"We haven't been here in a long time, Caleb," Avi said, waving the flashlight around and shining it in Caleb's eyes.  "And you still haven't told us why you wanted to come here to start with."

Joop added his voice to Avi's.  "And why couldn't Laura come? I like her.  She could've come."

He waited until he was seated and resting his head against one of the tree-fort's walls before answering, "I don't think we should forget about this place."

They looked at him, uncertain.

"What I mean is," he quickly qualified, "we should talk about all the kinds of stuff we used to do."

"Like when that starling built her nest above us, and she kept swooping down and..." Joop looked at Avi....."you went to take a look at her eggs and got pecked right on the head."

Avi scratched his pate, remembering the old war wound.  "That wasn't as bad as the time you built that raft and nearly drowned in the Dead Sea."

Caleb smiled over the memory, having to save his brother.  Joop hadn't been in danger; he'd just failed to realize that all he had to do was stand.  The water had been neck high.  "You still owe me for that one," he reminded Joop.

"You're only going to be here for a couple of days..." Avi began then broke off.  "I wonder if they'd let your family come with you.  I'll bet Dad'll wanna go."

Joop elbowed Avi, who winced.  "You idiot.  He's going into space, into battle.  We can't go along." Then he foisted a pompous expression at Avi.  "But in a year, I'll be old enough to enlist."

"Huh-unh. Forget that," Caleb said sternly.

"I heard Dad telling Mom they might draft me anyway," Joop said. "I might not even have to enlist.  But don't they have a rule about sending brothers or something?"

Caleb shrugged. "You guys know why I joined. I didn't want to become a national hero or anything, I just..."

"We heard why," Avi said. "She's far away.  But Laura's right here...."

"She's just a friend, Avi.  Just a friend.  She's got a whole world of her own problems.  She doesn't need any of mine."

"So, what are we doing up here, Caleb?"  Joop's wide-eyed expression said that he hadn't accepted the vague answer Caleb had already given Avi and was not about to play any more games.

Caleb drew in a long breath.  "I wanted to talk to you guys.  I guess I wanted to tell you that I'm going to miss you."

" 'Cause you might never see us again," Joop said softly. "And 'cause you might die."

Avi snicker.  "He's not going to die."

"One of his friends already has," Joop spat back.  "He might be next."

"Joop's right, Avi.  But I'm giving you my word that I'll try as hard as I can to not get killed."

"You better," Avi warned. " 'Cause I heard Mom telling someone on the phone that Zara's father was going crazy---and I don't want Dad going crazy.  And I'll....miss you."

"Nobody's going crazy and nobody's dead," Caleb corrected.  "There's just a lot of waiting going on. And it's frustrating."

"That's how we're gonna feel when you leave," Joop said.  "But maybe I'll join you soon.  Those bastards won't have a chance against us."

He wished there was something he could say to purge Joop of the desire to enlist.  He hoped there was a rule about brothers that forbade the IDF from taking Joop.  His mother might not survive the news that two of her three boys were in battle, and his father, well, Dad might wind up like Zara's father after all.

"What's it like to fly one of those jets," Avi asked.  "Rudi at school told me it's just like the VR-cade, only they don't give you any barf bags."

Caleb only half-grinned.  "I don't wanna disappoint you, but I've only been in the simulator.  When I get back, I'll be flying my first TB-54."

"Damn...." Joop said. "I almost can't imagine you flying one of those.  I mean, my brother at the controls.  I remember when you smacked up Mom's car taking us to soccer practice."

Lifting an index finger, Caleb explained. "That was must because I don't...."

"You were looking at that girl," Avi said. "And that fat lady whose car you hit was yelling you like she would never run out of breath."

"Think you'll crash your jet?" Joop asked.

Caleb scowled.  "What kind of a question is that?  The only way I'll be crashing is if I get shot down.  And even then, the IDF has a new track-and-harpoon program to save pilots and planes."

Avi pursed his lips.  "They must've put you through boot camp, huh?"

"Was it as bad as everyone says it is?" Joop enquired.

"Two things you don't do in boot camp:  get your DI pissed off at you and get your squadron mad at you. Do either one, or both, and you'll hate it a million times more."

