Rachel turned back to the board.

"Tomorrow the Pacific Fleet gets reinforced by the carrier USS Wasp and some cruisers and destroyers. It would have made up for some of the losses they suffered to the Japs at Midway. Now it'll make up for their losses to us instead. Also, tomorrow, Field Marshal Rommel of the Afrika Korps is going to break out of the Cauldron in the Battle of Gazala, destroying three hundred and twenty British tanks in a two-day battle. You won't be surprised to know the locals were very keen to get as much detail about that as they could. The Brits have a bunch of guys stationed here for liaison. They've been hammering us for days about it. That's where the others have gone"-she indicated the empty chairs-"they're briefing the Brits about where and when to hit Rommel. Maybe they'll take the advice. Maybe Rommel will just kick their butts anyway. We'll see.

"At some point, our presence here is going start fundamentally changing the course of events, and this type of research will become moot."

"That's happened already," said Natoli.

"Around these parts, for sure. But the ripples haven't spread very far yet. The Japs are probably still trying to figure out what the hell's going on. Unlike Nimitz and Spruance, they don't have us to walk them through it."

"And I guess they don't have ships like these to make them believe," Duffy ventured.

"Let's hope not," said Nguyen. "Now, back to the board. On June eleventh, the Germans are going to start mining the eastern seaboard of the U.S.-"

"Is anybody else having a Twilight Zone moment?" asked Natoli.

"Every minute of the day." Rachel sighed. "Again, the locals want to know as much as possible about that. They'd like to be able to pinpoint the German subs, but we can only give them general indications right now. The archives aren't a crystal ball."

"How about we try to help out with that?" suggested Natoli.

"Admiral King would be your new best friend if you could deliver," said Rachel.

"Who's that?"

"The current U.S. Navy boss, and apparently a very, very unpleasant man to deal with. I'd love to be in the room when he and Kolhammer finally meet up. Apparently Nimitz was on the line to him for three hours after we arrived, mostly getting his arse kicked black and blue."

"How do you think he'd take to advice from a couple of civilian girlies in Prada skirts and high heels."

"I think we owe it to history to find out," Nguyen said, smiling at last. "Why don't you crack open those boxes of books? Somewhere near the bottom of that big sucker there's a whole stack of memoirs and biographies. You find some guys did time in the coast guard or the destroyers, you might just get lucky."

The two reporters fell to the task for the next couple of hours, skimming through dozens of old volumes, mostly without luck. At lunchtime the three of them shared a couple of sandwiches in the Clinton's main mess. It seated nearly one thousand personnel and most of the places were taken. Rachel and the reporters squeezed in next to a couple of sailors who were minding half a dozen visitors from the Enterprise. The contemporary personnel-or " 'temps," as they'd been christened-looked like kids on their first day in school, lost and scared and trying not to show it; except for one, an Italian kid, who was forking down a mammoth serving of sand crab lasagne like it might be his last meal.

"You got any plans, for when you get some leave?" asked Natoli as she sprinkled fresh Parmesan cheese over a dish of spinach-and-ricotta ravioli. The Parmesan was only Grana, not Reggiano. But it was a well-cooked dish. "I am so going to find my great-auntie Tula and tell her not to marry Great-Uncle Al," she added.

"But what about your cousins? They wouldn't be born then," said Rachel, as she wrestled with a giant hamburger.

"Oh, yeah, that's right. Damn."

"I wouldn't know where to find my family at this point," Rachel said. "They'd be in some paddy field near the delta. But that's Japanese territory now, anyway."

"Well, I'm going to write something like Sexual Politics or maybe The Female Eunuch," Julia declared. "I don't suppose anybody will be interested during the war, but just imagine if we could save all of those women from being chained to the kitchen all through the fifties."

"Maybe they wanted to be chained there," said Rosanna.

"I'm sure they did," said Julia. "For about two minutes."

"That sounds like a version of Marxist false consciousness," said Rachel, before adding with grin, "I always knew the Times was full of superannuated Commies."

"I'm serious," said Duffy. "Right now, we're all together. We make our own rules, or we live by the ones we already have, I suppose. But what do you think will happen when I arrive at the Times and ask for my desk back? They're gonna take one look at my tits-"

"Two looks," said Natoli. "You got such nice boobs, Julia."

"-and then they're probably going to pat my head-"

"Your butt, you mean."

"-okay, my butt. And then they're going to show me the door."

The half a dozen local boys sitting at their table were beginning to notice the small group of loud women. Another woman in Marine Corps fatigues, walking by with her tray, pulled up beside them.

"You mind? I couldn't help hearing? You guys those reporters?" she said.

They nodded.

"Thought so. Listen, did you hear what happened?"

The marine leaned forward as if to impart a state secret, but spoke loudly enough that anybody within ten yards could hear.

"They told Kolhammer he had to get rid of all the women and nonwhites if we were going to be staying and fighting. Can you believe it? You should do a story on it."

Rumor deposited, the woman walked off without waiting for a response.

"Well, did they?" asked Natoli, turning to Nguyen

"How would I know? I wasn't there, neither was she, I'll bet. But the locals are going to come up against a hard truth if they try to pull something like that. Thirty percent of the personnel in this task force are women, and only sixty percent of the guys are white. And they're not going to side with a bunch a bigots against their own friends, anyway."

"You think they really are bigots?" asked Duffy, dropping her voice.

"Nah, they're just ignorant. They haven't read your book yet, Julia."

"Hey, Jules," said Natoli. "Here's your favorite primitive, just back from the tundra."

Lieutenant Commander Black, in a newly pressed uniform, threaded through the mess tables toward them. He smiled at Natoli and shook hands with Lieutenant Nguyen. He was past being surprised at finding little Asian women in military uniform. He turned toward Julia Duffy.

"I've got a few days' liberty," he told her. "And they gave me a room over at the Moana. I thought you might like to come into town for a swim. You can sneak through the barbed wire on the beach, if you know the way."

"My word, Commander, that's awfully forward of you," she mocked gently.

Black wasn't sure what to say next. He looked uncomfortable, like a man trapped in an exchange with somebody whose mind worked much faster than his own.

Julia turned the full wattage of her smile on him. "Lieutenant Commander Black, I do believe you will die of embarrassment right where you stand, if this goes on. Relax. I'd love to come over, as long as you can get Rosanna a room, as well. But right now, we're helping Rachel with something. You want go strutting through Honolulu with your trophy bitches, you'll have to lend us a hand first."

Now Black really was embarrassed. He actually blushed, down to the roots of his thick, slicked-back hair. The six sailors from the Enterprise all froze, as though poleaxed. They openly gawked at the two civilians now.

"Oh my God, Julia," Rosanna squealed happily. "You're killing this poor guy. Just put him out of his fucking misery, would you. Listen, Daniel, my friend here-she's toying with you like a cat plays with a mouse. My advice is, if you want her, don't let her get away with it. Hit her with a club and drag her back to your cave. She'll chain herself to your kitchen stove and start popping out bambinos before you know what's happened."