by Melissa Good
For a moment, Dar debated not waking her up. They’d meant to go to bed early, since she knew she had to leave for the base first thing, but somehow they’d ended up watching a Croc Hunter special, and before she knew it, two AM was staring them in the face.
Whoops. Dar rubbed her eyes, wishing she could close them and go back to sleep.
The movement, however, woke Kerry, and she gazed up at her with half-opened eyes, a smile sketching its way across her face. “Can I come with you?” she said.
Dar spoke at the same time. “You want to come with me today?”
They both stopped and blinked.
“Wow,” Kerry remarked mildly. “The invisible psychic fiber hub’s up and passing packets, huh?”
A laugh escaped from Dar. “I guess.” She rolled over onto her back and stretched. “I was just thinking I’d like to have an outside opinion while I go through there. I know I’m biased.” Was that just an excuse to have Kerry along, though? Dar examined the thought carefully and decided it could go either way, but the fact that she wasn’t impartial was incontrovertible.
Kerry reviewed her schedule. “Well, I’ve got a marketing meeting I can reschedule, two conference calls that are just follow-up, and some small odds and ends. Yeah, I can clear my day,” she decided. “And, come to think of it, since you’re going to be allocating my resources right and left to Uncle Sam, I think I’d better be there to see how much trouble you’re going to get me into.”
Dar turned her head and regarded the dimly visible profile in amusement, remembering the agony Kerry had gone through not so very long ago and wondering if she was qualified to do the job Dar was asking her to. Since her promotion, Kerry had blossomed into the position, exceeding even Dar’s admittedly biased but high expectations for her. She felt briefly like a mother bird watching its offspring soar 64 Melissa Good proudly. “You don’t seriously think I’d overextend you, do you?”
A soft chuckle came out of the darkness. “No. C’mon, Dar. You know our systems and infrastructure better than anyone else, including me. I was just kidding.”
“Mm. You’re pretty close,” Dar told her. “I’d say, if I had to judge both of us, you’re doing a better job than I was as VP.”
There was absolute dead silence from the other side of the waterbed for several long heartbeats. “I think my brain just exploded,”
Kerry finally spluttered.
“Good thing this is a waterbed, then.” Dar rolled up out of it and stood. “C’mon. I know I need the run this morning or I’m not going to be awake enough to drive south.”
“Start the coffee. I’ll just suck up my neurons and be right with you.”
“You’ve got it,” Dar agreed before heading out of the bedroom and through the living room with Chino frisking at her heels. She opened the back door for the dog, then started the coffee running. By the time she turned around, a sleepy Kerry was trudging into the kitchen. “That was quick...use the vacuum?”
“Sucked them up with a straw.” Kerry pulled open the refrigerator and removed a jug full of juice, sloshing it around a few times before she popped the top open and poured herself a large glass full. “Can we stop talking about brains while I drink this? It’s got pulp in it.”
Dar slid both arms around her and rested her cheek against Kerry’s head. “Sure.” She listened to the soft, distinct sounds of swallowing as their bodies touched through two thin layers of cotton and swore she could feel the cold juice as it traveled into Kerry’s stomach, under where her hands were resting. She rubbed the spot, and Kerry gurgled as a chuckle interfered with her drinking. “Ah ah ah...don’t you dare bring that in here.”
Kerry glanced over to see Chino in the doorway, a big stick in her mouth and a guilty expression on her face. “Honey, where’s your toy?
Where’s Hippo? Play with that instead, okay?”
Chino dropped her find immediately and dashed off, to return with a stuffed fleecy animal in the vague shape of a hippopotamus. “Growf.”
She dropped it expectantly at Kerry’s feet.
“Oh. So now I guess you expect me to play with you?” Kerry put the glass on the counter and her hands on her hips. “How about you running with me and mommy Dar, hmm? That should tire you out.” She reached behind her and patted Dar’s thigh. “I’ll get your gear, if you fix the coffee.”
Dar released her. “Go for it.” She nudged Kerry toward the door and busied herself in pouring.
