they’re doing. Sensing with radar has proven impossible over wide swaths.”
“All right,” Marguerite said. “I’ll accept your analysis for the moment. What else?”
A circle appeared on the map, east of the capital. “We don’t know what they’re doing there, High Admiral. Or, rather, we know what but not why. The what is that they’re setting up enough tentage to house maybe three hundred thousand people. Could be more. But why? It’s completely outside what we think is their last ditch defensive perimeter.”
“Don’t ask me,” said Wallenstein. “Figuring that out is your job. Move on, but do figure that out.”
“Yes, High Admiral,” said the briefing officer, moving on to, “Santa Josefina. The Tauran Union people extracted a promise that Balboa would disband the two units—”
“Units?” she asked. “Define ‘units.’ ”
“Tercios , High Admiral. Big regiments. In any case, the Balboans only went halfway. They took the sub organizations—‘cohorts,’ they call them, and ‘maniples,’ and sent them back to parent units, but they didn’t reintegrate them down to individual levels. Those cohorts and maniples had reassembled in the vicinity of the city of Cervantes, in the eastern part of the country. I say ‘had’ because, while one Santa Josefinan regiment is still in that area, the other has disappeared. Oh, their tents are still there but the troops are gone.”
“To where?”
“We believe they went home and are waiting for arms to be delivered. Possibly by the regiment that is still intact and in Balboa. Or maybe by sea. Or maybe across Santa Josefina’s eastern border. Or maybe all three. Or maybe the arms are already there.”
“That last,” said Khan, “would not surprise me. The Balboans do seem to think ahead.”
The understatement of that last set Wallenstein to laughing almost uncontrollably. When she’d recovered enough to speak, she said, “Oh, Commander Khan, I never knew you had such a gift for comedy.”
Still wiping at her eyes, Marguerite said, “Esmeralda, honey, please set us up a trip to Xing Zhong Guo and Santa Josefina. The latter’s president, their whole fucking government, needs a sharp lesson in the limits of disarmed neutrality.
“And see if you can’t get General Janier to join us.”
Casa Presidencial , Aserri, Santa Josefina, Terra Nova
“They say that they’re discharged, Mr. President,” said Teniente Blanco of Santa Josefina’s Public Force, a sort of combined police force, customs agency, coast guard, executive security service, and a few other things that an army, had the country had one, might have done. Blanco, an incongruous name, considering he was black, was both the chief of President Calderón’s security detail as well as a kind of military aide. He was, in fact, a graduate of Atlacatl’s well-respected military academy, though since then he’d seen nothing really resembling military service. Still, he was as close to a military expert as Calderón had available.
Or is he? Hmmm .
“Blanco, have you been keeping in touch with the Tauran force watching the Balboans?”
The lieutenant nodded, saying, “Yes, Mr. President.”
“Make me, us, an appointment to talk with General Marciano.”
“Here or there, Mr. President?”
“I’d prefer here.” When Blanco said nothing, Calderón added, “You don’t understand why?”
“No, Mr. President.”
“Good,” said the president, with some satisfaction.
Marciano really classified Santa Josefinans into two groups: those he detested and those he did not. The former group covered nearly everyone in the country, including the president, his entire party, the opposition party, the other opposition party, the party in opposition to the ruling party and both the other main opposition parties, the Tsarist-Marxists, the anarchists, the street sweepers, the banana harvesters, etc. The latter group included the police, to include Lieutenant Blanco, Marciano’s
“All right,” Marguerite said. “I’ll accept your analysis for the moment. What else?”
A circle appeared on the map, east of the capital. “We don’t know what they’re doing there, High Admiral. Or, rather, we know what but not why. The what is that they’re setting up enough tentage to house maybe three hundred thousand people. Could be more. But why? It’s completely outside what we think is their last ditch defensive perimeter.”
“Don’t ask me,” said Wallenstein. “Figuring that out is your job. Move on, but do figure that out.”
“Yes, High Admiral,” said the briefing officer, moving on to, “Santa Josefina. The Tauran Union people extracted a promise that Balboa would disband the two units—”
“Units?” she asked. “Define ‘units.’ ”
“Tercios , High Admiral. Big regiments. In any case, the Balboans only went halfway. They took the sub organizations—‘cohorts,’ they call them, and ‘maniples,’ and sent them back to parent units, but they didn’t reintegrate them down to individual levels. Those cohorts and maniples had reassembled in the vicinity of the city of Cervantes, in the eastern part of the country. I say ‘had’ because, while one Santa Josefinan regiment is still in that area, the other has disappeared. Oh, their tents are still there but the troops are gone.”
“To where?”
“We believe they went home and are waiting for arms to be delivered. Possibly by the regiment that is still intact and in Balboa. Or maybe by sea. Or maybe across Santa Josefina’s eastern border. Or maybe all three. Or maybe the arms are already there.”
“That last,” said Khan, “would not surprise me. The Balboans do seem to think ahead.”
The understatement of that last set Wallenstein to laughing almost uncontrollably. When she’d recovered enough to speak, she said, “Oh, Commander Khan, I never knew you had such a gift for comedy.”
Still wiping at her eyes, Marguerite said, “Esmeralda, honey, please set us up a trip to Xing Zhong Guo and Santa Josefina. The latter’s president, their whole fucking government, needs a sharp lesson in the limits of disarmed neutrality.
“And see if you can’t get General Janier to join us.”
Casa Presidencial , Aserri, Santa Josefina, Terra Nova
“They say that they’re discharged, Mr. President,” said Teniente Blanco of Santa Josefina’s Public Force, a sort of combined police force, customs agency, coast guard, executive security service, and a few other things that an army, had the country had one, might have done. Blanco, an incongruous name, considering he was black, was both the chief of President Calderón’s security detail as well as a kind of military aide. He was, in fact, a graduate of Atlacatl’s well-respected military academy, though since then he’d seen nothing really resembling military service. Still, he was as close to a military expert as Calderón had available.
Or is he? Hmmm .
“Blanco, have you been keeping in touch with the Tauran force watching the Balboans?”
The lieutenant nodded, saying, “Yes, Mr. President.”
“Make me, us, an appointment to talk with General Marciano.”
“Here or there, Mr. President?”
“I’d prefer here.” When Blanco said nothing, Calderón added, “You don’t understand why?”
“No, Mr. President.”
“Good,” said the president, with some satisfaction.
Marciano really classified Santa Josefinans into two groups: those he detested and those he did not. The former group covered nearly everyone in the country, including the president, his entire party, the opposition party, the other opposition party, the party in opposition to the ruling party and both the other main opposition parties, the Tsarist-Marxists, the anarchists, the street sweepers, the banana harvesters, etc. The latter group included the police, to include Lieutenant Blanco, Marciano’s
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