.
December 21, 1929
Potsdammer Platz, Imperial Capital Berun
Berun takes Christmas seriously, Tanya concluded, as she squeezed between other shoppers making their way out of the subway station. She hadn't braved the markets last year, had gone right home to her apartment after work instead. Her warm, private, smoke-free apartment.
She couldn't even have a coffee or hot chocolate while she browsed. Or, she could, but only if she wanted to wear half of it after somebody bumped into her. Dodging bullets was easier.
After shouldering through no less than three other groups, getting her foot stepped on, and avoiding eye contact with someone begging for money, she'd successfully traversed the no-man's-land between the subway exit and the shop she wanted to visit.
Now came the real battle - picking out the right scarf. Unfolding each one to compare the length and feel the material was out of the question. There were too many. She had to attack with a strategy.
First, she'd ignore everything pink. Assuming someone wanted clothes in that color just because they were female was thoughtless. Even if Tanya suspected her friend would like it. Second, no silk. Visha wasn't a Christmas tree. She didn't need to be decorated. She'd appreciate a functional item that would keep her warm more than anything else, though Tanya would admit some personal bias might have leaked into that assumption.
The third category she'd eliminate was anything with bright colors or heavy patterns. Choosing one of those came down to a question of style, and she couldn't trust her fashion sense as a guide. Plain black or gray was good enough for her.
With those rules in mind, her quest began. Fifteen minutes later, she was ready to admit defeat. There were still too many. Too many materials, too many colors, too many lengths, too many types of knitting. Fringe or no fringe? That was the question. And this was only one quarter of one stall. There had to be at least two more scarf-sellers in the maze erected yearly around Berun's busiest intersection.
A quick mental calculation told her she was better off picking something good enough instead of searching for the best. She might be able to get more value for her money if she took her time, but her time was also valuable. To gather enough data on her different options and make a truly informed decision would take days. To pick something of decent quality that was dyed in a normal pattern would take a few minutes.
Scanning the booth, her eyes landed on a checked gray and red scarf. She ran her fingers along it to make sure it was heavy enough to be warm and wasn't too scratchy, then handed it off to the clerk for wrapping.
It was a short walk to the hospital, and not too late to visit just yet. Visiting hours would be over soon though, so she dropped in on Visha as soon as she'd paid. Her former adjutant would be under anesthesia over the holiday, so waiting until Christmas Eve would be impossible. Plus, there was no reason to take two trips when one would do.
"Tanya!" Visha exclaimed, closing the book she was reading and looking up at her.
"Sorry to intrude," she replied, silently cursing herself for not having considered that earlier. Imposing on others because it fit her schedule was an uncivilized way of conducting social calls. If she were in Visha's shoes, she wouldn't appreciate an unannounced interruption to her evening.
"No, I'm glad you came," Visha replied, gracious as ever. "I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas before I go in for treatment again. Make sure you do something nice for yourself."
"I plan to," Tanya confirmed, wondering if Visha didn't know her a little too well at this point. Was she really so easy to read that the other woman could predict that festive celebrations weren't in her future?
Her response was a bit of a lie, but she didn't need Visha worrying herself. She didn't have anything specific in mind yet, but she'd make sure to indulge in one of life's little pleasures, even if was just soaking in the tub while picking out logical flaws in Being X's sacred text. That was guaranteed to put her in the right spirit, though perhaps not the Christmas spirit, per se.
"Well, I came by to drop this off," she continued, pulling the gift out of her bag.
Visha took the package and hugged it to her chest, which left Tanya wondering over the strangeness of Western gifting traditions yet again. She didn't realize such profuse displays of excitement were expected. Apparently, tearing into the wrapping like you suspected solid gold underneath was the next step in signaling your appreciation.
"Thank you," Visha said, winding the scarf around her neck, making her now-long hair puff out over the top.
You idiot, Tanya berated herself, for not realizing that asking a thirty-something man for his opinion on gifts would trend too close to her own ideas of what was good. Why would she need that when the back of her neck isn't exposed?
"Your hair's too long," she muttered.
"Ah...oh. You - you don't like it?"
Really, she didn't care about other people's haircuts. Unless it was remarkably hideous, she didn't tend to take note. Washing and combing long hair was impractical, but Visha was a woman, so it suited her just fine. It made her look more refined, like a princess out of one of those storybooks she liked.
