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states of Ohio, Michigan, and much of northern and southern Indiana. (The central part of the state organized itself with the other great agricultural Kurian principalities in Illinois south of Chicago.) “All the more reason to send us at least something. Without their legworms, the clans in Kentucky lose their mobility and flexibility.”
    General Lehman leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as he drummed his chest with his fingers. “Maybe they won’t have any more luck in those hills than we did.”
    “A fresh brigade could make a big difference in western Kentucky. The old legworm clan alliance can take care of their ridges. With Evansville as a supply base, they have hospitals, fuel supplies, machine shops, factories. There’s even a company that produces tents and backpacks.”
    “I hate half measures, Major. The way I see it, we either pull out completely or go all in and shove every chip we can scrape together across the Mississippi. I’d like to argue for the latter, but we’re in flux right now.”
    “I’ve got an ad hoc battalion of Evansville volunteers—I guess you’d call them. There’s more than that in western and central Kentucky. We could put the brigade back together and have near a division.”
    Lehman’s comb went to work again.
    “But right now, in Evansville, all you have is what’s left of Javelin and your volunteers.”
    “The Kentuckians chased down the Moondaggers before settling in for the winter. Their legworms have to hibernate, remember. But the Evansville volunteers have the know-how for mechanized operations.”
    “Yes, the staff briefed me on that. You’re proposing a sort of French Foreign Legion for ex-Quislings, am I right? They do a little bleeding for us, and in six years they get a new name and citizenship in the UFR. Quite a scheme.”
    “I realize I may have exceeded my authority in recruiting local support.”
    “That’s what you were assigned to Javelin for: local support.”
    “To hear you tell it, my locals won’t have anything to support much longer.”
    “All in or pull out, Valentine. I’m sorry to say it, but all in is just not in the cards this year. That leaves pull out.”
    “Can I at least get some matériel for my Quisling recruits? They’re walking around in black-dyed versions of their old uniforms and using captured Moondagger guns. Not the best of rifles—they’re mostly bolt-action carbines with low-capacity magazines. Fine for smoking out rebellious townies; not so hot when you’re trying to bring down a running Reaper.”
    Lehman opened a notebook on his desk and jotted down a few words. “I’ll see what I can do. I know some huge rolls of blanketing or bedding has shown up recently. Guns will be tougher.”
    “What about my offer to the Quislings, sir? Can you give me something in writing to back it up?”
    “I’d be proud to. But honestly, Valentine, I don’t think any of ’em will be around to collect. They’ll either quit on you or be killed.”
    “Do you know something I don’t, General?”
    “It’s been my experience that the top-level Quisling officers are excellent. Well trained, intelligent, motivated, cooperative. Their soldiers are brave enough. They’ll stick where our guys will pull out a lot of the time. But you know as well as I that it’s the quality of the NCOs and junior officers that define an army. I’ve not seen the Quisling formation yet that has outstanding sergeants. They’re usually the best bullies and thieves in uniform.”

    Valentine swung through intelligence next. He had to place a call and be signed in by the security officer at the duty desk in the hall.
    A corporal escorted him to Post’s office. The corporal didn’t even try to make small talk.
    Valentine walked through a bullpen of people at desks and occupying cubicles, passing maps filled with pins and ribbons and whiteboards covered with cryptic scrawls on the walls, and arrived at an office beyond. Post these days