“I thought at least we might have time to find out who we are.” Heaven.

They ran north and ducked behind a cabin. Ben took a protective stance in front of Heaven as they looked back at the unfolding battle. Ground troops went head to head with the aliens, while in the sky above a pitched dog-fight was underway. The Mar'Shilae had the aliens fully occupied; it was the perfect opportunity to slip away. Ben looked at Heaven and saw that she cradled her wounded arm.

“Does it hurt very much?” asked Ben.

“Yes,” Heaven answered bluntly.

Ben said, “We need to get somewhere and have it looked at. Where are we headed?”

Heaven nodded toward the lake. “There're boats at the dock.”

Ben led Heaven into the northern tree line and toward the lake. They walked slowly with careful steps. They watched their surroundings with great attention. Ben tried to step on bare spots with no needles, and thought to himself, we're not out of the woods yet.

Heaven laughed softly, a sarcastic tone in her voice. “The last time we fought together, I got wounded. I must have some bad karma to work out.”

Ben replied, “We're still good. The Mar'Shilae is mopping up. All we have to do is disappear.”

Heaven said, “I promised to get you to that damned meeting, but they just keep coming. They won't stop. I thought at least we might have time to find out who we are. You know? To each other.”

Ben stopped, turned, and took Heaven into his arms. He pressed his face against hers and whispered in her ear, “Please don't give up. I promise I'll always be here for you. I never give up. Let's just get out of here first.”

Heaven pulled away, wiped a tear on her coat sleeve. “We have to cross the lake. We'll cut straight across while they're fighting.”

“Let's go,” said Ben.

Ben took her arm and they continued to the dock. With the sun still low, the morning shadows fell long, but soon the sun would be high, and Ben worried about being exposed in the middle of a lake. They came to the pier. It was small with docks for five boats. Ben ran to the end of it and found only a row boat.

“Here,” said Ben.

Heaven followed and Ben helped her in. He untied and took the oars. “I don't feel good about being in the open,” said Ben, pulling away from the dock.

“This is the narrow end of the lake,” said Heaven. “Row as fast as you can.” Heaven checked the charge in her gun. “Let me do the worrying.”

Ben pulled hard, he wanted to get far away from the smelly lake. He complained. “This lake really stinks.”

Heaven replied, “People fish for the macjac here. It's a little fish like anchovy. When we get a chance, I'll buy some and add it to our spaghetti.”

Startled, Ben answered, “Don't you dare!”

Heaven turned with a smile and looked past Ben. They were near the other bank. “Almost there,” she said.

Ben looked. “Good,” he said. “I can't wait to breathe again.”

He pulled with all his might and desperation. He could not believe he was breathing such a foul concoction. Surely, he thought, the molecules would enter the lungs and the bloodstream. Then, the very first place they would lodge was his brain tissues. He was horrified to think of macjac molecules nestling into his brain.

Heaven scanned the sky. “Still good,” she announced.

Suddenly, the small boat jolted. They had reached the bank. The sky brightened and the water sloshed against the bank with a rhythmic noise. Ben jumped from the boat and helped Heaven step up on the bank. Above them were large rocks and larger trees.

Heaven said to Ben, “Just past those trees should be a highway. There's a market nearby, and farther north, an inn.”

Ben took Heaven's hand and pulled her up the bank. “Fresh air awaits.”

They stood on an empty highway and looked north. Not far away was the market, its outer lights burning through the dawn. Heaven pointed and set out at a trot along the shoulder. Ben followed. As they neared, they crossed the highway. Ahead, they could see an older man setting an exterior display. Bundles of hay and antique farm implements surrounded the market.

Ben shoved Heaven to one side as a solid projectile whined past her ear. They hurried into the trees on the opposite side of the highway. The older man yelled, ran inside, and locked the doors. Heaven peeked around a large pine to see three figures emerge from behind hay bales on the store's left. Two were human and one was a werewolf. All three of them had spiders attached to their backs.

Heaven returned fire but missed because she was not using her right hand. “I'm no good with my left hand,” she complained.