"For the scarf," Tanya clarified. "You don't need it to keep your neck warm."
"It still makes a difference," Visha contradicted. "And I'd like it either way; it's perfect. It can go with any outfit. I'm just sorry I don't have anything for you."
"You owe me ten cups of coffee when you're released," Tanya said, with a smile at the thought, standing up to leave. "And if any of them aren't as good as I remember, you'll have to remake all of them."
"Yes, ma'am," Visha said, giving her a mock salute along with her best shot at a serious face. "I'll report for duty as soon as possible. Please leave it to me so you can relax, and have a Merry Christmas."
December 24, 1929
General Staff Office, Imperial Capital Berun
Winter sunsets came early in Berun. Not that they were generally visible behind the curtain of clouds that took up residence in the sky from November through February. There were only about eight hours to the day at the shortest point of the year, so when the obscured sun passed its midday zenith, it wasn't long until the muted light began to recede, to be replaced by the glow of streetlights and lamps.
Almost on the verge of switching his own tableside lamp on, Brigadier General von Lehrgen paused. It was Christmas Eve, a day to leave at a reasonable hour if there ever was one.
Unless there was something of utmost importance to accomplish, those who hadn't taken the day off traditionally left not long after lunch to get home to their families, light their trees, listen to the pastor berate them for not attending church more often, and unwrap their gifts. Even though he had nothing of the sort to do, remaining at the office until the usual time might make his subordinates worry that there was an issue keeping him there.
Some would ask and learn there wasn't, which would earn him a look of pity for having devoted himself so completely to work that he'd forgotten the simpler pleasures of family, friends and faith. Others wouldn't say a word, would stay until the day was done out of politeness or expectation, silent and resentful that they'd been kept at their desks for no good reason, unable to leave until their boss had.
Remain or leave, there was one employee his decision would have no impact on. She'd stay until her assigned hours were up and perhaps past, assiduously laboring away like her work was a Christmas present unto itself. After last year, he couldn't even count on her to keep away from the office the following day.
Undesiring of enduring another round of undeserved blame for forcing her to work on a holiday so important it was observed continent-wide, he knocked on Tanya's door on his way out and told her to get going herself.
"I'm in the middle of something," she said, not looking up. "I'll leave in a few hours. And anyway, with a rebellion still in progress, it's better if someone's here if a call comes. I don't have anything particular planned so you don't need to worry you're keeping me."
Oh. Right. She had no family and her only friend in the entire city was recovering in a hospital. Lehrgen might not have anyone to get home to, but he'd lived in Berun for years, and had at least a few friends who could be counted on to open their home if he so desired. He even had distant relatives sprinkled throughout the city. None that he was close with, but he could always call on that eccentric second cousin if he was feeling desperate.
"Degurechaff, you can't spend Christmas at the office," he sighed.
"I still plan on taking tomorrow off," she said defensively.
"Unless you're in the middle of devising a universal cure to disease, it can wait," he told her. "I don't need it looking like I'm overworking you. And tomorrow's a holiday as well, so if you don't have anything important for Friday, you can take the rest of the week."
"Alright," she agreed, beginning to clean up her desk. "Home it is."
"Head over to Gendarmenmarkt and buy yourself something tomorrow," he added, remembering his resolution to encourage her towards a normal life. "It's good to get out sometimes."
"I do hope you're taking your own advice," she chuckled, with a knowing smile.
Coming from anyone else, he would have accepted that criticism with good humor. But of all people, Tanya thought he needed to get out more? Tanya? Was he really so bad about it that even she'd noticed?
"I'll be at The Adlon," he muttered, wincing at the petulance that leaked into his tone.
The look of surprise she gave him was almost offensive. He did have friends, thank you very much. Most of them would be celebrating at home with their families, but in a city as big as Berun, there were always bound to be enough people who couldn't or didn't want to make it back to the countryside, or, like him, had no easily accessible family remaining, so would gather in the city's finest hotel so as not to spend Christmas entirely alone.
"I hear their restaurant is the best in the city," she commented.
"It is, and for what they charge it better be," he laughed.
"I never thought I'd be able to get in," she said obliquely.
…Is she really about to invite herself? he groaned internally, sensing from her expectant posture that indeed she was. He remembered that back when she'd been on training detail two years ago she'd jumped at the chance to get free meals, but this level of forwardness was considerable even for her.
