“Mortal thoughts and sorrows; Hail Mary hopes.” B. E. S. 

Heaven was dressed in a white jumpsuit, snug in all the right places. Besh followed her into the crewman’s mess trying not to stare. The room was busy, loud with laughter. Besh followed Heaven through the line and watched her plate with interest. Dark meats, steaming vegetables, bread, an iced drink; it all looked tempting.

Besh stood with tray in hand. He took a moment to look around the mess. He saw crew members in jumpsuits of various colors. Their language was foreign, but their laughter was familiar. He spotted Driscoll and her team at a distant table quite at ease. Olaf sat at a table nearby speaking with Shi’nese. Besh turned and saw Heaven waving him to her table.

Heaven watched him sit across from her, noting, “You seem lost.”

Besh, indeed, felt lost. Nearing a critical mission to save David and Elizabeth, with the possibility of failure in the back of his mind, Besh was shaken by the normalcy of the crew. They laughed as if they manned a cruise liner. Were they even aware of the upcoming mission? Besh sighed.

“They sound so happy,” Besh answered.

Heaven said offhandedly, “This is no time to cry.”

Besh responded, “Guess you’re right.” He stirred in his alien mashed tuber and saw that Heaven stared at him. He asked defensively, “So where do I get a jumpsuit?”

Heaven looked at her clothing with half a laugh, and answered, “Shi’nese loaned me one of hers.” She took a bite of the dark meat and rolled her eyes in delight. She nodded at Besh and said, “Eat.”

Besh was impressed with the meat, and the suspicious tuber actually tasted like potatoes. Besh and Heaven shared their approval with a mutual nod. He sipped his drink and paused to look at Heaven. She met his eyes and stopped chewing.

“Truth told, I am a little lost,” said Besh. “A week ago, I was stranded in a desert. Today, I’m on my way to Uswaan.”

Heaven swallowed, sipped her iced drink, and dabbed her lips with a napkin. She said, “Fate plays a dangerous hand. You were dead, and now, you’re not. You may not have the best hand, but you got to keep your poker face straight.”

Besh raised his eyebrows at the young woman’s insight, but before he could respond, Olaf sat beside him with a smile. Olaf spoke immediately. “So, I’ve been talking to cadet Shi’nese. I found out the masks are equipped with night vision and heat sensing. How sweet is that?”

“I’m impressed,” replied Heaven. She leaned close and said conspiratorially, “The E-suit also has a special function.”

“Tell me,” said Olaf, wide-eyed.

Heaven sat back. “Nope,” she said. “Not telling.”

Olaf asked, “So, who told you?”

Heaven answered with a nod to the exit. “Shi’nese.”

Olaf turned quickly and spotted Shi’nese leaving the mess. He left the table and ran after the cadet. Heaven laughed. She took a bite of vegetables and looked at Besh with a mischievous twinkle in her expressive eyes.

“You have a way with folks,” said Besh.

Heaven smiled satisfaction and nodded happily. Besh sighed and stirred his potatoes idly. It was obvious that Heaven’s appetite was better than his. She seemed at ease, unconcerned about the upcoming dangers she would face.

Besh said, “This mission worries me. We don’t have enough information. We don’t even know the King and Queen are there.”

“So, we’ll ask,” said Heaven. “We’ll knock on the door. Excuse me. Package for the King and Queen. Sign here.”

Besh gaped and asked, “How can you be so casual?”

“Don’t overthink,” said Heaven. “Go in doing. Do the job, save the King and Queen, and destroy the planet killer. Simple.”

Besh was unable to respond. Heaven was decidedly complicated. She was a complex of extremes, innocence with a dark lining. She was the joy of friends and the bane of enemies. What could possibly trouble Heaven?

Besh chewed, eyes closed; the flavor of the dark meat satisfied intimately. He looked up, and the food stuck in his throat; Heaven studied him with a strange cast to her eyes.

She said, “I wonder what it’s like to be Besh.”

Embarrassed, Besh swallowed and hid behind a smile. He had no answer. Her remark was not a question, but it placed on him all the weight of a called-for response. Besh knew not what to say.