AS LUCK WOULD have it, they hit rain halfway to the base.
“Figures.” Dar drummed the fingers of her right hand on the padded Red Sky At Morning 65
console next to her. “Hope you like mud.”
Kerry looked up from her laptop, which she’d been busy working on. “Mud?” She regarded her pristine, nicely starched white shirt. “You did tell me not to wear this, didn’t you?” Her eyes studied the wash of heavy rain hitting the windshield, then a smile appeared. “But you know, this reminds me of the first time I rode in your car.”
Dar’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “I’m sure that’s not one of your fondest memories.”
“Au contraire,” Kerry objected. “It most certainly is, Dar. That was the start of everything; that was one of the biggest turning points in my life. You know that.”
It was quiet except for the rattle of Kerry’s keyboard for a little while, as Dar indulged herself in memories as she drove. “You know what I remember the most from that night?” she commented, after about fifteen minutes.
“Huh?” Kerry looked at her. “Oh, no. What?”
“Getting home, sitting down on the couch, and not being able to stop thinking about you.”
Kerry tilted her head back and smiled. “Oh yeah.” She sighed. “If you’ll remember, I sent you an e-mail at one AM. I hate to tell you, because I know you’ll laugh, but I slept in your sweatshirt that night,”
she admitted.
Dar did, in fact, laugh. “Did you?”
“Yeah. I really liked the way it smelled.” Kerry leaned over and sniffed Dar’s shoulder, emitting a low hum of approval. “I’m not sure I remember what BS I fed myself to explain that.” She paused. “Actually, I don’t think I even bothered trying.”
“I woke up the next morning, hired you, then conked out with the laptop sitting on my chest,” Dar recalled. “I got your mail asking about the clothing and answered it before I was actually awake.”
“Ah. That explains the shopping,” Kerry teased. “You have no idea how nervous I was waiting for you in the mall.”
“I was pretty rattled, too,” her lover murmured, steering carefully around a large puddle. “I’m not exactly a social butterfly.”
Kerry nodded. “I know. You were fidgeting during dinner.” She remembered watching Dar’s long fingers play restlessly with the table tents. “But I felt really comfortable being with you,” she added.
“Especially after you shared your dessert with me.”
Dar laughed. “Oh, so that was the big icebreaker, huh? I should have known.”
Kerry shook a finger at her. “Now that I know you the way I do, I know you sharing a plate with someone is a big deal, Dar, not to mention you actually gave me a bite of your dinner.”
“Mm.” Dar’s face took on a curious expression. “I should have realized right then.” She slowed the car. “Okay, hang on. Here we go.”
Kerry closed her laptop and tucked it into her briefcase as they 66 Melissa Good turned into the base, the road blocked by gates and an impressive set of armed guards. “Dar, that man has no neck.”
“Don’t start me on inter-service jokes, okay?” Dar muttered as she pulled the Lexus forward. “Damn place hasn’t changed much.” She waited for the car ahead of her to be admitted, then drove on.
“I don’t think the military is known for being avant-garde, hon.”
Kerry watched with interest as Dar rolled down the window and slipped on her attitude like a pair of sunglasses.
“I have an appointment with Comm
ander Albert,” Dar stated in a crisp, no-nonsense tone as she handed over her identification badge.
The guard studied the badge, then studied Dar as though comparing the picture. Then he consulted a plastic-covered clipboard.
His eyes lifted, and he peered into the Lexus. “Commander Albert is expecting one person, ma’am.”
“Lucky him, he gets two,” Dar replied. “This is my associate, Kerrison Stuart.” She offered him Kerry’s badge, which the blonde woman had helpfully passed over.
“I don’t have clearance for her, ma’am,” the guard said.
By sheer will, Dar kept herself from smirking. “Then I guess we’ll be blocking your gate until you get it or turning around and going back to Miami and billing you for our time,” she said. “What’s your name again? Williams, is it?”
