Dear Diary,

My old ROTC Sergeants told me that a shit ton of military life was 'hurry up and wait'. I've since learned that not only are they right, but that as an officer, since it's my fucking job to organize the schedules? I not only get 'hurry up and wait', I get to tell other people when to hurry up, and when to wait.

Weird thing, I'm really starting to grok the 'why' of it. I mean, yeah, some of it is people like me who are piss poor at organizing schedules. Even I've begun to realize a couple things though. First, a lot of the things military people do need to be started as soon as possible and completed as fast as possible. To use the most gruesome example possible, if you're got reserves waiting for an opening, or troops waiting to spring an ambush, or anything like that, when the opening happens or when the enemy walks into the kill box? You need to seize that opening before it closes, or neutralize as many of the enemy as possible before you lose the element of surprise. Anything else is just gonna waste time and get people killed.

That much is just kinda common sense, but the other half I'm only now starting to get. Somebody waiting for that moment is gonna gradually tire out from tension and shit, but not nearly so much as they would tire out from digging trenches, putting up barricades, or any other kind of physical labor. In point of fact, even though staying ready to move any second is mentally tiring, you can still catch your breath, maybe get a little bit physically rested while waiting. Which means if you gotta dig out spots to hide in for that ambush, you want that done as quick as possible so that you can settle down and rest up for as long as possible before the Bad Guys show up.

So, yeah. It's a kind of 'work your ass off and get the job done as quick as possible, so you've got as much time as possible to sit on your ass and recover'.

Which, again, is just common sense if you think about it that way, but apparently a lot of people just... don't?

So yesterday we got in late, and the troops wound up clearing snow and got everybody living into the shelter of the farmhouse while Larry and I Cured them and Healed them. On the one hand, they got to sleep in the bunkhouses. Terrence had been as good as his word, and the bunkhouses both had plenty of wood and coal, as well as some food that kept well in the cold, like sacks of root vegetables and bags of cereals. Like, wheat and oats and barley, not corn flakes and shredded wheat.

There's another thing I miss that I never thought I would. Corn. Who the fuck misses corn? But I hadn't had a single fuckin' kernel since I showed up here and now, and by now I kinda missed it. Elote, popcorn, hell, even just corn with butter. No idea why I'd be missing corn, and even less why I didn't remember seeing it since I arrived. Yet another item on the list of things to ask Saffron about when we had a moment. Okay, when we both had a moment at the same time. That house by the shore that she mentioned sounds better and better each day.

Of course, we'll probably have to wait for Isnomi to grow up, since she actually seemed to be a social little rugrat. Wouldn't want to deny her that just because her mother and I are antisocial bitches who just want to canoodle and watch the seasons change.

Anyhow, the troops all piled into one bunkhouse. Each of the single-story bunkhouses here could house sixteen people, and that meant they all fit with a spare bunk. Splitting up might have gotten themselves more elbow room, but way less body heat to warm the place up.

Oh! I'd been right about the coal. Right near the edge of this particular farmstead the mountains kinda jutted into Lancaster territory, and at some point in the past the folks here had found a seam of coal and started working it. Not, like, industrial coal mining or anything like that. Just sending some of the hands out over the summer to knock some loose and drag it back, which meant they didn't need to chop down as many trees to heat the houses in the winter. Ecologically friendly coal mining. Who knew?

Yeah, I get that burning coal gives off some nasty shit, but... I mean... more trees?

Yeah, I failed Environmental Science. Blow me.

Thing is, you couldn't really burn coal in a fireplace. Definitely couldn't burn it safely, what with all those bad gases coming off it. So each of the farmstead buildings had one or more of those little Franklin Stove jobbers. Apparently, just like in my old world, invented by Franklin. High Artificer Franklin in the here and now, but still the same guy. Inventing, philosophizing, philandering, and doing it all while shaped like a particularly dumpy potato. Respect.

Saffron showed up late in the evening the night we arrived, this time dressed in her uniform. The kids, the women, and all of the former infected except Sam had already gone to bed. When Saffron showed up, Larry shot up out of his seat like somebody'd lit a fire under it. "Imperator!"

That got a smile out of Saffron. She nodded to him and said, "Cadet Lancaster. Your father sends his regards, and asked how Lancaster House is faring?"

He grimaced. "Between Lancaster House proper and the immediate outlying farms I'd judge we've lost between one person in five and two in five; we haven't checked the more distant farms yet."

She nodded, then quietly asked, "how is your brother faring?"

Lancaster smiled and shrugged. "He seemed fine when last I saw him. He seems... happier? Since he declared me Heir."

She smiled at him and said, "perhaps he realized he was ill suited to the task?"

"My brother is by far the better of us."

"In stature perhaps, and by bearing certainly, but," she paused, making sure Larry was listening instead of planning some other argument. "He is not the sort who would find satisfaction in counting the costs, or minimizing the same while maximizing any benefits to be had."

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Larry heaved a sigh, then flopped into his chair and nodded. "I suppose not. So you're saying I am?"

She shrugged. "Let's say that I am absolutely certain you can count higher than he can."

Her deadpan delivery left everybody staring for a second. I broke first, laughing my ass off at the image of Lachlan trying to count to twenty two. Larry didn't laugh quite so hard, but he definitely found something about her statement funny. Even Sam smiled a little at the general merriment, although she definitely looked nervous about laughing about a Lancaster's failings, even at one remove.

I pulled Saffron down into my lap. She gave me a mildly disgruntled look, but when I just shrugged and smiled at her, she leaned in and kissed me. I kinda lost track of time for a while. Eventually, when she decided to come up for air, I asked, "so why the uniform today?"

She rolled her eyes. "Marie decided it needed to be cleaned. 'Properly' cleaned. I suspect she's also going to go about mending it."

