“Sail effortlessly over all obstacles. Let your training be your wings.” Heaven.

The younger Besh had chattered himself into a nap. Heaven was confused; she missed the old man, but she could sort her feelings out later. With the new Ben Shuller asleep, she would count her hard-won silence a victory. The planet hopper would drop them on the Ashpall tarmac within the hour. Home sweet home. For now, she would open the packet and try to make sense of it all.

Halfway through the reading, Heaven’s wrist comm startled her with the soft Boatswain’s call; Sam was no quitter.

“I’m still on the job, Sam.” Heaven hoped her tone of voice conveyed what she did not wish to say.

Sam said, “Albert told me what the mission is. Did you find him? Is he alive?”

She was hesitant to answer after reading the Mordorain’s missive, but she gave in and answered quietly. “Yes.”

Heaven could feel Sam’s excitement like a blast of heat. “Where are you? I want to see him.”

Heaven shared a love for the old man with both Kings. She filled her lungs with a wavering breath. “I can’t tell you, Sam. For now, I am tasked with his safety. I have been sworn to secrecy. Please apologize to King Albert.”

Sam laughed, but it died in his throat as he knew Heaven all too well. “I’m getting that feeling. Babe, you know you can count on me. Anything.”

Heaven said, “I must do this alone. Don’t call again, Sam. I won’t answer.”

Heaven ended the call with a swollen sense of guilt. She could have used a bit more tact. But still, it had to be done. She could sort out the Kings on another day. If the Mordorain was to be believed, the young Ben’s life was in grave peril. She had only just retrieved him; she did not think she could lose him a third time. She turned to look at the unbelievable life beside her. His young sleepy eyes were open to her.

Ben asked, “Was that your boyfriend?”

The ship settled and passengers began their normal departure rituals. People struggled past Heaven’s seat encumbered by their baggage. Getting into her uniform jacket was a wrestling match. As the last of the passengers filed past, Heaven turned and shook Ben, who opened heavy eyes.

“Let’s go,” she said, pulling him upright in his seat.

Ben yawned and stretched. “Are we there?” he asked.

Heaven stood and tucked the packet beneath one arm. “This is Ashpall, my hometown. It’s always cold here. There is always snow and ice. Stay close, do as I say, and be careful.”

Ben asked with a sudden smile, “Can we make a snowman?”

Heaven turned and looked intently into Ben’s eyes. “Focus,” she said. “I need to get us an air skid. I need to find a coat, and appropriate the safe house.”

She pulled Ben to the open air lock and peered out. Just as she thought; snow and ice. The tarmac bustled with seasoned Merliners. Heaven pulled Ben along as she negotiated the ramp.

“There are patches of ice,” she said. “Watch your step.”

Ten steps across the tarmac, Ben slipped on ice and fell to his back. Heaven stooped, pulled his shoulders into an arm, and braced him.

“You don’t listen very well,” she complained. “Are you hurt?”

Ben looked up into her eyes like a puppy on the scent of a head pat. His smile was like the smile of a child, expressing happiness despite regret. A voice came from behind.

“Girl! I thought that was you.”

Heaven looked up to see her old friend Michelle Adams. Noting the uniform on Michelle’s slender frame, she asked, “What are you doing?”

Michelle stooped, placed her wrist comm next to Heaven’s, and pressed a side stud. “Liner stewardess,” she answered pointing to a luxury craft. “You never call. Come see me, girl. I got this job, I mean, but any time.” She nudged Heaven playfully before standing. She took a step, turned, and winked. “Bring your boyfriend.”

“For the tenth time,” said Heaven to Ben, “no. I am not your girlfriend. That was a misunderstanding.”

The skid settled on the apartment roof. Heaven cut the motor and made sure the landing clamps were locked. First out the open door like an excited child, Ben asked, “Is this where we’ll stay?”

Heaven re-buttoned her borrowed coat as she stepped out onto the roof. “This is it,” she said. “That lift takes us inside.”

The apartment was large and well-appointed. Ben tested a plush sofa and both swivel recliners. He ran from room to room with exuberant energy. “Is this my room?” he called.

“No,” said Heaven. “You get the smaller room.”

“I like this room,” countered Ben.

“Sorry,” fibbed Heaven. “Official use only. Now, go get a shower. Come back clean and I’ll cook supper. Just so you know, I check behind ears.”

Ben called from the shower room, surprise in his voice. “It’s huge!”

Ben found the kitchen bright and cheery. He sat at the table and watched Heaven at the stove. “I washed behind my ears,” said Ben. “Want to check?”

“Later,” said Heaven. “It’s not just anybody that gets to eat my signature dish. I expect bowing and scraping.”