He did want Tanya to expand her horizons and get to know the world outside the Army, but that didn't extend to wanting her to ruin his Christmas. There was enough of a social club at The Adlon that they could each drift their separate ways through the crowd once he got her through the door to the private ballroom, but knowing that she was in the immediate vicinity he wouldn't have the night he planned - one of drinking, dancing, and deep conversation with old friends and acquaintances that he'd neglected for too long. He had a trump card for denying her, though. Tanya was not a woman of many weaknesses, but he knew of at least one.
"Yes, well, unfortunately they aren't going to take a woman who isn't in a dress, so you'll have to content yourself with imagining the menu," he said, giving her a fake look of regret.
"Oh," she exclaimed, feigning surprise, "so you're saying if I had one…?" she asked, leaving the question hanging.
Lehrgen looked surreptitiously at his watch and felt a sense of triumph. Even if she wanted to buy herself something appropriate last minute, she was too late.
"Pity," he drawled, "but I do believe the stores are all closed by now."
"That's not a problem," she said hastily. "Ugar's wife sent about a thousand home with me."
If Lehrgen had been given a million guesses, he didn't think he'd have ever expected that clothing was what had been in the box shipped to the office while she was away. He briefly wondered what sort of ogre Frau Ugar was if she'd strong-armed Tanya into an all-day shopping trip, but then returned his thoughts to his own predicament.
If she wanted to go so badly she'd be willing to put on that most dreaded piece of attire, he practically had to take her. After all, he had been the one that insisted she get out of the office, and the way he'd phrased his refusal had ended up backfiring on him so sensationally it was hard to imagine how it could have gone worse. I'll find a few people who are trustworthy enough not to get completely taken in by her and leave her with them once we're through the door, he resolved. If he was lucky, one of the wealthy patrons would offer her too much money to switch jobs to turn down.
"Well," he replied, defeated more thoroughly than the Imperial Army had ever been, "I can get you in if you meet me in the lobby at seven."
She frowned. "You can't pick me up?"
And...why would I do that? he nearly asked. On the verge of refusing her, he recalled the difficulty that walking in heeled shoes had given her the only time he'd seen her try. She probably wouldn't make it to the end of her block on her own, and if she didn't live near any hotels, finding a cab could prove difficult on such a night.
"I'll stop by on my way," he sighed. "Write down your address and be ready by 6:45."
At least if there was one thing he could count on her for, it was not to be late.
December 25, 1929
Lichterfeld, Imperial Capital Berun
I should have these organized better, Erich von Lehrgen told himself for the ninth year in a row, turning through each cufflink in his collection to find the match for the one already on his left arm.
Every year he promised himself he'd put them all back into their individual boxes so the pairs remained together and he never again had to upend a velvet bag on a table and spill every piece he owned out. Every year, it only grew worse. One way or another, he'd acquire a new set, adding them to the already voluminous collection. Some were heirlooms, some were gifts, others the product of a rare personal indulgence which somehow always resulted in him purchasing a new set to be stashed away and never seen again instead of investing in something more practical.
Two-thirds of the way through the pile, he came upon the design he'd been looking for and hurriedly threaded it through his right sleeve. Pausing for a quick look in the mirror and straightening his white bowtie, he grabbed a light coat, the day unseasonably warm, and dashed out the door of his house, almost forgetting to grab the house key before he left, already seven minutes late for the taxi he'd arranged.
When possible, he always built in extra time to his schedule, five or ten minute buffers to account for the minor inconveniences that popped up, so he arrived in front of Tanya's apartment building exactly when he'd planned. There was no need to press the buzzer to call her down. As soon as he got out of the car, the door to her building opened and she walked out.
He wasn't sure if he was more relieved or more disappointed that she was dressed basically appropriately. Without Viktoriya's help there was no makeup and her hair wasn't styled, just brushed with more care than usual, but she wouldn't be turned away at the door. If she'd come out in something other than her staid but elegant dress, it could have provided him with an excuse to leave her at home.
As soon as she closed the door to the car, she began quizzing him on who she could expect to meet, their names, their backgrounds, their professions. She was so interested, in fact, that he began to wonder if the meal was of secondary importance to who she'd meet. Already looking to make connections for when you take back your career as an officer, are we? he thought, gamely giving his best guesses on who would be in attendance tonight.