“Ma’am, this is a secure base, and we don’t give people clearance just because they show up at the gate,” the guard replied stiffly. “I think you need to understand.”
“Son,” Dar leaned on the doorframe, “I used to eat breakfast every day with someone a lot scarier than you, so put your attitude up in your side pocket and either let me in or tell me you won’t, and I’ll do what I need to do.”
The man stared at her for a moment, then retreated into his hut. Dar leaned back and crossed her arms, shaking her head slightly. “Some things just really never change,” she sighed.
“I don’t think I can quite picture you doing this, Dar,” Kerry observed. “Though you’d look really cute in those uniforms.” She fell silent as the guard returned, a look on his face that made her think he’d been sucking key limes in the interim.
“These are your passes, ma’am.” He handed their identification cards back to Dar, along with two clip-on badges. “Wear them at all times when you’re on the base.”
“All right.” Dar took one, and gave Kerry hers. “Thanks.”
“Commander Albert is in the Huntingdon building. Drive straight through the gates here, turn left, turn right, turn left, second stop on the right.” He opened the gate, and ducked his head in a semirespectful salute.
Dar finished putting her badge on. “That’s the long way,” she gave him a grim smile, “but thanks.”
Red Sky At Morning 67
Kerry waved at the guard. “Dosvidanya,” she told him cheerfully as Dar drove past. Then she settled back into her seat and looked around curiously as they made their way along a rather weather-beaten road. It was so different than she’d expected, Kerry mused, taking in the long rows of sturdy, plain concrete buildings. Everything was neatly kept, and there were columns of men and women doing various military type things—like running and chanting, drilling in a nearby field—and some were just walking about.
To one side, through a stretch of tall trees, she spotted a large cluster of small houses. She glanced at Dar and saw her lover’s eyes on them as well, a curious mix of regret and nostalgia on her face. “Was that home?”
“Yeah.” Dar gave her head a little shake and returned her attention to the road. “Wasn’t much. I think my room was the size of the back of this car.” She fell silent for a beat. “I spent my first...five, six years here, I guess; then we moved up to Virginia. Year or two after that to North Carolina, two years later to Baton Rouge, then we came back here for a while.”
“Sort of tough on you, moving to different schools all the time, hmm?” Kerry half turned in her seat, watching Dar’s profile. “Making new friends and all.”
Dar laughed shortly. “That was the least of my worries.” She turned down a side street. “I never bothered much with friends.” She parked the Lexus and turned her head. “You ready for this?”
“Me?” Kerry allowed an easy laugh to escape. “Dar, you forget how I grew up. It would take more than a bunch of hunky sailors and Marines to spook me.” She put a hand on Dar’s arm. “Thanks for asking me to come along, though. I’m glad I’m here.”
Dar smiled. “Me, too.” She gathered up her briefcase and opened the door. “C’mon. Let’s go see what trouble we can get into.”
Kerry followed her as they walked along the sidewalk and turned in to go up a short flight of steps to a guarded doorway. She tried again to imagine Dar as one of these stern, earnest, professional warriors.
Ow. It made her brain hurt. She gave the guard a smile and passed through the portal to another world.
DAR’S NOSE TWITCHED as she walked along the hallway, memories gently buffeting her from all sides. The air was thick with familiar scents: wool and brass and wood polish, and floor wax she knew came in gray five-gallon cans. The merest hint of gun oil trickled through, tickling her senses and bringing a faint smile to her face.
It was quiet as they passed closed doorways, the faint clatter of honest-to-goodness typewriters leaking through but not much more.
Kerry gave her a look. “Multipart forms,” Dar murmured. “Eight layers at least, sometimes ten.”
68 Melissa Good
“Ew.” Kerry winced. “They ever consider donating part of the government’s operating budget to saving the rainforests?”
“Mm.” Dar led the way up a flight of double stairs that swept up to a landing, with a door guarded by an armed Marine. “I tried to convince them to go thermal, but they held onto those Selectrics like they were worth actual money and wouldn’t give them up.” She gave the Marine a brisk nod and turned past him into a smaller, closer hallway with doors on either side.
