Chapter 10, part 2.

She was looking for the keys in her purse, standing on the porch, when she heard the car slow down and then pull over at the curb in front of the house. She turned around in time to see Stephen Foster get out of his car and begin walking in her direction. Fuck. She wasn't going to join him at the bowling alley, nor at the bar. She was planning to spend the evening at home, watch a movie she'd picked up at a DVD rental. But here he was, dressed in a Star Trek t-shirt and jeans, with a huge grin plastered to his face as he approached.

"Good! You're home after all!" He exclaimed when he was still some paces away.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded, sighing. She found her keys at that moment.

"I was just driving down to the AMF. My folks live up the street, it was on the way." He shrugged, his smile less bright now as he read her mood. "I saw you from the car and decided to ask if you'd like a ride."

She rolled her eyes. Three minutes and she would have avoided him. Damn luck!

"Listen, if you don't want to, you don't need to come," Stephen said in a clearly disappointed tone. Alice felt defensive.

"It's just that I'm not really a people person."

He snorted at that. "Yeah, no kidding. Some things don't change." He shook his head. "I was kinda counting on you, I won't lie. The people I'm meeting tonight were some of the popular kids, you remember Paul and his clique?"

Alice nodded, frowning. She never particularly liked Paul, but he mostly ignored her existence in school. It was his sister who was the embodiment of a stereotype of the popular girl: pretty, blonde, captain of the soccer team, she didn't like that the most popular boys in school who weren't related to her – the Dead Man's Eyes band mates – were treating Alice, the small, withdrawn A-student who was three years younger than them, like a peer, one of them, a true friend. It didn't help that Cecilia had a crush on Jake and he completely ignored her advances.

"Turns out my best mate at school – you remember Kenny? I think he was in AP Physics with you? So, Kenny and I went to college on opposite ends of the country, and we kinda grew apart, you know? But apparently he got close to Paul, and so when I brought up that we should hang out while I'm here he was more than game, but he also invited Paul and some of their friends… And I don't know what to expect. So I would really appreciate to have some positive reinforcements, you know?"

Alice shook her head slowly, rolling her eyes again. "That's a very elaborate excuse."

"It's all true, though." He flashed her a wide grin. "Come on, Alice. It'll be fun."

"I think I have a different definition of fun," she mumbled. But wasn't that the point of this vacation? Go and do stuff that she'd normally not do? Be with people? Just… let go for a moment?

And Stephen grew up to be a very handsome man. He clearly liked what he saw, too, otherwise he wouldn't be insisting, right? So what's the harm? She could leave at any time. Come home, close the door, forget it ever happened. And she was curious about Stephen. He had always wanted to move to France. That obviously didn't happen; he lived in New York now. What was he doing in life?

"Please?"

She sighed. "Alright." His grin widened still; a little more and his face would split in two. It was a bit unsettling. "But I need to change."

"I'll wait here," he offered immediately and watched her like a faithful dog as she opened the door and entered the house. When she reemerged ten minutes later, dressed in jeans and a bottle green halter top, he was still in the same place, his hands in his pockets, and he was watching the twilight sky. He shifted his gaze at her as she stepped down from the porch.

"All ready?"

"All ready."

He led her to his car and even opened the passenger door for her. She hid a snicker.

It was a five minutes drive to the bowling alley. They were a little late; the group was already waiting at one of the lanes. There were four of them; Alice instantly recognized Kenny, who was in her AP Physics classes in high school, and Paul and, to Alice's despair, his sister Cecilia. The fourth person was a woman, too, but she didn't look familiar.

"Hey guys, sorry to be late, I was picking up an extra," Stephen exclaimed as they approached. "You guys remember Alice Boyd?"

"Oh my, little Alice!" Cecilia said, sounding genuinely surprised. She wasn't as slim as she had been in their high school days, and she was still very pretty, in a more mature and confident way, though by no means provocative. Her makeup was tasteful and she was wearing a knee-length skirt and a light blue blouse that went very nicely with her blonde hair and fair eyes.

Her brother looked very dapper, too, even though he was just wearing jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. He was clean-shaven and had manicured hands. Kenny was the most loose of the three; with a flannel shirt and disheveled hair, he resembled the kid she'd known from classes, always stirring up some trouble or thinking up a new prank. The second girl looked younger, maybe Alice's age, and she was dressed in a long black skirt, black lace shirt and had brown eyes and dark hair.

"Hi Cecilia," Alice nodded in greeting. "Paul, Kenny."

"Hey, Alice." Kenny grinned at her, but Paul didn't acknowledge her in any way, other than to stare at her.

"This is my girlfriend, Lamya." Kenny put his hand on her shoulder.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you." Alice extended her arm and Lamya shook it with a small smile.

"Let's start the game, shall we?" Paul suggested in an annoyed tone. Alice raised her eyebrows and looked at Stephen, and he shrugged. They sat down around the table while Paul went to ask the clerk to set up the game. He was up first, then Cecilia, Kenny, Lamya, Stephen and Alice at the very end. This did not surprise her.

