“In the final act, the fist must open to receive the proffered hand.” B. E. S.

Faith, Besh, and Sposh peeked from the melon exchange to watch Alabow and Uda Con walk away from the meeting with bundles under their arms. The arguing was loud and the guards kept a healthy distance as Uda Con held the upper hand. Faith smiled to herself at the Pope’s whining petulance.

Besh stepped fully outside and turned to Faith. “Well played,” he said in honest admiration.

Faith looked at the stowaway and could not help but smile. It is always good when someone appreciates your talent. She inhaled a heightened sense of value and returned the smile. For a stowaway, he seemed a good sort. His open, earnest smile almost brought the blood to her cheeks.

“Thanks,” she said.

Chic and Holly stood at a distance, speaking softly. Sposh, seeing Chic under the influence of her sister, ran suddenly to his wife and fell on his knees. He pressed his palms together and spoke without prompting.

“I’m sorry, Chic,” he said to her with wide teary eyes. “Don’t leave. I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll ... I’ll do better.”

Chic turned to Sposh as Holly, Faith, and Besh paused to watch the scene unfold. Chic, on her knees with her mate, idly straightened the collar of her husband’s uniform. She sighed deeply and lowered her face. When she raised her eyes to his, her quiet answer brimmed with reluctance.

“I just need some time,” she said.

Chic stood and allowed her sister to lead her down the street. Sposh slumped; his hands fell to the ground in a hopeless manner. Besh came to him, knelt, and threw an arm around the Dalop’s shoulders. Faith stood over them as Besh offered comfort to his friend.

“Your heart is good,” said Besh. “I think she saw that.”

Sposh moaned. “What will I do now?”

Faith cleared her throat, and Besh looked up. She said, “If you two have time on your hands, help me get moved in.”

Besh turned to Sposh and said, “Let’s do it. Then, I’ll go and ask Drafter to deliver some ale.”

Sposh looked into the eyes of the kind Terry and felt encouraged. He took a deep breath and nodded. Faith smiled at the picture of the stowaway and the Dalop.

She added brightly, “Whatever you’re drinking, I’ll have two of the same.”

Marken, back flat against the wall, peered cautiously around the corner. The Steward had just followed the Captain into the Great Room and closed the door. Marken sprang immediately into action. He ran quickly down the hall and took a hidden position near the guarded exit. Faith was alone on an alien world; she needed him. It was paramount that he be at her side in all her need.

The single armed guard, unblinking, stared lethargically down the hallway. Beside him was the open hatch to the forward brig. Marken had line of sight on crewman Tanner as he swabbed the open cell. Crouching low, Marken fired his makeshift gun. A small gel explosive hit the deck between Tanner’s feet and detonated loudly but harmlessly. Tanner yelled in fright. When the guard stepped into the brig, Marken slid quietly through the exit.

Besh and Faith sat side by side, pales in hand. Sposh sat across from them on the roof and sipped his ale. The noon sun dimmed behind clouds, but the air was warm and the company pleasant. Sposh sighed loudly at the end of his ale.

He said to Faith, “I’m so tired. I wouldn’t want you for an employer.”

With a broad happy smile, Faith answered, “I run a tight ship.”

Besh raised his pale and said, “Admirable.”

As Faith and Besh sat by the raised edge of the roof, street-side, they only had to turn and lean over to view the ruckus below. Sposh fell to his knees between them and looked at the street below.

Two burly Terran MPs wrestled Marken to the cobbles and cuffed him with extreme prejudice. As they led him down the cobbled street and back to the ship, Marken spied Faith looking from the roof. He raised his cuffed hands and offered a gallant smile.

Sposh asked Faith, “Isn’t that your friend?”

Faith answered, shaking her head, “He’s an idiot.”

Besh turned to Faith and spoke around Sposh. “And yet, a man of such ardent devotion.”

Sposh looked between Faith and Besh as Faith replied, “He follows me everywhere. He’s like a puppy.”

Besh said, “So, train him.”

Faith leaned her face into her palms. She mumbled, “I’m so embarrassed.”