“Dar?” Kerry watched her bemusedly. “When was the last time you were here?”
Dar thought about it. “Jesus...has it been ten years?” She shook her head and took a left, then put a hand on the first right-hand door and pulled it open. “I can’t believe it.”
Kerry glanced at the doorplate, which said “Computer Operations—Do Not Enter.”
“You’re telling me they haven’t moved anything in ten years?”
Dar looked at the plate, then at her. “Ten years? Kerry, there are some government offices that haven’t changed in over two hundred.
C’mon.” She followed her lover into a suite of offices that had a darker shade of carpet and colder air.
Now it was Kerry’s turn to twitch her nose. “That’s not mimeograph fluid I smell, is it?”
Dar chuckled, walking past her toward an office with a thick wooden doorframe and a scarred wooden door.
Perched outside it was a small desk, occupied by a dour-looking woman with curly dark hair and an attitude three times larger than she was. She intercepted them as they walked forward. “Ms. Roberts?”
Dar regarded her soberly. “Yes.”
“Commander Albert is in a meeting. He asked me to fill in for him,”
the woman stated flatly. “My name is Perkins, and I’m the data center manager.” She stood up. “We have a full schedule, so if you’d like to give me a list of what you want, I’ll see what I can do.”
Dar flicked her eyes over the much shorter woman, then simply walked past her, heading down a small corridor toward a set of double doors.
“Ma’am?” The data center manager bolted after her. “Ma’am, that area’s off limits.”
Dar just kept walking, stiff-arming the doors open and letting them close behind her, almost slapping her pursuer in the face. Kerry sighed and followed, catching one door as their naval guide blasted through them. Inside was a large room filled with mainframes, some of which, she realized, were perilously close to being an older vintage than she was.
“Ms. Roberts, I need to ask you to leave, or I’ll have to call the guard,” the data center manager stated fiercely.
“Go ahead.” Dar turned abruptly and faced her, showing her edgier Red Sky At Morning 69
side. “You call the guard, I call the Pentagon.” She took out her cell phone and opened it. “Because frankly, Lieutenant, I’ve had about enough BS for one morning, and I just got here.”
“This is a secure area,” Perkins shot back. “You are a civilian, and this is off limits; I don’t care how
many generals you know.” Pause.
“Ma’am.”
“Look.” Kerry eased between them. “Lieutenant Perkins, I know this is seriously messing up your day.” She smiled kindly at her. “And I know that Commander Albert probably told you to be as big a pain in the ass to us as possible, but that’s okay, because Dar and I are used to that.”
The lieutenant eyed her warily.
“Most of the time when we’re doing this, the people we’re working with are scared silly we’re going to fire them, and sometimes we do,”
Kerry went on. “But you’d do us and yourself a favor if you’d just relax and let us do our jobs. Things will go much faster, and we’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”
The woman stiffened a little, bringing her head just slightly above Kerry’s. “We have a job to do here. Everything works, and we don’t need a couple of outsiders coming in and changing things,” she replied.
“I don’t have time to explain these systems to you. So why don’t you do yourselves a favor and just get the hell out of here.”
“Because we’re being paid to be here, just like you are,” Kerry explained gently. “And frankly, Lieutenant, you don’t have to explain anything to us. Between Ms. Roberts and myself, we’ve got enough certifications to plaster every square inch of the walls in here, so why don’t you just go over there and sit down and stay out of our way.”
The three junior operators in the room had become silent, radar-eared statues, staring at their screens and watching the reflections of the three women behind them.
DAR PUT HER briefcase down and unzipped it. “If we’re done with the first round of jousting, I’m gonna get the analyzer up and connected and start running first- and second-level tests.” She pulled out a coil of network cable and booted up her laptop. “If you’d like to do something other than stand there gaping, Lieutenant, you can get me a list of subsystems and running job streams.”
Without a word, the woman turned and walked out, letting the doors swish shut behind her with a vindictive sound.