The conversation was centered around simple catching up – where they lived, whether they were married, what they did for a living. Standard for such a meeting, Alice thought, though it was the first one for her.

"So did you manage to get to France at all?" She asked Stephen after he finished describing the neighborhood he lived in in New Jersey.

"Yeah, but only for a semester," he admitted. "I was too chicken to just pack my bags and go to France like I had planned to do. Instead, I was admitted to NYU and decided to go for it. It was already much, much farther than I'd ever been in my life." He laughed at himself. "After that, I kinda stayed put and never came back to the West Coast except to visit my folks."

"That's cool," Alice said with a smile. "I was in France for a semester, too. I swear, if not for all the tutoring you'd given me in high school, I would not have survived the four months there!"

He laughed. "Where in France were you?"

"Palaiseau. Ecole Polytechnique."

"L'X? Pas vrai!"

"What's that?" Cecilia interrupted curiously.

"Only the best engineering school in France!" Stephen was grinning again.

"Cool!" Cecilia smiled too. It was like she was a different person altogether. Genuine, warm, and friendly, a complete opposite of what she had been in school.

"So what do you do now, Stephen?" Alice decided they talked about her enough and steered the conversation back on track. "Anything to do with French?"

"I'd say so. I'm a translator and interpreter at the UN."

"Oh, now that's cool."

"Not really." Stephen laughed again. "I mostly just translate boring admin texts. I don't have the experience for the heavy stuff yet."

"But you're doing something meaningful," Alice insisted. "You've always wanted to make positive impact."

"Yeah, I guess so." He looked at her with a spark in his eye. Alice blushed and quickly moved on as Stephen rose to throw a ball.

"Cecilia, how about you? What do you do now?"

"Oh, nothing, really!" She waved her hand as if waving the attention away. "I'm a stay at home mom. My daughter will be three this October."

Alice lifted her gaze to meet Cecilia's eyes. There was love in them. So that was it; the thing that truly changed her? Becoming a mother, giving life and love to someone?

"That's meaningful, too," Alice told her softly and was rewarded with a warm smile.

"Do you want to see my daughter?"

"Sure."

Cecilia took our her wallet and handed Alice a photo of a laughing toddler. She had bright blue eyes and blond curly hair, just like her mom.

"Oh, she's so cute. What's her name?"

"Dorothy."

"Very pretty." Alice passed the photo to Stephen who just came back to sit. It was her turn to throw. She did and scored a strike, leveling with Paul.

They were talking about Kenny when she got back. He dropped out from college after second year to set up a start-up with a friend. It did well and was later bought by one of the big tech companies for a considerable amount of money. He was currently working on a business plan for another start-up. His girlfriend, Lamya, was an actress in an experimental theater in downtown LA.

"Wow, everyone here is so accomplished," Alice commented. "What about you, Paul? What do you do?"

He looked at her with a condescending smile. Alice held his gaze, trying to remember if he had always been so full of himself. She remembered that he played football in high school, was very popular with girls, and completely unaware of her, Alice's, existence, or so it seemed to her. She had never sought out his company, though, and his clique held to themselves and didn't mingle with Aaron and Jake's music crowd, so she really couldn't say one way or the other.

"I'm a pilot," he said with an air of superiority. "I fly for UPS, so I don't have to put up with any pesky passengers." Apparently he found it hilarious, because he started laughing. Alice exchanged looks with Stephen again, barely hiding her amusement. Paul was almost like a cartoon character. "I make over 250,000 dollars a year. Accomplished enough for you?"

Alice couldn't help the smirk this time. She saw Cecilia rolling her eyes, too.

"Sure. I hope you do like flying, too, though?"

"Of course! It's one of the most challenging jobs ever," Paul huffed. "Not that I expect you to understand the level of complexity and responsibility involved..."

"Oh, I understand," Alice put in, trying to keep a straight face. "Believe me."

"I doubt that." He said as Alice rose to throw again. She scored nine on the first throw and a spare after the second, which put her ahead of everybody else.

"If I knew you were going to kick my ass so much, I wouldn't have invited you," Stephen teased her when she got back. Paul strode by to do his turn.

"Sorry for my brother," Cecilia said in a low voice, sighing. "I'm afraid his ego has been growing since high school and doesn't show any signs of stopping."

"Don't worry, he's being very entertaining," Stephen assured her in a whisper. "Isn't he, Alice?"

"Yeah." She smiled. "The fun is not finished yet, though."

"How so?"

"Oh I just can't wait to tell him what I do for a living after what he just said." Alice's tone was mocking, but she felt a bit uneasy. Here she had a perfect example of what could happen if one let one's ego run amok. This was why she always had to keep herself in check. She knew she had the potential to become the same kind of sad pompous cartoon character. She had to constantly remind herself and work on being humble.

Paul came back and Cecilia went to throw with a curious glance at Alice. Stephen took the bait.

"So, Alice, you've heard all about us, now it's your turn. What do you do for a living?"

Alice smiled sweetly at Paul.

"As it happens, I am also a pilot."

