing.

It was bizarre at first to see so many feminine features on another human, yet now you can't seem to stop looking.

It's like being a curious teenager again. Do human women still smell the world better than males?

She certainly smells nice.

Can they fight their urges like anthros can, or are they all duplicitous home-wreckers like the State says they are?

She's certainly been friendly to everyone.

What's going to happen to her once the occupation becomes permanent?

An uncomfortable realization comes to you, and you lower your head in shame.

You think she's pretty.

The bunny sitting next to you collects your wife's envelope from her pocket and starts counting out old world money on the table.

"Do you think these prices are before or after tax?" She asks nervously. “It's, uh, been a long time since I last ate out."

"We just overthrew their government sergeant. I don't think anyone's collecting taxes right now." Colleen says with a shrug.

"Should we leave a tip?"

"I don't think so…" You say, shaking your head back into the present. “But we always ate what we grew back home. Isn't tipping supposed to be a high-end restaurant thing?"

BB counts out exact change on the table, then starts doing arithmetic on the back of her hand.

"I think we should leave a tip. This might be their first encounter with anthros, and we need to leave a good impression. Humans need to know that anthros care about their well-being!" BB declares patriotically, and solemnly produces a $5 bill from her wallet.

“I'll even leave it in Bismarck money so they know it's safe to use."

You can't help but notice how little change is in Beckett's wallet.

She's sending money back to her parents, isn't she?

"Easy day," says Colleen, and you all get up to leave. "Where to next?"

BB points down the road once you get outside.

"Heard over the radio they want us back on base before 1400. The boots from earlier made another scene and all our passes got revoked."

"Ahh fuck, of course they did. And to think I was looking forward to today…" The roo grumbles, and kicks an old chunk of tarmac down the street.

"I mean, what's there to look forward to? Not much to see on the frontier." You ask.

Colleen puts her arms behind her head and gets a mischievous look on her face. “Oh, you know, cruising for boys. Fun behind the barn. That kinda thing.~" She says with a cheeky wink at you.

“Pavel's a farm boy, so he knows how lonely it gets out in the country.~"

You do, as it happens, know how it is, and she's not wrong.

Cathy always gave you shit for fooling around, but Mama had something of a reputation back in her day.

She never said anything about you rolling in the hay so long as the girl was polite and respectful.

God, you miss them. Maybe you can buy some coffee beans and send them back to the farm.

You imagine the look on Cathy's face when she finally gets a taste of the stuff, and smile.

The ride back to base is no more notable than the ride to town. You wait around the designated rally point with a bunch of annoyed looking troopers, and eventually get stacked into the back of a military cargo truck.

Most of the strangers pay you no mind, but a horned ram you've never seen before licks her lips and cups her breast when you happen to look at her.

"Oh he's cute! You girls bring enough to share with the rest of the class?~" She croons, and almost immediately gets smacked on the back of the head by the corporal sitting next to her.

“You actually use those prongs or somethin'? That's CPT Obmeyer's husband, dumbass! Show some fuckin' respect, he's off limits."

"C'mon Gina, what's the problem? It's not illegal if she never finds out!" The ram laughs, and you realize she's trying to joke her way out of trouble by playing off her comment as sarcastic bravado.

No one is laughing.

“Let's see a show of hands ladies: who's up for taking turns?"

"You fuck your little brother back home, you inbred hick?!" Colleen shouts angrily, and a bunch of the other girls chime in to call the ram an asshole and defend your honor.

She keeps her head down for the rest of the ride, while the more familiar faces chat you up amiably and fawn over how cute you look in your uniform.

BB keeps anyone else from getting too close with a few carefully placed words.

The ride doesn't last long after that, and soon you're pulling off the main road towards the old airport.

Lotte's early departure aside, this has been a pretty good day. Makes you feel really at home knowing that so many on base know who you are and have your back.

The truck comes to a stop a little ways away from the main entrance.

Inspector Goll stands just off to the side, primping herself with a pocket mirror by the entrance to the main terminal, and you immediately think better of trying to go it alone.

"Ah hell."

BB fixes her helmet back on her head, and adjusts her uniform before standing. “Don't engage with her if you don't have to, Pavel. Let me and Colleen run interference."

A solid plan, and one anthros have done for you before.

Unfortunately, any chance of a stealthy escape disappears when Doreen locks eyes with you.

The Inspector, a grown woman in her 40s bordering on her 50s, does her best imitation of a flirty teenager and trots with a skip in her step to the drop off area.

Doreen waves her arms excitedly in the air while everyone else in the truck piles out past you.