Ben took three shots. Three figures fell. He shot three more times and three scurrying spiders lay still. Ben walked from behind his pine and started across the highway. He moved his gun from side to side in vigilant arcs. Heaven, less sure, followed. Ben reached the locked doors and tapped on the glass. The owner appeared with a rifle at the ready.

Ben called through the glass. “They're gone, sir. We need help.”

The older man looked through the doors. He studied Ben's face, then took note of Heaven's wound. The owner opened the doors, ushered them inside, and locked the doors behind them. In the back, behind solid walls, the owner said, “Is that a burn? I have ointment and gauze. Sit. I'll be right back.”

Heaven removed her coat, and Ben spread ointment. As Ben wound the gauze around her arm, Heaven pulled a cred chip from her uniform pocket and held it out to the owner. The older man shook his head and waved the chip away.

“What's your name?” asked Heaven.

“Tubal,” answered the owner. “Tubal Arnoy. I would introduce you to my wife, but she passed last week.”

“I'm sorry,” said Heaven. “Listen, Mr. Arnoy. We don't know if more will show up. I suggest you leave the store for a while. Find a safe place.”

Tubal answered, “My son is in town. He has our transport. Don't worry, young lady. I can lock myself in the basement.”

“Do that,” said Heaven.

Ben finished his work and stood to face the owner. “We can't thank you enough.” He reached out and took the man's hand in a grateful pump. “Hide. We'll go up the highway. They're after us so you should be okay.”

As Heaven and Ben walked through the tree line, Ben said, “Nice man.”

“I know,” replied Heaven.

A sudden shot rang out. The pine beside Ben exploded in a spray of fragments. Ben and Heaven took cover behind large pines and looked around. They saw no one, but more shots hit the trees around them.

Ben said, “Give me your gun and extra charges.”

Sam stepped from his shower with a towel around his waist. He worked a second towel through his hair and along his jaw, noting the unattended stubble. Shi'nese, in a fetching beige jumpsuit, laid out the King's clothing on his bed. Sam rubbed his chin as he stood in admiration of his Stewards finer assets.

Shi'nese straightened and turned to face her King. She spoke in a professional voice. “Your personal transport stands ready to take you to the surface of Jja Suma. The Jjarans are still engaged in stalling tactics.”

Sam sat in his chair and removed his razor from a nearby drawer. “I'll take care of that,” he said. “Will you,” he tapped his chin, “do me the favor?”

Shi'nese answered smiling. “It will be my pleasure.”

She took lather from his shaving urn and rubbed it on his face. She took the straight razor from Sam's hand and opened it. “We have more appropriate devices,” said Shi'nese.

Sam answered with a shake of his head, “I prefer to live dangerously.”

“Very well,” said Shi'nese.

She ran the razor down the left side of Sam's face, careful not to cut her King. As she inhaled the warm scent of his freshly showered body, Sam peered intently at her cleavage. Sam said nothing, but Shi'nese was all too aware that her King's attention had turned to her. In her heart, there was no better match for the King of Orlain than herself. As she worked, Shi'nese smiled. Then, she hummed a tune she knew the King enjoyed.

Sam stepped from his transport to face five armed Jjaran guards. Their weapons were worn like gloves with the working end in their palms. Sam stood tall in his King's uniform. He took his cap from his head and placed it under one arm.

The foremost Jaran, a male in a sheer uniform that Sam felt uncomfortable seeing, was the one that spoke. “We have been asked to hold you here until further instructions are issued.”

“I am the King of Orlain,” said Sam. “I have a sizable contract with this hospital. Relay to those who are stalling that if I am not immediately brought into the presence of the Superior, that contract will be withdrawn.”

The guards looked between themselves, obviously at a loss. The Jjaran who spoke walked behind his fellows, and with his back to Sam, quietly relayed the message. Sam averted his eyes from the nearly see-through uniforms and turned to look at the landing tarmac. The Jjaran ships were marvels. He wanted to look inside one. He wanted to climb under the hood, but the Jjaran returned and spoke.

“The Superior will see you now,” said the Jjaran guard. “Please follow me.”