They continued talking about the IDF, and then, slowly, the tide went out on their conversation.  Avi and Joop had apparently run out of questions, or at least weren't voicing them.  Caleb studied Avi, who held his fingers in front of the flashlight and formed the shadows of monsters on the fort wall.  Then he shifted his gaze to Joop, who was idly picking splinters from the floor and rolling them between his fingers.  Caleb's breath became staggered as he looked upon his brothers for what Sergeant Steinberger had said might be the last time.  He wanted the moment to be important, meaningful, but somehow it felt almost like any other night.  It had been a while since he'd recognized the need to be alone with his brothers, to bond with them, and that made the evening different.  But something was supposed to wash over him, a revelation, something that would carve the moment indelibly into his memory.  He just sat in the tree-fort with his brothers, wanting to say things like:  "If I die, you'll take care of Mom, won't you guys...." But whether he died or not, Mom was too independent to be taken care of.  He repressed the grim impulse to ask his brothers how they would feel if he were to die.  They would barely know how to answer that question.  The most he would get out of them might be a word: sad.  He already knew that they loved him; he was just allowing his insecurity to get the best of him.

"Let's get down," Joop suggested, taking Caleb's wrist and checking his watch phone.  "I'm supposed to be getting a call about now."

"I'm sorry for dragging you guys up here," Caleb said, then glanced at the watch himself to check for messages.  There weren't any.  He rose to his feet, careful to duck beneath the low ceiling.  "And thanks for coming."

Avi stood erect.  "It's not goodbye yet, Caleb.  We've still got tomorrow."

He brightened.  "Yeah.  What do you guys want to do?"

"You really want to know?" Avi asked, then turned to Joop, who nodded his consent with a smile.  "We wanna see Laura in a bikini."

Caleb allowed himself a second's smile, then rolled his eyes to make sure his brothers knew he didn't approve of their lusting after Laura.  though his own hormones had leveled off to a point of saving him from embarrassment, Caleb could still vividly remember the days of following girls through clothing stores, tracking their scent like an unabashed hound faithful to the unrelenting urges.

He was the last to descend the rope ladder, and, once on the ground with his brothers, he crossed from the forest to the south forty of his parents' far.

Avi noticed the lights first.  He stopped, pointed to the sky, and Caleb saw the boy's Adam's apple bulge in a deep swallow.

After a glance that told him all he needed to know, Caleb broke into a sprint.  "C'mon!  Let's find out how we're doing."

Though he had a head start, both Avi and Joop beat him to the house.  Winded, he entered through the back door and burst into the kitchen, the smell of dinner still lingering in the air.  He heard the TV from the living room and hustled towards the sound.

Laura sat on the sofa's edge, her chin in her palm, her gaze intent on the screen.  Bolted to positions behind her were Mom and Dad; they clung to each other, both with ashen faces and glassy eyes.  Joop and Avi had tossed themselves onto the floor and now leaned on their elbows.  Caleb took a seat beside his friend.

After consulting his E-notebook, a middle-aged reporter----who in Caleb's opinion could best be described in one word:  scared---looked off-camera for a cue.  Behind him, a passageway stretched straight away, and two (Israeli) Navy officers exited a hatch and ran for one on the other side. " 'Kay, I'm ready," the reporter said, then faced the camera.  "What you are about to see, ladies and gentlemen, is not pleasant, and we regret having to show this to you."

Images apparently recorded from an attack jet's wing-mounted camera replaced the reporter and depicted a fierce firefight above, beneath, and around an immense gray space carrier.  

Alien fighters strafed the hull of the ship with salvo of laser fire, and the few remaining Starbrute jets that were trying to fend off the alien swarm were suddenly blasted to pieces or damaged to the point where their pilots were forced to eject.  What was worse, the six or more floating Israelis were picked off like clay pigeons before a champion skeet shooter.

Then, one of the carrier's main dishes took a triplet of alien bolts that cobwebbed it with energy and, after a second, disintegrated it.

A stray shot from an unseen plane came directly at the screen.  Caleb jerked back as the image was ripped away into static.

Another signal broke in and revealed the receiving bay of a medivac shuttle.  The place was a vast metallic lakebed of stretchers weighted with bleeding and burned pilots, most of whom were still unbandaged.  Medics shouted and moved in clusters through the maze of wounded.  The camera panned right to a row of uncovered corpses piled three-high.  Two medics added a woman to the already obscene number of casualties.  The reporters voice strained over the horrific aftermath.  "You have just witnessed the destruction of two space carriers.   They have been identified as the INS Eilat, and a German carried called the Baden-Württemberg."