For any other subordinate officer whose career he'd taken a personal interest in, Lehrgen would've made every attempt at making introductions with the right people. Come meet Herr Schmidt, his company manufactures orbs. And there's Herr Schieder who we've just agreed to purchase a new line of rifles from. Don't forget Herr Fischer, he controls half the port of Amburg. For Tanya, he would need to be more selective.
They arrived and pulled up in front of the exterior of the hotel, which was nothing ostentatious. The modesty ended in the lobby. It was hard to know where to look with the frescoes and paintings and gold detailing. There were salons large and small for hotel guests on the main floor, several of which functioned as informal clubs accessible to those who had been invited to pay the dues. He had a childhood friend to thank for putting him on the right list when he'd first made the city his permanent residence. The expense it cost him was more than made up for by the convenience of not having to arrange a dinner to see each and every person he kept up with.
Tonight, the size of the event would require one of the ballrooms instead. By the time he was giving his name to the liveried attendant at the door, Lehrgen hadn't come up with a good solution to who he could safely introduce to Tanya. Bankers, lawyers, journalists, academics - they all wielded some degree of power and could be influenced by the wrong words out of her. They were better than the more politically-focused alternatives, though, so when Lehrgen spotted Werner Hochstetter, the heir to a small but exclusive bank whom he'd shared a few drinks with in the past, he didn't hesitate to engage him in conversation.
To his shock, Tanya began to chat animatedly, the habitual terse manner she took when asked about any subject besides her work hidden behind a mask of ebullience that soon pulled nearby ears into a circle around her. That arrangement suited him perfectly, making it simple to quietly ease away and search for a few friends. He'd only have to find her again once he was ready to call it a night.
On second thought, there were plenty of cabs waiting out front. She could leave on her own. His only job was to pick up a cocktail off one of the trays circling around and keep an occasional eye out to make sure she wasn't up to anything.
Too sweet, he thought, taking his first sip of punch and scanning the room to see who he knew. The drink had grown on him by the third sip, when he identified Bruno von Hammerstein by his short stature and shock of black hair. He was a close friend to his elder brother, and never failed to regale his audience with the adventurous tales of his time spent running through the jungles of the Southern Continent building his business empire. Lehrgen hadn't seen him since the war ended, but judging by the tanned face and sharp new suit, he hadn't let the demise of their colonies stop him.
"Erich," Hammerstein called out in that booming voice of his when he noticed him approaching. "I would address you by your title but it changes each time I see you."
"Not on the Southern Continent anymore I take it?"
"No, no, I got out of there before I lost everything."
"The family's back in Berun, then?"
"I had some business to take care of here, but they're all at our new home in Madinah."
"Isn't that dangerous? Magna Rumeli could topple any day."
"And I intend to profit from it," Hammerstein said with a dark grin. "Who's the girl you handed off to Hochstetter?"
"You know the name Tanya Degurechaff?"
"I have read a newspaper in the past two years. Republican journalists still haven't tired of comparing anyone they don't like to her. I suppose our national hero can't be as bad as they say if you've brought her out of whatever cage you all keep her in."
"She did earn her reputation," Lehrgen emphasized, before clarifying that he hadn't brought her there of his own volition. "And I didn't get much of a choice."
"Hard to reinstate her as an officer without cleaning up some of the bad rumors?" Hammerstein guessed. "Having a few influential outsiders with good opinions of her isn't a bad idea. I'll try to let that be known as I make the rounds."
That explanation was less embarrassing than admitting Tanya had duped him into providing a foothold for her social climbing, so he'd go with it if anyone else asked.
"Anyway, what's it like out in the Arabian lands? Is it as exotic as it sounds?" Lehrgen questioned, switching the subject back.
With a gleam in his eye, Hammerstein leaned in closer. When his first words were "don't tell my wife, but…" Lehrgen knew he was in for a proper story, so grabbed a second glass of punch and prepared to listen to the annals of a life far more interesting than his own.
Not long after the clock struck nine, another old friend that he was in the midst of catching up with turned his head in Tanya's direction for the umpteenth time.
"Do you want me to introduce you?" he finally asked.
"I thought you'd never offer. It's not often I get the chance to debate insurance regulations with someone without boring them to death, and from what I'm hearing, she could give any academic a run for his money. Talk around the room is there's a fair few who wouldn't mind seeing her here again."