"What!" Paul exclaimed in a raised voice. "You?"

"Yes, me." She shrugged. "So you see, I know a little bit about that complexity and responsibility you were talking about."

"What is that you fly?" He asked suspiciously. Did he think she was lying? "I fly a 747."

"I fly an F-16," she said in a fake cheerful tone. Of course, it was no longer true, but the existence of F-302 was classified, and she used to fly an F-16. Close enough.

There was a period of silence at the table and then Stephen and Kenny both burst out laughing, Lamya sniggering.

"Oh, burn, brother!" Kenny patted Paul on the back. "And here you thought you could impress little Alice!"

"That's impossible," Paul complained. "You couldn't possibly be an Air Force pilot! It takes skill, it takes strength!"

Alice didn't reply, but instead reached to her wallet and pulled out her Common Access Card. It had her color photo, name, military affiliation, pay grade and rank, in addition to a chip, magnetic stripe and bar codes. She showed it to Paul, but it was Stephen who snatched it from her hand.

"1st LT," he read. "That's First Lieutenant. An officer. Nice."

Alice raised an eyebrow at him, taking the Card back.

"So you went into family business, huh?" Kenny joked. "I remember your dad was in the Navy, right?"

"He was a pilot in the Navy, yes." Alice nodded. "And my brother Jake is in the Marines."

"Oh, I thought he'd go for Steinhardt with Aaron!" Cecilia was back and still vividly interested. "You know I had a crush on him in high school?"

"I suspected." Alice snickered. "He never reciprocated, I'm afraid."

"I was understandably hurt," Cecilia continued in a self-mocking tone. "Here I was, captain of the soccer team, thinking myself to be the prettiest girl in the school, and he just ignored me all the time!" She laughed. "I was mostly mad at you, though."

"Because I tailed the band all the time?"

"Because they let you in. You were the only girl they allowed to hang out with them. Even Aaron's many girlfriends were never that close."

Alice smiled. "We all grew up together. They just thought of me as one of the guys. It helped that I was always the kid to them. Besides, Aaron didn't have all that many girlfriends in high school. Maybe five or six during the last three years." She laughed. "Hardly a record."

"Oh, I know, some guys were worse, my dear brother here included," Cecilia acknowledged, punching him in the arm playfully. He was still sulking, eying Alice darkly. She had to hide a snicker again. "I have to say, Alice, part of why I was always so annoyed at you was because you were also so remarkable."

"Me? Remarkable?" Alice shook her head. "I was shy and quiet, trying not to be remarked at all."

"Yeah, well, you failed." Cecilia informed her, trying to sound deadpan. "I guess you never knew this, but all teachers always put you on a pedestal. I guess they were trying to motivate us by comparing us to you, you know, you being so young and still better at all academics than any of us. It kinda had an unintended effect of everyone coming to loathe you, I'm afraid. I'm sorry for that." She was sincere and serious now.

Alice shrugged. "Oh, I knew that. Jake told me. But honestly, at that point, I didn't really care all that much. I had my tribe, and by that I mean the band. Being ignored by others wasn't really that bad. At least nobody dared to bully me, thanks to my friends protecting me." She stood up to throw the ball again and scored another strike.

"How the hell are you doing that?" Stephen was shaking his head when she came back. Paul strode by her furiously to the lane.

"I got a good aim. Comes with the territory." Alice smiled.

"Right." He clapped his hand to his forehead. "Stupid, stupid. I guess it's a good thing to know that the people who fly our nation's colors can shoot straight."

"Oh please." Paul came back in a slightly better mood, having scored a strike as well. "In these fighters everything is done by a computer."

Alice looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Have you actually ever seen the inside of a fighter jet?"

"It's common knowledge," he snapped back.

"That means no," Stephen said in a theatrical whisper. Alice snickered.

"What you're thinking about is a drone," she informed Paul. "And even that doesn't fly itself, even though it's unmanned."

"Are you telling me there is no computer aboard a fighter?"

"No, I'm saying that the computer is one part. It won't fly or fire without a pilot holding the stick."

"I always thought it was called a yoke?" Lamya interrupted in her airy voice. She had a slightly dream-like quality about her, her eyes kept wandering around, never really focusing on anything for long.

"It's yoke in most aircraft, kind of like a half of a steering wheel," Alice explained. "But fighter jets have sticks, either central or on the side. An F-16 has a side-stick, so the pilot's hand may rest more comfortably." This was one of the few design flaws in their F-302s, at least in Alice's opinion. The central stick in the space fighter required to extend the arm all the time, even after adjusting the seat. The Falcon's setup was much easier on the muscles.

"There must be hundreds of switches and dials on your dashboard," Kenny mused. "How do you keep track of them all?"

"Well, you don't, not all the time." Alice shrugged. "That would be quite impossible. Some of them you only use during preflight checks, some you only activate once, others you might use if a specific event happens, for example during an air refueling or if there's an engine fire. And of course backups for almost all systems that can be used manually. Most of what you need to keep the track of is on your displays, or around you. And the way the fighters are designed, you manipulate the stick and the throttle and you have all the most vital buttons and switches right there, so you don't even need to take your hands off them."

