“To command men, one must apply fear with an artist’s stroke.” BG Xander Alarie.

Corporal Heaven Langley checked her image in the mirror. Her dark blue top with insignia was buttoned tight. Her cloth cap sat at the correct angle on her head, and her long hair was neatly coiled behind. Her short stature notwithstanding, she looked very much the officer. She left the room and sealed the hatch, looking down the length of the corridor with an apprehensive sigh.

Major Brock met her as she entered the quarantine area. He held a cage with a white rat inside. He looked between the Corporal and the rodent with an apologetic smile, knowing she was fond of it.

Langley asked, “Why do you have Oscar?”

Brock answered, “I wanted to ask the patient to keep him close through the sleep cycle. I need to see if the radiation affects living creatures. The twins came back clean. Did I tell you?”

“No,” she answered, bending over to tap the cage in the Doctor’s hands. “Poor Oscar. Don’t you die on us.”

“Why are you here?” asked the Major.

Langley answered, “The Brigadier asked me to question the patient.”

“In that case,” said the Doctor, “will you hand off Oscar for me?” He placed the cage in her hands and said, “Just slip it through the slot by the table. One more thing.”

As the Doctor turned and rummaged through the compact wall storage, Corporal Langley put her face to the cage and made small clicking noises with her tongue. Oscar pressed his nose through the loose wire mesh. Brock turned and handed over a small blood collector, the collection tube attached to the bottom of the motor housing.

He said with his signature smile and wink, “Just have him strap it on. You can place it in the pending bin as you leave.”

Langley stepped around the corner to view the quarantine keep. She pulled a folding seat and set it before the glass wall. She left and returned with Oscar and the collector. The old man walked from the shower room dressed in white cotton trousers and a loose-fitting long-sleeved top. He approached with a smile. Langley stooped and slid the cage and collector through the slot by the table.

“Hello,” said Besh. “Is this lunch?”

Langley laughed in a curt but relaxed manner. “No,” she answered. “Doctor Brock wants you to keep it near you to gauge the effect of your radiation. He also needs a blood sample.”

Besh reached below the table and retrieved the cage and collector, setting each on the table. Warrior sat close to the table, his eyes on the rat. Besh pulled out a chair and seated himself, taking the collector in hand. Langley sat and placed her hands on her knees.

Besh said, “I suppose I strap this around my arm.”

“Yes,” replied Langley. “Place the motor housing over a vein and tap the top button.”

Besh complied with a wince of surprise. “Right to the point,” he commented. He watched the tube fill and the green light turn red. 

“That’s it,” said Langley.

Besh slid the collector through the slot and returned to his seat. He said, “I take it you’re here to interrogate the old man.”

“I just want to talk,” replied Langley with a smile. “You’re a wonder, you know. A man on a radioactive asteroid. We are all amazed.”

Besh tapped the cage and said under his breath, “So, introduce me to the pretty lady. Hush!”

Langley tilted her head in confusion. “Excuse me?” she asked.

“Oh,” said Besh looking up. “Sorry. What do you need to know?”

Langley smoothed out her trousers and sat back in her chair. “Well, how long have you lived there?”

“Let me see,” said Besh, pulling his whiskers. “I put a lot of scratches on the wall outside my cave, but I think the days were shorter. I really can’t say.”

“How old are you?” Langley asked. “The running wager is that you are in your late nineties.”

“Here now!” snapped Besh. “I was in my forties when I got trapped there. I can’t be any older than,” he paused, then asked as a question to himself, “fifty-four?”

Langley answered smoothly, “I apologize. I guess the radiation has made you seem older than you are.”

Besh moved the cage to the center of the table, away from Warrior’s muzzle. He turned back to the pleasant-looking officer on the other side of the glass wall. He asked, “So, when do we get to eat? Warrior is starving.”

Langley answered, “I’ll make sure you both have something to eat when we are done. Is that your dog’s name? Warrior?”

Langley watched the old man nod. “I thought he was a wild animal deserted by his pack until the radiation brought us together.”

“How did the radiation bring you together?” asked the Corporal.

Besh answered, “Well, the radiation is actually a living entity. He told me he’s older than time itself.”

“It speaks to you?” Heaven asked in amazement.

Besh smiled. “Can’t get it to shut up. I guess the big man will think I’m possessed now. Will I end up a Guinea pig like this poor rat?”

