"Hard to say what'll tip the balance," Brother Mark said. "The Kurians seem to have finally figured out that threatening Kentucky is causing more problems than it's solved."
The debate was raging among the people as well. Dr. Johnson, when he had no news to report, read letters and notes from a few phone calls and even news reports from overseas. Of course there was no knowing just how much the good doctor was editorializ ing, but the vast majority of the messages he read were in favor of Kentucky declaring itself against the Kurians, though there were mixed feelings about whether they should join the United Free Republics or no.
The United Free Republics, as it turned out, suddenly developed a diplomatic interest in the situation in Kentucky.
A civilian of Valentine's acquaintance named Sime arrived with more than a dozen security men and aides dressed in the ordinary buttoned, collarless shirts and denims, corduroys, and mole-skins of the Kentuckians.
Valentine could only gape at the motorcade. He hadn't seen vehicles like this since driving Fran Paoli's big Lincoln out of the Ordnance on Halloween night. The one at the front was marred by a big brush cutter. The passenger van at the rear bore a medical red cross. All were excessively dirty, however.
Sime checked in at Valentine's security office on a blustery afternoon. At the moment, Valentine didn't have anything but oatmeal and hot apple cider to serve his elegant visitor.
Valentine wasn't sure how he felt about Sime. In some ways they were similar: in age, melting-pot heritage-Sime a dark chocolate and Valentine a native bronze-and general height and build. There were contrasts: Sime was smooth-skinned, Valentine scarred; Sime bald, Valentine long-haired. Valentine found Sime's usual scent of sandalwood and gentleman's talc appealing.
More important, every time Valentine became involved with Sime, Valentine seemed to end up in deeper difficulty. Now Sime was giving him the additional headache of keeping tabs on one of Southern Command's bigger political bugs.
Sime idled in the lobby, after requesting the Kentuckians for an opportunity to speak on behalf of Southern Command. Perhaps for power-play reasons of their own, the Assembly put him off for a day.
"You wouldn't have a shower in here somewhere?" Sime asked Valentine. He had an entourage of sixteen, personal security types and drivers and communication staff.
"There's hot water in the washroom. Best I can do. You're going to have difficulty finding accommodations in town, unless you want to squat in a rat run or take charity. You're welcome to stay on base, but it's a two-hour drive to Fort Seng."
"We can sleep in the vehicles. They're rigged for it."
"I don't suppose they're rigged to carry medical goods and antibiotics. We could really use some."
"Yes, we'll spare what we can. I've brought you the latest ravies vaccine too."
"New strain loose?"
"You'll have to ask the doctor. I believe it's just this year's booster," Sime said.
"We could really use a doctor at the post."
Sime pursed his lips, and Valentine knew the man well enough to know when his patience was wearing thin. "I thought you had support from Evansville."
"It's a small manufacturing city, and even that's not much good without raw materials. I don't want to strip the town of what little they have for their own people. And it helps to have a doctor who has to obey orders."
"Personnel isn't my specialty. Remember, I'm not here to support your guerrillas or legion etrangere or whatever you're running here."
"What are you going to tell the Assembly?" Valentine asked.
"What do you think I'll tell them?" Sime asked.
"A rousing speech promising the friendship of the Free Republics, as long as that friendship doesn't get measured in bootheels over the river," Valentine said.
Sime had a good poker face. No tells gave away whether he was angered or amused. "I may just surprise you. I hope you come and hear it."
"I'm afraid they won't let me in."
The lips tightened again. "The man handling security for the town? I'll see what I can do."
"Seems to me everything you've been involved in has been a disaster for Southern Command," Valentine said. Sime's smooth exterior made Valentine want to stick a pin in him just to see if he would pop. "Kansas, Javelin . . . what about the offensive in the Rio Grande Valley? Your handiwork too?"
"You earned your dislike, Valentine. Maybe one of these days you'll grow up and realize I'm in the same fight as you. I can't swing a blade and I shoot like a cross-eyed man and I'd be dead in a week if I had to eat preserved ration concentrate and WHAM! But I know people and I can read my audience."
"Bet that comes in handy when a Reaper tears the roof off your house."
"Maybe I'm better equipped for fighting the kind of battles the Kurians wage. They don't put-what's that phrase?-shit on target. They'd rather make their target give up and go home, or do a deal that swaps a few lives, a few towns, for a generation's security."