"So it's not that difficult, then?" Paul interjected with a hopeful note in his voice.

"I didn't say that. There's a reason fighter pilot training takes almost two years before you're fully operational." Alice shrugged. "I've only been flying for about a year since I got to that point myself."

Her turn was up again. She scored another spare, with 8 and 2 pins in each throw. She was still ahead of everyone else.

They went right back to interviewing her when she returned to the table. She wished they'd change the subject, but their obvious fascination also stroked her ego pleasantly. She reminded herself to not allow it to get too big.

"So what do you do?" Stephen asked curiously. "I mean, like, on a day-to-day basis. You're not involved in the Iraqi war, are you?"

Alice smiled and looked away. "I'm not at liberty to discuss any ongoing operations."

"I have no idea what that means but it sounds deliciously mysterious," Stephen joked. "But really, have you ever… you know… shot down someone? Or, I don't know, dropped some bombs?"

Alice rolled her eyes and decided to do try some diplomacy. "You know what the military life is all about?"

"What?"

"Training. Any branch and any combat specialty, fighter pilots, army infantry, marines, navy crews… you name it, they'll all tell you the same thing. If you're not currently deployed, and often even then, most of your time is spent on training. Fighter pilots in the Air Force usually have two to four practice sorties a week, you know, doing combat drills and suchlike, mostly within a squadron, sometimes as part of a larger exercise. It can get pretty monotonous after a while."

"Yeah, sure, flying fighter jets four times a week, what a bore," Stephen snorted.

"You didn't answer the question, though," Kenny pressed shrewdly. "Have you been in any battles?"

Alice didn't reply immediately, looking musingly at Lamya as she made two almost dance-like steps and threw the ball; she missed completely and it rolled into the gutter. She seemed unfazed by this and went back for another ball, taking her time to choose and get a proper grip. Her black lace shirt and long skirt looked somewhat incongruous with the white and blue bowling shoes.

"I've been awarded the Air Force Combat Action Medal about a month ago," she finally said. It was, after all, a matter of public record. "They don't give them out for participation."

"That sounds ominous," Cecilia remarked. "You're being very cryptic about all this."

Alice smiled apologetically at her. "It's the nature of the job, I'm afraid."

"Is it, though?" Paul frowned, throwing her a skeptical look. "I know a few pilots in the Air Force. They are always the first to tell the tall tales of their supposed bravery and achievement."

Alice laughed quite sincerely, this time. "That I can believe! Most pilots are type A personalities. But you're right, of course, not everyone has the same restraints as I do."

"So your work is secret?" Stephen stood up to throw, but lingered to hear the answer.

Alice shook her head. "It's classified, yes."

"There's actually a difference? Between secret and classified?" Cecilia carried the conversation when Stephen left to choose the ball.

"It's a bit like with rectangles and squares." Alice smiled at her. "Everything that is Secret is classified, but not everything that is classified is necessarily Secret. There are three formal levels of classification in our country: Confidential, Secret and Top Secret. There's also a possibility to add a Code Word to any classified information, so only people cleared for that specific Code Word may access the data."

"And your work is what? Top Secret?" Paul asked in a mocking tone. Alice just looked at him levelly and didn't reply. He shifted uncomfortably under her steady gaze until Stephen got back and Alice broke the eye contact to throw the ball herself. She ran out of luck this time and scored only 8 in total; she was still in the lead, though.

"Must be really nice to fly," Stephen was saying dreamily as she returned to the table. "I don't mean in a passenger plane; it feels like being in a big tin can." He frowned. "But to be able to see all around you, feel the speed and the vastness of the horizon… I guess it's not possible to go on a joyride in an F-16?"

"Not unless you're some sort of a big fish, a celeb or a politician, and get an official permission from some general. And at any rate, I fly a single-seat variant." She did, in the F-16. And even in her F-302 she mostly flew alone now, the pilot-to-aircraft ratio often disallowing backseaters.

"You should try a sightseeing flight," Kenny put in lively. "We've done it with Lamya once, it was very entertaining. The pilot was a bit overcautious for my taste, but even so, the experience was quite incredible."

"Ha! I shall try. How does one get about doing so? I presume I have to go to some flying club to find a pilot?"

"Or you could just ask the one that's sitting at your table," Alice joked.

"I'm serious! I want to try!" Stephen insisted, even as he rose to throw again. Alice nodded at him to go, and followed quickly to take her turn as soon as his second shot was in. They were now halfway through the game; she was still the clear winner, but she was growing tired of the constant focus on her. She wasn't used to talking so much, though it was also quite pleasant to see Paul so sullen and the others so keen.

"Listen, Stephen, if you want to try flying in a small plane, it can be arranged," Alice said as she sat back down. Kenny and Lamya were discussing something quietly between themselves at the moment, Paul rose to throw, and so only Cecilia listened to them. "An old friend of my father's is an instructor at a local flight school, he has his very own Cessna 350 and I'm sure he wouldn't have anything against us borrowing it for a short flight about LA."