"Pavi! Oh my gosh, Pavi it's you!~ AAAAH! You look so handsome!~ I've heard so much and I'm so proud of yooooou!~"

Goll's outdone herself this time, and not in a good way. In addition to the normal amount of homebrew nail polish on her fingers, Doreen has traded in her usual red-fringed variant of Lotte's field uniform for the Inspectorate's bright red street uniform, including an unbuttoned red greatcoat and matching hat, cocked in a deliberately blasé manner.

Your first instinct is to turn and run, but Doreen has you cornered halfway out the back of the truck.

She beckons for you, her arms help wide for a hug that isn't coming.

"Well?~ Don't be shy, come here!~ Mama needs a hug from her little hero!~ I'm so worked up about this, and you're more adorable than ever in your little play-uniform!~"

You worked too hard in nursing school and have disimpacted too many bowels to be treated like this.

BB puts on a big, fake smile and gives you double thumbs up.

_ "I hate this too Pavel!"_ The gesture seems to say, before her eyes flick towards the far side of the runway. “Feed the beast, then we can run like hell!"

Doreen bounces on her hooves excitedly, and you can't help but notice how much jiggle she's got going on.

That must be the hardest working bra in Bismarck, built for a woman two sizes slimmer.

You salute its perseverance, and drop to the ground.

"Suuure…I like hugs."

Goll squashes you against her chest and lifts you into a mandatory struggle-cuddle without missing a beat.

"Oh, my poor baby! What have they made you do? Humans are supposed to be kept safe at home, not get dragged off to war!" She asks with exaggerated worry.

Not something an inspector should really be saying, but who here is going to stop her?

"You don't need to worry anymore, baby. You can stop struggling now, Mommy's here…" she croons into your ear, and nibbles your earlobe in an embarrassingly public display of eroticism. “Mmph, Mama's little man smells like a rose garden in bloom.~"

Beckett looks on from the side with clenched fists.

"Please let go! I need to go to work now!" You say loudly, but Doreen refuses to listen.

Even worse, she shushes you like a parent dealing with an upset child.

"Hush little boy, It's okay. You don't have to pretend to love her anymore. I've got a little getaway ready for just the two of us, and you are just going to love what I have planned for us!~ This is the home stretch, Pavel. We're going to–"

You don't let her finish.

"I SAID LET GO!" You shout, and slip out of the cow's grasp with a few well placed kicks and a skillful dodge to the left.

Doreen tries to catch you as you duck away, but trips on the curb and lands hard on her knees.

A chorus of suppressed laughter rises up from the troopers around her.

One of her boobs has actually popped out of her shirt.

Reality finally penetrates the cloud around Doreen's mind.

"P-Pavi dear, please don't be so dramatic. We're in PUBLIC!" She hisses. “The little nit isn't even here! We have our whole lives to–!"

"For fuck's sake just SHUT UP!" You shout. “I love my wife, I don't love you, AND I NEVER WILL! GO AWAY!"

Doreen Goll slumps her shoulders and stares at you.

You storm off with BB and Colleen by your side.

The Colonel's daughter turns around and flexes her arms as you go, as if daring the cow to try and follow you.

Fuck this, fuck her, and fuck tolerating her bullshit!

The last you see of Inspector Goll is her stuffing a tit back into her shirt while trying to hide a trembling lower lip.

---

One of the evening shift nurses ruffles your hair when you show up looking for Doc Roe.

Regulation says you need to check in with her once back on base, and the nurses direct you to some new conference rooms back in the main terminal.

The place is simple enough to find once you make it to the other side of the crowded old building.

You raise your hand to knock on the door politely, but don't get the chance; Major Charles pulls the doors open just a second before your knuckles touch the door.

"Heeeeeey! There he iiiis!" She says with a too wide smile on her face, and words that last for just a little too long. “Y'know, we were just talking about you, little guy. Why don't you come back here with us? Got some things to talk about."

An ominous shiver rushes through your spine as you enter the meeting room. Three senior officers are waiting inside for you.

Doc Roe, LtCol Clark, and Lotte sit together around an old wooden coffee table, each with a cautiously neutral expression on her face.

Lotte sits alone on a couch opposite the rest, wearing the same impenetrably stony frown she wore on the day you met.

"Corpsman."

"Major." You say hesitantly, then snap into a hasty salute when you remember the other officers.

"At ease Pavel. Please, take a seat." Clark orders calmly, and gestures to a cozy spot next to Lotte.

Your wife doesn't react at all when you sit down and take her hand.

Major Charles's friendly smile wavers subtly.

Doc Roe breaks the silence.

"I want to start this meeting by saying you aren't in any trouble, Pavel. The Inspectorate just announced they're raising Wyoming's safety rating. Doreen doesn't have an excuse to bother you anymore." She begins, and a wave of dread hits you immediately.

Nobody starts a meeting like this unless something very bad is about to happen.

