Two days later, something like normalcy had set in. The clerk had told Lett that he still had to remain in his quarters as much as possible. Now, however, he could visit the mess hall and take short walks, though only out in the clearings. Not too many trails for Lett just yet. And he should still avoid visiting any offices, at least until Lansdale returned. This was all on Selfer and Lansdale’s orders, the clerk had been sure to remind him.

So, on his second afternoon, Lett again found himself roaming the same turf. This let him reassess and retrain his senses. The main clearing where he’d failed his test was one football field wide and long, he confirmed again. It held those six new bungalows, three to a side, separated by a middle lane. At the opposite end, the clearing turned like an L, leading to olive drab tents that were quickly surrendering ground to the wooden frames of more low huts.

This was the fourth time he’d passed through. He still felt no ill effects. He peered farther again and just above the treetops spied the tip of that water tower and the guard tower, just like before. The people passing were likewise unchanged, still wearing a mix of fatigues and khaki, aloha shirts and flower dresses. Still no weapons that he could see.

None of his senses let him down. As he strolled, all he smelled now was barbecue smoke wafting through camp from the mess, though it was interspersed with something pungent, possibly from fermentation or a rotting plant. And he heard an occasional rooster crowing. It was colder up here than he’d recalled, with more wind. Then again, they were closer inland to the two volcanoes that dominated the center of the island.

He recalled something Kanani had said on their way up to The Preserve. “At some point, all this green is gonna stop and it turns into lava fields, and plenty of it too, just open and barren country.”

Kanani. She was the real reason he was out here by this point. He was hoping to catch her out, and he bet that she was doing the same. So he kept showing himself.

He noticed other things. The equipment and gear and matériel were a mix from all branches, with even some British equipment thrown in. And the kitchen items weren’t military grade but commercial. The sum of it all was decidedly not Government Issue but a surplus haul, as would be procured for some private foreign legion. An espionage operation, maybe. Mercenaries even. So Lett imagined. He tried not to think too much about that. Selfer had openly stated that this was more an intelligence outfit than a military post, after all. For him, the cure was what mattered.