"You're serious?" Stephen nearly jumped up and down. "Just like that?"

"Sure, why not? We'd still need to pay for fuel and maybe some extra for him, but it'll be nothing compared to any commercial sightseeing flight you might want to purchase. Plus you'll have the one and only chance to fly with me." She winked at him. His enthusiasm was very appealing.

"Awesome! Let's do this!" He pumped his fist in the air. "Tomorrow?"

"I already have plans for tomorrow. The day after tomorrow is okay?"

He nodded. "Cutting it a bit close, I'm going back to the East Coast the day after that, but whatever. I'll make time!"

She smiled. "Good."

That settled, the conversation quickly moved towards reminiscence of their time in school, and Alice sighed with relief at not being the center of attention anymore. She lapsed back into her usual silence, with only few passing remarks until the end of the game – which she won, earning a furious and outraged look from Paul. She gave him a sweet smile, which only aggravated him even more. She declined the invitation to join the group for a drink in the local dive bar, though, claiming she had to be up early the next day. Stephen offered her a ride back home, but she refused that, too.

"Well, I did kind of kidnapped you, I am responsible now," he said. Before she could respond, however, Cecilia came up to them, having just turned in her bowling shoes, and cut in:

"I'll drive Alice. I have to go back home, too, my husband just called to tell me that Dorothy has a fever and he's pretty much out of his depth." She laughed nervously, but her concern was plain. Alice agreed and they both said their goodbyes and walked to Cecilia's station wagon. They didn't talk much on the way; it was a very short drive anyway, and Cecilia seemed preoccupied.

"It's the third time in a month that she gets a fever, see," she explained as they were pulling up next to her driveway. "I dismissed it previously, children get sick so often! But this is now too often."

"I'm sure it's nothing serious," Alice reassured her awkwardly, feeling incongruous, as she was getting out of the car. She didn't know anything about children or parenting. She barely ever was a child herself. But Cecilia just smiled, said goodbye and drove away. Alice breathed and headed towards the front door. It had been a long day and she did want to get up early.

Alice spent the entire morning at her mother's treatment center, enjoying the sunshine and the company. They had lunch together and Alice didn't leave until three in the afternoon. Then she drove straight to her uncle Simon's, where she was invited to Sunday dinner. She was eager to see her extended family, but felt somewhat ambiguous about the whole dinner affair. Her uncle usually invited a number of people for these, often his officer friends from the Army. She'd prefer just to spend some time with her close ones, but there wasn't much she could do to change Uncle Simon's mind once he made a decision. He wasn't known for his flexibility, to put it mildly. At least the formal dinner didn't start until eight o'clock, other guests would start arriving around seven, so she had plenty of time to just sit down and talk. Not that she was doing much of the talking, of course; both Jodie and Tobey, her younger cousins, were blabbermouths, so it was quite convenient for her to just sit back and listen. Jodie has finished her freshman year in college and chatted excitedly about classes, majors, teachers, classmates and – most of all – parties. She had joined a sorority on campus and was just bursting with wild stories.

"When do you get time to study in all this?" Alice finally asked. Obviously, she's never joined a sorority herself; she had been too young, too socially inept and way too focused on learning to participate in any kind of social activities on campus.

"Hey, I have 3.4 GPA." Jodie instantly became defensive. "I'd rather have a life than a perfect score!"

Alice raised her hands in a calming gesture. "Hey, I hear ya. Sometimes I wish I had different priorities in college too."

"You do?" Tobey asked, surprised. Alice and Jodie were sitting on the sofa in the living room, and Tobey was lounging on the loveseat across from them. He mostly ignored his sister's chatter and concentrated on the book he was reading, but he did make small remarks from time to time.

Alice shrugged. "I've been finding my education somewhat lacking lately. I never really learned how to talk to people." That was an understatement, but she couldn't confess just how much of a social dummy she was to her younger cousins. Although technically, Jodie was only two years younger than Alice; it felt like more, though. And not only from her own perspective; Jodie has already said as much.

The soon-to-be sophomore laughed at Alice's statement, and proceeded to tell another story about a socially awkward friend.

Some time later, when Aunt Helen called Jodie to the kitchen to help her with something, Tobey put down his book – it was a math textbook – and launched his own attack on Alice.

"I've met with a recruiter, you know," he told her in a low voice, as if he didn't want to be heard. "I haven't told dad yet, so please keep it to yourself."

"Of course."

"I know it's pretty early but I wanted to know beforehand what I'll need to do to get in. He was very nice and gave me all these brochures and stuff."

Alice smiled, remembering her own first contact with a recruiter, his shock when she said she already had a BA and wanted to enter the Officers Training School.

"And I've been all over the college applications, there's so much I can still do in my senior year to improve my chances..."

"That's great, Tobey. But just… don't forget to have fun in the meantime, too, okay?" Alice shook her head. "Don't be me."