With a sigh, Lehrgen acquiesced and began making his way over. This was not the first, second, or even third friend who'd drifted away from him and gravitated towards Tanya, who was commanding her corner of the room with the same efficacy as she'd commanded her battalion. It all felt very unfair. He was glad she was meeting people, she did need more friends, but she couldn't very well have his. He wanted to shake all of them and shout, Please don't let her fool you, she isn't like this all the time!
When he got close enough that he could actually see her, she was valiantly trying to escape from none other than Bruno von Hammerstein, who was attempting to convince her to join him for a dance on the central part of the floor. That's guaranteed to make a spectacle, Lehrgen thought with a shake of his head. Can they not tell that she's barely moved because standing in heels is the limit of her ability?
He couldn't have her making a fool of herself, much as it might be gratifying to see. Public humiliation would only make her cling tighter to the safe harbor she'd found in the General Staff Office. And anyway, he didn't want to have to call an ambulance for Hammerstein after she broke his ankle.
"Leave her be," he admonished, separating the two and pulling Hammerstein aside. "Unless you're feeling especially brave."
"I thought the idea was to make her seem a less menacing character," he replied with good humor. "If she's here to help her climb the ranks, she needs people to think her refined instead of savage."
"Well, that's why she thinks she's here," Lehrgen agreed. "Personally, I'm hoping she'll agree to become something other than an officer one day."
Hammerstein's face lit up eagerly at the allusion to a more complex game being played. He was something of a hobbyist when it came to following rivalries.
"Don't go letting her know I have other intentions," Lehrgen warned a second later. He wouldn't put it past Hammerstein to concoct a drama for himself to watch unfold.
"So you have your own reasons for wanting to introduce her to society, then. I wouldn't have expected it out of you."
"Her case is different," he defended himself. He'd always enjoyed a good reputation among the officers, wasn't one given to professional backstabbing. It wouldn't do to have anyone think this was going to become a habit of his.
"Having met her now, I can agree. I don't blame you for it. If I overhear anyone's interested in her I'll give them a discreet hint. Either way, you can't keep her from ever having to dance with another person," he said, clapping Lehrgen on the shoulder with a wink.
That's true, he considered, turning back towards Tanya, rather pleased with the result of his intervention if Hammerstein was going to start keeping his ear out for those who might be interested in offering Tanya a new job. If I want her to make a good impression, she will have to fit in with the right crowd.
"Thank you," Tanya said, shuffling over to him and interrupting his thoughts.
"You will have to learn one day, you realize. I can think of at least one person who'd be happy to teach you if you'd like."
Even better than having a friend who would teach her, Lehrgen had someone he felt nothing but personal enmity for in mind. The thought of Klaus Hornig having a professional crisis over his inability to reform Tanya into a graceful lady was so delightful it counted as a Christmas gift to himself.
"Maybe one day," she deflected. "For now, I think I'd rather be introduced to the menu."
What? No one else offered to feed her yet? Lehrgen agonized as he realized that he was being led over to a table with a few open chairs. He'd counted on one of her newfound acquaintances paying for her, so it was an unwelcome surprise. It's not that he couldn't afford it, but he'd prefer not to further devastate his evening by sitting through a meal with Tanya. She wouldn't do it intentionally, but she had such a unique perspective on most subjects that it didn't make for easy table talk.
She waved down a waiter, and shortly, they were in possession of the card containing the night's specialties, from which she proceeded to order the single most expensive item. Lehrgen had to order something light for himself instead of the lamb he'd planned on having since it had less of a chance of turning sour in his stomach when Tanya inevitably said something disquieting. He included with it a glass of the best wine they had, declining to order a bottle to split and bump her portion of his bill higher.
Before she had the chance to think up a topic that would leave his head spinning until New Year's, he brought up a subject that had been on his mind of late.
"Are you still visiting Ms. Serebryakov twice a week?" he asked.
She nodded.
"How is she doing?" he continued, after she offered no further information on her own.
"Better, actually. She'll have trouble walking for a while yet, but her mental state is improving rapidly. The doctor thinks she'll get back to normal eventually," Tanya replied.
"Well, that's…good to hear," he said, chewing on his words carefully. Come to think of it, he wasn't entirely positive how well-educated Tanya was on certain facts of life, and he certainly wasn't going to ask, so he had to dance lightly around the subject. "I hope she can put whatever happened in the past two years behind her."