Major Charles nods along with Doc Roe. “That's right. And since the expedition is over, you're free to go back to Ft. Douglas as a civilian, or even stay here as a medic if you want. There's still almost a whole year left on your contract. The choice is yours Pavel, no pressure."

"That's good." You reply, and lick your lips. “I'd have to talk to Lotte first though…"

Your mouth's as dry as cotton right now.

"This wouldn't have been possible, I don't think, if you and Lotte hadn't proven it's safe and useful to have husbands closer to the front. Your sisters are being released and the State has volunteered to bring them to Ft. Douglas."

God above, you can't breathe.

The concerned faces, the eerie silence, the tense atmosphere…

This has happened once before.

You were in your last year of high school. The principal and Cathy started with the same platitudes, and a promise that Jazzmine McCray would leave you alone for the rest of the year.

"Why aren't they going home? What about planting season?" You ask weakly, and Lotte's grip on your hand stiffens.

_ Gospodi pomiluj,_ they're buttering you up.

"Your sisters would be safer here," Roe says neutrally, “and we all agreed it would be appropriate for you to spend some time together as a family."

"What about my Ma?" You say impulsively. “What's happening with her? Is she going to get a court date?"

Roe grimaces and Lotte shudders, but you can't help it.

You prayed and hoped and dreamed it wouldn't happen like this again, that you could be there this time and have a real goodbye, but nothing can stop what you already know you're about to hear.

Your mentor takes a deep breath.

"Pavel, your mother Yekaterina was found unconscious in her cell around 8AM Tuesday morning. A physician was located and emergency treatment was given, but she was pronounced dead that afternoon. I'm so sorry, son."

Your heart shatters. All the color drains from the world.

This isn't real.

"How…?" You ask pitifully. “She– She was perfectly healthy. She wasn't sick, s-she quit smoking ages ago…"

Tears are forming in your eyes, but you can't seem to let them fall.

This is just a mistake, right?

"We aren't sure yet," Roe answers plainly, “but we know she hadn't fed herself for about a week when it happened, and she wasn't given her mandated flu shot."

The flu?! No! That's–

That's not right!

Mama was as strong as ever, and could still raise hell with the best of them when her friends started drinking!

And why the hell would she have stopped eating? She did that after Papa died, but she got over it for Millie!

A sudden wave of anger races through your body.

"Do you know that for certain, or is that just what they told you?" You ask, louder than planned. “Did they starve her for being mouthy or something?! I know how this country works!"

You laugh, and feel the sad frown on your face turn into a sneer.

"It's okay, dearest…" Lotte whispers, and she leans in to try and comfort you physically.

Wrong move. You shove her aside angrily, and rip your hand out of hers.

""Okay!?" I did everything you animals wanted, and you let my mom die in prison? Did you run out of bribe money?!" You shout accusingly, and leap to your feet.

LtCol Clark takes her turn speaking next with the empathetic patience only a mother can bring.

"It was never a matter of money, Pavel. Something terrible and unfair has happened to you, and it's natural for you to be hurting. Everyone here, Lotte included, wants to help you through this however we can."

She…she's not–!

Mama wouldn't…

Why can't Lotte just…?

The look in their eyes says everything you need to know.

Everything goes blurry at once, and the slight hum of a nearby space heater suddenly seems to sound like a deafening roar.

Your wife watches you with real fear in her, and reaches out for you.

"Dearest please, you're crying. I can't watch you hurt, it's killing me!"

Are you? Is that why things are so distorted?

You laugh involuntarily, and slump into her arms.

"I'm sorry Lotte. I just…" you croak.

No one is lying.

There's no bargain you can make to get out of this.

Your mother has died in prison, and you don't have a second soul to sell and bring her back with.

Sorrow flows from your eyes and face.

"I should have fought harder to bring them home instead of playing nurse and wasting time!" you say, and mentally beat the vulnerable parts of your heart.

It's like being a lonely child all over again. You can't hear what anyone's saying anymore, and the tears just won't stop.

The wound in your heart where your family should be has torn itself open again, bloodier and more debilitating than ever before.

At least last time you got to the hospital in time to say goodbye.

You had the chance to smoke a cigarette with him.

You were there to help Papa die.

Now you can't even remember what your last words to Mama were.

A calcified lump of regret forms in your throat, and your body finally forces you to heave.

Roe dives for a strategically placed bucket behind the table, and you empty your stomach into it.

You need to turn this off somehow. Stop the tears, and get a hold of yourself.

Mama wouldn't want this. She would tell you to buck up, say “there's still work to be done, and you'll have plenty of time to cry when the harvest's in."

Except that's not the whole truth, is it?

Mama would give in and hold you when no one was looking because you're her special little man, and she never stopped doting on her only baby, and you need her so badly right now it feels like you're going to die.