"Are you kidding me? You're like the coolest person I've ever met." Alice blinked. That was a very unexpected compliment. She knew what she did was cool; flying fighters and all. But that she, personally, was cool? That was the first – and probably only – time she's heard something like that. "I mean, you are a little odd -" Tobey continued, and Alice almost laughed at herself "- but in a good way. Like, extravagant as opposed to weirdo, you know?"

"So I'm extravagant?"

"Hell yeah." Now they were both chuckling. "You're the most extravagant person ever!"

"Well, trust me, I'd give up some of that extravagance for a bit more of social aptitude," she admitted with a smile, but she meant it. "Anyway, I now know Jodie's, but what's your GPA?"

"4.4," he said with pride. "I'm in top three in my year."

"That's great! Congratulations. So I presume SAT will be a breeze for you, too..."

"I hope so. But even with perfect GPA and SAT, I still need a boost… you know yourself how competitive it is to get to CalTech."

"Yeah, only about 11% of applicants are admitted."

"Ouch. I don't know if I wanted to know it was that bad… anyway I'm worried about the essay. It really needs to be brilliant..."

"What it needs the most is to be genuine," Alice contradicted. "You are brilliant and your essay needs to showcase you, your abilities and your passion for science. If you manage to do that, it will be enough."

"You're saying it like it's easy." Tobey laughed. "But at least I have a ton of extracurriculars… I've got three clubs and I've been class president for two years now, not planning to change that senior year."

Alice nodded. "That should help, definitely. Anyway..." She didn't finish her sentence as Jodie entered the room with an annoyed look on her face.

"Mom says it's time to change for dinner. I really wish dad would stop with those. How much nicer would it be if we got a takeout and just sat down around the TV and binge-watched the Simpsons or something."

Alice couldn't agree more, but she just smiled and got up to get her dress from the car.

Twenty minutes later she was standing in Uncle Simon's spacious dining room in a sleeveless midnight blue dress, with a boat neckline and a flimsy A line skirt gathered at the waist and coming down to her knees. Her hair up in a side bun, with light makeup on her face and silver earring in the one visible ear, she felt very unlike herself, but Jodie insisted on making her up and she let her. It didn't instill confidence in her, though; Jodie herself looked stunning with her crow-black hair, deep chocolate-brown eyes and long legs on display – she was wearing a short pleated skirt, almost too short for the occasion. But Jodie rocked that look with all the conviction of a woman who knows she's gorgeous and how to take advantage of it. Alice felt like a fraud in her flimsy dress; she was thinking about her uniform longingly when the doorbell rang for the first time; the guests started arriving.

"How many people your father invited?" She asked Jodie, taking a quick look around the dining table; ten places in total.

"Four or five?" Jodie answered absently, concentrating on the Hi-Fi tower. A few moments later the deep warm voice of Leonard Cohen filled the room, and Jodie turned down the volume, making it little more than background music. Then the door to the dining room opened and Uncle Simon marched in with two other men in elegant suits. He steered them towards Alice and Jodie.

"Girls," he said with a satisfied smile, "this is Doctor Madhu Nath, he is the head of cardiology at the UCLA Medical Center." He pointed to the older of the two; a man of maybe fifty-five, with graying hair and a considerable beer belly. "And this is his colleague Doctor Robert Carlisle, cardiovascular surgeon from the same fine institution. Gentlemen, this is my daughter, Jodie, who is a student at UCLA right now, and my niece, Alice."

They all shook hands, the younger of the two – the cardiovascular surgeon, barely even thirty years old – taking appreciative looks from head to toe. Alice restrained herself from rolling her eyes, but couldn't help but frown at Uncle Simon's introduction. Girls? It was all she could do to not huff at him. Then, before anyone could say anything else, the doorbell rang again and Uncle Simon excused himself.

"It is a real pleasure to meet you, ladies," Doctor Carlisle said with a suggestive smile. Alice raised her eyebrows and glanced at Jodie, ready to exchange a doubtful look, but her cousin was replying with a coy smile. Alice sighed. She could have seen that coming.

"Pleasure is all ours, Doctor," Jodie answered. "I've never seen you on campus. I'd remember you."

"Robert has just transferred from Jacksonville," Doctor Nath put in in a deep, booming voice, which served like a bucket of cold water to the two of them. They stepped back mechanically. "And he is a very busy man."

Alice couldn't hide a snicker. Then the door opened again and Unlce Simon led in two other guests: a couple, around his age, him even taller than Simon himself, her nearly as short as Alice. They greeted the two physicians first – they knew each other – and the man shook hands with Jodie while his wife gave her a cheek-to-cheek air kiss.

"Alice, this is my commanding officer, Brigadier General Ryan Sanders, and his wife Debbie. General, this is my brother's daughter, Alice."

Alice frowned again. She could overlook it the first time, but it was now twice that Unlce Simon introduced her with her name only, and while it didn't matter all that much with civilians, it was a misstep with a service member, especially that of a high rank. So Alice straightened up and inclined her head respectfully. It was quite a thing to come to attention on heels and in a flimsy dress, but somehow she managed it.

"Good evening, sir, it's an honor to meet you," she said, keeping the position until the general nodded back. Then she relaxed.

