March in Country Read Free

had thought back, sinking into the spongy floor. He felt something wet pull at his ankles, like living mud. He wondered if he stepped in the wrong direction if he’d sink and leave nothing but his Youth Vanguard Leader cap floating on the living floor.
    This is true: I will not present myself to you in a guise more pleasing to human eyes, the inner dialogue continued. Preparations for the move into Kentucky have left me exhausted . Perhaps it is just as well. I see no point in trusting a man who needs such useless reality dressing.
    “I’d rather see things as they are,” Macon said, trying to fill his brain with white noise. You could bullshit a Youth Vanguard Leader when he caught you with vodka in your shampoo bottle, but Prince Green had the ability to poke around in his brain.
    One old hand, the Atlanta-based director who’d sponsored him in the Youth Vanguard, had told him the worst thing you could do when facing a Kurian was try to remain calm. She’d said he should give in to whatever emotion was at hand—anger, fear, revulsion. Strong human emotions confused them, and a few caused them to flee your head like a cat off a hot stove.
    Macon didn’t want to screw up his first real opportunity, so he went with serene competence. It had served him well with the Reapers, and weren’t they just extensions of the Kurians?
    This is good: I will dispense with the aphorisms. We are moving into Kentucky shortly. Our foolish cousins north of the Ohio River have thoroughly, what is your colorful expression, shit in their own front yard . They turned a minor incursion by the resistance into a full-scale rebellion thanks to the use of a heavy hand where a light stinging slap was required, then released a half-developed and virtually untested virus. They’ve killed half the population and made resolute enemies of the other half. We have an opportunity to pick up the pieces so carelessly broken, if we move quickly but carefully. There are to be three new Control Districts. I will have the westernmost, and you will be on my staff, if you so accept .
    Macon needed to think. Were they really moving against the rebels, or was this some kind of play against their rivals north of the Ohio? They were greedy when it came to engulfing new populations and their human servants were chips thrown on the table in long shot gambles. The Georgia Control was powerful, easily the most powerful south of the old Mason-Dixon Line and east of the Mississippi, but for all that they had only a small standing army. It stood as a safeguard against a rebellion from the more numerous police and paramilitary reserve forces and was overstretched.
    This is interesting: You’re wondering if we have enough trustworthy forces to operate in three entire new Control Districts. We do not. But we have enough to do a thorough job of taking over one, as we did in Alabama and Florida in the days of your fathers . For the others, mercenaries, police, and a certain amount of terror will allow us to maintain our position until control is consolidated .
    “There are guerillas in Kentucky, I’ve heard,” Macon said. He’d heard a lot of talk of one beleaguered Southern Command battalion. Evidently anyone could join up under a false name. They didn’t ask any questions and gave you a new identity, basically. He’d heard some mutterings that if this or that didn’t work out, the person in question would run off and join the rebels.
    This is true: the legworm ranchers have assembled a small army aided by a band of renegades, a smaller force from the hillbilly rabble across the Mississippi. They’re in our region, camped on the Ohio near Evansville. Your brethren on the Armed Operations Staff consider the Kentuckians the more dangerous force as they are armed and numerous and know the land . I am not convinced. Nor is Director Solon, who has some experience across the Mississippi . We must move as soon as weather allows . Once my avatars are in place we will be in a