The Chosen

General, will that not distract from our primary mission?'

'No. Santander can interdict the Gut, but they cannot land significant forces here-they don't have enough to spare from the Union border. Hence, the outcome of this campaign is not in doubt, given the forces available here. For reasons you have no need to know, it is now absolutely imperative that we secure the rail passage across the Sierra to our forces in the Union. Guerillas cannot operate without a civilian populace to shelter and feed them. These Sierrans are stubborn animals, and I have no time to tame them by gentle means. Their corpses will give us no trouble except as a public health problem.'

'Zum behfel, Herr General.'

'And my compliments to Brigadier Hosten: signal Well done.'

* * *

'Why, thank you, Heinrich,' Gerta muttered to herself, tossing the telegraph form onto her desk.

That had belonged to one of the Executive Council of the Sierra until yesterday morning. There was still a spatter of dried blood across it where a submachine-gun burst had ended that particular politician's term of office; it was beginning to smell pretty high, too. The windows were permanently opened-grenade-which cut it a little; it also let her listen to mop-up squads finishing off the pockets of resistance all across Nueva Madrid.

'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.'

Good lad, Raj said. That would make their tactics serve their strategy.

correct, Center replied, dispassionate as always. the strategy john hosten has outlined would give probability of chosen victory within a decade of over 75 %; probability of long-term stalemate 10 %; probability of santander victory 15 %. in addition, in this scenario there is a distinct possibility of immediate and long-term setback to human civilization on visager, as the effort of prolonged total war and the development of weapons of mass destruction undermines the viability of both parties.

'Fortunately, they're not likely to do that,' Jeffrey said. 'The Chosen always did tend to mistake operations for strategy,'

probability of full-scale chosen attack on santander border is 85 %, ±7, Center confirmed.

'They'll try to roll right over us,' John said. 'The question is, can we hold them?'

'We'd better,' Jeffrey said. 'If we don't hold them in the passes, if they break through into the open basin country west of Alai, we're royally fucked. The provincial militias just don't have the experience or cohesion to fight open-field battles of maneuver yet.'

'The Regulars will have to hold them, then.'

Jeffrey's face was tired and stubbled; now it looked old. 'And Gerard's men,' he said softly. 'There in the front line.'

John looked at him. 'That'll be pretty brutal,' he warned. 'They'll be facing the Land's army-in the civil war, it was mostly Libert's troops with a few Land units as stiffeners.'

Jeffrey's lips thinned. 'Gerard's men are half the formed, regular units we have,' he said. 'We need time. If we spend all our cadre resisting the first attacks, who's going to teach the rush of volunteers? We've split up the Freedom Brigades people to the training camps, too.'

John sighed and nodded. 'Behfel ist behfel.'