“What are we having?” asked Ben.

Heaven brought to the table two plates covered with spaghetti. “Pasta,” she declared, and turned back to the stove.

Ben took his fork and filled his mouth. At first delighted, his expression changed to disgust. He complained with a full mouth. “It’s not very tasty.”

Heaven placed a pot between them and sat. “You have to put the sauce on top,” she said.

Ben ladled on sauce and took another bite. His eyes lit up. “Mmm!” he enthused. “Can we have this tomorrow too?”

Heaven laughed as she covered her spaghetti with sauce. Pleased with Ben’s reaction, she answered, “It’s a pasta-bility.”

Heaven left the shower drying her long hair with a white towel. She wore a loose sleeveless T and khaki shorts. With a toss of her locks, she sat across from Ben in the second swivel below a wall-mounted archive streamer. Ben, dressed in his printed pajamas from the alien hospital, sat wide-eyed and gaping.

“Don’t stare,” said Heaven. “It’s impolite.”

Ben turned a blushing face from Heaven. He spoke low, almost to himself. “You’re pretty.”

Heaven draped the towel around her shoulders, and suddenly self-conscious, placed the ends over her breasts. “Listen up,” she said. “Information time.”

Ben returned his gaze, making an embarrassed effort to look into Heaven’s eyes. He was undecided where to put his hands. Several failed attempts brought them to rest on a crossed knee.

Heaven cleared her throat and began. “I am Constable Heaven Langley of the Royal Constabulary. I represent King Albert of Pendragon. You are Ben Edward Shuller. You have scarring on your brain from a previous memory erasure compounded by a more recent memory loss due to trauma. I have been sworn in by your patron saint, the Nashtatra, to protect you and insure that you reach a meeting with them.”

Ben asked, “Am I in danger?”

Heaven replied, “The Sharantta seek to kill you. They want you not to reach the meeting. My job is to keep you safe and to make sure you get to the meeting when the Nashtatra call.”

Ben was curious about his identity. “They said I was an older man. Now I’m younger. Were we friends?”

Heaven nodded. “But, look, I’m not allowed to tell you your past. They say it’s vital that your memories return on their own. If I tell you something, it could bias the process. Got it?”

Ben smiled. “I’m glad we were friends because friend is half of girlfriend. It’s also half of boyfriend.”

Heaven, surprised, cleared her throat. “I’m not your girlfriend.” When Ben stifled a yawn, Heaven nodded. “I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. It’s now officially your bedtime.”

Heaven sat in her bed; all was quiet. She laid the missive aside and rubbed her eyes. She would have to read it again to get the full import. She could not begin to fathom Ben’s connection to the mysterious Nashtatra. How far back did his history with aliens go? To keep him alive, to get him to the conference; Heaven had her work cut out for her.

Maybe she could have let Sam help. Rack up another one to her bullheadedness. Some days, she simply could not understand herself. Tossing around with a King is one thing, but being pressed for a commitment was where she drew the line. Yes, she had feelings for Sam, but she was a working girl. Love and dependence were just not professional.

She also had feelings for Besh. Were they for the old Besh or the new Ben? Feelings were confusing. The one thing she could count on was the discipline of her profession. In the Academy, her TCO had been fond of saying, “Sail effortlessly over all obstacles. Let your training be your wings.”

Heaven stood and turned back the bright floral comforter. She put the instructions back in the envelope, puzzled briefly over the alien communicator, and placed the packet on the dresser to stare into the mirror. She imagined Sam on one side and Ben on the other. Then her blood froze in her veins; Ben screamed from the smaller bedroom. Heaven could hear furniture upending.

She dashed from her room and ran swiftly to Ben’s. What she saw frightened her. Ben thrashed around between the wall and overturned nightstand. His hands raked the air about himself in desperation. Ben’s screaming devolved into gulping as if he could not breathe; his body convulsed. Heaven had never seen such a real and deadly nightmare.

Heaven knelt and pulled him up, getting smacked for her effort. Unfazed, Heaven gripped Ben’s pajama top, pulled him upright, and slapped his face. He struggled; she struck him a second time.

“Wake up!” she yelled.

Ben’s eyes sprang open; he drew breath with a loud gasp and began to weep. Heaven drew Ben into her arms, stroking his back for comfort. Suddenly, Ben threw his arms around Heaven and squeezed tight. She had been warned about the nightmares, but this was more than she expected. How he must have suffered! Heaven was moved. She found herself hugging the young Ben.

Heaven helped him back into bed. She stroked his face until he slept again. Sitting on the side of his bed, she marveled at the young Ben. The old man had blended perfectly into the face of a child.