"You're one of ours?" He asked, throwing a look at Unlce Simon who had his lips pursed.

"Yes, sir. I mean, not exactly, I'm in the Air Force."

"Really? What rank?"

"First lieutenant, sir."

She smiled as the general puckered his lips. "You did not tell me you had more family in the service, Colonel. We've worked together, what? Three years now?"

Simon shrugged. "It never came up, sir."

"I knew your brother was in the service. Navy, right?"

"Yes, sir, he was a Navy pilot."

"So you followed your father's footsteps, so to speak?" Sanders turned to Alice.

"Yes, sir, I did. So did my brother. Jacob's in the Marine Corps."

"Well, well… proper military family!" He nodded with satisfaction. At that moment the doorbell rang one more time and Uncle Simon went to get it.

"So where are you stationed?" The general continued with a curious expression that Alice couldn't read – unsurprisingly.

"A remote detachment of Edwards, sir," Alice replied vaguely. He raised his eyebrows.

"How remote?"

"Quite so, sir."

"You're very cryptic."

"I'm sorry, sir." Alice smiled apologetically but didn't elaborate, which earned her a frustrated huff from all five of them: the general and his wife, the two doctors, and Jodie. Fortunately, at that moment Uncle Simon entered with the last guest, and for once it was someone Alice knew very well: her very own uncle Alastar, her mother's brother. He was the younger sibling, now thirty-eight years old, and he had red hair of the exact same auburn shade as Jake – or rather Jake had the same hair as Alastar.

Simon proceeded to introduce him to everybody and before that was over, Aunt Helen entered the room with Tobey, bringing aperitifs. Alice took a glass of vermouth and retreated to the back of the room, near the Hi-Fi, where she could stand and sip the drink while pretending she was immersed in Cohen's silky smooth voice. It took about five minutes for the dreadful Doctor Carlisle to drift towards her with a flirtatious smile. Alice sighed inwardly.

"So, you do not look like a typical woman in uniform," he said confidently. Alice raised her eyebrows.

"Well, makes sense, since I'm not in my uniform currently."

"Oh, you know what I mean."

She looked straight at him. "No, I don't believe I do."

He checked her face to make sure she was serious. "Well, you know, women in service tend to be… bulkier."

Alice tipped her head to the left and continued to look at him deadpan. "Do they." It was not a question.

"Well, yes. But you are definitely not like that… very nice dress."

Alice didn't respond, cursing Jodie in her head, although the girl only put up her hair and did her makeup, Alice herself had chosen that dress.

Carlisle stepped closer to her, so that he was just a foot away now. Personal space, you fucker! Alice yelled at him in her head.

"Um, excuse me," she said aloud instead and ducked around him. She hesitated for a moment, looking at the room: Aunt Helen was talking with Mrs. Sanders and Jodie, her hand resting on her daughter's shoulder, protective – or maybe restraining. Jodie kept glancing at Carlisle. Doctor Nath was looking at Unlce Simon's service medal cabinet, Tobey nearly reciting the list of the awards and what they were for. Simon and Alastar were standing in the middle of the room with General Sanders. As she stood for a second, deciding, Uncle Alastar noticed her hesitation and waved for her to join them.

"How are you doing, kiddo?" He asked as she approached them and exchanged nods and smiles.

"I'm great, thank you. How about you?"

"Splendid. What brings you to L.A.? I don't think you've been around here since last year?"

"I was ordered to leave the base for a while." All three men raised their eyebrows at that and she smiled. "I had lots of unclaimed vacation time. My CO told me to take time off or I'd lose it."

"Really?" General Sanders chuckled shortly. "That's uncommon. My guys usually take every last damn day early in the year and then something happens and they come begging me for a pass."

Alice nodded understandingly. "I'm afraid I'm a bit of a special case, sir."

"How so?"

"I live alone and the base is pretty far from anything, so when most of my squadron takes a day or two every month, I don't really have anywhere to go. It's an eight hours drive to L.A. and plane tickets are rather expensive. Plus, I really like my job, sir." She grinned.

"And what is it that you do, exactly, Lieutenant?"

"I'm a fighter pilot. But I do a lot of other stuff in between the sorties. There are some very interesting things for an engineer at the base."

"Really? And what would that be?"

"I like tinkering with equipment, sir." She couldn't restrain another grin. "So much so that my squadron mates gave me a callsign Tinkerbell." She hoped this tidbit would redirect the general's attention from more specific questions about the nature of her job. It was one thing to be lying to civilians who didn't know better; another thing entirely to lie to an Army general.

Sanders snickered, and Simon and Alastar laughed out loud.

"Why did I not know that?" Alastar asked, pretending to wipe tears off his face. "That is just precious!"

Alice rolled her eyes. At least the strategy worked.

"Well, I'm sure you have a lovely time tinkering and flying drills," Simon said condescendingly when they both got their breath back. Alice frowned again. Why was he so bent on belittling her accomplishments? Did he think she was his competition or something?

"That's not all I do, Uncle," she protested, riled up and unthinking. Half a second later she bit her tongue, but it was too late.