Heaven continued. “A friend of Kings and aliens. Able to escape inescapable prisons. Traversing a lifetime and a galactic arm in search of a friend. Surviving a radioactive asteroid to return with an alien symbiote.”

Besh coughed gently to clear his throat and dabbed at the corner of an embarrassed smile with a napkin. 

“Well, when you put it like that,” he said.

“You’ve been on my mind for seven years,” said Heaven. “It's like a personal quest to know everything about you.”

“I’m just a man,” said Besh, as if countering an argument.

“What were you like when you were young?” Heaven smiled in serious anticipation of an answer.

Besh answered offhandedly, defensively. “Younger? I had all my hair.”

Heaven prompted, “You were born on Terra.”

Besh nodded. “In the Povre. My parents were commercial pilots. I already knew how to fly when I applied for work.” Besh paused to sip his drink. “The Consortium snapped me up when I was nineteen.”

“And you flew with Cosmo Jack?” she asked.

“We schooled together,” said Besh looking into his past. “I was able to get him on as a navigator. He was my only friend.”

“Were you shy?” asked Heaven, grinning mischievously.

“Yes,” said Besh with a nod. “It sounds better if you say reserved.”

Heaven laughed sweetly. Besh took the opportunity to ask about her. “What about you?”

Heaven pushed her plate aside, sat back with a smile, and thought. “I was born on Merlin,” she said. “My father raised me alone. Dad was a Constable, and that’s all I ever wanted to be, growing up.” She sighed remembering. “He was so proud when I graduated.”

Besh asked, “Are your parents still alive?”

Heaven answered with a straight face. “Mom died when I was young. Dad died shortly after I moved to Pendragon.”

“Oh,” said Besh, embarrassed. “When did you start working for the King?”

Heaven answered, “I was young; I still had to do four years in the military. I received specialized training that put me in line for a position in the Royal Constabulary.”

“You’ve led an interesting life,” said Besh. 

Heaven countered, “Not as interesting as yours. I only know one alien race.” She leaned forward on her elbows and asked, “How many do you really know?”

Besh thought. “The Orlainese. The Nashtatra. The Jjaran. Oh, and the beavers.”

“Beavers?” asked Heaven with raised brows.

Besh smiled. “I’ll have to tell you that story sometime.”

Heaven turned in her seat, gathering tray and glass. She stood and replied, “Come to my room. You can tell me now.”

His heart jumped in his chest. Besh looked into the young woman’s eyes, desperately trying to keep a straight face. He stood with tray and glass, seeking a casual answer when Shi’nese walked up.

“Heaven,” said Shi’nese, “the King requests your presence.”

Heaven turned and placed her tray and glass on the table. Her smile was broad, and her expression was delight. She asked Besh, “Can you take these for me?”

Heaven immediately turned and followed Shi’nese, leaving Besh standing open-mouthed with his tray and glass. He thought to himself, she doesn’t have to look that happy. He felt jealous. He was the odd man out, the fifth wheel. Besh closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Oh well, he thought, the old man strikes out.

Where did he get off thinking he had a chance with Heaven? He clearly misread her interest. Heaven was sweet. Heaven was violent. Heaven was drawn to the power of a King. Her interest in Besh was academic. Besh sighed as he walked from the mess, hands clasped behind his back.

Crewmen passed him in the hallway. They nodded respectfully at his approach. He tried to smile, but the jolt he had just suffered stung his heart. Heaven was a likable person; everyone liked her. It was hard not to see that fact. His problem, thought Besh, was that he liked her too much.

“She likes you,” said the parasite. “You should let me say something.”

“She’s more than you can handle,” said Besh.

Besh felt a presence at his side as he reached the lift. An arm entwined with his; he turned and looked. Directly in front of him were ample breasts. He looked up into the smiling face of Lieutenant Colonel Driscoll. Besh swallowed hard.

Driscoll reached around him to press the button, leaning in close as she did. “Sounds like you need a friend,” she said.