‘SEE YOU MORNING’ 058 Deputy Sheriff Trudy

Ruth took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. After a brief pause, she rolled over, intending to get up.
"Ruth, lie down a while longer," Lübeck said. "We had fish last night; there’s no rush to cook this morning."
At his words, Ruth pulled the covers back over herself and turned toward him. Lübeck drew her head against his chest. Her hair—which should have been tenderly cared for—still carried the faint scent of last night’s campfire smoke. For years, she had stood silently by Lübeck’s side, tending to his daily needs with unwavering loyalty and without complaint. Deep in his heart, Lübeck had always held profound gratitude for her.
As dawn lightened the sky, Lübeck thought over the day’s tasks and sat up, wrapped in the blanket. He looked down at Ruth lying beside him, her head slightly turned toward him. Her deep-set eyes, curved like crescents, reminded him of the crescent moon above the dark rooftops of his old homeland—a companion that had followed him all the way here.
Lübeck gently brushed her hair aside: one lock tucked behind her ear, revealing the quiet happiness at the corner of her lips and the warmth in her gaze.
"Rest a little more," Lübeck murmured, his knuckles grazing her brow bone, fingertips lightly touching her cheek. As his hand passed over, Ruth’s smile flickered into view. Lübeck turned his head toward the dawn outside the window, as if she were the sun rising in his own heart.
The security force was a military unit also stationed at the spaceport. Early that morning, after stopping briefly at the town hall, Lübeck took a carriage to the security forces’ headquarters. Entering the office, he found Deputy Sheriff Trudy Koch already there, having just finished her shift handover with the Chief Security Officer, Michael Krause.
"Good morning, Trudy. Has Michael gone home on leave?" Lübeck asked.
"Yes, he left right after our handover this morning," Trudy replied.
"How is he? Holding up?"
"He’s just under a lot of stress."
"How so?"
"The men are unhappy with his enforcement style."
"Yes, he’s a good man," Lübeck agreed.
"But this time, several officers were wounded. Protocol allows us to fire first, but he didn’t give the order. The Schmidt family thought we were reinforcing their side and opened fire on our people."
"Mm." As she spoke, Lübeck thought of the more seriously injured officer. He wondered how the man was doing.
"So the men feel his poor command led to multiple injuries. There’s private grumbling, and Michael has heard some of it. That’s why he’s stressed," Trudy continued.
"I see. Letting him take some time away until things settle down is for the best. But I heard from the men on scene—they identified themselves clearly, yet the Schmidts didn’t cease fire. Is that correct?"
Trudy nodded.
"That’s exactly what happened. I questioned the officers present individually. The Schmidts acted like they owned the place, flaunting their rifles. They didn’t seem to take law enforcement seriously at all." She paused, looking directly at Lübeck.
Their eyes met. Lübeck gave a slight shake of his head.
"Indeed. Ever since settling here, firearms haven’t been banned—people keep them for wildlife defense and home protection." He held Trudy’s gaze. "What if I call a council meeting? You could report on this, and we propose a ban on long guns?"
"I think that works," Trudy agreed readily.
"Then I’ll move forward with it. I expect it to pass. Start preparing for the collection process, alright?"
"Understood."
"Alright, that’s settled for today."
Back at the town hall, after lunch, Lübeck rested in his office. Half-reclined in his chair, he drifted into a half-doze. In his daze, the office door opened, and a young man entered. His features were indistinct, unfamiliar. Lübeck tried to focus, to see his face clearly, but it was a struggle.
The man approached, leaning over until his white shirt filled Lübeck’s vision—yet his face remained unseen.
Just as the young man seemed about to press down on him, Lübeck instinctively reached out to push him back. With a sudden jolt, his foot struck the desk. He woke with a start—it had been a dream.
Clearing his thoughts, Lübeck returned to yesterday’s discussion with Müller. He headed to Müller’s office. The door was open; Müller was organizing folders.
Lübeck hesitated at the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt. Müller noticed him.
"Something on your mind?"
"No, carry on," Lübeck replied vaguely.
"It’s fine, come in. Yesterday, I visited some communes." Müller produced some notes, handing them to Lübeck. "These are records from nearby communes—cases with significant disputes or large landholdings involving multiple owners."
Lübeck took the documents and sat across from Müller. He placed them on the desk, flipping through page by page, noting names and locations, searching for patterns—some simple solution to the problem.
When Lübeck had finished, Müller remarked, "Actually, the disputed cases mostly involve families with many adult sons, or clans with considerable power."
"I see. The new generation has grown up." Lübeck pondered for a moment. "Perhaps we should break up the large clans, making them into smaller, independent households—the basic units of society."
Müller considered. "That could work. But how would we implement it?"
"We’d need housing for these smaller household units," Lübeck mused. "But we’d also need them to want to move out of the clan compounds."
"Urbanization," Müller added.
"Yes." Lübeck answered simply, staring at Müller as he sank into thought. Urbanization meant developing non-agricultural industries, advancing education and technology. In the complex social web that would follow, Lübeck wasn’t confident he could maintain stability.
Setting aside these future visions for now, Lübeck lifted the files in his hand. "I’ll take these downstairs and ask them to start compiling statistics."
After finishing what he could for the day, Lübeck returned home early. He found Ruth in the backyard, feeding the chickens. From a distance, her black fitted top stood out against the desolate landscape, outlining her graceful figure. Bending over, she scattered kitchen scraps into the trough, shifting her weight from one leg to the other to spread the food evenly. Her pleated skirt swayed with the movement of her hips.
He walked up behind her. Hearing footsteps, she turned, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. Seeing Lübeck, she straightened up, facing him.
"I’m back," Lübeck said, already pulling her into his arms. It felt as though the morning’s parting had lasted an eternity, and he needed to reconnect that broken thread of longing.
After a moment, Ruth gently pushed him back, her voice soft.
"Aren’t you going to see Emma?" Her deep, dark eyes were full of tenderness.