"Something of Conrad's wound up damaged?"

"Not that I noticed, but Conrad and Marie both adhere to higher standards when it comes to proper attire."

I nodded. "Fair point. You're good if it's on properly and doesn't have any visible stains or big rips or shit."

"And you, my beloved Goof, are fine as long as it's supposed to cover your privates. Even if it succeeds and fails on a moment to moment basis."

I laughed at that, and this time Sam seemed way less restrained about it. Larry had the weirdest expression, like half kumquat look, half guffaw. "It's okay, Larry. Seriously, you think I could be this much of a fuck-up and not realize it? I've made my peace with it. Mostly. I'm sure as shit not gonna get pissy if a friend laughs at me about it."

That killed his laughter right there, although it killed his kumquat look too, so, partial win? After a minute of staring, he said, "you would count me a friend?"

I sighed, smiled up at Saffron, who smiled back down, then pushed my chin with one finger until I looked in Larry's direction. "Yeah, yeah, I do. Fuckin' weird, ain't it?"

He tilted his head sideways in a weird shrugging gesture, then said, "war and plague make for strange bedfellows, it seems."

"Hey, I said friend, not bedfellows. Told you before, not gonna get in Bonnie's way." I smiled at him to take the sting out of the words. "However, speaking of bedfellows, I'm for bed." I stood, smoothly lifting Saffron into a princess carry. She squawked a little and threw her arms around my neck. "G'night, all."

We'd been given the Heir's suite for the night; Terrence and his sister had taken over the mirroring Master suite. I kinda wanted to pay them a visit, or maybe tell Sam to, but between not wanting to intrude and wanting some alone time with Saffron, I didn't.

When we finally got to sleep, Mimic dreamt of that not-tic-tac-toe game. Complete with little white and black stones now. Weird.

Larry and I spent the following day directing the troops and the farmstead folks digging holes and laying their dead to rest. A couple times when we hit spots that were hard frozen or had roots or rocks or some shit in the way, I just Mana Bladed the fuck out of obstacles. I mean, I think I could have done that for the holes entirely, but it seemed... disrespectful? Also, I didn't think it would leave enough dirt to fill the holes, so yeah, I didn't do that.

Saffron brought Marie and Isnomi around for our second night at the farm. Isnomi, Terrence, and Teresa wound up charging around the farmhouse playing some kind of shrieking kid chase game until all three of them zonked out at some point well after dark. At Isnomi's sleepy insistence, we tucked them all into the master suite bed. Sleepover time with her new friends. As we stood there watching them all snore, I leaned my head against Saffron's.

They're a little old for her, but I'm glad she's making friends.

Saffron sighed. You realize how little age means to her, yes?

I pulled her closer. Yeah, she's super advanced and all, but he's like, ten years older than her, at least.

She turned to me, turning me to face her. I put my arms around her, and she put one hand on either side of my face. No, love. Not what I meant at all. When I just kind of stared at her, uncomprehending, but still enjoying the view of her in my arms, she thought, she's Mor. A Primordial. A Deity. Age will touch her exactly as much as she wishes it to, no more, no less.

I looked down at her, comprehension and corollary smacking me like a brick to the face. I... I don't know that I'd want to go on without you.

She smiled up at me. Goof. My love. You are my Goddess. My Patron. When my mortal coil is at its end, when my body is laid to rest, whether it be from age or misadventure, my soul will be yours to do with as you will. She sighed and buried her face in my chest. I buried my face in her hair as she thought. It is that thought alone that allows me to evince some modicum of your fearlessness.

I reached down and crossed my arms behind her butt, lifting her until she locked her ankles behind me. I carried her along the balcony, down north steps, across the dining room, up the south steps, and along the balcony to the heir's suite like that. I think. Not like I saw any of it, because I was too busy playing tonsil hockey with my wife. When we got to our suite, we found the room toasty warm, and a surprisingly shy looking Marie already in the bed under the covers.

With her uniform hanging from a hook on the back of the dressing room door. Saffron and I saw that, looked at each other, and without the need for any fancy telepathy knew exactly what we had to do. Starting with her kicking the door shut behind us.

None of us got that much sleep. None of us cared much, either.

The family stayed for breakfast, and when it came time for hugs and kisses good bye, Isnomi toddled over to Terrence and Teresa before letting Marie scoop her up to go.

Larry and I spent the day helping the farmstead workers, including at least a third of the women, as well as all of our troops who weren't actually on guard duty, clear out the roads to the south and west. I had way less respect for snow and ice than I did for somebody's grave, so while I don't know what Larry did to the west, I straight up blew the snow off with super sized Air Shields, then Mana Bladed the ice into non-existence. By lunchtime I sent most of my troops back to help Larry. At which point the one problem with my method became blindingly clear.

Instead of leaving pockets of ice or snow in the inevitable ruts and potholes of the road, I'd just Mana Bladed that shit smooth. Smooth as glass. Smooth as ice. Which, when somebody tried to walk on it with wet feet? The obvious thing happened.

So the four Veterans who stayed with me? Pretty much spent the day shattering the thin layer of glassy whatever I'd turned the road surface into. I'd have felt bad, but they all assured me that 'breaking shit was way more fun than shoveling snow and picking ice'.

Y'know? Once I finished glassing the road all the way to the farmstead's edge, which I knew was the edge because we hit the area that had already been cleared out by Fred and Linus' guys? I started smashing the shit out of that thin layer of glass myself. Mostly just by stomping around on it playing Godzilla, complete with rearing my head back, roaring, and extending a Mana Blade skyward from my tongue.

I think I burned my teeth a little. Definitely burned my lips on them when I stopped.

Fuck it. Worth.