Skyhawks.”
The cadets jumped to their feet. The applause this time was the real thing. Barak put his arm around Danny, who was applauding
a bit too much. Emily leaned past him to touch the boy’s arm. “How proud you must be of your father.”
“My English not too good yet,” said Danny with difficulty. “I understood most.”
Speaking over the prolonged applause, Halliday asked Barak, “Where did Luria get his English? It’s excellent.”
“War college in England. Also, our generation grew up under the British Mandate.”
“I see.” An arid smile. “He managed to get in a little politics, at that.”
“Target of opportunity,” said Barak.
“Yes, indeed.”
“A m I disturbing you?” Emily’s voice again, low and charged. “It’s late as hell, I know.” Barak was bedded down in a VIP suite
of the base guesthouse, and she was calling from the superintendent’s luxurious quarters across the lawn.
“No problem. I’m in my pajamas reading. Reading Plutarch, as a matter of fact.”
“Oh, sure.” They had corresponded at length, off and on, about Plutarch.
“On my life. I found a beat-up Modern Library copy in this room.” So he had, amid a shelf of faded best-sellers.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
He glanced at his travel clock. “At one in the morning?”
“Look, Wolf, I thought we’d talk over breakfast, but I’m not sure I can get away from Sparky and his wife. Anyway, I can’t
sleep. There’s a mantel clock in this room driving me bats, every fifteen minutes going
bing bang bong
—”
“What about Halliday?”
“Bud? He must have gone to sleep hours ago. He has to run his five miles at dawn.”
“Where do we meet?”
“At that eagle statue.”
“You’re on. Ten minutes.”
There she was by the pedestal, a dark huddled shape in bright moonlight. The deep snow crunched under his tankist’s boots
as he hurried to her. “Hi, it’s damn cold,” she greeted him. “Are you warm enough in that sweater?”
“Our army sweaters are pretty good.”
“Everything about your army is pretty good.” She stripped a glove off her hand, and took his in a hard clasp. The chilly fingers
interwove in his and tugged.
“Where are we going, Em?”
“To the chapel, first. That’s where Bud and I will get married.”
“What! When?” The news was hardly unexpected, yet the shock was real and physical, a tingle down his arms and back.
“Oh, pretty soon. You’ll get an invitation, natch. I hope you can make it. You and Nakhama.”
Creak, creak, creak of fresh snow underfoot, brisk wind sweeping dry flakes in the air. “Emily, that’s beautiful news. Congratulations.”
Her fingers tightened. “Bud’s idea, doing it here. I’m just as glad to skip the Washington nuptial hoo-ha. My God, what a
marvellous place to have a military school. Look at those mountains, will you?” The snowy range loomed high against the stars,
bluish and jagged. “One of them is Pike’s Peak, isn’t it? And say, isn’t the architecture of that chapel sublime?”
The beauty of the strange soaring structure, suggestive of airplane wings, was much enhanced by the chiaroscuro of glittery
moonlight and black shadow. He said, “I’ve seen pictures of it, but they don’t give the idea at all. It’s wonderful.”
“Zev, you don’t suppose it’s closed? Churches stay open for meditators, don’t they?”
“Let’s try the door.”
It was open. The high interior was lit by a single golden lamp, and tall stained-glass windows showed faint moonlit colors
in the gloom. They sat down in a rear pew. “Wow, what an edifice,” she said, her voice echoing hollowly. “And I doubt we’ll
have fifty wedding guests. But Bud wants this. I told him about us, you know, old Wolf. No X-rated stuff, you understand,
but everything. I had to.”
Barak was fighting off an impulse to take her in his arms, for one last time. It was painfully sweet to be with her again
this way.
The cadets jumped to their feet. The applause this time was the real thing. Barak put his arm around Danny, who was applauding
a bit too much. Emily leaned past him to touch the boy’s arm. “How proud you must be of your father.”
“My English not too good yet,” said Danny with difficulty. “I understood most.”
Speaking over the prolonged applause, Halliday asked Barak, “Where did Luria get his English? It’s excellent.”
“War college in England. Also, our generation grew up under the British Mandate.”
“I see.” An arid smile. “He managed to get in a little politics, at that.”
“Target of opportunity,” said Barak.
“Yes, indeed.”
“A m I disturbing you?” Emily’s voice again, low and charged. “It’s late as hell, I know.” Barak was bedded down in a VIP suite
of the base guesthouse, and she was calling from the superintendent’s luxurious quarters across the lawn.
“No problem. I’m in my pajamas reading. Reading Plutarch, as a matter of fact.”
“Oh, sure.” They had corresponded at length, off and on, about Plutarch.
“On my life. I found a beat-up Modern Library copy in this room.” So he had, amid a shelf of faded best-sellers.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
He glanced at his travel clock. “At one in the morning?”
“Look, Wolf, I thought we’d talk over breakfast, but I’m not sure I can get away from Sparky and his wife. Anyway, I can’t
sleep. There’s a mantel clock in this room driving me bats, every fifteen minutes going
bing bang bong
—”
“What about Halliday?”
“Bud? He must have gone to sleep hours ago. He has to run his five miles at dawn.”
“Where do we meet?”
“At that eagle statue.”
“You’re on. Ten minutes.”
There she was by the pedestal, a dark huddled shape in bright moonlight. The deep snow crunched under his tankist’s boots
as he hurried to her. “Hi, it’s damn cold,” she greeted him. “Are you warm enough in that sweater?”
“Our army sweaters are pretty good.”
“Everything about your army is pretty good.” She stripped a glove off her hand, and took his in a hard clasp. The chilly fingers
interwove in his and tugged.
“Where are we going, Em?”
“To the chapel, first. That’s where Bud and I will get married.”
“What! When?” The news was hardly unexpected, yet the shock was real and physical, a tingle down his arms and back.
“Oh, pretty soon. You’ll get an invitation, natch. I hope you can make it. You and Nakhama.”
Creak, creak, creak of fresh snow underfoot, brisk wind sweeping dry flakes in the air. “Emily, that’s beautiful news. Congratulations.”
Her fingers tightened. “Bud’s idea, doing it here. I’m just as glad to skip the Washington nuptial hoo-ha. My God, what a
marvellous place to have a military school. Look at those mountains, will you?” The snowy range loomed high against the stars,
bluish and jagged. “One of them is Pike’s Peak, isn’t it? And say, isn’t the architecture of that chapel sublime?”
The beauty of the strange soaring structure, suggestive of airplane wings, was much enhanced by the chiaroscuro of glittery
moonlight and black shadow. He said, “I’ve seen pictures of it, but they don’t give the idea at all. It’s wonderful.”
“Zev, you don’t suppose it’s closed? Churches stay open for meditators, don’t they?”
“Let’s try the door.”
It was open. The high interior was lit by a single golden lamp, and tall stained-glass windows showed faint moonlit colors
in the gloom. They sat down in a rear pew. “Wow, what an edifice,” she said, her voice echoing hollowly. “And I doubt we’ll
have fifty wedding guests. But Bud wants this. I told him about us, you know, old Wolf. No X-rated stuff, you understand,
but everything. I had to.”
Barak was fighting off an impulse to take her in his arms, for one last time. It was painfully sweet to be with her again
this way.
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