Langley answered, “No. The Brigadier will do what is right. The Doctor will want to run some tests. If you pose no threat to the crew, all will be well. Trust the team.”

Langley watched the old man tilt his head and appraise her with a changed expression. He cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me if I don’t quite trust the Consortium.”

Langley sat forward to respond. “I am a noncom with the rank of Corporal. I am not really a part of the military. I am an envoy. I represent the interests of Pendragon. I serve the King, and I’ll do whatever it takes.”

She watched a slow smile spread over the old man’s face. He leaned forward with narrowed eyes. His intense scrutiny made Langley feel suddenly uncomfortable. The old man sat back with a wide grin and tapped the table.

The old man said with happiness in his eyes, “I must say, you are just as lovely as I recall.”

Langley had interviewed the old man with a sense of practiced self-assurance. His last statement took her by surprise. She was off-center, and no longer felt as if she controlled the conversation. It was quite odd for the old man to say such a thing, although, she reminded herself, wizards from radioactive asteroids were odd by nature.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered in response. “Do we know each other?”

White whiskers moved around a growing smile. The old man reached beneath his long white beard. He reached down into the white top he wore and withdrew a small bag. He held it out for her to see. It was colorful with uneven spots, some red, some yellow, some blue. It had all the colors of a rainbow. It was a bag she had seen before.

Heaven gaped. Then she placed a hand over her open mouth. It was him! It was the man who walked through solid rock. No one knew where he had gone. He had been assumed dead. She thought in amazement, here sits the man who inspired me to seek the truth, no matter how unbelievable it seemed. It had been seven years.

Returning the bag beneath his white beard, the old man said happily, “Besh at your service.”

Langley left her seat to stand close to the glass wall, eyes wide. “I can’t believe you’re still alive,” she said. “Is it really you? I saw you walk into solid rock.”

Besh took a deep breath and stood. “The rock was an alien portal. Cosmo destroyed it when we got to the other side.”

“Is the Overlord dead?” asked Langley.

“He was badly wounded,” answered Besh. “Used a grenade to take out the portal,” he paused and closed his eyes in remembrance. “And himself. One last dastardly act, I guess.”

“This is big,” said Langley with excitement in her voice. “I must tell the Brigadier.” She looked at Besh, eyes bright, and said, “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Besh smiled as the Corporal turned on her heels and disappeared around the corner. He called after her, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here.”

The Corporal ran to the bridge, stopped to fan her flushed face with her hand, then stood at attention and called to the Brigadier. “Sir, I know who he is.”

Xander turned in his seat to see a flushed noncom panting in the bridge doorway. He turned to the navigation console and crisply commanded, “Lurei, put us in the net.”

Private Lurei snapped, “Aye, sir.”

The Brigadier turned to Heaven and said, “Langley, in my Call Room.”

Heaven followed the Brigadier into his cramped Call Room beside her station. The hatch slid shut solidly to seal them away from the noises of the bridge. The desk was folded up against the wall on one side of his padded swivel seat. The swing monitor was against the opposite wall. Xander turned in his seat to face Heaven with a cutting glance.

“Stand easy, Corporal,” Xander commanded. “Give your report.”

Heaven stood at rest, her arms behind her. She began with a question. “Do you remember the Badger Uprising?”

“I remember,” said Xander. “We came in to mop up. As I recall, the Overlord escaped.”

Heaven continued, “On the King’s orders, I was in pursuit of the Overlord with a team of the King’s elite and a volunteer.”

“I read your file,” said Xander with a commanding nod. “You were honored for bravery under fire.”

“Yes sir,” replied Heaven. “I wounded the Overlord before he escaped. The volunteer followed after him.”

Xander leaned forward with a stern face and said, “As much as I love history, I would appreciate it if you just got to the point.”

Heaven straightened reflexively and cleared her throat. She said to the Brigadier, “That volunteer is in quarantine.”

Besh sat on the bed tapping the cage in his lap. Warrior rested beside him, his eyes on the white rat. Besh said softly to the dog, “Even the rodent is white. If they don’t come soon with food, I’ll toss you for the rat.”

Warrior raised his head as Corporal Langley returned bearing a tray of food. Besh stood, placed the cage on the table, and stood by the glass wall with a smile. Before he could speak, Brigadier Alarie entered and stood beside the Corporal, folding his arms across his chest.

The Brigadier spoke with a strained smile. “Mister Shuller, I presume.”