Free Infernal Sky by Dafydd Ab Hugh Page B

you don’t want it to be. I don’t expect you to wear it, if you’re not sure. Arlene, you mean so much to me that when you offered what I couldn’t accept, I had to respond in my own way. I had to let you know how I feel.”
    Reaching out to take his hand was the easiest thing in the world, until I felt the slight tremor in his palm. It took all my courage to gaze into his eyes and say, “I can’t tell you now. You must understand.”
    â€œOf course I do.”
    â€œThank you,” I said and kissed him on the cheek. His smile was a more beautiful sight than any golden ring could ever be. “I’d like to have this,” I continued. “Is that right, I mean, before I . . .”
    He was too much of a gentleman to let me finish. “I’d be honored if you keep it, Arlene, whatever you decide. We need to get used to making our own rules in our brave new world.”
    This was unexpected talk from my big, fine Mormon. “Does your God approve of that kind of thinking?” I asked him.
    He took my challenge in stride. “If those of my faith are right, Arlene, he’s everybody’s God, isn’t he?” Then he returned my chaste kiss and left me to my own devices.
    The next morning, at the briefing for everyone with a Level 5 clearance or higher, I proudly wore the thin band of gold on the chain with my dog tags. Fly noticed it right away. I’ll bet he was as glad as I was to be back in uniform.
    Admiral Kimmel wore the face any CO puts on when the situation is grave. So did the highest-ranking officer the Marine Corps had in Hawaii, Colonel Dan Hooker. When these men were officiating together, the situation was plenty serious.
    â€œWe are investigating the possibility of sabotage,” said the admiral. “Fortunately, quick thinking on the part of men and women who weren’t asleep at the switch kept our losses low and neutralized the zombie threat. The navy is grateful for the help we received from marine personnel.”
    The two officers shook hands. The way these men regarded each other, they put more into that handshake than plenty of salutes I’ve seen in my day. It was nice having officers who paid attention to details. The same could be said of the man Admiral Kimmel introduced next.
    Professor Warren Williams was in charge of all thescientific work being done in Hawaii. It was difficult to pinpoint his area of greatest expertise. He had degrees in physics, astronomy, biology, computer science, and folklore. His motto was taken from the science fiction writer, Robert A. Heinlein: “Specialization is for insects.”
    He had a sense of humor, too, which he now demonstrated. “In his copious spare time, the admiral explains military terminology to me. I thought ‘mission creep’ is what we had yesterday when those creeps got loose in Ackerman’s lab.” He earned only a few nervous chuckles for that quip. The memory of the dead was still too fresh.
    He changed the subject: “In normal times my position would be held only by someone with a certain degree of military training. A year ago I would have described myself as a militant civilian.” This won him a few more chuckles. “Not since World War II have so many ill-prepared eggheads been thrown into the military omelet. But when there’s no choice, there’s no choice. I may have taken my first step toward this job when I first learned about the top secret of the Martian moons. I was suspicious of the Gates the moment I realized that anything might come through them.”
    He looked a little like Robert Oppenheimer. I could imagine him working on the A-bomb. “The admiral and I agree on how you can tell when you are in perilous times. That’s when people go out of their way to listen to the advice of engineers.” Only one person laughed at this. Me.
    He covered other material about the operations of the base, but his eyes