"The guy in charge here is an old fan of mine."
"Harry Pierce?"
"He just asked me if I could run a mini and I said yes."
He wanted to laugh. "So much for checking the security records."
Her face grew serious again. "I really wasn't sure you were still up here, Chet. It's been so long . . ."
"I'm here. And I'm going to stay here."
"That's what you told me the last time we met,"
"You can stay, too, Diane."
Her eyes shifted away again. "I don't know about that, Chet. It's ... I just arrived, after all. Give me a chance to catch my breath."
"Okay. Sure." He glanced at the display screen on her desk. "Is that the message from Vandenberg for the base commander?"
"Yes. It's classified."
"I know."
"To be hand-carried to the base commander."
"That's me." Kinsman fished in the breast pocket of his coveralls and pulled out the worn, warped plastic card of his ID. "My holy picture."
Diane glanced at it. "Holy picture?"
"People look at it and say, 'Jesus Christ, is that you?'" 290
Diane laughed, and Kinsman felt good for a moment. "Welcome to Selene, Diane," he said. "Thanks."
"When are you off-duty?"
"This shift ends at six—eighteen hundred hours." He grinned at her. "You're getting very military." "I have to be."
He let that pass. "Listen. How'd you like to attend a surprise birthday party up in the rec dome?" She did not hesitate. "Sounds wonderful." "Good. I'll pick you up at twenty hundred. That's . . ." "Eight o'clock. I know." "Okay."
