The Israeli Defense Force Space Aviator recruit depot, Rahat, Israel, radiated in more than just the sunlight of a perfect afternoon.  The eyes of everyone in the 69th squadron shone with a brilliance that Caleb knew was seen by every applauding soldier and civilian seated in the bleachers.  He spotted Mom, Dad, Avi and Joop, and surprisingly, Zara's father, who winked and waved a fist.  Caleb wanted to lift the gleaming medal hanging from his neck to make sure they saw it, but certainly they did, and besides, he was at attention.

Behind the line of soldiers facing the audience was a stage erected on the tarmac.  Israeli and Earth flags served as backdrops, and beneath these was a podium at which Uri Einhorn addressed the audience.  "Welcome.  I don't usually attend these kinds of things, but the extraordinary work of these brave young men and women demanded my presence.  Today is a special day for all of us.  Because of the valiant efforts of the IDF 69th squadron, the many peoples of the Earth breathe a single sigh of relief. And now, at their graduation ceremony, we honor them."

Caleb saw Laura's eyes swell with tear, then he looked quickly away and held his head rigid.

"I believe the great 20th century leader Winston Churchill would agree: "Never in the field of conflict have so much been owed by so many to so few...."

The audience applauded, and Zara's father got those around him to their feet.  It took nearly 1 minute for the clapping to halt.

"We of Earth are proud and grateful.  Celebrate well, though I suppose the break in the storm is momentary. The thunder will return. The lightning will surely flash again."

Caleb would completely enjoy his respite from the war, for the truth in Einhorn's words was disturbingly plain.  At least when the thunder and lightning did return, the Israelis would be ready for it, and the proof flew overhead.

New and old members of the Sharks swooped out of the sun and roared across the sky.  As the squadron passed over the crowd, they executed a single, perfectly choreographed barrel roll in recognition of the 69th.

Sergeant Steinberger came down the line of soldiers, pausing to acknowledge each with the snap of his white gloved hand to his forehead.  Members of the crow stood and saluted the squadron. Steinberger arrived in front of Caleb.  The sergeant gave a slight nod after his salute, a nod that presumably meant Caleb had done all right.

By nightfall, the carnival atmosphere had moved to the apron outside an empty hangar, where a bar had been set up and two soldiers with synthesizers played popular Jewish ballads.  Some pilots danced with their spouses or friends, while others sat at tables chatting and drinking with their families.  Caleb saw one old man roll up his sleeve for his grandson to reveal his Star of David tattoo, which he boasted he'd had done on the Mars colony.

Mom, Dad, and his brothers soon went back to the hotel for a swim, and they took Zara's father with them.  The man didn't want to be too far from his television.  Feeling a little bit lost, Caleb wandered over to the bar where Batra and Cross stood listening to Ramin tell her animated and perhaps slightly exaggerated account of combat.

"And then I cut left retroes and he's right there, the idiot, and I've got him locked.  1, 2, he's gone," she said, spilling her drink on her wrist, not out of intoxication but of excitement.  "Whoops!"

"At least you control your plane better than that glass," Caleb added, grinning.

"Here," Laua said, coming from behind him and handing him a drink.  "We're gonna have a toast."

Berkson, who'd been sitting alone at the other end of the bar, responded to Laura's nod and joined them.  Glasses were lifted.188Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8t0vq8Gj6n

Here's...." Laura began, then broke off as Krantz stepped up.

Caleb and the others straightened in the veteran's presence, and Caleb, like everyone else, did so not out of military protocol but out of deep-felt respect.

Krantz allowed himself the trace of a grin.  "Congratulations." He shook hands with the group, finishing with Laura.

"Sir.  I---your advice, those words in the orientation room....they kept us alive," Laura said. "And we appreciate your saying them."

"Save it.  You'll have all the chances in the world to thank me. I've just been assigned as your squadron commander."

Brows lifted in pleasant surprise, and Caleb found himself chilled over the prospect until...."

"And if you people ever pull anything like what you did under my command, the only metal you'll be wearing are cuffs in the stockade." He moved towards the end of the bar, gestured to the bartender for a drink, then faced the group, ready to join the toast.188Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Srzl7Y98i

Batra regarded Krantz with a shrug.  "At least he doesn't yell."

Laura raised her glass, her gaze trained on the veteran.  "Here's....to being alive for one more hour."

Caleb clinked glasses with the rest, then watched as Berkson and Krantz subtly raised their glasses to each other.  Moving to the bar, Caleb took a sip of his champagne, then set down the drink.

He'd been happy, very happy, for most of the day.  But now he couldn't help but notice his photo tags tangled with the medal on his chest.  Had he already forgotten that the reason he'd joined the army was the possibility of seeing Zara again?  For a brief time, maybe he had.  He untangled the tags and lifted her picture.  Laura lifted a hand onto his shoulder, and he offered her a wan smile of thanks before moving away.

"Where are you going?

"I forgot something."