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Eventually so many people were at the observatory that someone made a call and had lunch brought in. A tent with tables and chairs was set up in the visitors’ lot about fifty yards from where the green army satellite van was parked.

Rebecca Cruz fell in step with Mac as he made his way to the front door. “Can I join you for lunch, Dr. MacGregor?”

“Call me Mac.”

“Can I join you for lunch, Mac?” she asked.

“I’d like nothing better, believe me,” he said. “Unfortunately, I have a meeting in town.”

“Must be important.”

“He thinks it is,” Mac said. “Henry Takayama. Lord of Civil Defense.”

She laughed. “That pompous gasbag? You poor thing.”

“I know,” he said. “I’ve got to check with Briggs to see how much I can tell him. But dealing with Henry is the cost of doing business around here.”

“Been there,” Rebecca said, “done that.”

“You’ve blown up buildings in Hilo?”

“And dreamed about having old Tako in them,” she said.

He was liking Rebecca Cruz more and more by the minute. “After I meet with him, I’ve got practice for some high-school surfers I’ve been working with.”

“So it’s Coach Dr. MacGregor?”

“You can still call me Mac.”

“Well, if you can’t buy a girl lunch,” she said, “how about dinner later? The ball of fire isn’t going to come rolling down the hill tonight.”

“Dinner it is,” Mac said.

They exchanged phone numbers. Mac felt himself grinning.

“What?” she said.

“This feels like high school,” he said.

“Relax, Doc,” she said. “Saving the world is a lot less complicated than high school ever was.”