Though the new image on the screen was very grainy, the contrast high, Caleb could see the Baden-Württemberg, a lifeless hulk now adrift in space.  What little was left of her bow was pinpricked by the tiny, residual glows of internal explosions and fires.  Small clouds of debris took chaotic orbits and spiraled in the carrier's wake.  Twenty or thirty alien fighters still circled and spat t heir venom upon her, doing so at a leisurely pace, for there wasn't a single Starbrute present to stop them.  The carrier began to list, and as it did, the signal began to break up.

The reporter's unprofessionally distraught face returned.  "From here on the I.N.S. Jotham, the 238th Squadron, known as 'The Sharks,' are now engaging the enemy---and meeting heavy resistance."

Another wing-mounted camera took in the horrible yet spectacular action as the pilot stole along the belly of the cruiser, trying to get a target lock on an alien fighter that was a mere jet's length ahead of her.  Accompanying the image was her voice through the link:

"Copy you, Krantz.  Don't think my lock's working.  I'm right on this bastard and getting nothing!"

"How's that possible?  Are they jamming us?"

Stunned over recognizing the female pilot's voice, Caleb turned to Laura.  "That's Sylvester from the bar."

Laura wouldn't look at him.  "And I'm actually rooting for her now."

Avi's jaw hung slack. "You know her?"

Caleb nodded, then pointed to the screen.

Now, the same battle was seen from another angle, this one taken from the safer distance of a Japanese battleship, the nose of which was seen in the foreground.  The Jotham was a jogged mass of cylinders attached to a rectangular core amid a haze of falling glitter.  "The enemy have refused terms of surrender," the reporter voiced-over.  Then he appeared, and the passageway was now clogged with smoke.  "These are electric flashes"---behind him, artificial lighting erupted from behind a half-open hatch---"and you can hear the metal buckling in the bow of the carrier."  He looked away as he pressed his index finger on the little receiver clipped to his ear.  "Claude, are we still linked with the feed?"

Caleb could hear the groaning protest of the hull, a sound that left him shaken and cold.  

The smoke around the reporter became so thick that he was barely seen.  Facing the audience, he assured, "I'll try to stay on as long....." A sudden flash behind the man made him look back as the picture wiped into snow.

Mom gasped.

A slightly disheveled news anchor was caught off guard as he suddenly realized he was on camera.  He wheeled his chair closer to the desk, lifted and clapped papers to straighten them, then a hemmed.  "Um, apparently we've temporarily lost our link with Hunt Macdonald aboard the Jotham.  We'll return to him as soon as we can.  In the meantime, let's go to Maya Allan, who's standing by at Space Station Makor-3, for her report on the efforts there."

"We'll return to the Jotham?!" Caleb asked sarcastically, then stood. "The carrier's gone!" He couldn't bear anymore.  He stomped out of the room and towards the front door.

It was a beautiful Mediterranean night, paid homage to by the chirping of crickets who knew nothing about war, blood, and death.  The sky that had recently been speckled with battle now denied the fact that his fellow Israelis had lost their lives.  He heard the screen door close but didn't look back.  He figured it was Laura.

"Caleb...."

Finding his blue star, Caleb fixed on it.   He clenched his fists.  "How did we come to this?  I'll tell you how.  MPs, mayors, and prime ministers put us in this position.  Then again, so did the tanks.  She wouldn't be there, and I wouldn't be about to die.  Look at what's happened!"

Laura seemed to consider what he'd said for a long moment, then crossed in front of him.  "When we go back, I want you to remember one thing.  Berkson didn't take her away from you."

He bowed his head, ashamed that she now knew that he had more than one reason for hating the tank.  In fact, she knew a lot more than he cared for her to know.  But he'd invited her and should have realized that it would all come out.

The screen door banged shut.  Dad moved to the edge of the porch. "It's over."

Caleb lifted his gaze to Laura, who, like him, didn't know how to react.  There was just shock and numbness.

His watch phone abruptly beeped simultaneously with Laura's.  A tinny AI voice followed.

"Attention all pilots of the Israeli Defense Force Aviators Cavalry.  You are to report immediately to base for active duty."

Mom, who'd come up next to Dad, put a hand over her mouth.

"Repeat:  IDFAC pilots are to be suited and ready to roll by 0600.  Walkarounds much be complete by 0615, and launch lines will commence by 0630.  Thumb your compliance codes now."

Caleb and Laura hit buttons on their phones that would send a signal back to the base stating that they were on their way.235Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡInmekmEA4K

The moment that he had been carefully folding away since coming home had now been dumped on hi as if from a bloated dark cloud.  He was like a statue in front of his house, his family, his friend, wishing he could refuse the beckoning stars of war.