“Enter,” she said; the words were blurred by the bandages across one side of her face, and by the pain of the long gash underneath.
Her son snapped to attention. “Sir. The last fires in the refinery are out. Here are the casualty reports. The technicians say that the water supply can be restarted as soon as we hold the reservoir; Colonel von Seedow asks permission to—”
Colonel von Seedow came in, walking rather stiffly.
“You may go, Fahnrich,” she said. Johan was young enough to still be entranced by military formality.
Von Seedow saluted more casually. “It’s an easy enough target,” she said. “My scouts report that the enemy aren’t holding it in force, and I’d rather we didn’t give them time to think of poisoning it.”
Gerta considered; she was tasked with taking the capital and a set surrounding area and holding until relieved. On the other hand, she had considerable latitude, resistance had been light, and just sitting on her behind waiting had never been her long suit.
Speaking of which . . . “That a wound, Maxine?” she said, as the other Chosen officer sat in a gingerly fashion.
“In a manner of speaking, Brigadier. You don’t like girls, do you?
Gerta blinked; it was a rather odd question at this point. “No. About as entertaining as a gynecological exam, for me. Why?”
“Well, in that case my warning is superfluous, but watch out for the ones here. They bite.”
They shared a chuckle, and Gerta pulled out the appropriate map. “Through here?” she said, drawing a line with her finger to the irregular blue circle of the reservoir.
“Ya. And a couple of companies around here. Can you spare me some armored cars?”
“That’s no problem, we only lost two in action.”
Maxine von Seedow ran a hand over the blond stubble that topped her long, rather boney face. “Good. We did lose more infantry than I anticipated.”
“Stubborn beasts, locally.”
Von Seedow rose, wincing slightly. “Tell me about it, Brigadier. In my opinion, we should exterminate them. I should have the reservoir by nightfall.”
“Good. The last thing I want is an epidemic of dysentery. Or rather, the last thing you want is an epidemic of dysentery.”
Maxine raised her pale eyebrows.
“In their infinite wisdom, the General Staff are pulling me out. They’ve got another hole and need a cork.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“War! Extra, extra, read all about it—Republic at war with Chosen! Admiral Farr smashes Chosen fleet!”
“Well, part of it,” Jeffrey Farr said, snatching a copy thrust into his hands and flipping a fifty-cent piece back.
The car was moving slowly enough for that; the streets of Santander City were packed. Militiamen were rushing to their mobilization stations, air-raid wardens in their new armbands and helmets were standing on stepladders to tape over the streetlights, and everybody and his Aunt Sally were milling around talking to each other. Smith pulled the car over to the curb for ten minutes while a unit of Regulars—Premier’s Guard, but in field kit—headed towards the main railway station. The newspaper was full of screaming headlines three inches high, and so were the mobilization notices being pasted up on every flat surface by members of the Women’s Auxiliary, who also wore armbands.
The crowds cheered the soldiers as they marched. John nodded. “Hope they’re still as enthusiastic in a year,” he said grimly.
“Hope we’re alive in a year,” Jeffrey replied, scanning the article. His lips shaped a soundless whistle. “Hot damn, but it looks like Dad completely cleaned their clocks. Eight cruisers, a battleship, and half their transports. Good way to start the war.”
“Improves our chances,” John said. “I wonder if Center—”
admiral farr’s actions indicate the limit of stochastic multivariate analysis, Center said. in your terms: a pleasant surprise, probability of favorable outcome to the struggle as a whole is increased by 7%, ±1.
Jeffrey nodded. “Wonder what they’ll do now,” he mused. “What’d you do, in their boots?”
“Stand pat,” John said at once. “Fortify the line of the Union-Santander border, concentrate on pacifying the occupied territories, and build ships and aircraft like crazy—taking Chosen personnel out of the armies to do it, if I had to. Absolutely no way we could fight our way through the mountains.”