He said the name as though it should provoke instant recognition. Valentine couldn't remember ever having heard it.
Neither man made an offer to shake.
Sime tipped his head back and spoke, eventually. "I'm a special executive of our struggling new republic. Missouri by birth. Kansas City."
"How did you get out?" Valentine asked. Jesus, that used to be the first question he'd ask those fleeing the Kurian Zone in his days as a Wolf. Old habits died hard.
"My mom ran. I was fourteen."
"What's a 'special executive'?" Valentine asked.
"I'm attached to the cabinet."
"That superglue is tricky stuff."
"Quick but dusty, Major."
"You are going to come to the point of this?"
"Tobacco? Maybe a little bourbon?" Sime made no move to produce either, and Valentine wondered if some assistant would emerge from the shadows of the big, dark room.
"No, thanks."
"Trying to make things more pleasant for you."
"You could get me a bar of that soap you used before meeting me."
"How-oh, of course. Ex-Wolf. I'm very sorry about all this, you know."
Valentine said nothing.
Sime leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table with interlaced, quick-bitten fingers forming a wedge pointed at Valentine. "Are you a patriot, Major?"
"A patriot?"
"Do you believe in the Cause?"
Had the man never read his service file? "Of course."
"Body and soul?"
This catechism was becoming ridiculous. "Get to the point."
Sime's eyes shone in the window light. "How would you like to do more to advance the Cause than you've ever done before? Do something that would make the rest of your service-impressive though it is-look like nothing in comparison?"
"Let me guess. It involves the charges against me disappearing. All I have to do is go back into the Kurian Zone and-"
"Quite the contrary, Major. It involves you pleading guilty."
A moment of stunned silence passed. Valentine heard Young shift his feet.
Valentine almost felt the edge of the sword of Damocles hanging above. "That helps the Cause how?"
"Major Valentine. I'm personally involved in-in charge of, in a way, some very delicate negotiations. A consortium of high-level officials in the Kurian Zone-"
"Quislings?"
Sime wrinkled his nose and opened and shut his mouth, like a cat disgusted by a serving of cooked carrots.