"It wasn't…nothing happened, really," she clarified, clearing her throat. "Due to being the only female she was by herself the whole time, and it got to her head."
"Ah," was all he said to that fortuitous piece of news. "Do you know when she'll be released from the hospital?"
Tanya shrugged. "In the next few months, probably."
"And what then? I can't imagine she's going to be ready for work again so soon," he said worriedly.
Of course, he was worried about Viktoriya's future for her own sake, but for now he had another job in mind for her. He needed her help to encourage Tanya into becoming a halfway-normal human being, so it would be a problem if she became otherwise occupied.
Tanya brought her arms up and crossed them with an unhappy sigh. "She'll have to move back in with her relatives for now. They both lost their jobs after the war so they're in some village or other two hours outside the city. I'm not sure how Visha'll ever look for work from there."
"That's...disappointing," Lehrgen grimaced.
"The Army will stay pay for her medical care, but once she's out of the hospital she'll be on her own for housing and food," Tanya spat. "She was a conscript injured in the line of duty and through no choice of her own she'll be made practically homeless. Even if my budget allowed for it, my neighborhood wouldn't be the safest for someone like her. The Communist Party has too much of a presence in the central parts of Berun to make it easy living for a former Rus noble who can't walk without help. You wouldn't be able to make an appeal to anyone who deals with that type of case, would you?"
"I can't," he said, shaking his head. "I wish I could tell you different, but there's a million others with the same story, we don't have the money to feed and clothe and house them all, however unfair that seems."
Tanya hummed in disappointment. "I was hoping to keep her around. She won't be easy to replace."
Try impossible to replace, Lehrgen thought with amusement. Another woman that Tanya respected enough to call a friend and who, even more amazingly, wanted to be called Tanya's friend? There might not be another one if they searched the world over.
It was refreshing to hear that Tanya had a few bones to pick with the military, which could perhaps be exploited in the future to separate her from it, but for now, the news that Viktoriya would be moving out of Berun in the near future was putting a serious dent in Lehrgen's personal crusade to make Tanya too attached to her everyday life to ever consider ruining it in favor of going to war again. It might even embitter her against the world further.
"You're right that someone should take responsibility for what happened to her," he began, the offer he intended to make a strange one, but a necessary sacrifice. It would be easier than finding Tanya a new friend, and perhaps cheaper than paying someone to spend time with her after they realized how ornery she could be. "If you found her an apartment I could put up the funds. Consider it my apology for authorizing the order that almost ended both your lives."
"I was the one who asked you to do it," Tanya replied with a humorless sniff of laughter.
"I could have fought harder to have you reassigned north during those last weeks," he admitted. "I owe it to both of you. Find her something decent in a good area."
She shook her head and he saw her fist clench around her knife. Hopefully that wasn't a sign he was in imminent danger of being stabbed. He'd forgotten to consider that she might get angry with him for not having taken her side more strongly when it counted most; if so, his offer of help was going to turn into an argument.
"I should've tried harder too," she muttered. "I didn't want to get in trouble over my attitude like I did after the evacuation at Brest, but if I'd just-,"
"Degurechaff," he interrupted her, "you tried your best to warn us on more than one occasion. You did more than enough."
Her mouth slightly ajar, she looked completely at a loss for words. It was the same as how she'd acted after she'd made a minor judgment error in Norden and let the enemy ships escape, as if to her not doing everything was the equivalent of doing nothing. He felt the weight of pity well up in his chest for a person who couldn't stand for anything less than perfection.
"I'll look for an apartment for her when it's time," she said quietly after a moment. "Thank you."
Their food arrived shortly afterwards and shook them out of the unhappy subject matter they'd fallen into, the conversation turning to easier topics, which it thankfully didn't stray from for the remainder of the evening, so he didn't even think to complain when she ordered them each a dessert and then ate both portions herself. When it was time to leave, some of the lightness to his step could be attributed to things other than alcohol. He was finally making appreciable progress on his most intractable problem.
—
If someone would ever like to write a book on how to leverage your social network, I humbly invite them to come interview me. Just look at what a difference cultivating the right friendship makes. Humans really do make their own luck.