Anthros don't take boys seriously, especially not crying ones.

You need to get. A. Grip!

Take a deep breath, count to three, and take back control of yourself.

You can do it.

3…2…1…

Click!

You've done it.

The crying has stopped.

Holy shit, your heart hurts like hell.

Somehow this is worse than bruises or broken bones.

Most of the room has stood up or approached you in some way.

Something soft in your hands. Clark's handkerchief, you think?

Roe is on your left side, and has a hand on your back.

Lotte has you in her arms, and is quietly singing an old hymn to you.

Her voice is beautiful. You've never heard Lotte sing before.

You just…

No. This isn't okay.

These are senior officers. You're a medic in the army. Show them strength.

Get out of here right now.

You finish wiping your face and stand up abruptly.

"I need to go now." You say, and walk out the door.

Lotte follows behind.

"Dearest please! Don't–"

"Just stop, Lotte! I don't want to be around you right now." You say bitterly, and leave your wife behind.

---

The evening is cold and your breath is frigid.

Frost and ice settle over Wyoming Regional Airport as night falls and temperatures slip below freezing again.

You lie alone on the floor of the air traffic control tower, wrapped in a pair of blankets and trying hard to find some kind of peace.

There's a warm cot in a friendly bunk waiting for you in the terminal down below. You could sleep there.

There's a tent full of friendly patients and respectful colleagues who're ready to feed you and say it's not your fault. You could eat there.

People would ask questions though, and try to make you feel better.

You can't risk breaking down again though.

Something has to keep you going, and you've figured out what it is.

Millie. You have to live for her.

Things were bad enough when Papa died. Losing Mama is going to shatter her little world.

It has to be you. Cathy and Sofi are unreliable.

You just need to take back control again. That means being alone.

The room at the top is the same as it was when you left. It's messy, and cold, and more than a little musty, but it's as close to home as you're going to get for who knows how much longer.

They said the farm isn't safe anymore…

People always say the grays and jackboots hate each other, but is it really this bad?

Did the inspectors hurt your family just to spite the army?

You shouldn't have agreed to be their pawn.

Everything Mama and Papa built together is going to rot and fall apart because of a pissing contest between bureaucrats.

What a world you live in.

You lie down on the bundle of blankets you and Lotte shared the night before, and almost immediately regret not grabbing your heavy clothes from your bunk.

The pain has finally gone away. There's no more nagging ache in your heart to make you feel like you're gonna to die.

What's replaced it is this shallow…emptiness, like your life is an old world movie that's come to an end.

That's it. Show's over. Pavel Koslov once was, and now he is no more.

No husband gets to decide his own fate, yet you still dreamed of going home someday.

>Lotte surprises you with a private room on the train to Linton, and you spend the evening eating nice food and making love as the world rattles by.

>Mama greets you at the door with Millie and Sofi, while Cathy skulks around sulkily because she doesn't want to talk to your jackboot wife.

>Millie chatters endlessly about her childhood adventures. Sofiya acts jittery around Lotte, but you get to feel her groom you again with her tongue.

>You help her in the kitchen, just like old times, and everyone shows up for a real family dinner.

>Lotte announces she's finally pregnant, and Mama goes over the moon with joy.

>The other adults at the table share a sigh of relief they're not being badgered to find husbands anymore, and even Cathy is happy to hear to news.

>She's more baby crazy than Mama, though she'll admit it.

>Finally you and Lotte make the pilgrimage to Papa's grave, leave him his evening cigarette, and you smoke the nicotine she can't have while talking about the future you're going to share together.

>You convince Lotte it's time to cash in her pension and retire.

>Cathy and Sofi agree to be bought out of their shares of the farm, and leave to seek their fortunes, coming back every so often for holidays or just to say "Hi!"

>Millie and Mama stay with you on the farm. One gets to grow up with you while the other–

>You raise a warren of bunnies and live happily ever after.

The lights suddenly go out all across Wyoming Regional Airport. How long have you been staring out the window?

Suppose it doesn't matter now.

By some small miracle, you manage to get Lotte's kerosene heater working again. It was just out of fuel.

Maybe she lied about it being broken so you'd cuddle all night long.

The thought makes your heart tremble.

Her space heater soon glows a bright orange, and you get another stupid, childish idea.

You raise the heater up and place it in the window, same as Lotte did last night.

Maybe she'll get the message.

You crawl into bed.

40 minutes or so pass before someone enters the tower.

You wait motionless in your cot with bated breath.

She's coming for you…

Lotte is going to make the pain go away.

Doreen Goll throws the tower door open, panting heavily, dripping with sweat, and leaking makeup down her face.

"Pavel. Y. Koslov. I am DONE letting you play with my feelings!"