"So what else do you do, Allie?"

She looked away. "I do my job. There are lots of things." She shrugged but of course it only piqued their interest.

"Why are you being so cryptic?" Alastar asked, echoing Sanders' earlier remark.

She sighed. "Most of what I do is classified."

"That secret special assignment, huh?" Simon said, which of course prompted the other two to inquire what he meant. "Last year there was a general call for squadron commanders to submit candidacies for a special assignment, they were supposed to nominate the best of the best of their fighter pilots. Alice here made it through."

"Oh? You're that good?" The general looked unconvinced, throwing her an assessing look. "You're a little young to be fully operational, aren't you? Or even to be a first lieutenant. How old are you, anyway?"

Alice smiled. Only a military man would pose this question to a woman without embarrassment.

"I'll be twenty-three in a few days, sir." She shook her head, half-amusedly and half-tiredly, at his shocked expression. "I graduated high school early and went to college when I was fifteen. I was nineteen when I did the Officers Training School and I was commissioned to second lieutenant a few days after my twentieth birthday."

She noticed Unlce Simon's lips were pursed again. What was up with him?

"That's amazing," Sanders said, with another curious look at his subordinate. It looked like they had had some disagreement and Alice was proving Simon wrong. "And very rare, especially for a woman, to get so far so fast. Although it's a bit different with Air Force. You are allowed in combat."

"Not that Allie'd ever see any combat..." Simon put in, throwing her almost begging look, but she wasn't going to help him. He did nothing but belittle her today.

"And why would you think that, Uncle?" She asked sweetly, but didn't give him a chance to respond. "You don't think the Air Force spends millions of dollars to train pilots only to never use them in combat, do you? And just so you know, I was awarded the Combat Action Medal just last month. They don't give them away for participation." She smiled, remembering she used almost the same exact words the day before with her former schoolmates.

"Congratulations," the general said and she thanked him, but they were interrupted by Aunt Helen; she had slipped out of the room some time before, taking Jodie with her, and now came back to announce that dinner was ready. She engaged both her kids to ferry out the plates between kitchen and dining room and Alice jumped at the occasion to help – and get away from her uncle and his guests.

She was seated at the table between Aunt Helen and Jodie, across from the two doctors. Thankfully, Carlisle shifted his attention from her to Jodie (although Aunt Helen didn't look happy about it), so Alice could engage in polite small talk with Doctor Nath. He turned out to be a nice man, albeit rather uninteresting. At least he did not mind talking, so Alice let him carry much of the conversation, only adding a few remarks whenever it was polite to do so.

After the meal they moved to the living room for digestifs. Alice poured herself a glass of port, grabbed Tobey and they both withdrew to quietly talk about CalTech admission, classes, campus life and suchlike. They were well into the evening when she became aware of her uncle Alastar giving something akin to a speech to Sanders, his wife, and the two doctors. He was raging against FEMA's weak response to the approaching storm – the hurricane Katrina was nearing the Gulf Coast – and praising the President for declaring the state of emergency and directing federal aid to help with state and local disaster relief efforts.

"He wants to run for Congress next year," Tobey told her in a hushed voice when he noticed her listening to Alastar. "As a Republican, no less."

She looked at him, amused. "You don't approve?"

"Do you?" He shook his head. "I know Mom and Dad are die-hard conservatives, and Jodie is a wild card, but I'm with liberals all the way."

Alice smiled. "Are you sure you're your parents' son? You seem much more like us then them."

"I know, okay?" He chuckled. "Only the hair betrays me!" He had messy dark hair and brown eyes, like all of his family; Alice, Jake, their mom and dad all had various shades of red hair and fair eyes, either green like Alice and mom, or gray like Jake and dad.

They continued joking around for a while, but Alice's mind was churning. So Uncle Alastar was running for Congress; and Uncle Simon was introducing him to a local general and two highly successful doctors. And there was some point of contention between Sanders and his subordinate; one which, apparently, concerned young women in uniform? Perhaps Sanders was leaning towards Democrats; or maybe he just wasn't as conservative as Simon. At any rate, if Alastar made it to Washington, and Simon was one that significantly helped him get there… well, it could not hurt his career to have a Unites States Congressman owe him one. Not to mention that they were already connected by family ties; though not directly related, Simon being Alice's father's brother, and Alastar her mother's, they still have known each other as family for a long time.

It didn't hit her until she was halfway home – in a cab, having been drinking that evening so she couldn't drive – that it could also have repercussions for her. It was no secret that people with ties to the government went up the ladder faster, scored better assignments and were more frequently decorated. For a second she entertained the idea how she could use such ties; and then instantly she felt disgusted by herself for even thinking that. She would never stoop so low. She didn't want any promotions unless they were based on merit. That was her true goal. To do something that mattered. And besides, she doubted Alastar would be informed of the Stargate project even if he were elected; unless he managed to wedge himself into an appropriations committee, that is. But no, Alice would not allow him to pull any strings for her. She would go through life like her father taught her: being fair to herself and to others.