I'll be the first to admit I made a mistake in seeking out General von Romel when I originally took my job search to the General Staff Office. It's natural to think the person at the top will prove the most useful, but let this be a lesson that it isn't always so. Aside from being easy to work with, judging by my current situation, Lehrgen has a wider network of academically-minded professionals he keeps in touch with than Romel. It's no surprise that he also sees the value in keeping up useful relationships outside of politicians and other officers.
Let the success of my time here tonight also remind everyone that getting ahead requires doing things you'd prefer to avoid. Making small talk might be mind-numbing, but it's an invaluable tool for convincing people that you care about the minutiae of their lives. I don't like playing the sympathy card, but once I learned that a close friend rubs shoulders with everyone who's anyone at the city's premiere hotel, I had no choice but to play on his guilt over the fact that this is the first Christmas I get to enjoy.
It was a bit embarrassing to ask to be driven to dinner, but my experience walking in any sort of heel is severely lacking. I almost fell on the way in, and my face burned in shame when my unlucky companion caught me before I sprawled on the ground. But, I put aside my personal qualms on such matters, and it has borne delicious fruit.
First off, I met several extremely useful connections before dinner. I did my best to leave a good impression on them, but the best case scenario would be if I can follow it up with future contact. I wouldn't want to be forgotten. I'll see if my benefactor is amenable to bringing me by a few more times. It might seem like there would be nothing in it for him, but if I continue to make a good name for myself, it will reflect well back on him. He understands the value of a good reputation if the name he's made for himself is any indication. I'm sure he'd like to believe that I'm working to establish some social capital to enhance my career as an officer, and if it's necessary, I'll imply that I might be open to changing my mind on that matter. As long as I keep it to references about this evening's importance to the future of my career, it won't even be a lie.
It's easy to get along with someone who thinks the same way you do when it comes to what's important. From the day I was hired, I had high hopes that becoming friendly with the person sitting next to me would yield results. "I will ensure your compensation matches your value" are words that everyone can rejoice in hearing. There's no better relationship than one rooted in mutual trust in the other's ability to uphold their end of a bargain. It's almost enough to make me not want to look for another job in a few years. My résumé should be rife with worthwhile work by then, and tonight I have met bankers, lawyers, and politicians who might consider hiring me if I am diligent in keeping in contact with them.
I wouldn't leave my current work undone though, so to assuage the guilt I feel over abandoning the very person responsible for kicking off what is sure to be a stellar career, I've applied myself to the best of my abilities and am keeping longer hours than I'd like to. As a former salaryman, I still find it almost impossible to leave the office before my boss, and unfortunately he likes to work late. For my own peace of mind, I should encourage him to get out more. Appreciation for the finer things in life is what makes us human, after all.
My only regret is that it will be hard to find another superior who is so willing to put up with mistakes. Hearing someone say I'd done enough, despite the fact that in the end I'd done nothing but fail miserably, shocked me so much I didn't know how to respond. It shouldn't surprise me, I suppose, given that Lehrgen didn't consider the front a good atmosphere for a child from the very start. He can't bring himself to blame me for losing my last battle, and possibly the entire war as a result, when I shouldn't have been there at all.
After his generous offer to shoulder the burden of Visha's expenses, I almost felt I should warn him that being too charitable often ends up in being taken advantage of, but I wouldn't want him to become less open-handed with me as well. And after all, helping each other is what friends do. There's no point in having a friend who isn't useful, so it's only natural that I accept the benefits that come along with it. I'll just have to make sure he doesn't mysteriously end up with the spare key to Visha's apartment.
All in all, I can only describe tonight as a meteoric success. And the proverbial cherry on top is that I got to eat exquisite food entirely for free. I'm feeling so benevolent I'll even join in the holiday cheer. I'd like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and most of all, a Merry Christmas to me.
A/N The score of today's match was Tanya: +2000 career points; Lehrgen: -2000 deutschmarks. Looking back at this day exactly two years into their future, it will be Tanya: +2000 calories; Salaryman: minus infinity; Lehrgen: minus 10 years lifespan; Being X: dies, but dies laughing.
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Io Saturnalia to everyone out there! Some Christmas music to get you in the mood [Jingle Hell; Verse 1]
I just can't say no
When she wants to ruin my day
Over my objections she goes
Laughing all the way
She's the last girl I want to bring
Out with me tonight
My abject failure really stings
It's filling me with spite
Oh...Jingle Hell, Jingle Hell, she even made me pay
Won't someone please take Tanya from me, she won't fucking go away