With four guards behind him, the speaking Jjaran led the way. Sam could not help but see the guard's buttocks through his uniform. He sighed and turned his eyes to the sky. He turned his eyes to the Hospital ahead, and too the scenery around him. He turned his eyes everywhere but just ahead of himself. It seemed a long walk, but they came at last to the entrance. The guard turned Sam over to a female nurse, to Sam's relief, and she led him the rest of the way. He checked the nurse's uniform; sadly, it was opaque.

The Superior sat behind his desk in a blue robe with wide shoulders. As Sam, already impatient, drummed his fingers on his knee, the Superior said, “I'm sure you can understand Doctor-patient privilege.”

Sam answered, “I'm not here for that. I'm here about a friend. Ben Edward Shuller. He is being tracked by a race intent on his death, and I want to know why. I am here to investigate your hospital's practice. If a tracking device has been placed in Ben's body, I want to know by who, and I want to know where the tracker is so that it can be removed.”

The Superior averted his eyes and tapped his desktop in a nervous manner. “Well,” he said. “As you know, I am an administrator. I deal with finances and policy. For medical procedure, I would need to find our head nurse. Uh, she may be on leave. Let me see.”

The Superior stood and moved to a wall cabinet, where he slowly opened the top drawer. He turned to find Sam standing beside him. Sam stood close and looked sternly into the Superior's eyes.

Sam said in a low steady voice, “As an administrator, you would be the one to authorize supplies, equipment, and even trackers.” Sam stood in the Superior's face. The Superior, fully intimidated, tried to back away, his independent eyes swinging in opposite directions. There was nowhere to go.

“Right. Right,” said the Superior. “I've heard that some patients are tagged in the right foot.” He tossed a folder to the desk.

As Sam turned to lift the folder, the wall cabinet, with the Superior, quickly turned. Sam looked and saw only a flat wall. “Well, damn!” said Sam.

Ben called up the pirini and listened to the enemy firing pattern. A shot hit a nearby tree. Nine seconds later, another shot rang out. It was not the pattern of the werewolves, nor was it the loud clicking energy weapons they used. It was a solid projectile gun, and Ben guessed it was another human lackey. Ben counted eight seconds and fired in the direction the shots came from. It was a wild shot, a kind of test, but a body fell.

Ben waved Heaven to his tree. When she crouched behind him, Ben took another shot and said to Heaven, “Wait here.”

Ben bolted across the highway. When Heaven looked, he was slipping into the trees on the other side. Heaven heard four shots, then, Ben reappeared. He ran quickly to Heaven and took her arm.

“Let's run while we have the chance,” he said.

They ran north. They stayed hidden in the trees. They ran hard, and when Ben heard Heaven panting, he stopped and called her into a crouch. Heaven stopped and took some deep breaths. She looked at Ben wide-eyed but with a crease in her brow.

“You're fast,” she said.

Ben answered, “Sorry. I'll run slower.”

“We should be getting close to the inn,” said Heaven.

They stood and peeked from behind their cover. Ben saw nothing. He turned to Heaven with a shrug. “A little farther,” he said.

They walked instead of running. Heaven had caught her breath. Ben stepped into the highway and looked around. The day was bright, and the inn could be seen in the distance. He turned and looked along the way they had come. He listened with the pirini and heard nothing. Heaven peeked up the highway from behind a tree.

Ben turned to her with a smile meant to comfort. “We might just make it,” he said.

Heaven leaned against the tree and looked into Ben's eyes. “You're good,” she said. “If we get through this, I'll have to reassess the pajama boy.”

Ben's smile changed from comfort to mirth. “No more pajamas,” he said. “Let's go.”

They walked in silence until they had a clear view of the inn ahead. Made of solid logs, it seemed to Ben a business both small and humble. Looking warily in all directions, Ben led Heaven forward. They were quite close when Ben stopped and pulled Heaven into a crouch.

Werewolves walked from the trees on both sides of the highway. Spiders rode the backs of many of them. They set a barricade of armed bodies across the highway and waited. Ben counted fifty werewolves and twenty spiders. The roadblock was formidable, and Ben had only the two handguns. Ben took a deep breath. They really wanted him dead.

Ben checked the charges, he had more than enough. He sat and leaned against the tree. He looked into Heaven's eyes, thinking. “This will be tricky,” he said. “Do you trust me?”