obligator 04, sin cera version.

A weakened and dim sun, blinded by thin white clouds, peered from the horizon as it rose. Above Moscow, the darker grey gradually faded into a lighter shade; morning was nearing. Cars frequented the streets in a progressively strengthening flow; humanity moved on and about, leaving behind only the fading steam in the cold air.
Ionnas Vokheslyiv sat in a taxi, dressed formally and carrying his briefcase; he rubbed his hands together slowly as he stared out the window. Today was to be a busy day, he was certain. There was first the meeting with the central committee, and then Ruslan’s department – and the meeting with the diplomat and the head of Circuity Systems.
He shivered slightly, for the cold was leaking through the windows. The skyline of Moscow was becoming larger and larger; he lived in its shadow, but would never become tired of coming into the city itself.
When he arrived at his office building, he paid the driver and entered the cold, expansive building. The receptionist nodded to him curtly – as she did every single day, every single time he walked by – and he went to the aging elevator.
His office was on the sixth floor; it had been a location quite coveted by many, but as Vostok was on the top of the market at that point, he had always had the first choice. Always.
The elevator made a dying ring, and he stepped off the elevator into the semi-heated hallway which linked all of the parts of his company together. This and the off-building structure which was about twenty miles away housed all that his company needed; in more prosperous times they had also used the seventh floor and part of the eighth, but exports had gone down, and so had the necessity for workers.
He entered the main area, which was enclosed with insulated walls to trap the precious heat, and went straight into his office.
“Sir,” the speaker on his desk said, “There’s someone who’s been waiting to see you.”
“Who is it?”
“Your son.”
Ionnas paused, dropping the briefcase onto the desk; it landed with a thud. “Send him in.”
“Very well.”
Ionnas opened the briefcase, pulling out the familiar files and dropping them into an open desk drawer. There was a click, and he looked up to see the door open.
He almost did not recognize Karl; his hair was long and he looked like any other teenager he might see on the street.
“Hello, father.”
Well, his voice was no different – perhaps a bit deeper, but always with that arrogant tone to it.
“I would have wished you could have dispensed with the preliminaries, father.” Karl stepped in and closed the door behind him. “But I suppose the receptionist was indeed telling the truth when she said you weren’t at work yet. To my childish surprise you did not live here. Much would speak to the contrary.”
Ionnas was silent.
“So,” Karl continued as he sat in front of the desk, “I wonder if you perhaps care about how I have been?”
“Yes,” Ionnas replied civilly, “I do. How have you been?”
“Quite well, thank you. School has been a bore – very easy, to be sure – and I know that for some it might not be entirely fun, but I have learned some things from you. Namely, work can become your life if you let it.”
“I’m certain you came here for another purpose other than to mock your father.”
“Oh, certainly. Of course, I think I’ve heard you use that in other situations, mostly when you felt like getting rid of someone quickly. This is your son, father, I hope you understand him. I graduated early, because of my obsessive interest with the work. I am coming to you for the sole purpose of informing you that I am going to England.”
“When?”
“You look surprised,” Karl said calmly. “I hope to leave by the end of the month, if my student visa comes out all rosy.”
“And you are here because you – you want money?”
Karl looked somewhat taken aback. “Certainly you wouldn’t take me for a common prodigal, father.”
“You certainly have acted like one.”
“I have taken up after you, Father,” Karl replied mildly, “I’m sure your wife would agree. She hasn’t seen me in a year.”
There was silence.
“Why are you here?” Ionnas said suddenly, looking away at the window at the end of his office.
“To tell you that I am going to England.”
“That’s all very easy to say.” Ionnas stated flatly. “Do you need money?”
“I am not asking for any.” Karl said quickly.
“I’m not saying you are. Do you need any? I want to help you.”
“I don’t need any help,” Karl replied shortly.
“I want to give it to you, then. Any help I can give? Money? Advice?”
“Father,” Karl stood. “You’re insulting me.”
“I’m trying to help! You walk in here, so bloody convinced your way is the only way that matters, only to inform me you are leaving the country. Isn’t this what happened a few years ago? You just decided to leave your school?”
“The fact I was suspended had something to do with what I chose, of course,” Karl said loudly, “It was beyond my control. I want to do something that is in my control, Father, and I don’t want it to be something you don’t approve of.”
Silence.
Ionnas pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a few notes, holding them out towards his son.
“At least take this.” Ionnas said quietly.
“Don’t soil this time, Father, with the money you’ve destroyed our family for.” Karl hissed. “I’m leaving without any of it.”
“Every bit of this, Karl,” Ionnas shot back, standing quickly, “Every single bloody bit I’ve worked for. I worked for it because I wanted to make sure that you had something to be proud of. I wanted to give you something you would not turn your back on when you got older.”
“No,” Karl snapped, “It’s because you didn’t want me to hate you. And – if I may be so blunt – it did not work. You thought I would be happy with the money? The toys? The nurse? The copious amounts of kvass? God. You really thought so?”
Ionnas was silent; he lowered his hand to his side silently.
“All I ever really wanted to see was your face, and you never, ever showed it. I know you probably thought you were doing the better thing, but you destroyed our home. Mother is going mad, you’re going to die from exhaustion, and this whole company is going to go under. I swear, Father. Stop holding so tight to what you want.”
“Karl, I wanted to build this up to give it to you. Security for the future.”
“I did not grow up in the War, Father. I do not know what it is to be insecure. I want to see how my life is so that I know how to change it.” Karl’s eyes were smoldering, a deep fire within that Ionnas had never seen. “I wanted to tell you I was leaving so that you would not hate me if I disappeared. Perhaps it wouldn’t change much, but I don’t hate you. I swear it. I may hate all you’ve done to the family, but I’ll never hate you – and I know I hate myself for not being able to.” He stopped. “I’ll talk to Mother later, don’t mention the fact we were fighting to her. I don’t want her to be hurt anymore.”
“Karl.” Ionnas’s voice was strained; he held the notes out to his son. “Take this.”
Karl’s eyes went from the notes to his father’s. He said nothing.
“It is the very least I can do.” Ionnas said quietly.
Karl blinked and stepped forwards, taking it.
Without a word he turned and left the office, closing the door behind him. There was nothing to do, so Ionnas turned and sat in his chair, staring out of the window for a very long time.

posted by paradoxically correct @ 12:39 PM