Besh turned around and sat, crossing his legs. “All I’m saying is keep your devotees close.”

Faith leaned back and looked at the passing clouds. Sposh looked up into her face as Besh tapped the last drop from his pale. Faith looked down at Sposh and sighed.

“I should go to the Pope,” She said. “I think it’s time for a cordial concordat.”

Blinking heavy eyelids, Sposh asked, “What’s that?”

Faith laughed to herself as she stood. “Oh,” she said, “just a little late honey to up the ante.”

Besh said, “You definitely have a talent.”

Gathering pales and placing the empty mug inside, Faith said with a parting smile, “I’ll return these to the barkeep.”

Besh laid on his back and rested his head on the short roof wall. With knees raised comfortably, Besh asked, “What’s north of here?”

Still with his arms across the same short wall, Sposh turned to view the Terry. Besh pointed in a northeasterly direction. Sposh fell back from the wall and sat. He looked beyond the roof as he thought.

“Oh,” he said. “Well, there’s the Lazy Dalop pamphlet factory.”

“Any hills or standing rocks?” Besh prompted.

“The Regret,” Sposh replied. “It’s a preserve of some sort. I’ve never been there, but I hear it’s a rocky wasteland. Why?”

“No reason,” said Besh. He yawned and closed his eyes. Then, “Sposh?”

Sposh blinked and focused. “Yes,” he replied.

Besh opened his eyes and turned to look at his friend. “Have any Terries passed through between the first and second ship?”

Sposh laughed. “Well, that would be hard without a ship,” he said.

Besh struggled to a sitting position and turned to face Sposh. “Right,” he said. “So, when must you return to work?”

“You're my work,” said Sposh. “I have to admit, it's much easier than being a throne guard. After you, I think I’ll quit, and go sweep floors at the pub.”

Besh smiled. “I only asked because I hoped we might go have another drink.”

Sposh came to his feet and reached out a hand to Besh. “I’ll lead the way,” he said.

Chic and Holly sat in a small drawn cart, an armored female guard on either side. Clouds rolled lazily across the sun as they made slow progress toward Shahshr. Colorful birds flew between the trees that lined the rough boulevard. Holly’s arm was draped across her sister’s slumped shoulders.

Holly spoke softly. “We’ll get you moved in; a nice place near mine. You’ll see the difference right away.”

Chic, her head against her sister’s neck, said, “I miss him already.”

Holly replied, “Love just complicates things. Men need to learn who's the boss. But, if you like, I can help you apply for a manor, and you can move him in. He’ll need to undergo indoctrination.”

Chic said, “We met outside the Can Club.”

Holly snorted. “What a joke.”

“He sat on a dark bench, away from the light,” said Chic, remembering. “He was ringing his hands, so, I walked over and said, ‘Are you afraid to go in?’ and, he turned just enough to see my hands, but wouldn’t look at my face. Do you know what he said?”

Holly looked into the sky with a mental sigh. “Something stupid, I bet.”

Chic overlooked her sister’s disparaging comment and pressed on. “He said, ‘I’m not here to just take a wife. I want to find someone I can love. My parents were in love until they died, and the edge never mattered. That’s what I want.’”

Chic sat straight and wiped her eyes. Holly reclaimed her arm. Chic took a deep breath to collect the broken pieces and continued. “So, I said, ‘I’m not such a bad sort.‘ Sposh turned to me and looked up at my face. I wore my best dress and my brightest smile. I was being brave.”

Holly, with upturned face, covered her eyes with her hands. She obviously would have to put in some extra hours to help her sister find herself. She was reminded of herself when Uda Con took her in. Chic turned in her seat and touched her sister’s knee. Holly dropped her hands and looked into Chic’s eyes.

Chic said brightly, “When he looked at me, his eyes got wide and his mouth dropped open. And, do you know what he said?”

Deadpan, Holly replied, “I’m sure I don’t know.”

Chic blinked from the brightness of the recollection, then smiled into her sister’s face. “He said, ‘You’re beautiful. May I love you?’”