The general sighed. “Perhaps you misunderstood me. I am asking only as a courtesy. The mission of the Second Expeditionary is such that it would be completely improper, even dangerous, for them to move freely among the unit.”

“Why would they be in danger?”

He frowned. “They wouldn’t. It’s not the women I’m thinking of.” Vorhees took a patient breath and began again. “I will explain this as simply as I know how. We are a volunteer force. To join the Expeditionary is to do so for life, by blood oath, and each of these men is sworn to die. He’s cut all ties to the world but this unit and the men within it. Each time a man leaves this compound, he wholly believes he’ll never come back. He accepts this. More than that, he embraces it. A man will happily die for his friends, but a woman—a woman makes him want to live. Once that happens, I promise you, he’ll walk through that gate and never come back.”

Vorhees was talking, Peter understood, about giving it up. But after all they had been through, it was simply impossible to imagine telling any of them, Alicia especially, that they would have to hide in their tent.

“I’m sure all of these women are fine fighters,” Vorhees continued. “You couldn’t have made it this far if they weren’t. But our code is very strict, and I need you to respect it. If you can’t, I will return your weapons and send you on your way.”

“Fine,” he said, “we’ll go.”

“Wait, Peter.”

It was Alicia who had spoken. Peter turned to face her.

“Lish, it’s all right. I’m with you on this. He says we go, we’ll go.”

But Alicia didn’t acknowledge him. Her eyes were pointed at the general. Peter realized she was standing at attention, her arms held rigidly at her sides.

“General Vorhees. Colonel Niles Coffee of the First Expeditionary sends his regards.”

“Niles Coffee?” A light seemed to come on in his face. “The Niles Coffee?”

“Lish,” Peter said, her meaning dawning upon him, “do you mean … the Colonel?”

But Alicia said nothing. She didn’t even look at him. Her expression was set in a way that Peter had never seen before.

“Young lady. Colonel Coffee was lost with all his men thirty years ago.”

“Not true, sir,” Alicia said. “He survived.”

“Coffee’s alive?”

“KIA, sir. Three months ago.”

Vorhees glanced around the room before finding Alicia with his eyes again. “And who, may I ask, are you?”

She gave a crisp nod from her chin. “His adopted daughter, sir. Private Alicia Donadio, First Expeditionary. Baptized and sworn.”

No one spoke. Something final was occurring, Peter knew. Something irrevocable. He felt a wave of disorienting panic rising inside him, as if some basic fact of his life, fundamental as gravity, had been suddenly, and without warning, stripped away.