‘SEE YOU MORNING’ 062 Lübeck’s Wandering Perception

Emma lay on her side in bed, nursing the child. Lübeck lay behind her, also on his side, his left hand wandering back and forth along the lines of her silhouette—from her waist to her hips, down her thighs, tracing the contours of her body. His face pressed into her long hair, his nose breathing in the scent of her skin.

The pre-industrial society was a period suited for population propagation. After nightfall, there was little else to do; men and women were together only to make children. And Lübeck’s task was precisely to preserve and spread as many seeds of the German populace as possible beyond Earth.

After a while, the child fell asleep. Emma placed him in the cradle, tucked the blanket around him, then turned to Lübeck and whispered shyly, “Suck the other side for our son, would you? It’s so full it hurts.” “Alright,” Lübeck said, shifting downward, pressing his face to her chest. As he admired the texture of her skin and breathed in her scent, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hips, drawing her close. Often, physical distance is emotional distance—so Lübeck always wanted to give those closest to him the most intimate touch, giving Emma all the love he could offer.

By age, Emma’s breasts were already quite full—plump, firm, and befitting her tall, statuesque frame, like a mature adult. Yet she still harbored a heart as pure as a child’s—content, uncompetitive, peaceful, yet playful at times. So much so that when Lübeck buried his head in her embrace, he often felt a strange illusion: unsure whether he was the one giving her love, or if he had been enveloped by Emma’s love instead.

In the pitch-black night, the child cried again. Emma tended to everything, and Lübeck followed her body to hold her. In his dazed state, he even wondered if they should have another child—one might not be enough to rely on in her old age, but seeing how exhausted she was made him reluctant. The thought flashed by, and he fell asleep again without knowing when.

When he woke again, it was broad daylight. Emma and Ruth had prepared breakfast and were chatting softly in the kitchen, waiting for Lübeck to wake up.

After breakfast with the family, Lübeck first took a carriage to the spaceport to inspect the departure readiness of the spacecraft. Accompanied by guards and duty crew, he toured every post on the ship. After the round, Lübeck stopped before the ship’s armory, ordered the soldiers to open it, inspected it personally, then issued the command to clear two-thirds of its space.

After inspecting the ship, Lübeck went to the supply depot, sampling and counting consumables, spare parts, and munitions.

With the ship and supplies checked, Lübeck hurried to the Public Security Force garrison. He obtained the list of personnel ready to depart and those on leave from Trudy, tucked it into his coat, and rushed back to the Town Hall.

The morning had passed; it was already lunchtime when he arrived. Everyone was waiting for him at the table. Lübeck felt a twinge of guilt and quickly called all the staff to start eating. Matters from various sides would have to be discussed over the meal.

“Wilhelm, are the surveyors for the first batch confirmed?” “Confirmed. Some received extra training. Aside from this first mission, we won’t need so many people all at once,” Wilhelm replied. “Good. Kurt, are enough marking stakes prepared for the survey process?” “Enough for the first batch,” Kurt answered. “Good. Await the notice for distribution.”

“How is the situation now? Is it stable? Do we need any adjustments?” Lübeck looked at Müller. “No disputes or unrest so far.” “Any feedback from any quarter? Anything specific we should watch out for in operations?” Lübeck pressed. “Mainly technical issues with surveying—we need operators to master it properly to avoid excessive errors.” “Hmm,” Lübeck murmured, looking into Müller’s eyes. He had hoped Müller might have some firsthand intelligence, but it seemed he wasn’t adept at that. Perhaps he had expected too much of the clerk.

Thinking this, Lübeck added, “To ensure fairness in this work, I think we should publish the surveying methods to everyone—let them understand, so they can supervise the process willingly and effectively.” He scanned each person at the table.

Müller thought for a moment. “Most probably won’t understand it.” “Then let those who are willing and able see and understand,” Lübeck said, adding, “Make a concise engraved print and post it in every commune and gathering place.” “Alright, I’ll arrange that,” Müller said, then glanced at Wilhelm. “This afternoon, I’ll arrange a carriage for you to fetch the surveying lead. We’ll work out how to issue this notice.”

“Hmm,” Lübeck acknowledged, shifting his gaze from Müller to the women handling cooking and chores. He smiled and asked, “Ladies, as representatives, you must speak for your people.” What followed was a chorus of giggles and laughter.

Lübeck did not give up. He continued, “So, what have you heard in the market?” “Georg, who plants fruit trees, says the land he cleared keeps getting taken by neighbors—always with some strong, unfamiliar men. They don’t take much each time, but it happens often. He doesn’t dare say anything because they outnumber him,” Ursula said timidly from the other end of the table.

Lübeck nodded at her as she spoke. When she finished, he turned to Müller. “It seems necessary to have security officers maintain order throughout. I’ll coordinate with Trudy to allocate manpower. You handle the publicity—encourage public participation in oversight, safeguard everyone’s fairness, uphold social justice. What do you think?” “Agreed. I’ll convene the commune representatives afterward to relay this,” Müller replied.

And so, over lunch, opinions were exchanged. When the meal ended, Lübeck skipped his nap and went straight to the Public Security Force garrison to see Trudy. He explained the manpower needs for maintaining order during the upcoming survey. Trudy seemed troubled, hesitating as he spoke. “The number of officers isn’t an issue, but…” Seeing his hesitation, Lübeck encouraged him. “What’s the difficulty? Please speak freely.” “You see, this involves vested interests—especially for families with more assets. In the previous phase, there were already firefights with security officers. To what extent should I support the survey’s order maintenance?”

Lübeck watched Trudy’s expression and smiled faintly. He had been waiting for exactly this question. “Handle it by the law. If anyone resists law enforcement with firearms again, treat it as rebellion. If necessary, I will deploy my own troops to support you.” Lübeck stared into Trudy’s eyes, as if waiting for an answer there. “Alright. It’s time to settle this. These years, Micha…” Trudy caught himself mid-sentence, feeling it improper to speak ill behind someone’s back, and stopped.

Lübeck understood he meant Michael Krause, the former Chief of Public Security, whose tenure had been soft—fostering lawlessness and injustice in society. Lübeck thought for a moment, then cautioned, “Select officers with no vested interest—or those from ordinary backgrounds.” “Understood,” Trudy replied.

Leaving the garrison, Lübeck headed to the spaceport, published the departure roster, arranged final preparations, then took a carriage home.

The route was the same as his return journey last time, yet so much had happened in the days since, and so much was about to happen. Riding in the carriage, watching the crimson sunset glow along the bumpy road, Lübeck reflected on these days’ arrangements. All he wanted was to protect the peace of his home—and the peace of many more homes.